“That’s it, I give up!” Dooze says moments before a blind rage envelops him.
“Typical.” Cancer Jiles deadpans, leaning back into the cushions of his blue coach, awaiting the temper tantrum that is forthcoming.
“Typical? What are you talking about?” Doozer demands.
Cancer begins to chuckle before he replies, “You always give up.”
Roaring incoherently he jolts to his feet and with a mighty show of overwhelming strength he over turns the coffee table that sits between Bobby Dean, Cancer Jiles, and himself. The Monopoly board goes flying across the room, a cascade of multi-colored monies floats to the ground as Bobby Dean smiles.
“Dooze makes it rain!” Bobby chuckles to himself, as Cancer simply leans back on his blue sofa and quirks an eyebrow above his t-shades in Dooze’s direction.
“What? Don’t give me that look.” Dooze demands as he sits down in a huff, sulkingly draping his arms over his massive chest. “That fat piece of…”
“Now wait a minute, you know the rules.” Cancer admonishes, as Bobby looks at Doozer, shocked and appalled. “We don’t body shame in the eGG Carton. Sure, he could lose about two hundred pounds before they’re forced to amputate both of his feet. But we don’t say that aloud. You know how sensitive he is about his weight.”
“Fine,” Dooze amends, “That lovable but overly large piece of shit keeps buying every property he lands on. How!? How can he afford all these properties when he hasn’t even passed Go in the last 12 turns!?”
The big man remains there seated on the floor, with a shit eating grin clear on his face. “Cancer has been sliding me money under the table since we started.” He closes this admission with one of his patented giggles.
Dooze’s accusatory gaze immediately turns to a smug looking Jiles. “What the heck?”
“Come on, look at him,” Cancer says waving at the fat tub of lard seated before them. “He needs all the help he can get in life!”
“You ever think if we didn’t constantly coddle him, I don’t know, he’d be more of an asset to the team, instead of the dead weight that he is?” the Old Man asks, obviously having not taken his happy pill this morning. That or he must really hate losing at Monopoly!
“Have you ever thought, if he was more of an asset, that he would be better than you?” Cancer asks casually, smirking that smirk that makes a person want to punch him square in the mouth.
“Yeah, can you imagine if he was better than Doozer, then old Dooze could finally retire to that assisted living place we came across a few weeks ago?” Bobby asks, fondly remembering the old people’s home they stumbled upon not too long ago.
“Wait, who do you think we’re talking about, Bobby?” Doozer asks as Bobby begins the epic struggle of climbing to his feet. The question causes Bobby to stop on his knees, sweat obvious on his forehead as his cheeks begin to redden from the exertion. “Uhm, Cardboard Dan? Right?”
Cancer and Doozer can’t help but share a look between them, as Bobby continues with his struggle. “He doesn’t have a clue.” the crotchety Old Man says with a chuckle, the mounting tension in the room dissipates.
“The Winds of Change will eat him alive.” The COOLympian offers sadly.
“I feel like there is a fart joke somewhere in there,” Bobby manages to eek out as he finally gets to his feet, causing both Jiles and Doozer to break out into a mild golf clap for his effort. “But to be honest, I’m too tired to find it, so please, just pretend it was a good one, and it was hilarious.”
Yet another shared look of disappointment.
“Speaking of The Winds of Change, word is, you teamed with one of their dad’s.” Jiles, always one to get a derailed conversation back on track, asks Doozer who stands there wracking his brain trying to think of many, many, MANY teammates he’s teamed with over his illustrious (another word meaning LOOOOOOOONG) career.
“Who was his daddy?” Dooze asks, causing both Bobby Dean and Cancer Jiles to cringe. In this day and age “Daddy” meant something completely different.
“Just how old are you?” Bobby asks with genuine interest. “I mean, this guy’s father teamed with you so long ago that he’s now comfortably retired, and you’re still hanging in there?”
“Enerdoozer Bunny over here.” Cancer offers halfheartedly. It’s a weak joke, but hopefully it works.
We’ve got a fart joke, a Doozer is old joke, now all we need is a dick joke and an egg pun and we’ve met our quota!
“Forget Dooze’s former love life, let’s talk about Sid Philips!” Bobby exclaims with pure joy in voice. “I cannot WAIT to meet this guy!”
Yet another shared look as both Doozer and Jiles try to figure out what angle Bobby is taking with this approach. Both have a feeling their not going to like where it’s headed, but both are sadistic enough to let it play out.
““Now here’s a man who just grabs someone by the back of the neck and shoves their heads between his thighs!?” Bobby says with jubilation in voice. “Now that’s my kinda guy!”
There is an audible slap as Doozer’s palm collides heavily with his own forehead.
“Buddy, you might want to work on that in the future. Maybe we use different verbage? Or better yet, we just pick better people to admire…” Cancer Jiles says as Doozer nods his head vigorously.
“Man, what has happened to us.” Doozer asks the room, quickly plowing ahead before either Jiles or Bobby can offer a myriad of answers. “Has living up here in the eGG Shell White Tower made us soft, or what? People hear about the Tag Team titles and they’re not talking about the Bandits. They’re talking about The Kings of Popsicles, or the B Team, or even those boring guys from Fighting for Nora!
“I swear, it’s like we’ve lost our edge. Cancer can’t win a singles title if his life depended on it. He’s got the Youngblood curse or some shit.” Dooze once again plows on ahead before Jiles can retort, not that he could really say anything to refute the Old Man’s hateful rhetoric. “Bobby and I are the punchline of the tag division. I feel like we’re back in ole Chicago waiting to see Sex & Money triumph over the Bandits for the hundredth time.”
Just the mention of S&M brings bile to all three men’s throat.
“What are you suggesting then?” Cancer finally interrupts, actually curious as to where Doozer is going with all this. “I mean, you can’t stand there and talk about how we’re all dog shit without having some sort of idea in the back of that dementia riddled brain of yours.”
“Freebirds…” Doozer answers, his voice is unsure. As if the idea just came to him and he hasn’t fully processed the ramifications of his words. But that one simple word causes all three men to stop, and think.
“Freebirds.” Doozer repeats once more, this time with conviction.
One of the best things about PRIME running their operations out of Las Vegas, is the multitude of things people can do outside of work. Las Vegas is the land of debauchery. Bobby Dean has seen and done soooooo many things that would both impress and revolt you. Some times it involves food. Other times it involves women. And on those rare occasions it may involve both food and women at the same time.
Luckily for him, the Bandits are a judge free group.
Or should I say, they keep their judgements to themselves. Because after so many years of working with each other, Cancer and Doozer have come to realize that Bobby simply doesn’t care what anyone thinks.
But today is not a day of debauchery, no matter how hard Bobby makes it one. The three men find themselves surrounded by children, and families. The familiar tunes of circus themed music plays throughout the fairgrounds as the Bandits find themselves at a local circus show.
“I can’t believe you managed to drag me here…” Cancer complains, moments before his eyes light up at the sight of a vendor walking by with massive salted pretzels, with vats of sized beer batter cheese sauce. “I’ll be right back.”
They were then down to two.
“Has he still not returned your calls?” Bobby asks his older friend with concern both on his face and in his voice, as Doozer dejectedly shakes his head in the negative. “How many voicemails have you left him?”
“I stopped leaving one after the fourth one.” Doozer admits, sadly. “I still call him daily, but I guess he doesn’t want anything more to do with me. Here I thought we were becoming best friends…”
“Well, he is a bear…” Bobby says sheepishly, as if saying it out loud would crush his friend. “I mean, does he even have a phone?”
“Great SCOTT gave me the number himself,” Doozer explains, “And the automated response opens with a “Please leave a message for, RAAAAWR!” So I’m assuming it’s him…”
“Hey, just keep your hopes up. Maybe we can convince Great SCOTT to join the Bandits and you’ll get your Bear.” Bobby offers hopefully, knowing it won’t happen.
“Nah, Great SCOTT doesn’t need the Bandits.” Doozer answers gloomily. “He’s been pretty great lately without us. What could we possibly offer him at this point?”
As the two men carry on discussing the likelihood of a bear owning a phone, they happen to be making their way towards the large tent in the center of the fairgrounds. Just outside the tent flap is a large banner showing a picture of two bears, and their handler.
The names above each bear read: “Mediocre Bear” and his brother “Slightly Better Bear.” Their handler apparently goes by the name “Scottygood”
“Oh man this is going to be so much fun!” Bobby exclaims, grabbing a reluctant Dooze by the elbow and dragging him into the tent. “Come on buddy, we’re going to get you your bear fix, even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming!”
“It’s just not the same Bobbo.” Doozer offers, still dejected. “I mean, they just aren’t Great Bear.”
Days later Bobby finds himself alone in the eGG Den, sitting on Cancer Jiles’ blue couch, eating a bowl filled with a mixture of spinach, kale, quinoa, and sliced zucchinis. Hold your overwhelming sense of pride, Bobby has drowned the healthy mixture in a heavy dose of extra creamy ranch dressing.
As he’s sitting there scarfing down spoonful after spoonful, tempting fate, he knows if Cancer Jiles shows up to the Den and catches him eating on his couch again, he’ll probably see if the windows of the MGM Grand Hotel are as shatterproof as they claim. Or will we finally see Hell freeze as a 369 lbs pig flies over the illuminated Las Vegas skyline?
But luckily Jiles is with Doozer at the circus one last time before they pack up and hit the road. Doozer wanted to see his Bears one last time before they and Scottygood leave.
*KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK*
The knocking of the door causes Bobby to climb out of the couch. In the time it takes the large man to arise the knocking goes from a gentle rapport to an incessant never ending beat as if the person on the other side of the door was Nico McBrain himself.
*Knocknocknocknocknocknocknock* The door swooshes open as Bobby practically rips the door off the hinges in an effort to stop the annoying knocking. Standing before him is a young(ish) girl of approximately 15 years of age.
“Shit.” Bobby mutters as his face grows pale, and his palms begin to sweat.