Look No Further

The show comes back to life from commercial break, and picks up inside a locker room. Nothing fancy about it. Just a room. A bench. A chair.

The two occupants however…

Cancer Jiles: He’s never getting any of that done. Fuck. What if he’s not around for the main event? Double fuck. Which reminds me, Bob is supposed to stud trot me down to the ring. You could, too. I didn’t know you were coming back or else I would have–

Dooze cuts Jiles off.

Doozer: You would have asked me to do a hundred things before the match? No thank you. I’ll be fine back here watching it on the monitor. I’m still a little creaky, and god forbid I’m out there and something happens.

The Count shrugs off his shallow disappointment.

Cancer Jiles: Oh well. Next show. Say, I know most of those suitcases are empty, but inside one of them is my backup ring tights. Throw me that yolk yellow bag, would ya?

Dooze, who has made his wonderful, long awaited return to Prime Tee Vee, suffers from a bout of confusion. Not because he is old, but because most of the bags are yolk yellow.

Cancer Jiles: The one on the bottom. Next to the… forget it. I’ll get it. You sit down. You rest. You’re just coming back from… what was it again?

Doozer: Back injury. And thank you, I will.

Cancer Jiles: Yes, a back injury. Ironic, I’ve been suffering from a back injury for the past three years, yet here I am. In the main event. Going through my own bags like I’m some plebeian!

The Dooze takes a seat. Jiles throws some of the empty luggage around looking for paydirt.

Doozer: You done?

Cancer Jiles: No I am not done. I am just getting started! Where is Bobby!?! I bet he’s sneaking fucking bites that pig. Probably wearing my shadow T-Shades, too. 

Doozer: Definitely.

Cancer Jiles: Typical Honaleean crumb. I’ll tell you this much— if he lets me down, with you being here to have my back… maybe the Bandits trim some of the fat.

The Dooze wags a flexed index finger.

Doozer: No. That’s not happening. He’ll turn up. This is a big night for all of us. I know you are in the match, but we all are Bandits.

Cancer Jiles: We’ll see about that. If he fuc–

The door to the room suddenly opens. Bobby steps inside and quickly closes it behind him. He turns and faces his friends, empty handed. Oh, and he forgot to do something.

Cancer Jiles: I told you he was wearing my shades! I knew it! YOU SCUM! I hope you get frostbite! And where the hell are my tights!?!

Bob looks at Doozer, who instantly vanishes before his eyes.

Bobby Dean: That’s a nifty trick. He’ll have to teach me that one. Uh… about that.

The shot tries to end with a closeup of Bobby and his patented look of confusion. However, right before the feed can cut away a yolk yellow duffel bag soars in from left field and hits him square in the face.

Cancer Jiles: Oh look. You found them.