Robbie Bourbon was recently terminated by Vinnie Lane.

LIKE NO TOMORROW

We see a sign that says "Welcome to North Carolina" on the side of the highway from the view of the passenger seat of a car driving down said highway.

Well, we're here. Carolina blue for you, boo.

Heh, I guess, I don't know why we're here yet...

Eh, you'll see. My license for ultraviolence doesn't expire until after my match with Vinnie, so I figure I...

You'll what?

Well, you'll see.

Vinnie said that your license for ultraviolence never existed.

Vinnie is brain damaged, hon. Comas, concussions, writing on the back of one of my business cards and forgetting his own handwriting, the list goes on and on. Vinnie fell down and broke his crown one too many times.

Oh, wait, Vinnie never had a crown. Couldn't get the job done when trying to be a king, won't get the job done come Savage, neither.

You mean either?

Uh, sure.

But he also fired you.

How is that a bad thing? My boss was sweet enough to reject my inevitable resignation and instead ensure that I'll be getting the massive two-hundred million dollar severance package that was agreed to in my contract originally. I guess making sure my riding off into the sunset happens on a gold plated horse or something. Could be just he brain damage, and considering I never got any alerts on my phone regarding my contract, I'm definitely getting that severance.

You have alerts on your phone if someone tries to alter your contract?

Absolutely I do. It's 2016 and I'm big time, babe.

How big?

Well, Bourbon Industries is the sole patent holder of the flushing port-o-john. When Vinnie shat, he could thank me for the relief of having a place to empty his bowels. Those things are even air conditioned; imagine if Vinnie actually had to dump ass in a port-o-john that wasn't, midday, in Las Vegas.

We're the only ones who make them?

Yes. I wonder if Vinnie was using the model with the bidet.

Well, why is he reacting like this?

Well, brain damage could be it, but let's face facts; he's sad he's losing his biggest cash cow. Robbie Motherfucking Bourbon, man of the people, filler of arenas, and I've opted to simply fade out of existence rather than scramble and try to appease him or his wallet in some way. I think that might be why he's being irrational and sounding like a jilted ex-Loverboy through all of this.

"Oh, no Robbie, how dare you leave! I know, I'll say all this stuff about your legacy! Come back and argue with me! Don't leave me!"

It's pathetic, and grasping. Hell, he thinks I'm going out just to wave and say goodbye.

I'm going out there to fight like there's no tomorrow, because there is no fucking tomorrow.

Well, besides finding a way to spend all that severance you just kicked my way, boss. Oh, if you're really that upset about me leaving so suddenly, you can take it out of my last paycheck. I'm not sweating it. Seriously, that severance is more than any paycheck I would have gotten. You know, you'd think maybe Frodo or Girard, or even that goofy Judge would have let him know about this, have you seen the last actual photo of Vinnie speaking with the rest of the brass?

Blue pulls her phone up and pulls up a picture that is actually making the rounds in XWF fan forums everywhere, which shows Vinnie Lane, Frodo Smackins, Thomas Girard, and Dim all together.


Maybe Dim told him to fire me.

That's Frodo? He looks very different without a hat on!

Different? You mean 'bald'? He still looks like a toe.

He revoked your insurance.

Oh. Well, I'm getting two-hundred mil.

Robbie, who is driving, pulls the vehicle over at a rest area. He pulls out his phone, and starts to mess with it.

What are you doing?

Oh, going to the healthcare.gov website and getting insurance.

Really?

Really, really.

Robbie swipes his finger across the screen of his phone a few times.

...and done. Bam. Insured. Well, I guess that leaves me with one hundred and ninety-nine million, nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand, five hundred dollars. Anything else we need?

I need to pee.

We see Blue step out of the vehicle and go to stand in a line. There is a state official standing at the bathroom door. He's a largish fellow, and he seems to be involved in a heated discussion with a lady attempting to enter the women's room. Robbie steps out of the car as well and begins to listen.

Look, sugar, you can't use the potty here unless you let me have a look at what's in them britches.

The woman, obviously flustered, looks reluctant to show her bathing suit parts to the man. Robbie approaches.

Excuse me...

Back of the line.

No, I just had a question, what's the hold-up?

North Carolina state law. I have to check the gender of anybody who wants to use the bathroom.

Robbie looks at the woman and back at the official.

You can't tell she's a woman?

I need to double check, and I mean, don't you want to as well buddy? Hyuk.

The woman rolls her eyes. Robbie looks less than pleased.

That's kinda fucked, bro. Sorry you can't get a date so you gotta fuck with someone else, but seriously, people gotta go to the bathroom and have places to be, so why don't we...

Back of the line, son, or nobody goes to the bathroom.

Robbie rolls his eyes.

Well, I guess I'm getting some mileage out of this ultraviolence license at least.

Robbie whips out his cock and begins to piss on the state official.

Hey, what the...

The rest of the travelers of the interstate, all waiting to pee, look on in bewilderment. Robbie finishes, puts his cock back in his pants, and zips up his fly.

That's it! You're under...

Robbie grabs the official by the face, his thumb and index finger pressed deeply into the temples of the official, palming his forehead.

I'm over as fuck, stud, check what the XWF fans say online about ol' Robbie Bourbon...

Robbie slams the official's head into the brick and mortar wall of the rest area as everyone in line runs past both Robbie and the official and into bathrooms.

...even if a lot of the forums seem to be full of either pissed-off single guys or batshit social , they can't get enough of me. You, on the other hand?

Robbie slams the officials head into the wall a few more times, loudly, until blood splatters. He then digs his index and middle finger into the wound with each hand, and splits the skull open. Robbie reaches in and pulls out a scoop of brain matter.

You don't even have a name as far as I'm concerned.

Robbie starts stuffing his mouth with the state official's grey matter. A family of four approach. Robbie stands and waves as the family recognize him, and Robbie, still covered with the blood of the state official, mouthful of brains, poses with them for some pictures. He then hands a little of the brains to the children, who giggle, and eat them so they they can get big and strong like Robbie some day.