Playboy: I don't know, Tiff. Do you think this would make a great project, or what?
Tiffany: What do you mean? This is perfect. Ever since your sixth sense; finding the booty, came about in DRW, you have had more girlies run up to you than ever before.
Playboy: That would be right... and do you know how perfect this place would be for making a new kind of video? I mean seriously... Girls Gone Wild? Nope. Wild Party Girls? Nope. It's definitely going to be all about the new installment originally dubbed 'Wild Party Girls Gone Wild'.
Christy: Errr... anyway, how do you have the money to get this? Playboy, you work off of a wrassler's budget, and as far as I know, nothing more. So what now?
Playboy: Who said we were going to buy it? I shall conquer this land and claim it as my own.
Looking around for more artifacts from the Renaissance era, Playboy comes across an old school trojan. Heh. Trojan. Playboy. It kind of ties together if you think about it. Kind of. Anyway, he dusts off the top of it and directs the two females to it using his hands.
Playboy: *smokes pipe* Wouldn't you like to see eight naked girls straddling this? That would make for some good screen play and we would make money in the process!
Tiffany: I wouldn't like to see eight naked girls, no. But I'm almost positive the fat old hairy men would have no problem with it. In fact, this might be the beginning of an era.
Christy: Well I wouldn't mind recording it either. And just think... when you get passed this round against Juan Shan in the Coliseum death fight, we can go to a new country and get another large building!
This is the part of the story where Playboy's eyes bulge in shock. The pipe that always seemed glued to his teeth drops out and cracks on the marble floor as he raises his hand behind his head and begins to rub the back of it - possibly in an emotion of angst.
Playboy: A death fight? What are you talking about?
Tiffany: Damnit, Christy! You wasn't supposed to tell him about that!
Christy: Well... he might as well know before it's too late... I mean, why hide it from him? Right, Play?
Playboy: This is insane! What is the matter with that psycho Chief Event Coordinator of ours? I signed up for the Bar Room Brawl in the belief that I would be able to go to an ACTUAL bar and pimp!
Kneeling down now, Playboy feels as if he is about to vomit. He holds his stomach and motions for the ladies to go away for the moment and give him some space.
Playboy: This just isn't right... it's just not right...
Meeting with Dr Kiebler...
