Then, the feed briefly cuts out.
When ReVival 10 comes back to life it does so in shell white and yolk yellow color. The instrumental version of “I am the COOL” is softly playing.
Then, as the feed further unscrambles, two men of honor and prestige are seen in the center of the stage. Center stage being outside the MGM Grand and on the streets of Las Vegas.
Bobby Dean: Do you really think he’s going to say yes this time?
Doozer: I think we have to keep on trying. As weird as it sounds, I’ve grown attached to the bear. Could be because we have similar tastes in EDM, or it could be that he too doesn’t like forest fires. Regardless, he’s grown on me.
Bobby Dean: Is that what fornicating with animals is called? I always wondered…
Out from stage left, a third man also born of prestige and honor appears.
Cancer Jiles: No, it’s just called sex for you.
Bobby, cut in half, frowns. Dooze shakes his head at being a second too late to tell the joke.
Cancer Jiles: Just kidding, Bob. Lighten up. HA.
The Honaleen scoffs.
Cancer Jiles: So tell me, say yes to what? And why couldn’t we talk inside?
Bobby Dean: Because it’s a cold open. Doesn’t it have to be outside?
Cancer Jiles: What?
Bobby Dean: I thought you had to be outside for a cold open. Is that not the case?
Cancer Jiles: A cold open means the audience isn’t warmed up yet. It means you jump right in. I don’t think it matters if you’re inside or outside.
Oblivious, probably from partying all night, Doozer shrugs his shoulders.
Bobby Dean: Oh… well in that case I know you’ve been busy pooping blood, but we never got around to seeing if GREAT SCOTT–
Doozer: AND GREAT BEAR!
Bobby Dean: And of course GREAT BEAR, we never got around to seeing if they were going to become part of the yolk. I don’t want it to linger on and become another Max Shell case. Plus, we did lose a man this week. Just saying.
Now the Maestro is the one who scoffs.
Cancer Jiles: I believe my stance was over my dead body. Here I am, above ground still so I guess you could say that nothing has changed.
Bobby Dean: Okay then, COOL guy. When you say over your dead body– have you looked at yourself lately? You’re a mess. Who knows what’ll happen to you next?
Doozer tries to vanish, but he can’t. Or he doesn’t. Maybe it only works indoors. Damn cold open.
Bobby Dean: This place… the supposed war against PRIME… it’s killing you. Some see it. We know it. I’ve seen those bloody tissues in the waste basket. I’ve reused them for toilet paper in a pinch. I know more than anyone just how bad it is. You were talking to yourself the other night at like, 3AM.
Doozer vomits at Bob’s revelation. Right there, for all of Fremont Street to see. Jiles doesn’t. Instead, he reaches out and places his hand on Bobby’s shoulder. He lowers his shades, winces like he bit into an onion, and then quickly puts them back on because the sun is still up in Sin City.
Bobby Dean: What I’m getting at is we would love your blessing before you’re unable to give it.
The entire street goes silent. A dust ball dances through the air. A bird flies into the side of a building, breaking its neck. Jiles’ hair starts to radiate a vibrant shade of waterfall yellow. Doozer braces. Bobby smiles, always aloof.
Cancer Jiles: Your concern is cute, annoying, and unnerving. I do appreciate the lengths you’ve taken, but I assure you I’m fine. I’ll even prove it. You want to make the Bandits GREAT again, well then if I lose in the main event tonight, MY main event, the home of the COOL as some of the boys and girls in MESSIAH are calling it, then we’ll actually talk about it. Not in the shitty side discord either, I mean the other shitty side discord with him in it.
Bobby Dean: You mean that?
Cancer Jiles: Of course. If you guys think that’s what we need, then sure. I’m a team player. I want what is best for the Bandits. If that means me losing AGAIN in the main event then so be it.
Bobby Dean: Then deal!
Bobby and Dooze high five.
Doozer: Not that we’re cheering against you or anything. We’d never.
Cancer Jiles: Of course not.