B-Dubs and Chill [vs Generic Heel]

[The Circle Television Network]

BRIDGEPORT, CT
Following Grand Slam

Kenzi Grey and Donovan Hastings were ecstatic with their ‘victory’ over Sloane Taylor and Sebastian Bryce. Their methods left much to be desired, but the ends had justified the means…at least to them. For her part, ‘Big Beautiful’ Bobbi London seemed less gleeful, almost melancholy. Her role in the shenanigans had not been small, by any stretch of the imagination. It took a tremendous acting job from Kenzi, some misdirection, and a bit of feet holding on her part to overcome the 2019 WrestleStock Cup winner, but in the end justice was served…probably.

“Bobbi, that was perfect!”

The big Aussie looked up as Kenzi’s agent walked over, putting a hand on her shoulder and sporting a crooked grin.

“Yah mate. I-I just feel a might bad fer Sloane.”

Johnny’s face hardened and so did his grip on Bobbi’s shoulder.

“Let me make ONE THING…PERFECTLY CLEAR! That woman, if you can even call her that, is a SUCCUBUS! She started this and she got what she deserved!”

“I don’t know…maybe she didn’t even…”

Johnny cut her off. He clearly didn’t want to hear another word from Kenzi’s bodyguard/proxy.

“You did the right thing…and now, it’s time for you to enjoy the spoils of war!”

Johnny reached into his blazer, pulled out an envelope, and handed it to Bobbi.  She paused briefly, then tore it open, hoping for a fat bonus of blood money she could regretfully use for expenses. Bobbi paused, with a confused look on her face.

“Um, Mister Crusher…there’s no money in ‘ere.”

What’s in that envelope is BETTER than money!”

Bobbi brightened at another thought as she pulled out the contents, a hopeful look on her face.

“VAIN’S PHONE NUMBER PERHAPS?!”

It wasn’t…

_________________________________

It wasn’t money and it wasn’t her future ex-baby’s daddy’s phone number either…

“WELCOME TO BUFFALO WILD WINGS!”

It was a coupon for half off wings at B-Dubs…or, at least it had been before it expired 6-months prior. Still, Bobbi did love wings, as she had demonstrated to great effect at WrestleStock when she had rightly won the Nando’s chicken wing eating contest, BEFORE Generic Heel had stolen her trophy. She would deal with him soon enough.

In spite of Johnny’s lack of forethought regarding ‘payment’ for her ‘services’ everything had worked out.  In a bit of good fortune, the workers were all big wrestling fans and they were eager to give Bobbi the celebrity treatment that she was due as a two-title champion in XWF and 30-Second Promo. In fact, not only had they comped her meal(s) but after she obliterated their in-restaurant spicy wing challenge, they allowed her to whip up her own special Aussie recipe as a challenge of her own that would get her ready for her Chill match against Generic Heel.

The would-be challengers were lined up and ready!  Three of Bridgeport’s bravest eaters faced off against the one and only ‘Big Beautiful’ Bobbi London with a mountain of wings, slathered in thick black sauce, dotted with red and green chunks of pepper. Everyone held their collective breath until the signal was given to begin. Hands reached in, quick as lightning struggling to get a jump on the competition as the wings were shoveled into mouths, but almost immediately, it was apparent that this was NO challenge for mere mortals.

The first challenger, an eager middle-aged man in a ‘Bridgeport Bluefish’ jersey spit out the wing with the force of a cannon that sent it whizzing across the room. Bobbi was quick to take note, even as she continued plugging away, talking with her mouth full…

“One challenger already sent ‘ome;
Weak lil' bitch couldn’t even nick the bone!
Yous should ‘ave left this contest alone;
Nothin' but a whack ass Generic 'eel clone!”

The man had to be helped away from the table, still choking and gagging. The two other challengers that remained weren’t in much better shape than the first man to exit, but they soldiered on as best they could. Bobbi plowed through wing after wing with ruthless efficiency as bones, stripped clean, piled up beside her.

The second one to exit the contest was an older gentleman with the rugged appearance of a biker. His long thick beard was slathered in black sauce with bits of seasoning, but it was soon joined by an explosion of vomit that sent him stumbling towards the nearest restroom.

Bobbi was quick to take note of his exit…

“OH SNAP! Do me eyes deceive;
Didn’t even say bye before ‘e just up and leave!
Rude like Generic 'eel, that’s me pet-fuckin’ peeve;
Gonna ‘appen again on Chill, yous best believe!”

The last challenger proved to be determine to win the Bobbi London Wing Challenge; a massive woman, nearly her equal. The face of ‘The Vain One’ was stretched across her massive frame, making the handsome man look more like a sad pale-skinned Gumby.

All the same, she fell behind and then, came full stop as her eyes bugged out.  She grabbed for her gut and her rump simultaneously, a horrendous explosion ushering from both ends. Bobbi was the clear winner, and she took a victory 'rap' around the table as the fans cheered and clapped while she continued eating…

“Nice try there Sheila, the end was almost in sight;
Also nice taste in apparel, but that shit is 7-sizes too tight!
Yous came the closest to winning this chicken wing fight;
But not even Generic 'eel can eat wings smothered in vegemite!”

A collective groan came from the patrons, but Bobbi wasn’t done…

“Monday night in Webster Bank Arena shits gonna get real;
There’s gonna be a fight, not some chicken eating meal!
I’s gonna crush that idiot calling ‘imself the Generic 'eel;
I’s about to commit a murder on the next episode of Chill!”

Bobbi snatched up a fist-full of wings as she walked out amidst a hail of cheers. She was ready to deal with the SWINE who had stolen her title!