House Party (April 27, 2020) - Promos

Bok Choy
Big Hungry Boy Saves Small American Town

Originally published in the Japan Times, translated into English

Former sumo wrestler and current pro wrestling star Bok Choy has taken his career to the United States to work for wrestling promotion Wrestling is Reddit (WiR), and he’s taking his philanthropy with him.

Bok “Big Boy” Choy is well known for using his size to dominate the ring. What is not well known are his contributions to small farms around Japan, and now the United States.

Choy was most recently spotted in the small town of Lima, New York. Choy bought all of the produce at the farmer’s market, helping the market stay afloat financially for some time.

“If it weren’t for that Big Boy, I’s be living under a bridge by about now,” said Bob Trailerhitch, a farmer in Lima. “That boy’s a saint.”

According to Trailerhitch and several other farmers across Japan, Bok Choy purchases all of the store’s produce and proceeds to put on a show of ferociously eating all the vegetables in front of all the farmers and market employees, while he compliments them on their harvest and hard work among other things.

“Bok saved the store and my marriage,” said cashier Karen McStoots, covered in vegetable shrapnel. “He made me value myself as a woman for the first time in my life. God bless Bok Choy!”

Choy himself is nothing but humble.

“I get to eat, they get to survive. I make new friends. Everybody wins!” Choy joyfully proclaimed.

Choy is in Lima for an upcoming wrestling event in the nearby town of Fairport, New York. On April 27, he will make his debut for WiR, teaming with the also debuting Hugo Ironblood (a big boy in his own right) to take on Dustin Devlin and Marshal “The Mangler” Wheeler. Choy’s teammate nor his opponents could be reached for comment.

“I am very excited to have my first match in the United States. I look forward to teaming with Hugo. I test my opponents to try and take me down! Or Hugo, for that matter!” Choy said jovially regarding the match. He then proceeded to ravage a head of lettuce, much to the delight of the farmers.

Choy plans to continue this practice in small towns across America as he tours with WiR. “How else will I eat?!” he asked, laughing.

Dustin Devlin
Scene begins by panning over a large Manitoban farm before following a postal truck that drives the front door of a farmhouse, with the postage worker knocking on the front door. Out comes a regularly dressed Devlin, with a bewildered look on his face. He takes the envelope from the postage worker and opens it to see that he has been invited to a WiR house party

Devlin: Wow, crazy to think that after 8 years in the Indies that I will finally be making my first ever appearance in an American promotion, I never thought the day would come for me. Now it's time for me to make a name for myself here and show the world what they've been missing. Now it says here that I will be partnered with... Marshal Wheeler. Huh a guy trained in combat sports. For the first time in a long time, I think I might be more scared of my teammate than I might be for... Bok Choy and Hugo Ironblood? Who in the hell decided to name themselves after a leafy green that is best enjoyed steamed? Eh that's neither here nor there. All I know is that I've wrangled bulls in the Stampede as a younger boy, so I know a thing or two about fighting a bit out of my weight class. Except bulls probably have more muscle than these lard asses do.

The screen fades to black, the only thing of note is hearing Devlin saying goodbye to his family. Devlin open the front door with his luggage in arm and truck keys in hand, but then hears the roar of a loud plane overhead, landing nearby. Devlin throws his luggage into his backseat and sprints towards the plane. Coming out from the plane is man probably in his 60's wearing jeans and normal clothing, other than a RCAF flight jacket, with the name Devlin on the front patch. Audio cuts away as Feeling Good by the Sheepdogs begins to play, with the elder Devlin giving his son his flight jacket. Dustin gets into the truck, and starts his drive to the WiR. Just before the hook begins, the camera goes to the inside of the truck, with Devlin looking right at the camera

Devlin: Oh, and that's why I like aircraft. See you soon

Devlin adjusts the knob on the radio as Feeling Good begins to play again as the screen fades to black.

Hugo Ironblood
Hugo: YEAH! I've finally arrived here in WiR and I just knew my debut was gonna RULE! But now I got the news it's gonna be a TAG MATCH! And my partner's gonna be a dude JUST AS BIG AS ME! Even better!

See, Bok Choy's a BIG BOY from across the Pacific! Us together, that's gonna be an international summit! Of HUGE MEN!

And it looks like he LIKES HIS VEGETABLES! Me, personally, I LIKE MEAT! The two of us make for a BALANCED DIET! Of PAIN!

The pain's coming for you two, Dustin Devlin and Marshal Wheeler! See, Devlin, you don't have any loyalty to ANYONE! But if you fight just for yourself, you ain't gonna survive a tag match against HALF A TON OF MAN BEEF!

And Marshal, I've seen your MMA fights! Yeah, you're intimidating! But I think you fight DIRTY! So I'm gonna teach you a lesson in FAIR PLAY when I give you the burning lariat and then Big Boy Bok Choy SPLASHES right on you for the 1 2 3!

YEAH!

Marshal Wheeler
Interior, an MMA Gym, empty except for Wheeler, the focus of the shot

“A tag team match... that damn Allen Paisner doesn’t trust me to fight on my own on my first night in his company? The only time I've ever fought in a team is when my little brother was getting picked on by some bullies and he came running to me for help. And let me tell you something, he didn’t do too much of the fighting.”

“Still, that’s fine. I’m not stupid. I know that to rage against the machine all by my lonesome would be ineffective in a place like this even as a man of my, and I do mean it when I say this, considerable talent.”

“But I digress. In this business, even the best need friends. So Dustin Devlin, I hear you’ve been all around the world, taking names wherever you go. That’s one way we can relate to each other. Now what I don’t know about that fixation with aviation you’ve got, but son I don’t give a damn what you’re fixated on as long as you pin the other guys shoulders to the mat. Let it be known that I, Marshal “The Mangler” Wheeler, am extending a laurel branch to you Dustin, and I am ready to win.”

“Now as for our opponents, Hugo Ironblood and Bok Choy. Ironblood says I fight dirty? You’re goddamn right I fight dirty Hugo, because I do whatever it damn takes to win! Like I said before, that’s where me and my new compatriot Dustin Devlin get along. Y’see in the mean back alleys of Bangkok, Thailand, you have to do whatever it takes to survive. Every day you have to fight just to make it home, and that’s after an exhausting day training in 90 degree weather at the Muay Thai gym. Yes I will gouge the eyes, fishhook you, kick you in the damn family jewels, because that’s as ingrained into me as breathing is. Why do you think they call me “The Mangler?” Hugo, you better be ready this monday night, because i’m ready to take you to the damn woodshed.”

“On the other hand, Mr. Bok Choy. I heard through the grapevine that you love to help out farmers by eating up all their leafy greens. Well Mr. Choy that’s simply heartwarming. I’d like to shake your hand and thank you for supporting farmers across this nation. Did you know that my granddad was a farmer? But that’s neither here nor there. Mr. Choy, you have my respect. However, business is business and me and my partner Dustin Devlin are gonna beat the kale right out of you at House Party on the 27th. I just hope that there’s no hard feelings.”

“See you soon.”

Dick Dover
''A close up of a computer monitor. It’s showing the ending of the WiR Independent Championship match, where Dick Dover tapped out to Santiago Martinez.''

Well, Santiago, you did it. You got in one good shot and caught me off-guard long enough to wrap me up and make me tap.

''The camera zooms out to show Dick Dover, an ice pack strapped to the back of his neck, sitting at a desk, watching this ending on a loop. He turns to face the camera.''

I got cocky, Sparky, and you got lucky. But you won’t be so lucky next time. And, rest assured, there will most certainly be a next time.

''He turns back to the computer and types something on the keyboard. A picture and profile for Kaitlyn Casey Jones appears on the screen. Dover smirks as he swivels in his chair.''

For now, though, I have to turn my attention to you, KCJ. This week at House Party, it’s you who I get to take my anger out on, if you can even drag your drug and booze-addled carcass to the ring.

That’s right, I know all about you, Kaitlyn. You might not have bothered to do research on me, but Dick Dover believes in due diligence. I know that even though you are a woman, you’re almost the same size as me. I know about you and your brother. I know about the downward spiral you’ve been on.

What’s funny is you and I are quite alike. You seem to have an idea of what it’s like to be Dick Dover. Only, you decided to give up after encountering your roadblocks. You wallow and self-medicate and go through life on cruise control.

I, on the other hand, decided to push myself. I studied film and read books and lived in the ring until I became a master at dissecting an opponent. And though I may have just lost a match, my shoulders still have not been pinned to the mat for a three count in WiR. And that’s not going to change this week.

Kaitlyn Casey Jones, if you show up and give anything less than 100%, then you’re in for a world of hurt. And no amount of hippie lettuce or hipster booze water is going to help you forget what I’m going to do to you. And, maybe, you will truly feel what it means to be Dick Dover.

''Dover turns back to the screen and starts watching a KCJ match. He’s singing under his breath.''

🎶Ridin’ that train, high on cocaine/Casey Jones you better watch your speed🎶

Kaitlyn Casey Jones
Kaitlyn is laying across a couch as the camera pulls closer

Kaitlyn: Jump over, Jump over the white cliffs of Dover! So I'll level with you I don't know who this guy is and I was kinda busy getting high watching the Umbrella Academy so I'm pretty sure I missed his match on the 4/20 show. But I mean, it's a 4/20 show, Of course I was going to get high, and it's not my fault that a small child murdering assassins to the delightfull tones of istanbull not constantinople destracted me from the horrors of watching Santiago Martinez do whatever it is he does nowadays.

Kait scratches her head

Kaitlyn: So uhh...I kinda got nothing. Chuck you wanna cut a promo for me?

Cameraman Chuck: I mean...That's not like...my...I'm not good at that

Kaitlyn: Awwwh Chuck you gotta bust my balls here. What's the dude's deal?

Chuck: You know you can look all this up right? like you can take one look at the guy? or just check the roster page on WIR.com?

Kaitlyn: I was elected to lead, not to read.

Chuck: Jesus. Well he was a referee, and became a wrestler, I guess.

Kaitlyn: Ahh, like a Benjamin Button Drake Younger. Sweet.

Chuck: I guess? Listen, Kait. You should do research at somepoint on what you've missed and who's new on the roster

Kaitlyn: Probably.

Chuck waits a beat as Kaitlyn just continues laying

Chuck: So...does that mean you're going to?

Kaitlyn: Listen, man. I put my all into this place and all I had to show for it was a broken relationship with my genuinely sociopathic brother, some pay per view paydays and a broken shinbone. They want me to work some newer guys, that's fine. I'll give them a rub, I'll probably put them over. But if they want more than the bare minimum from me they need to earn it.

Kait finally sits up on the couch, adjusting her position

Kaitlyn: Way back when I'd do more research into an opponent than anyone should be asked to. Not just who they were in the ring, and how to beat them, but who they are. Period. I did all my little investigative journalism so I could know what to say in a promo, how to push their buttons, how to get the best match out of them I could, to make them look good, and to make the booker man see the starpower I have. Then I had to fucking job to some cheap Dusty impersinator. You remember that?

Kaitlyn: I trained for weeks leading up to that tournament, and the guy who won fucking bounced almost instantly? So why should I learn about this Dover lad, if he hasn't stood out on his own yet, that's his fault. He can take this as an oppertunity to stick it to me if he wants. use this as a platform to get my attention, get people giving a shit. He can get as much shine as he needs off my in ring work. But I'm not going out of my way to do his job of making me give a shit.

Kaitlyn: So my gameplan until I'm given a reason to give a shit is, and will continue to be, get buzzed on white claw and wing it. Because the KCJ that pushed Brodie Hansen to the limit and then some built a legacy which means the KCJ of today can just coast along and enjoy.

Nelson Butterfly
Nelson: I probably shouldn't be doing this, but...

He is alone in Perilmorde's secret base.

Nelson: Listen. I can't not give you advice, Tyler. Obviously it's a bad idea to do that for your opponent! But, cmon, I have to be fair. And you've got to get back on track.

He stretches his arms.

Nelson: So you made your return not long ago and you did it violently enough that you got an immediate title match. I thought maybe you had a chance, being a former champion and all, but frankly you blew it.

He breathes in hard.

Nelson: You weren't fighting to win a title and I know it, despite what you said about deserving it. You were bailing, looking for a countout win that wouldn't do you any good, you even looked afraid of Rizwan. And assuming you got that win, and a rematch - you think you'd have the nerve to fight properly that time? Or do you think you can just keep delaying forever while you try to make yourself believe you're a champ? ...Anyway, that's all I've got to say on that matter. I would have talked to Presagio for strategy advice - but he's busy. Something about a matter of honor? Ah well. Listen, Tyler. Don't treat me like I think you're gonna. For your own good. I can break your arm.

Tyler Dylan
Infowars graphic appears

Alec Jonas: Now this is a moment we’ve been waiting for, I’d like to bring a guest on who is a true fighter. He’s a patriot, a hero, and a goddamn legend in the making. Please welcome WiR superstar Tyler Dylan!

Alec claps along w/ clapping sound effect, as Tyler walks on to the set of the InfoWars show wearing a nice tailored suit and walks over to Alec and shakes his hand while proceeding to sit down.

Jonas: Thank you for coming on Tyler.

Dylan: Thank you for having me on, I really love your show and have been following your show since the Bohemian Grove days. It’s a damn shame the main stream media has suppressed you and what you represent. I think you’re bringing truth to the table, while all the other networks are talking about about false garbage.

Jonas: I really appreciate it Tyler, now you just had a big match against this big Pakistan guy last week at an event and you almost had him beat but the bastard tripped you while you were walking back to the ring. The match ended up going to a draw after the ref counted to ten if I’m correct?

Dylan: Yes that is what happened unfortunately, I believe in my humble opinion. That Wrestling is Reddit has something against me, I believe they hate my guts and don’t want me to win any matches. How come the refs count faster whenever I’m getting pinned? Or getting counted out? Because they know how good I am and they are afraid of making me a big star because of my so called....”views on things”. They are a corrupt company, and they deserve to be put under for what they’ve done.

Jones: Sounds like a big mess honestly Tyler, I’m sorry you have to go through that. We’re a lot a like you know, people don’t understand us. The elite are afraid that we are too powerful, we are goddamn Americans!!!! Not goddamn commies from the coal mines of Russia or the dirt trenches of Venezuela. We are goddamn patriots!

Alec calms down a bit and fixes his collar a bit while clearing his throat

Jones: Anyways Tyler, you have a match coming up against some kid named Nelson Butterfly. Sounds like some god dam liberal from the left that cries and wines like a bitch. What’s your strategy going into the match?

Dylan: Well Alec...I’m not too worried about this guy. This guy is just a stepping stone to get back on track for the belt. I can tell you I’m not losing sleep over him and definitely not scared of this him. Nelson is a chump and can be easily beaten, hell I can probably beat the fucker with one arm. But that’s not the point, the point is to get my rematch with that big dirt ball. That’s the only thing on my mind right now, nothing else. Ikwan you better watch my match this upcoming House Party because I’m gonna show you what I’m gonna do to you when we step into the squared circle again. And after it’s all over, I’ll be standing above your dead corpse saying three poetic words....

TYE DYE BAYBAY!!!!

end

Mercenaire
''I am Mercenaire. WIR beware.''

Chip Rutgers, congratulations. You have earned the right to experience being in the ring with a special talent. I hope you understand just what an opportunity it is for you - I don't step between the ropes to face just anybody. But I'm not sure you understand quite what you are getting yourself into here. I'm not some runt who grew up eating alligator meat in the bayou. I'm not some backyard brawler. I will hurt you.

I have been training in combat sports since I was 8 years old. Every flick of my fist, every swing of my leg, every snap of my foot, has the power to send you into the shadow realm. Now you may be asking - why am I wrestling if I'm so good at kickboxing? It's all about the money. You ever see kickboxing on TV? Of course not. Nobody fights for fun. Follow the dollar, that's what it's all about. And on April 27, you're gonna find out just how little fun somebody can have in a wrestling ring.

And I'm not going to take you lightly. I've heard allabout you. Chip Rutgers they say. He's got a lot of heart, a lot of courage, and a lot of sand. Oh, I believe it. I know this isn't going to be easy. You're not gonna stay down the first time my foot finds your face. But none of it is going to help you one bit. I am bigger than you. I am stronger than you. I am faster than you. Try your hardest, and you may cause me to break a sweat. I look forward to it.

But at the end of the match, when you make it take a minute or ten, there's only one way this can end.

''Aterrisage Lunaire. Your winner, Mercenaire.''

Maverick
''The scene fades in, and we see Maverick, sitting on his couch at home with his beard grown out. A glass full of Pibb in right hand, and a bottle of Rum in the left. Mav pours a bit of Rum into the glass, and takes a sip of the Rum n' Pibb combo. Mav puts the bottle of Rum on the coffee table as he digs into his pocket, pulling out his phone and browsing Twitter. His notifications FULL of tagged tweets from WiR fans."@Jakson342: What the hell Mav! Selfish son of a bitch! What was that for? What's the meaning of this?! @wirMaverick""@DAVIDFUCK69: 0/5 FUCK @wirMaverick FUCK THE SHOW BUT FUCK MAVERICK EVEN MORE""@WangDF: Why did @wirMaverick betray all the fans and make a deal with @cashmoneykriegs !?! What the fuck?!"Mav continues to scroll through these kinds of tweets, before throwing the phone to the side of the couch and looking straight into the camera.''

Maverick: For the last few days, I've had nothing but questions hurled my way...

Mav takes a sip of his drink

Maverick: My silence shouldn't concern you. I've heard you all, loud and clear. I know you all desperately want these questions answered, and in due time, i'll answer every last one. But as far as questions go, I have one to ask of you, my friends.

Mav pauses, looking down, deep in thought as he shakes the glass, the ice rattling against the glass.

Maverick: Is there such a thing as Absolute Morality?

Mav takes another sip

Maverick: I'll tell you about this kid...this kid named Matt......now, little Matt has been a good kid all his life. He always shared his halloween candy with his friends, he held the door open for people, made Straight A's in all his classes, and he did his chores before bedtime. But one day, Matt got in trouble at school. He got caught fighting another student at Recess. I ask you, does that make Matt a "bad kid"?

Mav quickly sits more upright, waving his finger in a "no no no" towards the camera

Maverick: Actually, don't answer that. Ignorant people have already labled little Matt a "troublemaker". And those same ignorant people have already played Judge, Jury, and Executioner before Matt even had a chance to defend himself in the trial.

He takes another sip

Maverick: Ignorant people have alot of opinions, and the more ignorant they are, the more opinions they have. I've learned this all too well lately, and now, well.......it's time for those who are Ignorant to become Observant. In due time, everybody in WiR, the fans, the office, the wrestlers, they'll all have the chance to sit back.....and observe.

Mav finishes the glass and slams it on the table as we cut to black.

Stephen Romero
''We open our scene, where we see Stephen Romero in his Sacramento apartment, windows open on a bright sunny day, bright green trees coming up outside his window in a gorgeous springtime for The City Of Trees, (NOT THE GODDAMN FARM TO FORK CAPITAL, WE AIN’T ABOUT THAT HERE) and Romero……….laying in a chair if it was a bed, a half drunk chocolate milkshake on the end table next to him. Clad in all gray with a gray tank top he’s lazily let ride up his chest, showing a bit of his stomach, and gray sweatpants.''

Romero: It’s too damned warm right now to be wearing sweatpants, should I change?......Nah, it’s not bad enough to bother right now.

Romero sighs, grabbing his milkshake and taking a sip, setting it down again, before continuing to talk.

Romero: So, this shit fuckin’ sucks doesn’t it? That hockey stick scrambled my brains so the memory is fuzzy, but it really did go about as bad as it could’ve gone didn’t it? Ruined my birthday, my 29th! My last one before my 20’s pass and i’m an old man, sitting on the porch with other old timers reminiscing on the Panthers hosting breakfast for the whole community on the weekend because we didn’t have no way to get meals on a day where we weren’t going to school otherwise. I get upstaged by an elitist bastard who’s never gonna fuckin’ shut up about it now as he continues to spread his fucking drivel about those poorer than him. And I wasted that excellent cake like a fucking idiot! The bakers work so hard on that, break their backs to make it taste as good as possible, and I just suplex a man through it? The fuck was I thinking?! I’m better than that, I have more respect for people’s work than that! Fuck!

Romero then sighs and drops his head back, continuing to talk while staring up at the ceiling.

Romero: I guess I just gotta keep on fighting still huh? Who I got? I’m teaming with that Saunders fellow right? Damn good kid it looks like! Could show Ma-........one of the other guys in the match what a genuinely nice southern boy looks like. I don’t believe in hard work for the sake of it, when your day is 18 hours grindin’ and 6 hours bragging on social media about grindin’ without any play you’re gonna be miserable, take a dammed break y’all! But anyways, I do respect the hard work for someone’s genuine passions! I like dudes who find ways to break the mold like he does, that training will catch a fucker by surprise when their mist spray don’t work all a sudden!

Romero smiles to himself with an expression that says “this is the first time today I have done this”, as he picks up his milkshake, takes a sip, before he quickly loses said smile.

Romero: As for our opponents, it’ll be neat to see how far Harrison has come in a month. He’s got raw skill and power but no refinement, this is your chance to prove you’ve gotten better kid, don’t miss your swing, you don’t get chances for quality wins over veterans every day.

Romero: Now, with the other man..um...you know, I believe people are good at heart, I believe everyone has a quality person in them, that sometimes they just need the right circumstances to unlock it. That a man getting out of prison can turn it around if shown care rather than shown the door. And maybe i’m just a naive fucking child for thinking that aren’t I? Maybe people are just destined to end up fucking scumbags who act for their selfish interest, and i’m just a goddamn hippy flower child who should cut my hair get a desk job and get off the reefer. Maybe those who you place your trust and friendship in will all just abandon it the moment they see a chance to step on your fucking head in order to climb higher no matter how high on the ladder they already are huh?!

Romero: You know, even with bullshit like this, I don’t think that, not at all! I’m not sure i’d call myself an optimist, but i’m sure as hell no fucking cynic! Just because things aren’t better doesn’t fucking mean they can’t be. So Maverick.

Romero then breathes in deeply, then breathes out, as he then properly sits up, and stares daggers into the camera

Romero: I’m disappointed. I thought-no, I KNOW you’re better than this. I know you’re above costing honorable people titles, I know you’re above taking bounties and shaking hands with asshats like Krieger, you became the most successful man in the history of this fucking company all on the straight and narrow and you throw it away for a few fucking bucks?!

Romero: That’s what fucking kills me about you, you can’t even say you needed to do this to be successful, to make a living, this isn’t the man on the corner selling dope because he has no other career options, this is the billionaire hiding his money in Bermuda! You’re good enough to get it all without hurting a soul, you’ve proved this!.....but you chose to anyways for the momentary gain at the cost of your soul, the cost of all those you inspired, all those you helped through hard times, all those who tuned in to watch your matches so they could see the good guy win for once while the bad guys burn the world down around us. What a goddamned shame.

Romero: Mav, I know that man is still in you, it isn’t too late to think about what you’ve done. Can you be forgiven immediately? Maybe by me, certainly not by Byrne, but you can at least have mercy on yourself. The path you’re on leads to self-destruction, no matter how much money you got from that, no matter how alliences you secured, is it gonna make you, a wrestler in a small time promotion, a millionaire? Is it gonna make you an elite? Or is it just gonna put you at the top of the shit heap with the rest of us, who get the privilege of being the last one the true elites decide to leave for dead after fooling you into thinking you were one of them. No matter what you gained from this, you’re just gonna burn like the rest of us in the end if things keep as they are.

Romero: If you wanna save yourself, you’ll realize your mistake, band together with your siblings to set things right, and get ourselves some realprosperity rather than just a few pairs of gucci slippers! If you don’t come to Mav, then i’ll have no choice but to beat it into you. Show what a mistake you made picking your side, as the result of that is being in the corner across from mine, and i’ll show you exactly why you don’t wanna be there brotha. When you’re staring up at the lights, you’ll be seeing god’s light, and they’ll give you two options. Redemption and the chance for a better world, or damnation and inevitable suffering. Choose wisely.

''Romero then stands up, grabbing his milkshake, taking the plastic lid off, and just downing the rest of it straight from the cup into his gullet. As he then heads over to the camera, and shuts it off, cutting to static.''

Mason Saunders
* We open in a shitty dive bar. No music is playing, and only one man sits at the bar. That man is Mason Saunders*

Mason: Another beer please

Bartender: You sure Mason? You’ve already had 5 to drink

Mason: Yes I’m absolutely sure

* Saunders slurs his words, before a buzzing sound causes him to dig around in his pants. He pulls out the phone and looks at it*

Mason: Make that a beer to go

Bartender: You can’t leave in a state like this! You can’t drive!

Mason: Who said I was driving?

* Saunders winks at the bartender, before tripping over his feet. He recovers though, grabs a beer bottle from the bartender, and heads outside and whistles. A horse arrives and Saunders climbs on it*

Mason: Looks like it’s some more tag action for me tonight Bessie. Teaming with some guy named Romero. I better sober up before this match

* Saunders rips open the beer bottle and pours it right on his face. Most of the liquid misses his mouth. He then takes the bottle and smashes it over his head*

Mason: Good lord why couldn’t they have texted me earlier

* They arrive at Saunders ranch. Saunders hops off his horse and promptly face plants into the dirt*

Mason: I might take a quick dirt nap. No, I gotta do this

* Saunders picks himself up and walks to his door. He bangs his head on it for a while*

Mason: Time to do this shit

* Saunders opens his door and walks to his refrigerator. He pulls out a jar of pickles*

Mason: Well, down the hatch

* Saunders pops open the jar and pours the vinegar and pickles down his maw. He chews as some of it spills out his mouth*

Mason: God damn this tastes like shit. Certainly wakes you up now

* Saunders slaps his face a few times before marching outside and climbing back on his horse*

Mason: Time to fuck shit up