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~~Brandon Moore~~ · **01-11-2017, 05:40 PM**

Almost thirty hours since departing Denver in a rental Chevrolet Colbat, Brandon Moore has arrived in Tampa, Florida. He's got a match for Savage Saturday Night, teaming with Ronnie Cage against Reeve and Snow. That's all fine and dandy, but the Wednesday following, Brandon takes on Robbie Bourbon in Antarctica for the XWF Hart Championship. It's an exciting time in the XWF. There are a vast amount of newcomers that have appeared and the competition is as tough as ever. Brandon doesn't give a shit, though. He feels that he'll massacre anyone that steps in the path of himself and Havoc. That includes Robbie Bourbon especially.

As he arrives in Tampa, Brandon gets a genius idea. Genius being a very relaxed term in this sense of the word. While at the last and final rest stop to drop a mondo shit, Brandon spent some time on his smartphone. He hopped on the Walgreens website and placed an order. Brandon put together a graphic of Robbie Bourbon's stupid face with a red circle around it and, of course, a red line through it. That is the international symbol for “fuck whatever is in the circle.” Brandon's getting t-shirts! Fifty of them to be exact.

He arrives at the random Tampa Walgreens that his GPS has taken him to. Luckily, he matched it correctly with the Walgreens he placed the t-shirt order through! It's been a couple hours and he paid for the expedited order for the day. They said the shirts would be finished around the time he has planned to arrive. Brandon pulls in, parks the car, and heads into the Walgreens. The automatic doors open and Brandon pretends to have used the Force to cause them to slide. He walks in and speeds to the Photo counter, pulling out his ID. He gets the attention of the worker behind the counter and gets right to the point, placing his ID on the counter.

-Brandon Moore-
“I had a sped up order of fifty t-shirts. Here's my ID so you know it's me.”

-Walgreens Worker-
“Ah yes, they actually just finished printing. It took no time at all. Did you want them in a box?”

-Brandon Moore-
“Yeah, a box is great.”

The worker disappears behind a door for a second and returns with a medium sized box. The worker places the box on the counter and turns his back to go finish up the processing of the order for payment. Brandon grabs his ID, slides it into his pocket, then takes off with the box. Brandon heads out the door of the Walgreens with his box of t-shirts without paying. He sets the box in the passenger seat of his car then goes around and jumps in the driver seat. The Walgreens worker is now rushing out the door, but it's too late. Brandon is already driving off, very nonchalantly.

…......................................................................................................................................................

The winter weather in Tampa isn't too shabby compared to other parts of the United States. It's a fair sixty-nine degrees outside. Brandon has changed into one of his “No Robbie Bourbon” shirts and has the box placed to his side. He's in front of a McDonald's now. In his hand is one of his shirts that he had printed, holding it out to individuals passing by. A busy McDonald's seems like a great place to start. Brandon starts his spiel about his opponent for the Hart Championship match.

-Brandon Moore-
“Free shirts, motherfuckers! Get your 'Fuck Robbie Bourbon' shirts here! They're abso-fucking-lutely free! You just have to wear it! What do we want?! Not Robbie Bourbon! When do we want him?! Never!”

Brandon waves the shirt in the faces of people entering and exiting the McDonald's. A middle-aged woman has to stop as her son is mesmerized by Brandon's rant. She tries her best to round up her child, but his attention is on the XWF superstar.

-Brandon Moore-
“You, small human! I see your gaze is locked upon this beautiful t-shirt! Here you go! Represent and shit!”

Brandon tosses the shirt to the child much like Mean “Joe” Green tossed his dirty jersey to the boy in the classic Coca Cola commercial. The child catches the shirt and immediately goes to put it on. His mother isn't having any of that. The mother of the young boy stops the dressing of the shirt halfway through and yanks it off. She throws it back and Brandon, grabs her son by the wrist, and scurries off. The shirt hits Brandon in the chest and he catches it. He holds it up and shakes it at the woman as she hurriedly drags her son away.

-Brandon Moore-
“Well, fuck you, too. You commie bitch! A vote for Robbie Bourbon is a vote for the end of the world! Get Robbie Bourbon out of the XWF! Get Robbie Bourbon away from championships!”

Brandon sighs. He's only given away two t-shirts and those were to homeless men who obviously needed them. He decides he might want to try a different location, but hold on. The 5-0 has rolled up. Two police officers exit the cruiser and approach Brandon. He does nothing suspicious, but gets prepared for the worst because the police are mean and shit. The first officer, the stereotypical black officer, speaks first, followed by the stereotypical fat white officer with sunglasses and a handlebar mustache. Coincidentally, the black one is named Officer Black and the white one is named Officer White.

-Officer Black-
“You wouldn't know anything about someone stealing shirts ordered from a Walgreens around here would you?”

-Brandon Moore-
“Walgreens? No sir. What's a Walgreens?”

-Officer White-
“That's a Walgreens, son.”

The white officer points across the street at the Walgreens that Brandon just ducked out of with the box of shirts. He drove to the McDonald's in plain sight of the Walgreens he just stole from. The worker that assisted him is outside with his arms folded, anger and distrust upon his face. Brandon shrugs as if he has no idea about the shirts being stolen.

-Brandon Moore-
“You must have the wrong guy. You see, I'm from out of town. I brought these shirts here myself. I'm just here for a wrestling event this weekend and am trying to get people to come is all.”

-Officer Black-
“A wrestling event? Oh shit, are you with the XWF?!”

-Officer White-
“The XW...what?”

-Officer Black-
“The XWF, man! They've got a show at the Sun Dome on Saturday! Me and my kids are definitely going to be there. I see it now, you've got Robbie Bourbon crossed out on your shit! You must be Brandon Moore!”

-Brandon Moore-
“In the flesh.”

-Officer Black-
“Dude! This is so awesome! Can I get a picture or something? Your Hart Championship match in Antarctica is going to be so hot it'll melt the whole damn place!”

-Officer White-
“Hold on, Black! It doesn't matter who this guy is or that you've a wrestling geek. We've got a job to do and that is defend the honor of the citizens of Tampa, Florida. Son, I'm sorry, you're going to have to come with us to return those shirts and back to the station.”

Officer White reaches out for Brandon's arm, but Officer Black intervenes, throwing his body in the way.

-Office White-
“What are you doing, Black?!”

-Officer Black-
“You can't arrest this guy, White! He's the XWF Federweight Champion! If you took him to jail, we'd create a global catastrophe! He wouldn't be able to defend his belt. Havoc would be down a member. Robbie would walk away with the Hart Championship by forfeit!”

-Officer White-
“What are you blabbering about?!”

-Officer Black-
“You don't understand, man. I might not be the biggest Brandon Moore fan on the planet, but Robbie Bourbon is annoying as fuck! I'm on the Moore bandwagon just to see that masked freak shut up! Trust me, partner. Let this guy go and I'll show you the XWF. Your life will never be the same again.”

-Officer White-
“You're shitting me, Black. You want me to let this thief go?”

-Brandon Moore-
“That sounds like a grea...”

-Officer White-
“Zip it. Black, you've been my partner for eleven years. This whole wrestling thing better be as amazing as you say it is or the commissioner is going to have your ass. I'll make sure of it!”

-Officer Black-
“You won't regret it, buddy. Let's snag some of these shirts!”

Officer Black digs into the box and takes out two shirts with the anti-Robbie Bourbon design on them. He warps one around his neck, hanging over his shoulders, and hands the other one to Officer White. Brandon grabs four more shirts out of the box and hands them to Officer White himself.

-Brandon Moore-
“Here, take these, too. Cut 'em up and sew 'em together. It'll probably be good to go then.”

Officer White takes a bit of offense to this, but he grabs the extra shirts from Brandon regardless.

-Officer White-
“You can't be loitering in front of here, though, son. You're free to go, but I mean go. Take the shirts to the dome or something, not here.”

-Officer Black-
“He's got a point.”

-Brandon Moore-
“Fair enough!”

Brandon nods at the police officers and loads the boxes back into his car. The officers get into their cruiser and allow Brandon to exit the McDonald's parking lot. He screams with his window down as he rolls away.

-Brandon Moore-
“Fuck Robbie Bourbon!”

The Walgreens worker that Brandon irked off earlier stands dumbfounded in front of his store. He was sure that Brandon would have been done in by the police officers for stealing the t-shirts, but that's not the case. As Brandon turns out of McDonald's, he sees the worker standing in front of the Walgreens. With his window down, he delivers a solid flip of the middle finger as he drives off to push his t-shirts elsewhere.

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