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Da Bing Bong Twinzz · (02-22-2026)

New Mexico

Da Twinzz have been spending a lot of time in the Cactus State lately, ever since they became acquainted with the bewitching “Prickly Pare” Mikki Folk on social media. This chick was DOWN bad for the boys. We are talking about letting them do anything and everything they wanted to her… plus she’s a goth baddie with a booty with an insatiable thirst for two huge white Monsters.

Check it.

So, as it so happens, the pair and the Pare got into no good, as usual. This involved a stolen Airstream trailer getting nearly knocked off its moorings by the amount of twin thrusting they put this poor girl through, which she was typically barely conscious for after getting her daily fix of the Twinzz’ “mystery cocktail” - a baggie of random pills that were guaranteed to leave even the heaviest users sprawled out and drooling.

MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz: "Yooooooooooooooooo bro bro, is this bitch supposed to be all blue and shit? She lookin’ like the ghost off a box of Boo Berry, shiiiiiiiiiiiii"

C-Munq nods down at Pare, who is definitely looking a little cyanotic on top of her usual psychotic.

Li'l Ca$h-App Yung Dolla Billyunnai$$e: “Shiiiiiiii we done fucked the oxygen out this dirty ho, bruh.”

MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz: "Yeah but for real though, fam, I think she might be dead or some shit. Them titties ain’t heaved in a minute and I been watching."

Li'l Ca$h-App Yung Dolla Billyunnai$$e: “On god?”

MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz: "Bruh I swear on my mama."

Li'l Ca$h-App Yung Dolla Billyunnai$$e: “Bitch don’t be talkin’ about my mama, I’ll knock them golds off your teeth.”

It looks for a second like the brother might have to squabble up, but Mikki’s mouth starts to overflow with white foam like a volcano for a third grade science fair. This gets the Twinzz standing up in their matching boxers and panicking.

MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz: "Shit bro we can’t be having this happen again. Especially in Mexico. They ain’t got a constitution over here or whatever. We’ll get put up against a wall and fired at by a dozen bad hombres with sombreros and machine guns."

Li'l Ca$h-App Yung Dolla Billyunnai$$e: “You mean New Mexico is in Mexico?”

MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz: "New Jersey is in Jersey ain’t it?"

Li'l Ca$h-App Yung Dolla Billyunnai$$e: “Damn I ain't never thought about it like that. You right as hell, though. We can’t be found with no dead ass bitch out here in the third world. Quick, go get them curtains off the window.”

C-Munqquee yanks off the grimy yellowed plastic curtains from the window of the Airstream, and then he and Ca$h-App work together with incredible tag team synergy to roll the limp bluish body of Prickly Pare up into the curtains like a five foot something long blunt.

The two of them carry out the slut roll-up from the Airstream to the back of their Dodge Viper parked outside. After shoving a bunch of stacks of cash guns, and bags of drugs off the back seat, the Twinzz are able to cram Folk into the back of the Viper without hitting her head against the frame of the car too many times.

MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz: "Okay bro head out into the desert."

Ca$h looks around at his surroundings, which are one hundred percent desert.

Li'l Ca$h-App Yung Dolla Billyunnai$$e: “Uh… yeah okay. Bet.”

The engine of the Dodge roars to life as the two brothers, still only wearing their matching Jacksonville Jaguars boxer shorts, keep their heads on swivels and speed out into the most middle of nowhere they can find.

After a few minutes of reckless driving, the Twinzz are satisfied that they can see nothing in any direction other than sand and cactuses.

They swing the car in a semicircle, sending up a screen of yellow sand, and then they kill the engine and hop out.

MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz: "All right, let’s get the shovels and start digging. We need to make sure no vultures or coyotes or nothing bring any ass cheeks or nipples out of here. We gotta bury this girl DEEP."

Ca$h-App tilts his head like a dog who hears the mailman walking toward the door.

Li'l Ca$h-App Yung Dolla Billyunnai$$e: “Hol’ up… what shovels, bress? I don’t drive around with farm equipment in the whip. What you think this is, a tractor or some shit? This a 2017 luxury sports vehicle not some shit for day laborers.”

MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz: "Well shit."

The Twinzz look at each other for a few seconds and then drop to all fours, or all eights I guess. They start digging into the ground with their bare hands, throwing up fistfulls of sand into piles behind them.

They work in a frenzy, throwing sand behind them like a couple of housecats burying shit in a litter box. They start sweating balls and get sand all over their dreads and their boxers, soon enough looking like they both got buried up to their necks at the beach. Unfortunately the task at hand is a sisyphean one, as all the sand they scoop out just slowly slides back in and collapses the desert grave before it ever really even gets dug.

Li'l Ca$h-App Yung Dolla Billyunnai$$e: “This shit ain’t working.”
Munq stares off into the afternoon sun, then snaps his fingers.

MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz: "We gotta set this bitch on fire. You remember how to rub sticks together like when we was in cub scouts?"

MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz: "Damn I wish we could like summon a interdimensional demon from the black abyss or whatever like Oz can, that would be real handy right now."

Li'l Ca$h-App Yung Dolla Billyunnai$$e: “Definitely more useful than going on Twitter and shitting our drawers every five minutes about ICE or Gaza like Mathias Syn does in his spare time, which is all of his time because he sucks and never actually like goes to work.”

MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz: "Yo do you think Syn getting his period over politics will keep Ozzy from landing a three thousand degree phoenix splash while weighing 500 pounds of pure muscle and running a Fortune 100 company at the same time?"

The Twinzz cackle with laughter as they go to the back of the car again and open the door. Mikki Folk rolls out of the car and onto the ground with a thud… and she groans.

MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz: "You hear that, bro? She ain’t dead,she’s just high as fuck and probably ODing as we speak."

Li'l Ca$h-App Yung Dolla Billyunnai$$e: “You know what we need? We gotta call you know who.”

MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz: "Man he ain’t never gonna let us live this shit down if we call him up, ain’t there some other option? You sure we can’t cook this girl up like BBQ?"

Li'l Ca$h-App Yung Dolla Billyunnai$$e: “Hell nah, this girl is a once in a lifetime lay. Call him.”

Munq sighs and drops his head, but then he pulls his cell phone from his rear waistband and swipes on the screen for a few seconds. The phone dials on speaker, and then…

“Yeah?”

MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz: "Yo, big bro. We need that shot."

“The NARCAN? Already? God damn it’s only been a couple hours…”

MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz: "I don’t need no lecture, Big. I’mma drop a pin, you just get your giant ass over here ay-sap, aiite?"

Munq hangs up and then swipes to drop the pin.

Li'l Ca$h-App Yung Dolla Billyunnai$$e: “How far out is he? Ol’ girl over here is starting to shake.”

MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz: "Ten minutes, tops. Plus you know how he drives."

Ca$h nudges Mikkie with his bare foot, scowling.

Li'l Ca$h-App Yung Dolla Billyunnai$$e: “We gotta roll her over, she’s gonna choke on all this puke…”

The boys kneel down and roll Prickly Pare onto her side so she doesn’t aspirate on her own vomit.

Some Time Later…

The Twinzz are both sitting on the hood of the Viper, swinging their bare feet and passing a join back and forth. In front of the bumper is Mikki Folk, still seizing occasionally, with her eyes rolled back in her head.

Li'l Ca$h-App Yung Dolla Billyunnai$$e: “What’s crazy is how fine she still looks even right now. I wanna clap them cheeks as soon as we get her back to normal.”

MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz: "Bro, you are so whipped it’s sad. One girl lets you spit in her mouth and you’re like all in love and shit…"

Li'l Ca$h-App Yung Dolla Billyunnai$$e: “Ain’t you one to talk? I seen you send another Edible Arrangement to Lexi Lemon.”

MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz: "Bro do not go there disrespecting my wifey… it was Valentine’s Day, aiite?"

A low rider appears off in the distance, heading their way. It is definitely bumping some Reggaeton.

Li'l Ca$h-App Yung Dolla Billyunnai$$e: “Finally. I bet this motherfucker stopped off to get some Taco Bell on the way.”

The truck skids to a stop just a few inches away from the Twinzz’ Viper, and the driver’s side door opens up.

Out from behind the steering wheel stands a seven foot tall freak of nature with a bag of chalupas in his hand.

[Image: Chat-GPT-Image-Jan-1-2026-07-35-47-PM.png]

MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz: "BIG BONG! Where you been, bro? I told you this girl was over here half dead didn’t I?"

Big Bong shrugs.

Big Bong: "I got hungry."

MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz: "Bitch you always hungry. With yo big ass…"

Li'l Ca$h-App Yung Dolla Billyunnai$$e: “Skip all this bullshit… big brother, you got what we need?”

Big Bong fishes around in his chalupa bag and pulls out a big syringe.

Big Bong: "Step back, you two. In medical school I saw a lot of bad reactions to this stuff. Even though I have advanced degrees in chemistry, biology, and medicine doesn’t mean things can’t happen."

Li'l Ca$h-App Yung Dolla Billyunnai$$e: “Fuckin’ dweeb ass dork always bragging about your grades and shit. Them report cards never got you no pussy.”

Big Bong rolls his eyes and then bites the protective cap off of the syringe. He waves the Twinzz back to get some space, and then he swings his tree trunk of an arm down, slamming the syringe right between Mikki’s ample breasts.

Big Bong stands up and takes a step back. The three stand in silence as seconds tick by.

MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz: "Shit, she died."

Prickly Pear shoots up into a sitting position and hollers into the desert.

Prickly Pare: "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! That was great shit!"

Big Bong crunches away on his lunch, tilting the bag toward Li’l Ca$h-App.

Big Bong: "Fimmimum Twiff?"

Rewind to Earlier That Day…

Da Bing Bong Twinzz are sitting in their boxers on either side of an unconscious Mikki Folk, each with an Xbox controller in his hands.

As they tap away on the game buttons, leaning back and forth in reaction to the game on the television screen, they start talking about their upcoming first round match for the March Madness tournament.

Yooooooooooooooooooo, Ca$hy… we are just a few days away from the sickest run in XWF history my bro. You and me, two big-dicked studs but only one DNA profile… how the fuck did we trick these idiots into letting us run the table on this tournament going two on one in every round? It’s like they was smoking some of the rocks we sling.”

“But honestly bro? Even I couldn’t have set it up better than this first round drawing. Mister Oz? Matt Syn? That’s like using the All-Madden team against the Jets. I pulled us up on Kalshi and we looking at being plus ten million favorites. Ain’t nobody think either one of those ugly fucks has even a single percent of a chance to win against me and my bro. The only close call pick is which one of those gooners is gonna take the pin. Do we Voltron Bomb Syn or do we Voltron Bomb Ozzy? Which one is more fun? Would we rather watch Oz shit his self on the way to yet another L on the record in spite of the fact that he’s some kinda necromancer wizard with a bank account bigger than Dubai’s and more muscles than the Long Island Sound? Or would it be cooler to watch Syn try to Tweet his way out of this ass kicking like the little 8chan shitposter that he is? Bitch’s timeline reads like Alex Jones deep throating QAnon and he ain’t got one useful thing to say about winning a fight against a pair of Duval County’s biggest thugs. I vote for him and his tiny dick taking the fall, what say you, bro?”

The game cheers as Ca$h-App has clearly scored.

”TOUCHDOWN! By the way in case y’all were curious we are both using the 2025 Jaguars, who obviously are the best team in the NFL. Ain’t nobody watched that lame as fuck Super Bowl, they might as well have put on a mud wrestling match between Little Money and Matty Sin. Just two losers with one loser being just a little bit better than the other loser. Y’all gonna see on Warfare when me and Munq take each of ‘em apart one piece at a time like Trevor Lawrence slicing and dicing up a defense. Mister O-Face been in this company for like 12 years and ain’t got shit to show for it except for a reputation as the guy who decides to lose THREE times on every Anarchy instead of just once. Overachieving ass. Like tying three cinder blocks to yourself before jumping into a lake instead of just one. Nah, C-Munq, my vote goes for beating Ozzy Never-shoulda-been-born in that triple threat match, bro. Syn’s just boring and corny, best we’ll get is a chance to watch him get ratio’d on the TL next time he decides RFK is a space alien or some shit. Beating Oz finally gets us the respect we deserve because we did the one thing that literally every other person in the history of the XWF has also done. SHIT!”

”INTERCEPTED, BITCH! Yo, you think we should check on Mikki?”

Da Twinzz go back to their Jaguars versus Jaguars Madden game, and Prickly Pare’s vision fades to black.

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