Now We’re Cookin’ With Gas!

08.07.26 Chicago, Illinois

The aftermath of ReVival 92 is relatively calm, almost quiet at the AirBNB housing the competitors of Survivor. With everyone else set in their own routines following a long, arduous night out on the town, Kenny Freeman has his eye on the departures of Scott Hunter and Ivan Stanislav following their elimination from the competition. Kenny, half expecting to see his Red Army leader protest the ruling or be escorted out of the building, is surprised to see Ivan already packed up and ready to go instead. Turning his head, Ivan notices his comrade and gives a silent nod… but the gesture is not enough for Kenny as he approaches his superior.

“Hey,” he states flatly. “I’m sorry about what happened out there tonight. I’m sorry that you out of everyone got taken out of--”

“No need for apologies,” Ivan replies, shaking his head. “We both did what we could in this situation. It is shame that this is my departure, but now?”

He rests a hand on Freeman’s shoulder, nearly cracking a smirk.

“The duty falls on you, Kenny, to bring the Red Army’s name to glory in this competition. It is you who gets to carry our banner through the final stretch of Survivor, earn that shot at the Universal Championship… and to silence any doubt once and for all when you become the second member of the Red Army to hold PRIME’s top prize.”

“You really think so, Starshy Praporshchik?”

“You can do this, Kenny,” adds Stanislav, affirming the remark with a pat on the back. “I have great confidence in you.”

With that, Ivan grabs his suitcases before walking toward the doorway. He turns around for one final nod to Freeman before stepping through to make his exit. Kenny takes a moment to ponder Ivan’s words before heading up to his quarters. His duffel bag is still left open from his rush to leave for the bar crawl, something Kenny is quick to resolve as he begins shoving his belongings back in with a sigh.

“I really have to dig in deep now,” he mutters to himself as he struggles to zip the bag close. “Last one left of the Red Army AND the biggest underdog in this whole damn field… and that’s saying something, considering one of the other guys is new to this company.”

This realization causes him to chuckle, shaking his head before lifting the bag over his shoulder.

“Still,” he adds, a smirk starting to find its way through the look of disappointment. “I’ve made it this far, in spite of everything suggesting I didn’t have a chance. Most of all, I survived tonight. That’s gotta mean something, right?”

His inquiry is met with silence from the empty room, a silence finally broken by yet another sigh as Kenny makes his exit from the room. He quickly heads down the stairs, reaching the front door and leaving to the porch. From here, he sees his ride waiting just outside the gate… not the time vessel of Aeon Khronos, but a big van with Randall Schwartz and Jon Malakai sitting inside. Freeman walks through the gate, getting in the van from the back before the trio pull away into the night.

A Half Hour Later…

“Okay, so run that by me one more time.”

Not far from their initial encounter, we find the trio seated at the Billy Goat Tavern. They sit at their own table amongst the hubbub of the night, a raucous crowd elsewhere enjoying what sounds like someone’s birthday as the Masters and their apparent ally speak to a much more serious occasion. Kenny, who asked the question in the first place, waits impatiently for the big man to respond… or, perhaps, for his cheezborger to arrive, whichever comes first.

“Well,” Malakai finally chimes in. “I was in the middle of some very important business when suddenly, a flash of light overcame me. The next thing I knew, I was laying on the floor of some barn out in Missouri. I busted through the door, searching for any answers I could find, only to be met with someone telling me to seek you out.”

Jon points to Kenny, who raises an eyebrow at this.

“Further complicating the matter is that the man that approached me said you were a dangerous man to contend with, and to treat you as hostile.”

“I mean,” Randall cuts in. “Kenny’s got a pretty mean poker face, I guess, but--hey!”

Schwartz is cut off by Kenny smacking him upside the head. Kenny just scowls at him before turning his attention back to Malakai.

“What did this guy look like, anyway?”

“It was tough to tell in the dark,” Jon replies, thinking over the details carefully. “But I vividly recall the man was nearly a foot shorter than I, yet had a certain commanding aura about him. Short hair but quite the beard on him, too.”

“Quite the beard,” Kenny repeats, thinking this over. A number of men with magnificent beards spring to his mind, leaving him to pull a Winnie the Pooh and tap his head to get the proverbial gears turning when it finally hits him. “Ah, hell.”

“You know who it was?” asks Randall, which garners a nod from his compatriot.

“Xander Azula,” replies Freeman, shaking his head. “The guy that was supposed to train Randall here for actual in-ring competition, but disappeared when the time came. If I’m being one hundred with you, he’s a bit of an asshole.”

Kenny lets out a heavy sigh before continuing.

“Gawd, this explains a lot really. We hadn’t heard from the guy in months, and it seems he’s trying to stir shit up… but why?”

Jon just shrugs his shoulders at this.

“All I know is, I’m ready to go home. To put it frankly, it’s been tiring trying to track you down the past several weeks, and now we’re here and talking. What can you do to help me, Mr. Freeman?”

This leads to the Masters having a discussion amongst themselves, something we aren’t made privy to before Kenny turns his attention back to the big man.

“Well, Jon, here’s the thing. You caught me at a really weird time schedule wise, as I am in the middle of one of the biggest challenges of my wrestling career. My time off to do much of anything is at a bare minimum right now, but there IS something I can promise you.”

Malakai remains silent other than a nod of acknowledgement.

“I need to get through this Survivor competition and punch my ticket to the finals at Ascension,” Kenny adds. “We have just a few weeks left, but we can convene at that point and figure out the next steps. Somehow, some way… we WILL get you home, bud.”

Kenny extends a hand to his new ally.

“Can you work with that, sir?”

Jon thinks about it for a moment, eventually shaking hands with a nod.

“I can work with that.”

The response garners a grin from Kenny.

“Great. I have a bit of a favor to ask you in the meantime.”

Malakai is the one raising his eyebrow this time, curious and confused.

“I assume you’re looking for a ride to the remaining towns?”

“Well, that too…”

08.13.26 Undisclosed Location

And now, for something completely different.

A room nearly bathed in darkness, though a quick survey reveals traces of what’s to come. Suddenly, light fills the room, revealing what can best be described as a kitchen studio. The light bounces off a stainless steel countertop, next to which stands a wooden spice rack. We get a glimpse of racks with all sorts of cutlery before some sort of jovial background music begins to play. This signals the arrival of Kenny Freeman and Randall Schwartz, a reunion for the ages as the Masters of the Moscowverse step behind the counter with a smile on each of their faces.

“Hello, PRIMEates,” Kenny says, waving to the camera. “Kenny Freeman here, alongside fellow Master of the Moscowverse Randall Schwartz, and with the next round of PRIME Survivor taking us to a Kansas City BBQ Cook-Off, we are here to present the latest innovation from Foodie Magick.”

“That’s right, folks!” exclaims The Entertainer, reaching underneath the counter. “From the people who brought you the Food-O-Matic comes a refreshing new way to create the most important part of a good barbecue… the sauce!”

With that, Randall pulls a device out to set upon the counter. At first glance it appears to be, sure enough, a sauce maker complete with strainer. This, of course, raises the question of how innovative it can be… a question that is about to be answered by the Masters.

“Presenting the Sauce-O-Matic XL,” states Kenny, motioning to the device in question. “This bad boy takes the usual mess and stress out of making sauces of all sorts, allowing you to focus on deciding what flavors you want and how much you want to impress your friends and family!”

A literal star wipe brings us to a makeshift barbecue set up, where we see Jon Malakai standing beside the barbecue itself wearing the most ridiculous thing possible: a chef’s hat upon his head and an apron that reads “Thank Your Chef, Tip Your Waitress.” There’s a bit of a scowl on his face, indicating this was not what he was expecting as part of his deal as Kenny walks into frame with a pair of tongs.

“Let’s see what’s on the menu today, Jon!” he exclaims, pointing the tongs toward the barbeque. Malakai gives him a glare before opening the contraption, revealing a full set of baby back pork ribs, as one is want to do.

“Mmm, tasty,” adds Freeman, rubbing his stomach before he starts singing a familiar song. “I want my baby back, baby back, baby back, baby back…”

He pauses before looking at Malakai, who just continues to glare at Freeman. Realizing that Jon is not familiar with this world’s most famous jingle, he finishes the line for the big man.

“Ribs. Baby back ribs.”

Kenny clears his throat before continuing.

“Let’s see what we can do to sauce up those ribs, shall we?”

Another star wipe moves us back to the studio, where Randall is standing by with the Sauce-O-Matic XL. Next to the device is a large bucket, its contents hidden from us as The Entertainer gives us a smile.

“That’s right Kenny,” he says, motioning to the bucket as he picks it up from the counter. “We can make sauce out of just about anything, so let’s see what we have!”

He reaches into the bucket, pulling out various ingredients and placing them back on the counter. The first item is a large bottle of ketchup, possibly annoying literally everyone watching as he pulls out the second item, a bottle of Worcestershire sauce. The next item indicates the direction this is going, as a bag full of garlic is placed down next to the two bases for the sauce… and then things get weird, as a small pile of STRONKUMMMS meat products are plopped down on the counter. For his part, Randall looks at what he’s pulled out of the bucket, clearly and visibly hiding his disgust as he clears his throat.

“Um… what an assortment we have!” he exclaims, feigning a smile as he presses on. “As you’ll see, this device can process as well as the standard Food-O-Matic, while also straining where necessary to extract flavor from things you wouldn’t expect. Such as world-renowned STRONKUMMMS, the meat stick that doesn’t quit!”

We cut to a montage of Schwartz using the machine, from extracting that sweet, sweet STRONKUMMM flavor with the strainer to using the agitator to process the rest of the ingredients. The montage ends with Randall presenting the final product, a grin on his face.

“And here ya have it! I’d call this one STRONK Sauce, but I was told by our legal counsel that is not a good idea. So, we’ll call it Randal’s Secret Sauce instead! What’s the secret, you may ask?”

His smile quickly turns into a frown as he stares into the camera.

“That’s nobody’s business but my own.”

With that, another star wipe takes us back to Kenny and Jon. Kenny looks a bit confused by what Randall had to say, but tries his best to move on.

“Right, let’s try your secret sauce out on these wonderful baby back ribs!”

He reaches offscreen to retrieve a big squeeze bottle labeled “RANDALL’S SECRET SAUCE,” walking over to the barbecue. He gives the bottle a squeeze, squirting sauce all over the ribs as we get a PSA of sorts on the screen warning us to be careful when handling food on a barbecue or grill. Kenny finishes up his saucing before giving us another smile.

“And there we go,” he says, as a wipe fade takes us to the final product presented on a number of plates with the Masters and Malakai looking ready to eat. “Time to dig in and enjoy!”

Kenny hands a plate to Randall, who passes it on to Jon. Randall takes the next plate, and Kenny grabs the third plate. They give each other a look before taking a rib each, and taking a big bite out of the pork… which immediately garners a look of disgust from all three of them, trying to process the mystery flavor they’ve created with the special sauce. We get an immediate cut to Kenny and Randall trying to keep a straight face in the studio.

We can see Malakai in the background, throwing the rest of the sauce and ribs into the trashcan as Kenny speaks once more.

“Well folks, luckily for me I have a few days to get the hang of this whole BBQ deal,” he says with a light chuckle. “Still, I have confidence in the Sauce-O-Matic giving me the competitive edge in the cook-off.”

“It’s like bringing a steel chair to a normal wrestling match!” Randall exclaims with a smile, only to be smacked on the back of the head by Freeman.

“Nothing like it,” Kenny says, shaking his head. “I would never. What I would do, though, is accentuate the great taste of Kansas City cooked meat with the best sauce imaginable.”

“What about a good dry rub?” asks The Entertainer, reaching for his phone. “I know a guy who can--”

“Get outta here,” remarks Kenny, shoving his friend off screen. “Last time I heard about a dry rub was on a bad date, I don’t need you reminding me of--”

Kenny stops, looking at the camera as he remembers he’s still filming.

“Uhh… we’ll see you in Kansas City, Freebirds! Six competitors remain in Survivor, and your boy is ready to show his wide culinary range to advance ever closer to the finals at Ascension!”

With that, Kenny walks off, presumably to get the bad taste of Randall’s secret sauce out of his mouth.