<![CDATA[X-treme Wrestling Federation - High Stakes II RP Board]]> https://xwf1999.com/ Fri, 08 May 2026 02:38:18 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[hit me like a ton of bricks]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28091 Mon, 12 Jun 2017 10:00:04 -0700 drezdin5788]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28091 [color=#32CD32][size=medium][font=Arial](the scene opens up as we see Drezdin on Skype doing a ultra rare impromptu promo in his private hotel suite)

Drezdin:heya xwf universe it is me Drezdin again, I just wanna say that this is a ultra rare thing for me to do a impromptu promo so this is hopefully goin to a treat for ya. You see xwf universe for the last 92 hours or so I was thinking about something munching on something that caught my attention that hit me like a ton of bricks like it never did in the first place. The one thing that I was munching on or should I say that had hit me like a ton of bricks was that where had mentioned that our reigning xwf television champion Thomas Nixon was going to defend the title in a six pack challenge tornado style match for the title and where he doesn't have to be pinned or submit or even having to be involved in the match loose the belt,...xwf universe come with me and imagine this with me. Since me and jack Cain are the only two that can take his title away from him of the remaining five, let's say that at high stakes 2 in the match he does loose the belt to one of us, then let's just say that shortly there after of loosing the belt to one of us he gets out of the ring marches down the asile through the curtains keeps on marching twards the boss's office and tells him the he's going invoke his rematch clause and the boss grants his wish. Not knowing or realizing that either me or mister jack Cain has a stipulation perk in his quote on quote back pocket. And last but not least also let's just say that he's preparing for his rematch for he can try to get what he lost at high stakes two,...and looses that match too. Imagine what would happen if that had happen to him, that's going 0-3 for ya right there. Though I do not know him professionally muchless personally, but I guarantdamntee ya that when that does if it does happen he's going to run a freakin muck like a damn fool. While the entire xwf roster and management laughing their asses off and pissing their pants like a Russian race horse. None the less, The mental state, physically, & his well being when aaaaallllllllll of that happens, I also guarandamnteed you that he will be in a extra padded straight jacket for his own safety. He's goin to bebouttanof his damn mind like a mudda fucka. But as long as he's not going to come out as the television champion at high stakes two...even though I'll be the one coming out the xwf tv champion...I'll be a happy camper cause I know that his truest and darkest nightmare has come true.

(The scene fades to black as he falls on the floor right under his girlfriends skirt)]]> [color=#32CD32][size=medium][font=Arial](the scene opens up as we see Drezdin on Skype doing a ultra rare impromptu promo in his private hotel suite)

Drezdin:heya xwf universe it is me Drezdin again, I just wanna say that this is a ultra rare thing for me to do a impromptu promo so this is hopefully goin to a treat for ya. You see xwf universe for the last 92 hours or so I was thinking about something munching on something that caught my attention that hit me like a ton of bricks like it never did in the first place. The one thing that I was munching on or should I say that had hit me like a ton of bricks was that where had mentioned that our reigning xwf television champion Thomas Nixon was going to defend the title in a six pack challenge tornado style match for the title and where he doesn't have to be pinned or submit or even having to be involved in the match loose the belt,...xwf universe come with me and imagine this with me. Since me and jack Cain are the only two that can take his title away from him of the remaining five, let's say that at high stakes 2 in the match he does loose the belt to one of us, then let's just say that shortly there after of loosing the belt to one of us he gets out of the ring marches down the asile through the curtains keeps on marching twards the boss's office and tells him the he's going invoke his rematch clause and the boss grants his wish. Not knowing or realizing that either me or mister jack Cain has a stipulation perk in his quote on quote back pocket. And last but not least also let's just say that he's preparing for his rematch for he can try to get what he lost at high stakes two,...and looses that match too. Imagine what would happen if that had happen to him, that's going 0-3 for ya right there. Though I do not know him professionally muchless personally, but I guarantdamntee ya that when that does if it does happen he's going to run a freakin muck like a damn fool. While the entire xwf roster and management laughing their asses off and pissing their pants like a Russian race horse. None the less, The mental state, physically, & his well being when aaaaallllllllll of that happens, I also guarandamnteed you that he will be in a extra padded straight jacket for his own safety. He's goin to bebouttanof his damn mind like a mudda fucka. But as long as he's not going to come out as the television champion at high stakes two...even though I'll be the one coming out the xwf tv champion...I'll be a happy camper cause I know that his truest and darkest nightmare has come true.

(The scene fades to black as he falls on the floor right under his girlfriends skirt)]]> <![CDATA[It's Showtime!: RP #9]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28136 Mon, 12 Jun 2017 00:01:13 -0700 TD1]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28136
Chris Chaos took on five of the top stars at the time to win the gold. Yes. Unless you consider the fact two of the biggest names in that match shit the bed and never bothered to release a single promo. And one of them were Peter Gilmour. Then Universal Champion, Peter Gilmour. So yes, Chris, you were the Universal Champion. You were the top dog in this industry for a couple of months and you did earn your way there.

That said,[/duke] he smiles, because that’s what he does. [duke]You need to realize that your time as champion was one of transition. I don’t need to explain that to those watching what I mean. It’s a new era, Chris. The competition is better and only getting brighter. Much of it is passing you up and the sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be. The sooner you realize that you need to change, the better off you’ll be. Its time for you to step aside for the next top dog… or since so many like to make my youth a thing, its time for Puppy Power.

I kid.

Well sorta.

There isn’t a single man that couldn’t call you a fighting champion. Actually… just like you’ve been doing all week, you’re wrong again. You defended against Peter Gilmour and lost to Gabe Reno. Lost to Gabe Reno. Lost to Gabe Reno. Lost to Gabe Reno.

Is it driving you nuts yet?

Does your trouble with the former champion get to you? Because you just compared me to that asshat and that’s hurtful Chris. What does the number of promos have to do with anything? You do realize these matches are won and lost in the ring right? They aren’t won and lost in the promo upload section of the XWF website. Oh and, before I move on… what exactly is a layout? What do you mean by crayola colors?

Jimmy Caedus.

The long haired desert hillbilly that we all know and love.

This man has dedicated much of his allotted air time that he barely used, by the way, to talk about WHY I joined AX3 and how it was BECAUSE I needed to get close to the universal Championship. He continues that strategy based on me saying that pretty much everyone is out for themselves. It’s a pointless argument and I’ll tell you why. Because I never needed AX3 to do anything. I never needed AX3 to get to the Universal title. I never joined AX3 to serve myself, Jim. That’s a fact that’ll become clear soon enough. I became the number one contender while Chris Chaos was still the champion. I remained the number one contender during the very short lived, thank god, Renoverse era. I was still the number one contender when you put out his fires and I remain the number one contender even now. I do have my reasons for accepting YOUR invitation to join AX3. See that’s the thing, right Jim? The only reason I’m in AX3 is because of your invitation. So as much as you fire away at Reno for wanting to get all his contenders on his team of Iconoclassless assholes, didn’t you kind of do the same thing? Didn’t you offer your invitation to me only AFTER I was number one contender? Only AFTER you snuffed out the Renoverse?

Yes. Yes, Jim. I am working with Theo Pryce. A man that’d sooner shoot me in the back than look at me. I’m absolutely working with him. I said “hey Unc, I’m the number one contender so let’s do an AX3 main event at High Stakes and put that fledgling little stable out of its misery. Let’s destroy them from the inside.”

Is any of that true?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Regardless of what you think and why you think it, I do have ulterior motives for accepting your invitation. It has nothing to do with the Universal title. As much as I desire being the man around here, sometimes, things are bigger. They're closer to the heart. And that is exactly what you said it was- friendship.

Did you ever get the feeling that Theo Pryce made this match just to cause greater turmoil? I mean you're so into this conspiracy theory that you're slinging shit at me because he's my uncle. You're slingin' shit at me, because I am your top contender and YOU invited me in.

Don't call me a traitor because that's not what I am.

Call me a martyr, because I'm about to take an ass whooping for what is right.

Call me a Trojan horse... because that's what I am.

But at the end of the night, I'll be the Universal Champion and all your questions get answered. Jim, I am better than you, and you're going to find that out at High Stakes.[/duke]

Click.

Fade.]]>
Chris Chaos took on five of the top stars at the time to win the gold. Yes. Unless you consider the fact two of the biggest names in that match shit the bed and never bothered to release a single promo. And one of them were Peter Gilmour. Then Universal Champion, Peter Gilmour. So yes, Chris, you were the Universal Champion. You were the top dog in this industry for a couple of months and you did earn your way there.

That said,[/duke] he smiles, because that’s what he does. [duke]You need to realize that your time as champion was one of transition. I don’t need to explain that to those watching what I mean. It’s a new era, Chris. The competition is better and only getting brighter. Much of it is passing you up and the sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be. The sooner you realize that you need to change, the better off you’ll be. Its time for you to step aside for the next top dog… or since so many like to make my youth a thing, its time for Puppy Power.

I kid.

Well sorta.

There isn’t a single man that couldn’t call you a fighting champion. Actually… just like you’ve been doing all week, you’re wrong again. You defended against Peter Gilmour and lost to Gabe Reno. Lost to Gabe Reno. Lost to Gabe Reno. Lost to Gabe Reno.

Is it driving you nuts yet?

Does your trouble with the former champion get to you? Because you just compared me to that asshat and that’s hurtful Chris. What does the number of promos have to do with anything? You do realize these matches are won and lost in the ring right? They aren’t won and lost in the promo upload section of the XWF website. Oh and, before I move on… what exactly is a layout? What do you mean by crayola colors?

Jimmy Caedus.

The long haired desert hillbilly that we all know and love.

This man has dedicated much of his allotted air time that he barely used, by the way, to talk about WHY I joined AX3 and how it was BECAUSE I needed to get close to the universal Championship. He continues that strategy based on me saying that pretty much everyone is out for themselves. It’s a pointless argument and I’ll tell you why. Because I never needed AX3 to do anything. I never needed AX3 to get to the Universal title. I never joined AX3 to serve myself, Jim. That’s a fact that’ll become clear soon enough. I became the number one contender while Chris Chaos was still the champion. I remained the number one contender during the very short lived, thank god, Renoverse era. I was still the number one contender when you put out his fires and I remain the number one contender even now. I do have my reasons for accepting YOUR invitation to join AX3. See that’s the thing, right Jim? The only reason I’m in AX3 is because of your invitation. So as much as you fire away at Reno for wanting to get all his contenders on his team of Iconoclassless assholes, didn’t you kind of do the same thing? Didn’t you offer your invitation to me only AFTER I was number one contender? Only AFTER you snuffed out the Renoverse?

Yes. Yes, Jim. I am working with Theo Pryce. A man that’d sooner shoot me in the back than look at me. I’m absolutely working with him. I said “hey Unc, I’m the number one contender so let’s do an AX3 main event at High Stakes and put that fledgling little stable out of its misery. Let’s destroy them from the inside.”

Is any of that true?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Regardless of what you think and why you think it, I do have ulterior motives for accepting your invitation. It has nothing to do with the Universal title. As much as I desire being the man around here, sometimes, things are bigger. They're closer to the heart. And that is exactly what you said it was- friendship.

Did you ever get the feeling that Theo Pryce made this match just to cause greater turmoil? I mean you're so into this conspiracy theory that you're slinging shit at me because he's my uncle. You're slingin' shit at me, because I am your top contender and YOU invited me in.

Don't call me a traitor because that's not what I am.

Call me a martyr, because I'm about to take an ass whooping for what is right.

Call me a Trojan horse... because that's what I am.

But at the end of the night, I'll be the Universal Champion and all your questions get answered. Jim, I am better than you, and you're going to find that out at High Stakes.[/duke]

Click.

Fade.]]> <![CDATA[Killing the Fly]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28135 Mon, 12 Jun 2017 00:00:58 -0700 Doctor Louis D'Ville]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28135




                                                                                                                              





































































[Image: XyTjvsM.png]


[Image: Kd641BT.png]




CONTINUED FROM "Ignorance is Bliss"

Mastermind gains his footing and stumbles towards the front of the helicopter. Doc charges towards him and grabs a hold of him as he dives out. The chopper was just soaring past the cliff side when the dove out and managed to land in a large group of bushes which managed to somewhat break their short, yet hard fall. The aircraft nose dived towards the water but clipped the side of the cliff causing it to spin and crash into it. Flaming pieces of it fell into the sea after it exploded in an instant.

Doc and the Master of Minds rolled out of the bush together and lied there to catch their breath for a moment. Mastermind is seriously injured, a possible broken arm, leg, or even back. The doctor looks over to his pursuer with a grin.

Long time no see?

Mastermind huffs and puffs, doing everything to possibly shake off the pain from the fall.

I don't know what you're trying to do, but I told you, I will have no part of it.

Doc laughs.

And you won't! You're the one involving yourself.

You've manipulated and abused my cherished items once before. Your lies and deception hold true through the words of everyone that's spoken ill of you before.

Oh, you're breaking my heart.

Doc says sarcastically.

This ends here doctor. I will not submit. I will not give up until I've stopped you.

Doc rises up, stiff as a board, like a vampire from it's coffin. He shoots down a look to Mastermind who meets the doctor's gaze with wide eyes.

You fool.

Doc smiles and chuckles to himself.

What makes you think you have what it takes to stop me? If you've failed to see, my recruitment of the Master of Minds all that time ago did NOT revolve around your skill nor abilities. Hence the mirror. Hence the mansion. Hence the---

Doc feels around in his pockets for the watch. It's not there. He feels around several times more, over and over again. He notices Mastermind sneak out a chuckle of his own and sees the pocket watch gripped tightly within his fist. It seems to be his only working limb though and, even so, he barely has the strength to maintain his grip on it.

You won't win.

Mastermind manages to gasp out. The doctor laughs and approaches his downed foe. He reaches down and grabs a hold of the Throat of Mastermind and lifts him straight up into the air. Mastermind lets go of the watch as he reaches up to try and break Doc's grasp and it falls to the ground.

Oh, my friend.

Doc begins walking towards the edge of the cliff.

But I already have.

He reaches the edge and holds the Master of Minds over it.

I've squashed much bigger bugs than you, you pathetic little fly. You made a mistake getting involved in my business. You could have easily sat back and just handed over what I desired, but I knew you were far to noble for that, am I right?

Mastermind continues to dangle and struggle at the grip of the doctor. He swings his arm, attempting to hit the doc and break the hold. He barely scathes him though, as Doc's arm has seemed to have grown a few feet longer that what it should be.

Now, you've managed to sacrifice everything for nothing.

He squeezes his grip on Mastermind's throat with a sinister look in his one good eye.

Hey Doc!

Doc's head whips around to see Trevor standing in the middle of the road holding the pocket watch. The sinister look leads to a more confused one.

What?!

Trevor smiles and reaches for the knob on the top of the watch.

Fuck you.

Doc's eyes light up and he throws Mastermind back to the ground. He begins to approach Trevor and every stomp seemed to vibrate the ground. Trevor starts winding the watch backwards what seemed like a thousand times.

NOOOO!!!!!!!!!

The world around them becomes even more flaky and wavy than before. Mastermind manages to look up and see what is happening. He closes his eyes and manages to form a smile and a sigh of relief, even without knowing his fate after Trevor's actions.

Stop you fool!

Doc's image begins to fade back and forth from himself to static. He staggers backwards as Trevor disappears into thin air and the watch drops to the ground. He turns to face Mastermind, who is also flashing back and forth from static then eventually vanishes.

Fawwk.

Several chains one by one burst out of the pavement and wrap around Doc's arms and neck. They pull him down but he fights back, breaking a couple in the process, but more fly up and tangle around him and pull him to the ground. He continues to fight, but more and more and more wrap around him and eventually pull him down through the ground.


Trevor bounces up from his couch like he was hit with a defibrillator. He falls from it onto the floor, but shoots right backup to his feet. He looks around and realizes he's in his old apartment before his first encounter with the good doctor. It's trashed with liquor bottles and the table by the couch is covered with empty stamp bags and remnants of heroin, among other things. Beside them is his police badge, which looks like he was using to cut some of the other drugs up. He picks it up from the table and looks upon it in admiration. He then does his best to clean it off with his shirt and shoves it into his pocket.

He stands in awe for a moment, feels the side of his head and his abdomen, and rushes into the kitchen a few feet away. He goes straight for the garbage can and pulls the bag from it then rushes back into the living room throwing the drugs, needles, bottles of liquor, full or not, all into the garbage bag. He rushes out the door with it and nearly falls down every step on his way down the three floors to the ground level. When he reaches the bottom, he goes out the double doors at the front of the building and out across the street to the small Thai restaurant and throws the bag into the dumpster and slams it shut. He slams his back against it and slides down to the ground and nearly sobs to himself.... Swearing that if it's a real second chance, he would not fuck it up at any cost.


Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The old brick walls of this prison have never kept the water out like it should have. Every time it rains, he ceiling, the walls, even the floor leaks with water from the outside. It's a dark, damp, lonely hell inside of this place, even filled to it's capacity with prisoners.

The doctor stands alone at the end of the long cell block, with a dead gaze he pulls a cigar up to his lips and takes a puff.

As I've said before.

He exhales and fills the air with his pollutant like the smog over Beijing.

I have fought relentlessly.

He begins to walk.

I have faced countless foes that have staked their own ground and claimed their riches and fame.

He passes the first cell, inside it a man paces back and forth. When he notices the doctor passing he lashes out like a rabid dog, snarling and reaching through the bars after him. It's a familiar face to the doc, his very first patient, long before Doctor Louis D'Ville was a household name. None other than Luke Gunnar. Doc snickers and continues to walk past.

Others that haven't.

The next few cells contain a few more randoms. Tony Santos, Kristen Silver, Chris Fame...

When I first opened my doors, friends, my job was simple. No one took the doctor seriously. No one accepted the fact that I was actually here to help them. They all laughed, carried on, and went as far as to point fun at the good doctor. Of course they would. As nonthreatening as I appear, why wouldn't they? An old man such as myself has NO business stepping into the squared circle and fighting for respect, recognition, and gold which we wear upon our waists.

A few more steps and Doc is past those few names of old. He passes a few more and sees familiar faces like the "Aerial Knight" Jonathon Heartsford, Maverick, and Mason Prince.

Even the lightest steps leave a couple footprints, my friends. I've not forgotten where I came from. Even I had to blossom into the undeniably unstoppable wrecking ball that I am today.

He then turns the corner and reaches a new hallway filled with cells. He walked with his eyes straight forward, but stopped in front of the first cell he came to. He looked off to the side into it, seeing the red costumed man staring through the bars at him. If his face was visible, it would surely be covered with the ugliest British scowl you could imagine.

Some made their disdain for my presence here perfectly clear.

Gator stands behind the bars, gripping one with one hand and flipping the good doctor off with the other. Doc smiles and continues to the next one. The ones in this hallway were a bit more separated than the ones in the last.

Some fought harder than others.

He passes another which contained the entire Havok stable, Ronnie Cage, David Stone, and Brandon Moore, all cooped up together behind the same set of bars... Staring like dogs in a kennel as a potential friend ignored them as they strolled by. Michael McBride is the same was as Doc passes him next.

Every single person that has come to see the good doctor left my graces with a new sight of reality. Regardless of when I first started out or yesterday, I've always stood by my word and I've never changed my ways.

In the next cell, Thaddeus Duke stands silently, noble-like, as he should staring deeply into the doc as he passed. The next one, Chris Chaos struggled and pulled at the bars like an animal much like Luke Gunnar did at the beginning.

Some of you still insist that I'm not what I claim to be. Some of you claim that there's still a speckle of hope left in the jar that you could possibly lean on when I come back around.

Doc spits at Chris Chaos who continues reacting like a caged beast. He passes a few more, where the likes of Peter Gilmour, Frodo Smackins, Pest, and a few other former patients of the doctor now reside. The end of the cell block approaches and Doc's steps become shorter and shorter.

It's time to wake up those that still haven't realized that fact that Doctor Louis D'Ville IS the XWF. It's time to slap some sense into the fools that refuse to accept that they will never be the greatest to ever grace this UNIVERSE. Even without a crown, I am still a KING™ in this place, you see, because when you become one... You don't stop being one until your dead. I am alive and well, my friends.

He passes and stop at another and the King Slayer steps forward from the shadows. He gives the doc his own dead look in his eyes before turning his back and heading back into the shadows.

Sticks and stones, my friends. Sticks and stones. You all have words, you all have your threats, but they have never, ever pulled through for you. The good doctor has always stuck to his word though. Whether there were King Slayers, Loverboys, princes, queens, bitches, gods.... I've always stuck to my word and I've always walked away with the grin on my face eventually.

Doc finds himself standing near the end and approaches the last closed cell. Vinnie Lane stands there now, frizzy hair, tight leather pants and all... He leans out from the inside casually as if waiting for his release, which was never going to happen. Doc doesn't bother looking at Vinnie on his way by and continues to the very end of the hallway where one last cell remained. It was empty and the door was open.

Guess who we're missing?

Doc snuffs out his cigar on the wall and tosses the remains into the cell.

High Stakes is just around the corner, my friends. Allow me to put your minds to rest in the suspense of this upcoming event. The entire roster is going to get a shot at greatness that evening, where it's every man for the themselves until the very end. What awaits? Familiar territory for the good doctor and something I've sought to regain since my leave from this fine federation. After I kill the buzzing annoyance that's been pestering me since his arrival, I will do what needs to be done to be the last man standing in the ring I'm assigned to. As for the gentleman across the way from me? Best of luck, my friend. I can beat Trax twice in one night. I can beat Robbie Bourbon. I can beat any member of AX3 and the rest are just filler if you ask me. There isn't a more deserving individual in this place than the doctor and YOU all just are late to admitting it.

I have fought relentlessly.

I have carried this company from the pits of nothing and praised it and raised it until it was one of the brightest shining stars in the sky above. I have the capabilities of doing so, so much more. And I most certainly will. This pay-per-view will mark not the beginning of a new era, but the ressurection of an old one. The black cloud is sailing in and the darkness is settling in over all of you. That gut feeling you have right now? That's your nerves scraping and crawling inside of you, forcing you into contemplating whether or not it's even worth the attempt because you KNOW you're going to fail. It's fear of not just getting hurt but never being able to return or show your ugly faces again because of the shame you've brought onto yourself. I am the reaper that's going to break the records, the seams which hold this ridiculous reality that's going on around here now. Trax was right, maybe he and I deserved the title match more than the folks involved now. No matter. I'm willing to earn my place and VERY willing to shove my boot down the throat of a prince once more if I have to. I've kicked around plenty of bums in my day too and Chris Chaos isn't even worth mentioning anymore. I'm going into High Stakes as surely a favorite for this whole thing, and I will not disappoint. The odds are in my favor and I'm taking home all the winnings folks.

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[Image: XyTjvsM.png]


[Image: Kd641BT.png]




CONTINUED FROM "Ignorance is Bliss"

Mastermind gains his footing and stumbles towards the front of the helicopter. Doc charges towards him and grabs a hold of him as he dives out. The chopper was just soaring past the cliff side when the dove out and managed to land in a large group of bushes which managed to somewhat break their short, yet hard fall. The aircraft nose dived towards the water but clipped the side of the cliff causing it to spin and crash into it. Flaming pieces of it fell into the sea after it exploded in an instant.

Doc and the Master of Minds rolled out of the bush together and lied there to catch their breath for a moment. Mastermind is seriously injured, a possible broken arm, leg, or even back. The doctor looks over to his pursuer with a grin.

Long time no see?

Mastermind huffs and puffs, doing everything to possibly shake off the pain from the fall.

I don't know what you're trying to do, but I told you, I will have no part of it.

Doc laughs.

And you won't! You're the one involving yourself.

You've manipulated and abused my cherished items once before. Your lies and deception hold true through the words of everyone that's spoken ill of you before.

Oh, you're breaking my heart.

Doc says sarcastically.

This ends here doctor. I will not submit. I will not give up until I've stopped you.

Doc rises up, stiff as a board, like a vampire from it's coffin. He shoots down a look to Mastermind who meets the doctor's gaze with wide eyes.

You fool.

Doc smiles and chuckles to himself.

What makes you think you have what it takes to stop me? If you've failed to see, my recruitment of the Master of Minds all that time ago did NOT revolve around your skill nor abilities. Hence the mirror. Hence the mansion. Hence the---

Doc feels around in his pockets for the watch. It's not there. He feels around several times more, over and over again. He notices Mastermind sneak out a chuckle of his own and sees the pocket watch gripped tightly within his fist. It seems to be his only working limb though and, even so, he barely has the strength to maintain his grip on it.

You won't win.

Mastermind manages to gasp out. The doctor laughs and approaches his downed foe. He reaches down and grabs a hold of the Throat of Mastermind and lifts him straight up into the air. Mastermind lets go of the watch as he reaches up to try and break Doc's grasp and it falls to the ground.

Oh, my friend.

Doc begins walking towards the edge of the cliff.

But I already have.

He reaches the edge and holds the Master of Minds over it.

I've squashed much bigger bugs than you, you pathetic little fly. You made a mistake getting involved in my business. You could have easily sat back and just handed over what I desired, but I knew you were far to noble for that, am I right?

Mastermind continues to dangle and struggle at the grip of the doctor. He swings his arm, attempting to hit the doc and break the hold. He barely scathes him though, as Doc's arm has seemed to have grown a few feet longer that what it should be.

Now, you've managed to sacrifice everything for nothing.

He squeezes his grip on Mastermind's throat with a sinister look in his one good eye.

Hey Doc!

Doc's head whips around to see Trevor standing in the middle of the road holding the pocket watch. The sinister look leads to a more confused one.

What?!

Trevor smiles and reaches for the knob on the top of the watch.

Fuck you.

Doc's eyes light up and he throws Mastermind back to the ground. He begins to approach Trevor and every stomp seemed to vibrate the ground. Trevor starts winding the watch backwards what seemed like a thousand times.

NOOOO!!!!!!!!!

The world around them becomes even more flaky and wavy than before. Mastermind manages to look up and see what is happening. He closes his eyes and manages to form a smile and a sigh of relief, even without knowing his fate after Trevor's actions.

Stop you fool!

Doc's image begins to fade back and forth from himself to static. He staggers backwards as Trevor disappears into thin air and the watch drops to the ground. He turns to face Mastermind, who is also flashing back and forth from static then eventually vanishes.

Fawwk.

Several chains one by one burst out of the pavement and wrap around Doc's arms and neck. They pull him down but he fights back, breaking a couple in the process, but more fly up and tangle around him and pull him to the ground. He continues to fight, but more and more and more wrap around him and eventually pull him down through the ground.


Trevor bounces up from his couch like he was hit with a defibrillator. He falls from it onto the floor, but shoots right backup to his feet. He looks around and realizes he's in his old apartment before his first encounter with the good doctor. It's trashed with liquor bottles and the table by the couch is covered with empty stamp bags and remnants of heroin, among other things. Beside them is his police badge, which looks like he was using to cut some of the other drugs up. He picks it up from the table and looks upon it in admiration. He then does his best to clean it off with his shirt and shoves it into his pocket.

He stands in awe for a moment, feels the side of his head and his abdomen, and rushes into the kitchen a few feet away. He goes straight for the garbage can and pulls the bag from it then rushes back into the living room throwing the drugs, needles, bottles of liquor, full or not, all into the garbage bag. He rushes out the door with it and nearly falls down every step on his way down the three floors to the ground level. When he reaches the bottom, he goes out the double doors at the front of the building and out across the street to the small Thai restaurant and throws the bag into the dumpster and slams it shut. He slams his back against it and slides down to the ground and nearly sobs to himself.... Swearing that if it's a real second chance, he would not fuck it up at any cost.


Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The old brick walls of this prison have never kept the water out like it should have. Every time it rains, he ceiling, the walls, even the floor leaks with water from the outside. It's a dark, damp, lonely hell inside of this place, even filled to it's capacity with prisoners.

The doctor stands alone at the end of the long cell block, with a dead gaze he pulls a cigar up to his lips and takes a puff.

As I've said before.

He exhales and fills the air with his pollutant like the smog over Beijing.

I have fought relentlessly.

He begins to walk.

I have faced countless foes that have staked their own ground and claimed their riches and fame.

He passes the first cell, inside it a man paces back and forth. When he notices the doctor passing he lashes out like a rabid dog, snarling and reaching through the bars after him. It's a familiar face to the doc, his very first patient, long before Doctor Louis D'Ville was a household name. None other than Luke Gunnar. Doc snickers and continues to walk past.

Others that haven't.

The next few cells contain a few more randoms. Tony Santos, Kristen Silver, Chris Fame...

When I first opened my doors, friends, my job was simple. No one took the doctor seriously. No one accepted the fact that I was actually here to help them. They all laughed, carried on, and went as far as to point fun at the good doctor. Of course they would. As nonthreatening as I appear, why wouldn't they? An old man such as myself has NO business stepping into the squared circle and fighting for respect, recognition, and gold which we wear upon our waists.

A few more steps and Doc is past those few names of old. He passes a few more and sees familiar faces like the "Aerial Knight" Jonathon Heartsford, Maverick, and Mason Prince.

Even the lightest steps leave a couple footprints, my friends. I've not forgotten where I came from. Even I had to blossom into the undeniably unstoppable wrecking ball that I am today.

He then turns the corner and reaches a new hallway filled with cells. He walked with his eyes straight forward, but stopped in front of the first cell he came to. He looked off to the side into it, seeing the red costumed man staring through the bars at him. If his face was visible, it would surely be covered with the ugliest British scowl you could imagine.

Some made their disdain for my presence here perfectly clear.

Gator stands behind the bars, gripping one with one hand and flipping the good doctor off with the other. Doc smiles and continues to the next one. The ones in this hallway were a bit more separated than the ones in the last.

Some fought harder than others.

He passes another which contained the entire Havok stable, Ronnie Cage, David Stone, and Brandon Moore, all cooped up together behind the same set of bars... Staring like dogs in a kennel as a potential friend ignored them as they strolled by. Michael McBride is the same was as Doc passes him next.

Every single person that has come to see the good doctor left my graces with a new sight of reality. Regardless of when I first started out or yesterday, I've always stood by my word and I've never changed my ways.

In the next cell, Thaddeus Duke stands silently, noble-like, as he should staring deeply into the doc as he passed. The next one, Chris Chaos struggled and pulled at the bars like an animal much like Luke Gunnar did at the beginning.

Some of you still insist that I'm not what I claim to be. Some of you claim that there's still a speckle of hope left in the jar that you could possibly lean on when I come back around.

Doc spits at Chris Chaos who continues reacting like a caged beast. He passes a few more, where the likes of Peter Gilmour, Frodo Smackins, Pest, and a few other former patients of the doctor now reside. The end of the cell block approaches and Doc's steps become shorter and shorter.

It's time to wake up those that still haven't realized that fact that Doctor Louis D'Ville IS the XWF. It's time to slap some sense into the fools that refuse to accept that they will never be the greatest to ever grace this UNIVERSE. Even without a crown, I am still a KING™ in this place, you see, because when you become one... You don't stop being one until your dead. I am alive and well, my friends.

He passes and stop at another and the King Slayer steps forward from the shadows. He gives the doc his own dead look in his eyes before turning his back and heading back into the shadows.

Sticks and stones, my friends. Sticks and stones. You all have words, you all have your threats, but they have never, ever pulled through for you. The good doctor has always stuck to his word though. Whether there were King Slayers, Loverboys, princes, queens, bitches, gods.... I've always stuck to my word and I've always walked away with the grin on my face eventually.

Doc finds himself standing near the end and approaches the last closed cell. Vinnie Lane stands there now, frizzy hair, tight leather pants and all... He leans out from the inside casually as if waiting for his release, which was never going to happen. Doc doesn't bother looking at Vinnie on his way by and continues to the very end of the hallway where one last cell remained. It was empty and the door was open.

Guess who we're missing?

Doc snuffs out his cigar on the wall and tosses the remains into the cell.

High Stakes is just around the corner, my friends. Allow me to put your minds to rest in the suspense of this upcoming event. The entire roster is going to get a shot at greatness that evening, where it's every man for the themselves until the very end. What awaits? Familiar territory for the good doctor and something I've sought to regain since my leave from this fine federation. After I kill the buzzing annoyance that's been pestering me since his arrival, I will do what needs to be done to be the last man standing in the ring I'm assigned to. As for the gentleman across the way from me? Best of luck, my friend. I can beat Trax twice in one night. I can beat Robbie Bourbon. I can beat any member of AX3 and the rest are just filler if you ask me. There isn't a more deserving individual in this place than the doctor and YOU all just are late to admitting it.

I have fought relentlessly.

I have carried this company from the pits of nothing and praised it and raised it until it was one of the brightest shining stars in the sky above. I have the capabilities of doing so, so much more. And I most certainly will. This pay-per-view will mark not the beginning of a new era, but the ressurection of an old one. The black cloud is sailing in and the darkness is settling in over all of you. That gut feeling you have right now? That's your nerves scraping and crawling inside of you, forcing you into contemplating whether or not it's even worth the attempt because you KNOW you're going to fail. It's fear of not just getting hurt but never being able to return or show your ugly faces again because of the shame you've brought onto yourself. I am the reaper that's going to break the records, the seams which hold this ridiculous reality that's going on around here now. Trax was right, maybe he and I deserved the title match more than the folks involved now. No matter. I'm willing to earn my place and VERY willing to shove my boot down the throat of a prince once more if I have to. I've kicked around plenty of bums in my day too and Chris Chaos isn't even worth mentioning anymore. I'm going into High Stakes as surely a favorite for this whole thing, and I will not disappoint. The odds are in my favor and I'm taking home all the winnings folks.

]]> <![CDATA[Kiss Chris Goodbye]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28134 Sun, 11 Jun 2017 23:59:31 -0700 JimCaedus]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28134 "Kiss Chris Goodbye"







-The Four Kings Colosseum-

-Sunday June 11 2017, Las Vegas, Nevada-


As I've proven oft fond of doing during the zero hour for an impending battle, I stand in the center of the ring in which not too long from now I'll be tested, challenged and taken to the limits by competitors who face being taught the hard lesson that Jim Caedus doesn't quit, doesn't flinch...and is every bit as devastating as advertised.

I stare into the lens...

"Chris Chaos...one last limp, dizzy dipshit swing from you deserves an uppercut from Caedus.

You compared your ranking to my own as if I'm at all responsible for the opponents I'm booked against and no one knows that I've been battling one bitch of a hectic schedule. You act as if those rankings measure what a man or woman is capable of at the time. Were that the case, you'd have been delivering a #4 worthy warring of words, would you not? But you haven't been, you've done nothin' but proven a big enough dumbfuck will keep stickin' his chin out for the next punch while he gets knocked around non-stop...and while that may get the people's pity, at least those who don't already know what a pretentious jackass you are, it sure as FUCK doesn't get the people's respect. I despise you, Chaos. You USED to be a top notch name who alienated everyone at every opportunity backstage. Now, you're just a joke, your own punkass punchline we've all been laughin' at since I hit you harder than anyone ever has before.

By the way...who the fuck are you tryin' to convince of your half-cocked horseassery? You've been sounding like you've been pleading a case to a higher power. Let's hope that hypothetical higher power isn't Boss Lane...he already showed you just how much he cared for YOUR position as the Universal Champion. Did that not sink in? Of course not...while you accuse me, as always projecting your own failures and flaws on others like a woman would, pansy pissant prick, of never learning, you continue to prove how hardcore you lack the ability to comprehend and accept all that you experience. Like opening your mouth at all after I sealed it shut with a shot o' that salty man juice you so deftly described in play by play style taking, swallowing, digesting and shitting out, .

Your claiming I stole my Uni Title from a beaten man was a load o' lies. I stole it from Gabe Reno after he refused to try against Steve Davids and got 'is ass kicked and in light of his tryin' to fool me into not cashin' in on 'im. Nice try, fucking idiot.

You said, "When I had the belt I wasn't a hard guy to find. I took on anyone and everyone."

Yeah, everyone accept THIS guy when he punked your ass during Paulie's sermon on the Lottery Tourney. You actively take on anyone and everyone you think you can beat, bitch. That fact has already been vindicated through my outing of you as a coward in context with Caedus. You wanna know who DOES take on "anyone and everyone"? Jim. Fucking. Caedus. Even if the challenger makes me second guess myself, I accept. Ask Boss Lane how I reacted to Bobby Blackcoat, whom I know to be talented enough to take me to my limits, challenging me. Nervous. Uncertain. And still...I took him on in the Federweight Scramble and would've done so in the ring as well had that ever been booked. Who stood toe to toe with Nate Higgers, John Blaq, The KINGS? Me. Where the fuck were you, tough guy? You've been hidin' from The Kings since they arrived. You don't get into it, Chris, you cower. Even as an Ax3 member while Graves, Main and I answered challenges from not only The Kings but Drake and his Revival as well, setting up the Trip Tag match you took part in, you were absent. You know why? You're fulla dogshit, denial and delusions. You're more than welcome to stick around though...there won't ever be an end to snot-nosed newcomers just asking for a tough piece o' shit like you to bully them. As for matches and opponents, I don't ask for anything, I accept them. I face them. And a helluva lot more often than not...I succeed.

What you "brought as the Universal Champion" was low ratings, waning interest and criticism from outside parties. You were a low point for the XWF, deal with it.

You farted out: "You could call me a, "man of the people", could you not? And here is the funny thing......I hate the people. And they hate me. But it is a relationship that works because we both have an understanding that through our hate, we need each other."

No one calls you man of the people, we call you asshole. We call you douche. We call you purveyor of high school level lies and unbelievable. Everyone hates you Chris but what we need isn't you, unless it's you hangin' from a rope in a hotel room, stiff as your dick when recounting swallowing nut. Please...give back to the people. Give 'em what they want after taking so much.

"Jimmy thought he was cute with a little montage aimed directly and solely at me."

Uh...dumbass...a "montage"? You, the man who lectured Gabe Reno on what alliteration is, don't know what a montage is? Me directly quoting you and responding does not a montage make. It makes a well constructed debate with the theme that you actually likened anything at all to taking a cumshot in the mouth like the queer you claim others to be without credibility. That aside, me targeting an opponent specifically also doesn't construe "panicking", it exhibits my need to counter your cheap chatter when I could, without the benefit of ammo accrued from another Duke promo to include him in it. Chris if all you can do is call a dog a cat, say the sky is red when it's blue, you'll find it unacceptable when I continue poundin' away at your skull, Katabasis your ass and pin you for 3 while you scream, "I'm winning, I'm winning!". Jesus, your warped views make me nauseous, fuckin' .

FYI smart guy, I toned down the homo violent threats only AFTER you solidified your own status as a who happily finishes dick in his mouth and swallows. What reason do I have to continue with them? They worked. You lost to my mental warfare, it got you to admit what you, had you been in your right mind, would have never said aloud. You still tryin' to push the gay shit now just shows how truly obsessed with the subject you really are even after humiliating yourself while being too "panicked" to realize you were sayin' what you were sayin'. Kill yourself Chris...there's no comin' back from that. Ever. And I'll never let the people forget you said it. Your career here, any VIABLE career no one would poke fun at, is over.

"Jim Caedus has such backwards views. He doesn't care that people around them are trying their hardest, even in tough situations."

There you go again, accusing others of what you yourself are guilty of. It pisses me off that to counter both you and Duke I'm forced to repeat myself over and over in light of two fake fucks refusing to take the hint and roll with what they've been hit with. Oh, and Chris, I don't care that people around "THEM" are trying their hardest? What am I, fuckin' Legion over here? Yeah I know, it's a simple semantic slip up but fuck it...it goes to show just how "panicky" you are as you struggle to sound logical against me.

"He demands perfection.......what I don't respect is that he doesn't take the time to know what perfection is."

No, I don't demand perfection, that's unrealistic. I'm also far from perfect, why would I expect any less from my opponents? What I demand is honor. Honesty. Responsibility. Three qualities you lack as you lie, twist and refuse to own up.

"He tries to justify himself as being a baddddd motherfucker because he participated in a few coordinated attacks here and there. He thinks that because he is aggressive, arrogant, and an asshole that he is full on AX3."

No, I don't ever reference what I've done FOR Ax3 as me being a bad motherfucker. In fact, I've never referred to myself as a bad motherfucker. More lies. More putting of words in mouths because you have such a severe oral fixation centering on swallowing. It just sucks the one thing you never seem to swallow is that bitter pill of truth.

"He isn't AX3......he is a nobody."

Wrong again. I'm the Universal Champion. Got it in less time than you did. Got the TV Title you were unable to. Got 3 back to back OTM honors. Double Champ. So, in essence, I have everything you don't, Chris, making YOU nothing and me the exact opposite. Try again.

"He needed AX3 more than AX3 needed him."

That just doesn't make any sense whatsoever. You're an imbecile.

"He wanted to kick me out of the group because he couldn't control me....."

No, I'm GONNA kick you out because you fucked with the stables plans for the Xtreme Title and a Graves-Waters showdown that's happening anyway. You fail at everything, including trying to sabotage. Go fuck yourself. I'm sorry, I forgot your fetish...go _suck_ yourself and swallow.

"He never once thought that maybe, just maybe, someone out there is BETTER than him."

Wow you're always wrong. Legit. Always. Fucking. Wrong. I'm the first to admit anyone at anytime can defeat me. It's YOU who endlessly prattles on about your supremacy over everyone else.

"Jim Caedus is walking head fist into a Tornado and is too stupid to take cover. So I am going to blow his roof off and tear his house down."

What a surprise you intend on "blowing" something. Go swallow some semen and slap yourself, stupid, the only thing you'll be tearing down is your own dreams of defeating me. At one point in time you could've done it. Now? In this match? Not a chance. This isn't your time and you aren't the man.

"The Bearded Liar Said:Nothing you've said to ME specifically bothers me.


That is why Jimmy felt the need to say it right?"

Hmmm...no, I said it in direct response to you claiming your words have held any merit, any barb, any power whatsoever, as you deny deny deny in desperation.

It's over Chris. It's done. There's no need for any further discussion. I'll see you for your defeat at High Stakes II."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX]]> "Kiss Chris Goodbye"







-The Four Kings Colosseum-

-Sunday June 11 2017, Las Vegas, Nevada-


As I've proven oft fond of doing during the zero hour for an impending battle, I stand in the center of the ring in which not too long from now I'll be tested, challenged and taken to the limits by competitors who face being taught the hard lesson that Jim Caedus doesn't quit, doesn't flinch...and is every bit as devastating as advertised.

I stare into the lens...

"Chris Chaos...one last limp, dizzy dipshit swing from you deserves an uppercut from Caedus.

You compared your ranking to my own as if I'm at all responsible for the opponents I'm booked against and no one knows that I've been battling one bitch of a hectic schedule. You act as if those rankings measure what a man or woman is capable of at the time. Were that the case, you'd have been delivering a #4 worthy warring of words, would you not? But you haven't been, you've done nothin' but proven a big enough dumbfuck will keep stickin' his chin out for the next punch while he gets knocked around non-stop...and while that may get the people's pity, at least those who don't already know what a pretentious jackass you are, it sure as FUCK doesn't get the people's respect. I despise you, Chaos. You USED to be a top notch name who alienated everyone at every opportunity backstage. Now, you're just a joke, your own punkass punchline we've all been laughin' at since I hit you harder than anyone ever has before.

By the way...who the fuck are you tryin' to convince of your half-cocked horseassery? You've been sounding like you've been pleading a case to a higher power. Let's hope that hypothetical higher power isn't Boss Lane...he already showed you just how much he cared for YOUR position as the Universal Champion. Did that not sink in? Of course not...while you accuse me, as always projecting your own failures and flaws on others like a woman would, pansy pissant prick, of never learning, you continue to prove how hardcore you lack the ability to comprehend and accept all that you experience. Like opening your mouth at all after I sealed it shut with a shot o' that salty man juice you so deftly described in play by play style taking, swallowing, digesting and shitting out, .

Your claiming I stole my Uni Title from a beaten man was a load o' lies. I stole it from Gabe Reno after he refused to try against Steve Davids and got 'is ass kicked and in light of his tryin' to fool me into not cashin' in on 'im. Nice try, fucking idiot.

You said, "When I had the belt I wasn't a hard guy to find. I took on anyone and everyone."

Yeah, everyone accept THIS guy when he punked your ass during Paulie's sermon on the Lottery Tourney. You actively take on anyone and everyone you think you can beat, bitch. That fact has already been vindicated through my outing of you as a coward in context with Caedus. You wanna know who DOES take on "anyone and everyone"? Jim. Fucking. Caedus. Even if the challenger makes me second guess myself, I accept. Ask Boss Lane how I reacted to Bobby Blackcoat, whom I know to be talented enough to take me to my limits, challenging me. Nervous. Uncertain. And still...I took him on in the Federweight Scramble and would've done so in the ring as well had that ever been booked. Who stood toe to toe with Nate Higgers, John Blaq, The KINGS? Me. Where the fuck were you, tough guy? You've been hidin' from The Kings since they arrived. You don't get into it, Chris, you cower. Even as an Ax3 member while Graves, Main and I answered challenges from not only The Kings but Drake and his Revival as well, setting up the Trip Tag match you took part in, you were absent. You know why? You're fulla dogshit, denial and delusions. You're more than welcome to stick around though...there won't ever be an end to snot-nosed newcomers just asking for a tough piece o' shit like you to bully them. As for matches and opponents, I don't ask for anything, I accept them. I face them. And a helluva lot more often than not...I succeed.

What you "brought as the Universal Champion" was low ratings, waning interest and criticism from outside parties. You were a low point for the XWF, deal with it.

You farted out: "You could call me a, "man of the people", could you not? And here is the funny thing......I hate the people. And they hate me. But it is a relationship that works because we both have an understanding that through our hate, we need each other."

No one calls you man of the people, we call you asshole. We call you douche. We call you purveyor of high school level lies and unbelievable. Everyone hates you Chris but what we need isn't you, unless it's you hangin' from a rope in a hotel room, stiff as your dick when recounting swallowing nut. Please...give back to the people. Give 'em what they want after taking so much.

"Jimmy thought he was cute with a little montage aimed directly and solely at me."

Uh...dumbass...a "montage"? You, the man who lectured Gabe Reno on what alliteration is, don't know what a montage is? Me directly quoting you and responding does not a montage make. It makes a well constructed debate with the theme that you actually likened anything at all to taking a cumshot in the mouth like the queer you claim others to be without credibility. That aside, me targeting an opponent specifically also doesn't construe "panicking", it exhibits my need to counter your cheap chatter when I could, without the benefit of ammo accrued from another Duke promo to include him in it. Chris if all you can do is call a dog a cat, say the sky is red when it's blue, you'll find it unacceptable when I continue poundin' away at your skull, Katabasis your ass and pin you for 3 while you scream, "I'm winning, I'm winning!". Jesus, your warped views make me nauseous, fuckin' .

FYI smart guy, I toned down the homo violent threats only AFTER you solidified your own status as a who happily finishes dick in his mouth and swallows. What reason do I have to continue with them? They worked. You lost to my mental warfare, it got you to admit what you, had you been in your right mind, would have never said aloud. You still tryin' to push the gay shit now just shows how truly obsessed with the subject you really are even after humiliating yourself while being too "panicked" to realize you were sayin' what you were sayin'. Kill yourself Chris...there's no comin' back from that. Ever. And I'll never let the people forget you said it. Your career here, any VIABLE career no one would poke fun at, is over.

"Jim Caedus has such backwards views. He doesn't care that people around them are trying their hardest, even in tough situations."

There you go again, accusing others of what you yourself are guilty of. It pisses me off that to counter both you and Duke I'm forced to repeat myself over and over in light of two fake fucks refusing to take the hint and roll with what they've been hit with. Oh, and Chris, I don't care that people around "THEM" are trying their hardest? What am I, fuckin' Legion over here? Yeah I know, it's a simple semantic slip up but fuck it...it goes to show just how "panicky" you are as you struggle to sound logical against me.

"He demands perfection.......what I don't respect is that he doesn't take the time to know what perfection is."

No, I don't demand perfection, that's unrealistic. I'm also far from perfect, why would I expect any less from my opponents? What I demand is honor. Honesty. Responsibility. Three qualities you lack as you lie, twist and refuse to own up.

"He tries to justify himself as being a baddddd motherfucker because he participated in a few coordinated attacks here and there. He thinks that because he is aggressive, arrogant, and an asshole that he is full on AX3."

No, I don't ever reference what I've done FOR Ax3 as me being a bad motherfucker. In fact, I've never referred to myself as a bad motherfucker. More lies. More putting of words in mouths because you have such a severe oral fixation centering on swallowing. It just sucks the one thing you never seem to swallow is that bitter pill of truth.

"He isn't AX3......he is a nobody."

Wrong again. I'm the Universal Champion. Got it in less time than you did. Got the TV Title you were unable to. Got 3 back to back OTM honors. Double Champ. So, in essence, I have everything you don't, Chris, making YOU nothing and me the exact opposite. Try again.

"He needed AX3 more than AX3 needed him."

That just doesn't make any sense whatsoever. You're an imbecile.

"He wanted to kick me out of the group because he couldn't control me....."

No, I'm GONNA kick you out because you fucked with the stables plans for the Xtreme Title and a Graves-Waters showdown that's happening anyway. You fail at everything, including trying to sabotage. Go fuck yourself. I'm sorry, I forgot your fetish...go _suck_ yourself and swallow.

"He never once thought that maybe, just maybe, someone out there is BETTER than him."

Wow you're always wrong. Legit. Always. Fucking. Wrong. I'm the first to admit anyone at anytime can defeat me. It's YOU who endlessly prattles on about your supremacy over everyone else.

"Jim Caedus is walking head fist into a Tornado and is too stupid to take cover. So I am going to blow his roof off and tear his house down."

What a surprise you intend on "blowing" something. Go swallow some semen and slap yourself, stupid, the only thing you'll be tearing down is your own dreams of defeating me. At one point in time you could've done it. Now? In this match? Not a chance. This isn't your time and you aren't the man.

"The Bearded Liar Said:Nothing you've said to ME specifically bothers me.


That is why Jimmy felt the need to say it right?"

Hmmm...no, I said it in direct response to you claiming your words have held any merit, any barb, any power whatsoever, as you deny deny deny in desperation.

It's over Chris. It's done. There's no need for any further discussion. I'll see you for your defeat at High Stakes II."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX]]> <![CDATA[What Was I Thinking]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28133 Sun, 11 Jun 2017 23:59:11 -0700 Chasm]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28133 The scene opens to the interior of a small hotel room, the camera pans the room and we see that I’m still sleeping in bed, just then the alarm clock starts to go off causing me to stir, and I reach out and slam my hand down on it to turn it off. I slowly rise out of the bed and sit gently on the corner. I begin to rub both of my knees and you can tell that I am in a fair bit of pain from all the years of my extreme style of wrestling finally catching up with me.

Fuck……..

I quickly grab a pill bottle off of the dresser beside me, you are unable to read the label of what the pills might be but know that most likely they are some form of pain medication. I pop out two pills from the bottle and quickly swallow them, I sit there a few seconds hoping that they kick in quickly as my body is aching so badly that I can barely move but I know even with these pill that I should expect to be in some amount of pain as nothing is able to make me feel 100% anymore and will most likely need some form of pain meds for the rest of my life. I slowly stand up and you hear my knees let out a loud pop which causes me to wince, I give my knees one more quick rub before grabbing my pack of cigarettes and heading towards the pouch. As I walk I reach down and give my balls a quick scratch and rearrange my morning wood to a more comfortable position. I walk outside and the cool morning air sends a shiver down my spine. I reach into my pack and pull out a smoke and quickly light it as I lean my arms against the railing.

As I stand out on the pouch looking out on the skyline I start to wonder if I might be pushing myself too hard too quickly trying to get my body ready for my match against Barney Green. I know that this match is going to break my already broken body and that if I think my body pains now I just need to wait till after the match.

What was I thinking? What sane person agrees to a Hardcore Death Match at the age of 35 when they have been out of the business for over 5 years and it is not like during those 5 years I really kept myself in tip top shape, I am at least 20lbs over ring weight and really just allowed myself to get lazy, my body is nowhere close to be ready for this but sadly it is too late to back out now and I will just have to walk into High Stakes with my head held high and pray that this old body will be able to hold out.

I reach up and wipe the sleep out of the corner of my left eyes flicking it to the street before. I take a drag of my smoke inhaling deeply and holding the smoke in for a few seconds before exhaling it out. As I continue to look out on the skyline I begin to speak softly.

Barney Green it is already hard to believe that it has been over a month since I returned to the XWF to challenge you to a match and now in just a little least the 48hrs that match is going to happen. I will not lie I was a little worried that you weren’t going to accept my challenge as it took you a few weeks to reply and I was actually thinking off just calling my return off and go back to the boring retirement life since you were really the only reason I wanted to return in the first place. Like I said to Steve the other day I wanted to fight you for a while now but never got the chance to make it happen as I lost track of your career and didn’t even know if your fat ass were even alive still or if you finally had a heart attack from all that greasy food you love to shove down your gullet, so when I saw that you were still wrestling for XWF off and on, I knew that if I ever was going to get the chance to prove that I am and will always be better then you that now would be the time.

I take the final drag of my smoke and flick the butt out onto the road, I watch as it fall down to the street in what seem to be slow motion.

I was a little nervous when you made the stipulation that the only way you would accept the match was if it was an extreme match as I haven’t allowed that side out of me since before I retired, so I didn’t know if I still had what it took to beat a person to the an inch of their lives and not let it bother me. I have been nothing but the loving husband to my lovely new wife and father figure to my kids from my first marriage, I made sure to bury that anger deep down inside of me hoping that it would never find its way out but sadly for you the flood gates are now opens and all this hate and anger that has been building all those years wants out.

I got to release some of it at Savage Saturday Night on those two talentless hacks that TJ placed me against but that wasn’t enough as I wasn’t allow to beat them as badly I had would have liked but with our match being an extreme match that means that the only thing to stop me would be your lifeless body lying in the middle of the ring. I might just do diabetes a favor and kill you myself instead of letting your fat ass lose a foot, it seems like the more humane thing to do.

I laugh to myself of the thought of Barney losing a foot and having to be bound to a wheelchair for the rest of his life, hell I am already shocked that isn’t the case now.

So Barney lets go over a few things you had to say about me. Your main burn was that the only reason I had a career in the XWF was that I rode coattails and that if it wasn’t for allies I have formed over the years that I wouldn’t have won any of my titles. Well that might be true with the tag team but every other title I held in the XWF I won myself, hell most of my reigns were when I was solo and not part of any stables, but enough of that I am down talking to you. You will just have to wait till High Stake just like everyone else to see what horror I plan to cause you.

With that I turn and head back into the hotel room to go shower and start my busy day of training. The scene fades on the screen door sliding close.]]> The scene opens to the interior of a small hotel room, the camera pans the room and we see that I’m still sleeping in bed, just then the alarm clock starts to go off causing me to stir, and I reach out and slam my hand down on it to turn it off. I slowly rise out of the bed and sit gently on the corner. I begin to rub both of my knees and you can tell that I am in a fair bit of pain from all the years of my extreme style of wrestling finally catching up with me.

Fuck……..

I quickly grab a pill bottle off of the dresser beside me, you are unable to read the label of what the pills might be but know that most likely they are some form of pain medication. I pop out two pills from the bottle and quickly swallow them, I sit there a few seconds hoping that they kick in quickly as my body is aching so badly that I can barely move but I know even with these pill that I should expect to be in some amount of pain as nothing is able to make me feel 100% anymore and will most likely need some form of pain meds for the rest of my life. I slowly stand up and you hear my knees let out a loud pop which causes me to wince, I give my knees one more quick rub before grabbing my pack of cigarettes and heading towards the pouch. As I walk I reach down and give my balls a quick scratch and rearrange my morning wood to a more comfortable position. I walk outside and the cool morning air sends a shiver down my spine. I reach into my pack and pull out a smoke and quickly light it as I lean my arms against the railing.

As I stand out on the pouch looking out on the skyline I start to wonder if I might be pushing myself too hard too quickly trying to get my body ready for my match against Barney Green. I know that this match is going to break my already broken body and that if I think my body pains now I just need to wait till after the match.

What was I thinking? What sane person agrees to a Hardcore Death Match at the age of 35 when they have been out of the business for over 5 years and it is not like during those 5 years I really kept myself in tip top shape, I am at least 20lbs over ring weight and really just allowed myself to get lazy, my body is nowhere close to be ready for this but sadly it is too late to back out now and I will just have to walk into High Stakes with my head held high and pray that this old body will be able to hold out.

I reach up and wipe the sleep out of the corner of my left eyes flicking it to the street before. I take a drag of my smoke inhaling deeply and holding the smoke in for a few seconds before exhaling it out. As I continue to look out on the skyline I begin to speak softly.

Barney Green it is already hard to believe that it has been over a month since I returned to the XWF to challenge you to a match and now in just a little least the 48hrs that match is going to happen. I will not lie I was a little worried that you weren’t going to accept my challenge as it took you a few weeks to reply and I was actually thinking off just calling my return off and go back to the boring retirement life since you were really the only reason I wanted to return in the first place. Like I said to Steve the other day I wanted to fight you for a while now but never got the chance to make it happen as I lost track of your career and didn’t even know if your fat ass were even alive still or if you finally had a heart attack from all that greasy food you love to shove down your gullet, so when I saw that you were still wrestling for XWF off and on, I knew that if I ever was going to get the chance to prove that I am and will always be better then you that now would be the time.

I take the final drag of my smoke and flick the butt out onto the road, I watch as it fall down to the street in what seem to be slow motion.

I was a little nervous when you made the stipulation that the only way you would accept the match was if it was an extreme match as I haven’t allowed that side out of me since before I retired, so I didn’t know if I still had what it took to beat a person to the an inch of their lives and not let it bother me. I have been nothing but the loving husband to my lovely new wife and father figure to my kids from my first marriage, I made sure to bury that anger deep down inside of me hoping that it would never find its way out but sadly for you the flood gates are now opens and all this hate and anger that has been building all those years wants out.

I got to release some of it at Savage Saturday Night on those two talentless hacks that TJ placed me against but that wasn’t enough as I wasn’t allow to beat them as badly I had would have liked but with our match being an extreme match that means that the only thing to stop me would be your lifeless body lying in the middle of the ring. I might just do diabetes a favor and kill you myself instead of letting your fat ass lose a foot, it seems like the more humane thing to do.

I laugh to myself of the thought of Barney losing a foot and having to be bound to a wheelchair for the rest of his life, hell I am already shocked that isn’t the case now.

So Barney lets go over a few things you had to say about me. Your main burn was that the only reason I had a career in the XWF was that I rode coattails and that if it wasn’t for allies I have formed over the years that I wouldn’t have won any of my titles. Well that might be true with the tag team but every other title I held in the XWF I won myself, hell most of my reigns were when I was solo and not part of any stables, but enough of that I am down talking to you. You will just have to wait till High Stake just like everyone else to see what horror I plan to cause you.

With that I turn and head back into the hotel room to go shower and start my busy day of training. The scene fades on the screen door sliding close.]]> <![CDATA[how are you]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28131 Sun, 11 Jun 2017 23:57:58 -0700 John Madison]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28131

John Madison types his 20 thousandth word of the day and exits the word document. John needed to blow off the writing fatigue that was setting in with a fine-ass bottle of Johnnie Walker. As John is about to put his lips to the bottle we hears someone knocking at the front door of his mansion that is almost as lavish as Peter Gilmour's. Of course, that doesn't stop him from boozing up before he tips the bottle over on his coffee table before running to the door.

"OW FUCK!"

Along the way, John totally forgot that he spent all night getting stoned and building his new Lego Bat Cave set. He plants his foot directly into the middle of that shit, and gets Harley Quinn's plastic asshole lodged in his heel.

"SON OF A BITCH!"

John pulls out his bear knife and digs out the Lego piece.

"I've had it!

"No one appreciates how good I am around here, just like no on appreciates how great our president is making America again! I'm gonna have to do it. I need my visitor, my little blanket."

John closes his eyes and walks to the edge of his bed. He slowly lowers his chin and opens his eyes as he pulls out a gold key with a crown shape at the bow. He slides the key in a sexual manner into a sock drawer and pulls out a Kevin Bacon sock puppet.

"I need to call him now. Let me concentrate."

He begins to put the sock over his right hand but recalls that the ceremony calls for the left hand! John gets frustrated for a second time in the very early going of this promo, but he regains his composure as he looks down at the sock again. John then takes another look into the sock cabinet. He pulls out a picture of him and Luca Arzegotti when they took coke and went fishing and swimming at the lake together. It got late before they realized how much fun they were having, so John got out his sleeping bag and they drank milk together by a campfire.

"I miss those days. I'm gonna miss Luca too. We always had each other's backs."

John holds the picture up with his sock hand. He pulls out a match, strikes it, and holds it next to the picture of him and Luca.

"It's time to let you go. Thank you for your service."

John sets the corner of the picture on fire and watches it burn.

"Wait... no!"

John has a change of heart and begins to extinguish the flames with his bare hands!

"I'm sorry, Luca! It's ok, I have that picture saved to my kitchen computer anyhow. Alright, let's forget Luca because I only need one person right now."

John rubs his balls three times with the sock puppet.

"Through this sock I call your name. Cadryn The Jester, come to thine aid!"

We expect for Cadryn to make another graceful entrance but instead he gets shots through the window like an American torpedo getting shot into a Russian sub with Hillary inside. Cadryn ends up putt a crater on the front of Maddy's fridge.

"What happened? I thought we settled on the previous entrance where I float to the ground by a parachute..."

"This is urgent, Caderella."

"Ok. What is it?"

"I need you to clean my house. I invited Steve Sayors over and we are going to answer all of the questions that the American people have for me. I'm declaring this week to be MAGAWEEK. No speaking of foreigners, just Americans, for the American people and the American spirit."

"I see. Well, it shouldn't be a problem. I'll get this place straightened up in no time."

"Hey, question..."

"Yeah?"

"Do you do sensual body rubs?"

"I-"

"Just kidding, clean up this shithole. It needs to look professional and patriotic."

"You got it, King Madison."

"EMPEROR God King Madison."

"Yes, Emperor God King Madison."

"Cool, I'm going to leave one more puddle of piss to clean up, and then I'll be in naked in my bed. Come and get me."

"Alright, I'll just give your door a light tap and let you know when it's time."

"Damn Caderella, I need to jerk off. Will you stand there just like that while I do it?"

"I should really start cleaning though. Your place is disgusting."

"Oh right. Sorry, go ahead. Another time. Another time."

[Image: 9ThVztz.jpg]

We have Cadryn impersonating Steve Sayors to interview John Madison. The studded choke collar looks amazing on Cadryn-- I mean, Steve Sayors.

"Hi, I'm Steve Sayors, thank you for having me John. It is an honor to be interviewing the Emperor God King Madison. Your lavish mansion. It's so lavish. I've been inside of many mansions but none of them come close. AH WAIT! Peter."

"Peter's mansion is a remarkable. I've slept over with them so many times and we have so much fun. We listen to his Death Metal for hours, mostly In This Moment videos. Peter then gets his guitar out and he plays it for me and Maria Brink while we just chill on the couch and drink wine. Peter has such remarkable talent in and out of the ring. Have you ever seen him perform his electric guitar solos?"

"I haven't had the privilege to YET. I need to make an appointment. Is that possible? Does Peter have a booking agent that I can contact for this private show?"

"Give me your business card after the interview, Steve Sayors. I'll make sure Peter's agent gets back to you, Steve."

"Ok. So moving on, my EGK, what's been going through your mind after having your story released of your American heroism? Patriotism!"

"It's every bit true. The Kings ™ really are heroes and not much is known about the mission that we were on in Russia but, even though it had some rough patches; in the end it was a successful mission. The Kings ™ is beyond pro wrestling at this point. In fact, let me correct that statement. The Kings ™ was too big for wrestling from the get go. But it's a fun platform for us to use in order bring peace of mind to the American people. We love America, Caderella. Say it!"

"We love America!! By the way, my name is Steve. Dick!"

"John, you've been getting attacked at shows. The toll that it must have on your body. It must bring so much pain that you can't bare to come out and mention how you're feeling?"

"You hit the nail right on the head, Steve. I had a very traumatic experience. It was unfair the way that I was treated on my homecoming. Nobody bothered to roll out the red carpet. And none of my opponents bothered to come shake my hand. That alone makes them all trash. I am the Emperor God King, they should be lining up at my door thanking me for even accepting this match.

"Look, I didn't have to be in this match, Steve. But I wanted to do it for the American people. Because the more that I am showcased, the more that we can make America great. Sadly, I couldn't be showcased much lately because of the attacks by those thugs. I don't even know their names. One is named after a very dark, scavenger type bird. A very criminal sounding name. What was it, Steve?"

"James Raven..."

"Oh God, I don't even want to hear the name. It's repulsive. It's so unAmerican and this is a safe environment for positive American thoughts only.

"Look, this match is important. I don't want to think of the fucking bird right now. I'll deal with that pest in the ring. This promo is for America, it's not for James Raven."

"You've got it, sir. So there's a lot riding on this match, isn't there? You must be nervous. This is seriously the most appropriate name that we've had for an event in quite a while. The stakes and my dick has never been higher."

"The Kings ™ will always have 100% control, Steve. That's why you made the right decision when you aligned with us. A lot is at stake here so I'm gonna go with the tactics that I know best. That means that I look forward to distracting James Raven while a stronger man like John Samuels puts down the weak link Jonathyn Brown for the three count. That is my strategy, Steve. And I don't hide it, never have. It's out there in the open. I am nothing but a distraction. But it's for a greater purpose; to make America Great Again.

"Wow, that was a remarkable speech, John. Really hits home with me and everyone at home."

"Thank you, Caderella. I appreciate the professionalism that you've shown for this interview. It's very rare to find that quality in journalism. But if you don't mind, I'm going to go lay down and take a nap. I'm very tired and I need to make sure I'm well rested for my match."]]>

John Madison types his 20 thousandth word of the day and exits the word document. John needed to blow off the writing fatigue that was setting in with a fine-ass bottle of Johnnie Walker. As John is about to put his lips to the bottle we hears someone knocking at the front door of his mansion that is almost as lavish as Peter Gilmour's. Of course, that doesn't stop him from boozing up before he tips the bottle over on his coffee table before running to the door.

"OW FUCK!"

Along the way, John totally forgot that he spent all night getting stoned and building his new Lego Bat Cave set. He plants his foot directly into the middle of that shit, and gets Harley Quinn's plastic asshole lodged in his heel.

"SON OF A BITCH!"

John pulls out his bear knife and digs out the Lego piece.

"I've had it!

"No one appreciates how good I am around here, just like no on appreciates how great our president is making America again! I'm gonna have to do it. I need my visitor, my little blanket."

John closes his eyes and walks to the edge of his bed. He slowly lowers his chin and opens his eyes as he pulls out a gold key with a crown shape at the bow. He slides the key in a sexual manner into a sock drawer and pulls out a Kevin Bacon sock puppet.

"I need to call him now. Let me concentrate."

He begins to put the sock over his right hand but recalls that the ceremony calls for the left hand! John gets frustrated for a second time in the very early going of this promo, but he regains his composure as he looks down at the sock again. John then takes another look into the sock cabinet. He pulls out a picture of him and Luca Arzegotti when they took coke and went fishing and swimming at the lake together. It got late before they realized how much fun they were having, so John got out his sleeping bag and they drank milk together by a campfire.

"I miss those days. I'm gonna miss Luca too. We always had each other's backs."

John holds the picture up with his sock hand. He pulls out a match, strikes it, and holds it next to the picture of him and Luca.

"It's time to let you go. Thank you for your service."

John sets the corner of the picture on fire and watches it burn.

"Wait... no!"

John has a change of heart and begins to extinguish the flames with his bare hands!

"I'm sorry, Luca! It's ok, I have that picture saved to my kitchen computer anyhow. Alright, let's forget Luca because I only need one person right now."

John rubs his balls three times with the sock puppet.

"Through this sock I call your name. Cadryn The Jester, come to thine aid!"

We expect for Cadryn to make another graceful entrance but instead he gets shots through the window like an American torpedo getting shot into a Russian sub with Hillary inside. Cadryn ends up putt a crater on the front of Maddy's fridge.

"What happened? I thought we settled on the previous entrance where I float to the ground by a parachute..."

"This is urgent, Caderella."

"Ok. What is it?"

"I need you to clean my house. I invited Steve Sayors over and we are going to answer all of the questions that the American people have for me. I'm declaring this week to be MAGAWEEK. No speaking of foreigners, just Americans, for the American people and the American spirit."

"I see. Well, it shouldn't be a problem. I'll get this place straightened up in no time."

"Hey, question..."

"Yeah?"

"Do you do sensual body rubs?"

"I-"

"Just kidding, clean up this shithole. It needs to look professional and patriotic."

"You got it, King Madison."

"EMPEROR God King Madison."

"Yes, Emperor God King Madison."

"Cool, I'm going to leave one more puddle of piss to clean up, and then I'll be in naked in my bed. Come and get me."

"Alright, I'll just give your door a light tap and let you know when it's time."

"Damn Caderella, I need to jerk off. Will you stand there just like that while I do it?"

"I should really start cleaning though. Your place is disgusting."

"Oh right. Sorry, go ahead. Another time. Another time."

[Image: 9ThVztz.jpg]

We have Cadryn impersonating Steve Sayors to interview John Madison. The studded choke collar looks amazing on Cadryn-- I mean, Steve Sayors.

"Hi, I'm Steve Sayors, thank you for having me John. It is an honor to be interviewing the Emperor God King Madison. Your lavish mansion. It's so lavish. I've been inside of many mansions but none of them come close. AH WAIT! Peter."

"Peter's mansion is a remarkable. I've slept over with them so many times and we have so much fun. We listen to his Death Metal for hours, mostly In This Moment videos. Peter then gets his guitar out and he plays it for me and Maria Brink while we just chill on the couch and drink wine. Peter has such remarkable talent in and out of the ring. Have you ever seen him perform his electric guitar solos?"

"I haven't had the privilege to YET. I need to make an appointment. Is that possible? Does Peter have a booking agent that I can contact for this private show?"

"Give me your business card after the interview, Steve Sayors. I'll make sure Peter's agent gets back to you, Steve."

"Ok. So moving on, my EGK, what's been going through your mind after having your story released of your American heroism? Patriotism!"

"It's every bit true. The Kings ™ really are heroes and not much is known about the mission that we were on in Russia but, even though it had some rough patches; in the end it was a successful mission. The Kings ™ is beyond pro wrestling at this point. In fact, let me correct that statement. The Kings ™ was too big for wrestling from the get go. But it's a fun platform for us to use in order bring peace of mind to the American people. We love America, Caderella. Say it!"

"We love America!! By the way, my name is Steve. Dick!"

"John, you've been getting attacked at shows. The toll that it must have on your body. It must bring so much pain that you can't bare to come out and mention how you're feeling?"

"You hit the nail right on the head, Steve. I had a very traumatic experience. It was unfair the way that I was treated on my homecoming. Nobody bothered to roll out the red carpet. And none of my opponents bothered to come shake my hand. That alone makes them all trash. I am the Emperor God King, they should be lining up at my door thanking me for even accepting this match.

"Look, I didn't have to be in this match, Steve. But I wanted to do it for the American people. Because the more that I am showcased, the more that we can make America great. Sadly, I couldn't be showcased much lately because of the attacks by those thugs. I don't even know their names. One is named after a very dark, scavenger type bird. A very criminal sounding name. What was it, Steve?"

"James Raven..."

"Oh God, I don't even want to hear the name. It's repulsive. It's so unAmerican and this is a safe environment for positive American thoughts only.

"Look, this match is important. I don't want to think of the fucking bird right now. I'll deal with that pest in the ring. This promo is for America, it's not for James Raven."

"You've got it, sir. So there's a lot riding on this match, isn't there? You must be nervous. This is seriously the most appropriate name that we've had for an event in quite a while. The stakes and my dick has never been higher."

"The Kings ™ will always have 100% control, Steve. That's why you made the right decision when you aligned with us. A lot is at stake here so I'm gonna go with the tactics that I know best. That means that I look forward to distracting James Raven while a stronger man like John Samuels puts down the weak link Jonathyn Brown for the three count. That is my strategy, Steve. And I don't hide it, never have. It's out there in the open. I am nothing but a distraction. But it's for a greater purpose; to make America Great Again.

"Wow, that was a remarkable speech, John. Really hits home with me and everyone at home."

"Thank you, Caderella. I appreciate the professionalism that you've shown for this interview. It's very rare to find that quality in journalism. But if you don't mind, I'm going to go lay down and take a nap. I'm very tired and I need to make sure I'm well rested for my match."]]> <![CDATA[Big Bad Wolf]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28122 Sun, 11 Jun 2017 23:46:29 -0700 Chris Chaos]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28122
Even in these chains, you can't stop me.
Even in these chains, you can't stop me.
Even in these chains, you can't stop me.
Even in these chains, you can't stop me!


The chain was tied to the tree. The rugged lumberjack and the young boy were chained to it. They were back to back, with only the tree separating. There was a third set of chains attached to the tree, but those had been broken. Each one saw it but they didn't know the other one had. They didn't even know who the other one was.

Once upon a time
There was a nasty, little piggy filled with pride and greed

The young boy had an ego. He thought he was untouchable. He had the world in his palm in his mind and thought everyone was below him. He was trying to carry on his fathers legacy, and he let everyone know how great his father was and how great his plans were. This little piggy was greedy, too. Take, take, take. That is all he wanted to do. He didn't want to work for anything, because he felt like it should all be handed to him. He felt like everything should be spoon fed to him with a gold plated spoon. He couldn't survive out on his own. He had no survival skills, because nobody taught him how to survive outside his own little world---a world he created.

Once upon a time
There was an evil, little piggy typical disease

The rugged lumberjack had a problem, he had a sickness. He liked to fuck men in the ass. He played it off that he enjoyed female genitalia but when he got mad, or drunk, or both, he would often dabble in taboo activities. Hell, if he knew he had a young boy on the other side of the tree, he would probably try to catch him and fuck him. The only problem is, with all of his strength and all of his rage, he could not break the chain. The two fingers touched as the hands were tied behind.......he knew SOMEONE was there.


You see this little pig is slowly becoming my own worst enemy.
You see this evil pig she's a blood, blood, blood sucking part of me

Both of these two had elements that made him whole. Rage, aggression, an ego, an attitude, supreme confidence. Both of the chained men had something that he desperately needed, and would stop at nothing to acquire. Both of these men were going to be victims, whether he wanted them to be or not. There was a greater force at play. The moon was beginning to shine bright through the forest.

He saw them from the woods. His mouth watered. Their necks possessed their DNA. He just needed to change. He needed to be what he was inside. He needed to be what he dreaded the most.

He needed to be what he said he would never be again.

But he couldn't control it.

Everywhere I go, you go along with me (she said)
Anything you get, is all because of me (I said)
Everything I do, you do along with me (she said)
No matter where you run, you cannot hide from me

The moon was beginning to illuminate the woods around him. It was providing a light.

[Image: TVRk2H1.gif]

The woods was quiet, but loud at the same time The only sounds were those of bugs, assorted birds and the occasional frog. The only light was the moon, which was full and bright. The leaves and sticks crunched and rustled, and even the smallest amount of movement would echo like a blow horn through a deep valley.

You stumble around in the semi-light, trying to make the least amount of noise possible. You don't know how you got here, all you know is you want to go home.

There are so many things that can kill you in the woods. Spiders, snakes, charging deer, the occasional bear......

Wolves.

And all this noise you can't help but make, they can come up silent. They can watch you for hours, waiting for the right time to strike. A wolf can disembowel you before you even realize you have him on top of you---but they don't. They eat you slowly. They make you feel it.

You stumble around trying to feel your surroundings. Every little bump, every weird creepy crawly. They make you pull back. Oh, how did you get so lost?

There is a howl in the distance that you can barely make out. The moon is a natural flashlight, but it only seems to illuminate a small portion of the trail in front of you. You hate how that works. It is directly above you but it only seems to light up where it wants to.

[Image: lLfC13U.gif]

Even in these chains, you can't stop me.
Even in these chains, you can't stop me!

He circled his catch. He was chained to the tree earlier, but he found a way to brake the chain. This was a dog eat dog world. The rugged lumberjack was beginning to break his chains. The boy was crying.

Pig, pig!
Would you let me in?

He took a step towards them. Would they accept their fate, or would they try to fight? Would they lay down and let nature run its course.

He hoped they would fight. It made the kill that much more desirable.

Pig, pig!
Would you let me in?
Pig, pig!
I've been everywhere that you've been

Less than an hour before he had been tied to the same tree. He needed to know he could break these chains. He needed to know he could get out and get a step ahead. Had he failed, maybe he would be there to die with them. Maybe another predator would pick him off with him able to do nothing to counter it.

Now I've got nothing to lose and everything to win
Pig, pig!

This was his time. The little pigs were right there and he could salivate thinking of them. Ripping their skin to tattered threads, spilling their blood on the soft soil below. They had something he needed, wanted, craved, and longed for. One of them, the bigger one, had something he felt was his.

Would you let me in?
Pig, pig!
Would you let me in?
Pig, pig!
I'm already under your skin
'Cause I'm the big bad wolf, now let the games begin

Let the games begin.

He stepped through the brush until he was less than 20 yards away.

You see I am the wolf,
And this dirty, little piggy lives inside of me.

Inside he felt like maybe he could be one of them. Inside he felt good, like he didn't want to cause any harm to them. But something was coming over him. Running his hand through his hair, he was beginning to feel like maybe he wasn't one of them after all.

You see every now and then,
I forget which one that I want and which one that I need.

He needed them both. He needed both heads on a stick. He needed both to feel the pain he felt inside. He needed both suffer.

I have come to realize
That both of them have become a necessity

I now have come to realize
That I become which animal I choose to feed

Looking down he saw he still had part of the chain---at the cuff---attached to his wrist. It jingled as he took off, and began to run.

Even with these chains, you can't stop me.
Even with these chains, you can't stop me
Even with these chains, you can't stop me
Even in these chains, you won't break me
Even in these chains, you won't stop me
Even in these chains, you won't break me
Even in these chains, you won't take me
Even in these chains, you won't haunt me

He launched himself.

[Image: VtkiTOU.gif]

As you stumbled to a clearing, you hear a noise. It sounds like human screaming in the distance. It sounds like a growling, ripping, tearing flesh. It sounded like pain.

As you push your tired legs to continue you hear a rustle around you. Your delirious and tired eyes notice red dots surrounding you......

All around you.

All encompasing.

But it is the one you don't see, the one you don't expect, which makes the first move.

It is the one you wrote off as being incapable.....

The one you threw away as a real contender, a real possibility.....

Pain hits your back as the red dots look on. The moon illuminates a face....but it isn't the face you would have expected.

It was all a blur, seconds turned to minutes and minutes felt like years. He didn't kill you quickly. Spiders, snakes, all of those....they kill you over days. Bears make it quick. Deers sometimes get lucky. A wolf knows what he is doing. He systematically disects you and takes his sweet time.

By the time your world is fading a full 60 minutes has passed.....

But you were dead from the opening strike.

Your screams have echoed theirs. You wondered who they were, if they were feeling this too.

But their chains, both internal and external had stopped them. You had a chance to run, had a chance to give up, but you chose to push on.

Now you faced your worst fear and your worst fear won.

The big bad wolf.

[Image: kOXEWue.gif]

Everything about Chris was a wolf.

Such majestic animals.

But so deadly.

The Grey Wolf is an apex predator. It is the largest canine in the wild.

It took a full hour..........

Toying with you. Enjoying itself.

...........you were alive, when it began to eat you.

I'm already under your skin
'Cause I'm the big bad wolf, now let the games begin
'Cause I'm the big bad wolf, now let the games begin!
'Cause I'm the big bad wolf, now let the games begin


'Cause I'm the big bad wolf, now let the games begin

'Cause I'm the big bad wolf, now let the games begin

'Cause I'm the big bad wolf, now let the games begin






















[Image: gYhLaur.png]

[Image: rCLhLGa.png]



He huffed











He puffed.














He blew your house down.






































The Big Bad Wolf.]]>
Even in these chains, you can't stop me.
Even in these chains, you can't stop me.
Even in these chains, you can't stop me.
Even in these chains, you can't stop me!


The chain was tied to the tree. The rugged lumberjack and the young boy were chained to it. They were back to back, with only the tree separating. There was a third set of chains attached to the tree, but those had been broken. Each one saw it but they didn't know the other one had. They didn't even know who the other one was.

Once upon a time
There was a nasty, little piggy filled with pride and greed

The young boy had an ego. He thought he was untouchable. He had the world in his palm in his mind and thought everyone was below him. He was trying to carry on his fathers legacy, and he let everyone know how great his father was and how great his plans were. This little piggy was greedy, too. Take, take, take. That is all he wanted to do. He didn't want to work for anything, because he felt like it should all be handed to him. He felt like everything should be spoon fed to him with a gold plated spoon. He couldn't survive out on his own. He had no survival skills, because nobody taught him how to survive outside his own little world---a world he created.

Once upon a time
There was an evil, little piggy typical disease

The rugged lumberjack had a problem, he had a sickness. He liked to fuck men in the ass. He played it off that he enjoyed female genitalia but when he got mad, or drunk, or both, he would often dabble in taboo activities. Hell, if he knew he had a young boy on the other side of the tree, he would probably try to catch him and fuck him. The only problem is, with all of his strength and all of his rage, he could not break the chain. The two fingers touched as the hands were tied behind.......he knew SOMEONE was there.


You see this little pig is slowly becoming my own worst enemy.
You see this evil pig she's a blood, blood, blood sucking part of me

Both of these two had elements that made him whole. Rage, aggression, an ego, an attitude, supreme confidence. Both of the chained men had something that he desperately needed, and would stop at nothing to acquire. Both of these men were going to be victims, whether he wanted them to be or not. There was a greater force at play. The moon was beginning to shine bright through the forest.

He saw them from the woods. His mouth watered. Their necks possessed their DNA. He just needed to change. He needed to be what he was inside. He needed to be what he dreaded the most.

He needed to be what he said he would never be again.

But he couldn't control it.

Everywhere I go, you go along with me (she said)
Anything you get, is all because of me (I said)
Everything I do, you do along with me (she said)
No matter where you run, you cannot hide from me

The moon was beginning to illuminate the woods around him. It was providing a light.

[Image: TVRk2H1.gif]

The woods was quiet, but loud at the same time The only sounds were those of bugs, assorted birds and the occasional frog. The only light was the moon, which was full and bright. The leaves and sticks crunched and rustled, and even the smallest amount of movement would echo like a blow horn through a deep valley.

You stumble around in the semi-light, trying to make the least amount of noise possible. You don't know how you got here, all you know is you want to go home.

There are so many things that can kill you in the woods. Spiders, snakes, charging deer, the occasional bear......

Wolves.

And all this noise you can't help but make, they can come up silent. They can watch you for hours, waiting for the right time to strike. A wolf can disembowel you before you even realize you have him on top of you---but they don't. They eat you slowly. They make you feel it.

You stumble around trying to feel your surroundings. Every little bump, every weird creepy crawly. They make you pull back. Oh, how did you get so lost?

There is a howl in the distance that you can barely make out. The moon is a natural flashlight, but it only seems to illuminate a small portion of the trail in front of you. You hate how that works. It is directly above you but it only seems to light up where it wants to.

[Image: lLfC13U.gif]

Even in these chains, you can't stop me.
Even in these chains, you can't stop me!

He circled his catch. He was chained to the tree earlier, but he found a way to brake the chain. This was a dog eat dog world. The rugged lumberjack was beginning to break his chains. The boy was crying.

Pig, pig!
Would you let me in?

He took a step towards them. Would they accept their fate, or would they try to fight? Would they lay down and let nature run its course.

He hoped they would fight. It made the kill that much more desirable.

Pig, pig!
Would you let me in?
Pig, pig!
I've been everywhere that you've been

Less than an hour before he had been tied to the same tree. He needed to know he could break these chains. He needed to know he could get out and get a step ahead. Had he failed, maybe he would be there to die with them. Maybe another predator would pick him off with him able to do nothing to counter it.

Now I've got nothing to lose and everything to win
Pig, pig!

This was his time. The little pigs were right there and he could salivate thinking of them. Ripping their skin to tattered threads, spilling their blood on the soft soil below. They had something he needed, wanted, craved, and longed for. One of them, the bigger one, had something he felt was his.

Would you let me in?
Pig, pig!
Would you let me in?
Pig, pig!
I'm already under your skin
'Cause I'm the big bad wolf, now let the games begin

Let the games begin.

He stepped through the brush until he was less than 20 yards away.

You see I am the wolf,
And this dirty, little piggy lives inside of me.

Inside he felt like maybe he could be one of them. Inside he felt good, like he didn't want to cause any harm to them. But something was coming over him. Running his hand through his hair, he was beginning to feel like maybe he wasn't one of them after all.

You see every now and then,
I forget which one that I want and which one that I need.

He needed them both. He needed both heads on a stick. He needed both to feel the pain he felt inside. He needed both suffer.

I have come to realize
That both of them have become a necessity

I now have come to realize
That I become which animal I choose to feed

Looking down he saw he still had part of the chain---at the cuff---attached to his wrist. It jingled as he took off, and began to run.

Even with these chains, you can't stop me.
Even with these chains, you can't stop me
Even with these chains, you can't stop me
Even in these chains, you won't break me
Even in these chains, you won't stop me
Even in these chains, you won't break me
Even in these chains, you won't take me
Even in these chains, you won't haunt me

He launched himself.

[Image: VtkiTOU.gif]

As you stumbled to a clearing, you hear a noise. It sounds like human screaming in the distance. It sounds like a growling, ripping, tearing flesh. It sounded like pain.

As you push your tired legs to continue you hear a rustle around you. Your delirious and tired eyes notice red dots surrounding you......

All around you.

All encompasing.

But it is the one you don't see, the one you don't expect, which makes the first move.

It is the one you wrote off as being incapable.....

The one you threw away as a real contender, a real possibility.....

Pain hits your back as the red dots look on. The moon illuminates a face....but it isn't the face you would have expected.

It was all a blur, seconds turned to minutes and minutes felt like years. He didn't kill you quickly. Spiders, snakes, all of those....they kill you over days. Bears make it quick. Deers sometimes get lucky. A wolf knows what he is doing. He systematically disects you and takes his sweet time.

By the time your world is fading a full 60 minutes has passed.....

But you were dead from the opening strike.

Your screams have echoed theirs. You wondered who they were, if they were feeling this too.

But their chains, both internal and external had stopped them. You had a chance to run, had a chance to give up, but you chose to push on.

Now you faced your worst fear and your worst fear won.

The big bad wolf.

[Image: kOXEWue.gif]

Everything about Chris was a wolf.

Such majestic animals.

But so deadly.

The Grey Wolf is an apex predator. It is the largest canine in the wild.

It took a full hour..........

Toying with you. Enjoying itself.

...........you were alive, when it began to eat you.

I'm already under your skin
'Cause I'm the big bad wolf, now let the games begin
'Cause I'm the big bad wolf, now let the games begin!
'Cause I'm the big bad wolf, now let the games begin


'Cause I'm the big bad wolf, now let the games begin

'Cause I'm the big bad wolf, now let the games begin

'Cause I'm the big bad wolf, now let the games begin






















[Image: gYhLaur.png]

[Image: rCLhLGa.png]



He huffed











He puffed.














He blew your house down.






































The Big Bad Wolf.]]> <![CDATA[Killin' Shit, Just Cause I Can]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28130 Sun, 11 Jun 2017 23:19:45 -0700 Phantom Panzer]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28130


Double P, after spending time with Jemmy, came back to the present space and time, and grinned. After all that reminiscing, it reminded him of that bloodlust. He chuckled, then it turned into a laugh as he disappeared, tiny camera disappearing with him. He changed his appearance, changing into a stereotypical 'normal' lover of rock and metal music, t-shirt, ripped jeans, frizzy brown hair that reaches his shoulders and decided to travel through time. It was now June 13th, at the Craufurd Arms in Milton Keynes in the UK, where Fozzy is playing. It's the middle of Jericho's set, and Panzer is rocking out to the music with everyone. A mosh pit appears, and he joins in, and rushes into it, as everyone starts shoving and body parts are being flung.

He smacks into a bigger man, who thought he was immovable due to his size, but gets shoulder tackled off his feet, glasses being flung. Fat dude, however, gets helped up, and his glasses picked up and given to him, only for him to return to the pit and becomes more aware of how he can be pushed off his fat ass.

The concert keeps up. However, soon the music is over, the concert finished, but as the crowd tries to disperse, they are teleported, to Red Lake. most befitting of what is about to happen.

"There is a murderer among you! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! THEY'RE ARMED AND DANGEROUS!"

Says his voice, booming across the air among the people he teleported. Soon he revealed himself, and grabbed a nearby woman, wearing a belly shirt, and jean shorts that might as well as be a thong with how much ass is showing. After he grabbed her, he picked her up then slammed her down onto his knee, back first, cracking her spine. He began to dash from person to person, as if he was a literal ghost. Seemingly float and with rapid speed. He'd choke people out, making it so they cannot longer breathe as the clawed and scraped at him only to move on to his next victim. He appeared be one woman, squeezed his red nose twice, honking at her, before making a green balloon appear out of seemingly nowhere and began to twist the long latex object.

"Look! It's a poodle!"

He showed her the object, and it did indeed look like a balloon poodle. However, it came to life and began to attack her, as if it were a real animal, and began to somehow bite and tear flesh from the woman.

"Awww, he likes you!"

He then disappeared and reappeared by a man, delivering a swift kick to his balls, then grabbed him from behind, placing his hands on his neck, only for PP to twist it so hard, the man's neck had been broken. He pulled out another balloon, two others, one smaller than the other two. He began to mold the balloons, changing them and they turned into a UTS-15 Shotgun, holding it as he moved quickly towards those running away, and began to fire away, blasting parts from their bodies as they screamed, well, bloody murder.

Once he was out of ammo, he dropped it and it popped into oblivion. He watched as a group went into a dilapidated cabin, hoping to be hidden from him, or at least rest before they ran further. He then laughed loudly, taking several balloons and molding them, one at a time, until one looked like a sword, another looked like a trident. He began to make his way towards the cabin, but every step caused a crunch of leaves and twigs, causing some of the more weak willed people to whimper loudly. Panzer stepped in front of the entrance to the cabin, turned the knob and sighed, finding it locked.

"You know what my favorite mascot is? Here's a hint."

He moved back a bit, before rushing forward while shouting at the top of his lungs

"OH YEAAAHHHH!!!"

People tried to run around him only for him to begin to cut people with his balloon sword, causing actual physical injuries, including maiming people. His other hand with the trident, began to spear people in the gut, then using his balloon sword, to cut their heads off before flinging them.

"Man, I will kill anybody. Children, animals, old people, doesn't matter. I just really love killing! Hope y'all know that!"

However he began to get tired, all of that physical exertion. It's not like he was Oswald. He actually had some stamina. So, he disappeared, bloodied everywhere, coating his hair, his face, his chest and legs, appearing in present time once more, looking at the camera.

"Nah, none of that is going to stick. Don't worry dear viewers! They're only dead by tomorrow's timeline. This timeline, I'm not going to kill anybody... yet."




He laughed out loud before he disappeared, appearing in the ring, looking at the camera as it levitated before his face as he spoke, grin on his face, a finger moving to the blood on his face, breathing semi-deeply as he regained himself, and wiping the blood of his face. The 'makeup' not being removed, but the blood does. He begins to wipe the blood off of his face and fling it away before it disappears into nonexistence.

"Okay Tiny Tim. Enough of your bullshit. I'm sick of it. You're also fucking up. Let's roll back the clip, if you would."

The X-Tron playing a clip from Nixon's promo

Nixie Babe Said:I respect all of my opponents and I believe in their ability to wrestle as a professional.


So, Nixon. Let's examine that, baby. You make two statements here. You respect your opponents, but you BELIEVE in their wrestling capabilities.


Thomas Nixon Said:But I never tried to make my opponents believe that I respect them. I made the distinct statement that I respect their ability. I respect their talent.

Now let's look at the previous statement once again, shall we?

Quote:I respect all of my opponents and I believe in their ability to wrestle as a professional.


See what I'm talking about? You're fucking lying, sweetie. You're trying to double-talk your way to victory and it ain't flying here. You said you RESPECT THEM! Flat out RESPECT THEM! Then you BELIEVED in their abilities. See what I mean about your two-face like shit?

Like I said, I know the type. You're playing the good guy shtick to try and become loved, but you're nothing more than a liar and a cheat like the rest of us, baby. Sorry to say. Now, it's a tiny, itty-bitty lie, this is true. But it shows that you're capable of being dastardly. Now, I've had enough shit from ya, and enough from Jemmy's homeworld. I'm tired of it. So, let's go back to someone I glossed over a while ago.

OH HAI DENNY! How are you?! I'm so sorry I missed you! It must be because you're TALKING ABOUT GHOST TANK! YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT THE FUCKING I SPAWNED OUT OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS FROM!

Maybe you should talk more about ME and not OSWALD. YOU FUCKING SIMPLE MINDED COCKJUGGLING THUNDERCUNT! Seriously! No one is actually talking about ME! THE DOUBLE P! THE PEE PEE! THE PANZER OF PHANTOMS!

You're all talking about fucking GHOST TANK! Seriously! Why should I waste even more fucking breath on you? You're not even talking to me. You're talking about Ozzy. Maybe if you actually PUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH WHERE IT BELONGED, COVERING THE FUCKING BARREL OF A 45 COLT REVOLVER, AS YOU COCK IT AND PULL THE TRIGGER TO WASH YOUR STUPIDITY OUT!

GODDAMN! I'm so fucking tired of you fucking cuntswords talking about the bitch ass fucker that kept reinventing himself, until he literally can't do it again! He's this Broken bitch, and that's so fucking sad.

Danny, Robe-ee. Whatever you fuckin' wanna call your stupid ass, maybe if you actually talked about me, I'd give a literal fuck and try harder to talk shit to you, but, y'know, you kept talking about someone completely different.

I'm a literal different entity. I'm a literal different everything. Oswald is stuck being a tall ass mongoloid lookin' motherfucker. I'm smaller, thinner. Much thinner, not as bulky, either. So, excuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuse me, Princess of Faggotry. I'm going to destroy that ass, motherfuckin' LONG DICK STYLE, YA BASIC ASS BITCH! Make you give me the succ as I finger your asshole. What? You don't like your prostate being tickled as you deep throat me? Too bad. Get used to it. Because this match is mine! The belt will be MINE! I will come out of this shit, smelling of roses, and making all you motherfuckers bow motherfuckin' DOWN to me! Call me what shit you want, but just know I'm better than you all in every fucking way, and I'mma show it at High Stakes.

I'm not Ghost Tank. I'm not Oswald. I am my own fucking separate being. The sooner you all fucking realize it, the sooner we can fucking move on, and maybe my opponents won't be so fucking and actually realize who the FUCK they're talking to!

I am PHANTOM PANZER! I am DOUBLE P! I am PEE PEE! And I will be walking out of High Stakes as the NEW T.V. CHAMPION!

BELIEVE THAT!

Wait.... That's gay...

Wait! THAT'S AMAZING!

IT'S SO FUCKING GAY, IT'S AMAZING! NO WONDER ROMAN REIGNS SAYS THAT SHIT!

Anyway, have a nice night, bitches, because when the match is coming, I will destroy all your asses. I will make your asses tap the fuck out. I don't care after I win. I'll go to each one of you fucks, and break as many fuckin' bones as possible and make you realize who I am. What I do. What lengths I'm willing to go to, to beat the living shitbricks out of you.

Peace the fuck out!"]]>


Double P, after spending time with Jemmy, came back to the present space and time, and grinned. After all that reminiscing, it reminded him of that bloodlust. He chuckled, then it turned into a laugh as he disappeared, tiny camera disappearing with him. He changed his appearance, changing into a stereotypical 'normal' lover of rock and metal music, t-shirt, ripped jeans, frizzy brown hair that reaches his shoulders and decided to travel through time. It was now June 13th, at the Craufurd Arms in Milton Keynes in the UK, where Fozzy is playing. It's the middle of Jericho's set, and Panzer is rocking out to the music with everyone. A mosh pit appears, and he joins in, and rushes into it, as everyone starts shoving and body parts are being flung.

He smacks into a bigger man, who thought he was immovable due to his size, but gets shoulder tackled off his feet, glasses being flung. Fat dude, however, gets helped up, and his glasses picked up and given to him, only for him to return to the pit and becomes more aware of how he can be pushed off his fat ass.

The concert keeps up. However, soon the music is over, the concert finished, but as the crowd tries to disperse, they are teleported, to Red Lake. most befitting of what is about to happen.

"There is a murderer among you! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! THEY'RE ARMED AND DANGEROUS!"

Says his voice, booming across the air among the people he teleported. Soon he revealed himself, and grabbed a nearby woman, wearing a belly shirt, and jean shorts that might as well as be a thong with how much ass is showing. After he grabbed her, he picked her up then slammed her down onto his knee, back first, cracking her spine. He began to dash from person to person, as if he was a literal ghost. Seemingly float and with rapid speed. He'd choke people out, making it so they cannot longer breathe as the clawed and scraped at him only to move on to his next victim. He appeared be one woman, squeezed his red nose twice, honking at her, before making a green balloon appear out of seemingly nowhere and began to twist the long latex object.

"Look! It's a poodle!"

He showed her the object, and it did indeed look like a balloon poodle. However, it came to life and began to attack her, as if it were a real animal, and began to somehow bite and tear flesh from the woman.

"Awww, he likes you!"

He then disappeared and reappeared by a man, delivering a swift kick to his balls, then grabbed him from behind, placing his hands on his neck, only for PP to twist it so hard, the man's neck had been broken. He pulled out another balloon, two others, one smaller than the other two. He began to mold the balloons, changing them and they turned into a UTS-15 Shotgun, holding it as he moved quickly towards those running away, and began to fire away, blasting parts from their bodies as they screamed, well, bloody murder.

Once he was out of ammo, he dropped it and it popped into oblivion. He watched as a group went into a dilapidated cabin, hoping to be hidden from him, or at least rest before they ran further. He then laughed loudly, taking several balloons and molding them, one at a time, until one looked like a sword, another looked like a trident. He began to make his way towards the cabin, but every step caused a crunch of leaves and twigs, causing some of the more weak willed people to whimper loudly. Panzer stepped in front of the entrance to the cabin, turned the knob and sighed, finding it locked.

"You know what my favorite mascot is? Here's a hint."

He moved back a bit, before rushing forward while shouting at the top of his lungs

"OH YEAAAHHHH!!!"

People tried to run around him only for him to begin to cut people with his balloon sword, causing actual physical injuries, including maiming people. His other hand with the trident, began to spear people in the gut, then using his balloon sword, to cut their heads off before flinging them.

"Man, I will kill anybody. Children, animals, old people, doesn't matter. I just really love killing! Hope y'all know that!"

However he began to get tired, all of that physical exertion. It's not like he was Oswald. He actually had some stamina. So, he disappeared, bloodied everywhere, coating his hair, his face, his chest and legs, appearing in present time once more, looking at the camera.

"Nah, none of that is going to stick. Don't worry dear viewers! They're only dead by tomorrow's timeline. This timeline, I'm not going to kill anybody... yet."




He laughed out loud before he disappeared, appearing in the ring, looking at the camera as it levitated before his face as he spoke, grin on his face, a finger moving to the blood on his face, breathing semi-deeply as he regained himself, and wiping the blood of his face. The 'makeup' not being removed, but the blood does. He begins to wipe the blood off of his face and fling it away before it disappears into nonexistence.

"Okay Tiny Tim. Enough of your bullshit. I'm sick of it. You're also fucking up. Let's roll back the clip, if you would."

The X-Tron playing a clip from Nixon's promo

Nixie Babe Said:I respect all of my opponents and I believe in their ability to wrestle as a professional.


So, Nixon. Let's examine that, baby. You make two statements here. You respect your opponents, but you BELIEVE in their wrestling capabilities.


Thomas Nixon Said:But I never tried to make my opponents believe that I respect them. I made the distinct statement that I respect their ability. I respect their talent.

Now let's look at the previous statement once again, shall we?

Quote:I respect all of my opponents and I believe in their ability to wrestle as a professional.


See what I'm talking about? You're fucking lying, sweetie. You're trying to double-talk your way to victory and it ain't flying here. You said you RESPECT THEM! Flat out RESPECT THEM! Then you BELIEVED in their abilities. See what I mean about your two-face like shit?

Like I said, I know the type. You're playing the good guy shtick to try and become loved, but you're nothing more than a liar and a cheat like the rest of us, baby. Sorry to say. Now, it's a tiny, itty-bitty lie, this is true. But it shows that you're capable of being dastardly. Now, I've had enough shit from ya, and enough from Jemmy's homeworld. I'm tired of it. So, let's go back to someone I glossed over a while ago.

OH HAI DENNY! How are you?! I'm so sorry I missed you! It must be because you're TALKING ABOUT GHOST TANK! YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT THE FUCKING I SPAWNED OUT OF THE CONSCIOUSNESS FROM!

Maybe you should talk more about ME and not OSWALD. YOU FUCKING SIMPLE MINDED COCKJUGGLING THUNDERCUNT! Seriously! No one is actually talking about ME! THE DOUBLE P! THE PEE PEE! THE PANZER OF PHANTOMS!

You're all talking about fucking GHOST TANK! Seriously! Why should I waste even more fucking breath on you? You're not even talking to me. You're talking about Ozzy. Maybe if you actually PUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH WHERE IT BELONGED, COVERING THE FUCKING BARREL OF A 45 COLT REVOLVER, AS YOU COCK IT AND PULL THE TRIGGER TO WASH YOUR STUPIDITY OUT!

GODDAMN! I'm so fucking tired of you fucking cuntswords talking about the bitch ass fucker that kept reinventing himself, until he literally can't do it again! He's this Broken bitch, and that's so fucking sad.

Danny, Robe-ee. Whatever you fuckin' wanna call your stupid ass, maybe if you actually talked about me, I'd give a literal fuck and try harder to talk shit to you, but, y'know, you kept talking about someone completely different.

I'm a literal different entity. I'm a literal different everything. Oswald is stuck being a tall ass mongoloid lookin' motherfucker. I'm smaller, thinner. Much thinner, not as bulky, either. So, excuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuse me, Princess of Faggotry. I'm going to destroy that ass, motherfuckin' LONG DICK STYLE, YA BASIC ASS BITCH! Make you give me the succ as I finger your asshole. What? You don't like your prostate being tickled as you deep throat me? Too bad. Get used to it. Because this match is mine! The belt will be MINE! I will come out of this shit, smelling of roses, and making all you motherfuckers bow motherfuckin' DOWN to me! Call me what shit you want, but just know I'm better than you all in every fucking way, and I'mma show it at High Stakes.

I'm not Ghost Tank. I'm not Oswald. I am my own fucking separate being. The sooner you all fucking realize it, the sooner we can fucking move on, and maybe my opponents won't be so fucking and actually realize who the FUCK they're talking to!

I am PHANTOM PANZER! I am DOUBLE P! I am PEE PEE! And I will be walking out of High Stakes as the NEW T.V. CHAMPION!

BELIEVE THAT!

Wait.... That's gay...

Wait! THAT'S AMAZING!

IT'S SO FUCKING GAY, IT'S AMAZING! NO WONDER ROMAN REIGNS SAYS THAT SHIT!

Anyway, have a nice night, bitches, because when the match is coming, I will destroy all your asses. I will make your asses tap the fuck out. I don't care after I win. I'll go to each one of you fucks, and break as many fuckin' bones as possible and make you realize who I am. What I do. What lengths I'm willing to go to, to beat the living shitbricks out of you.

Peace the fuck out!"]]> <![CDATA[Snooze]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28116 Sun, 11 Jun 2017 22:48:30 -0700 Danny Sex]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28116

Danny Sex is pretty tired. He's had a long day of talking to the voice of Robbie Bourbon in his head, running around trying to get laid in his awesome yellow paisley romper, and getting pelted by protesters.

Maybe it's time for a nap.

Danny Sex is laying down on a bench somewhere in the District of Columbia, looking like a homeless hipster.

"Get out, I want to sleep in my bed."

Mr. Sex: No, go 'way. I'm going to sleep right here on this bench.

"Have some dignity."

Mr. Sex: I don't want to. I wanted to go boink a ton of hot babes today to get ready to bang some dude's dads. That's all I wanted, is that too much to ask?

"Well, do it on your time, not on mine."

Mr. Sex: This is my time now! I'm shining like some coins you left in your pocket when you do your laundry here, and you came around and dulled me up!

"No, it's my time. You took it from me."

Mr. Sex: Yeah, well, tough. My balls ache.

"They're my balls."

Mr. Sex: No, you weren't using them. For almost two years you were running around the XWF never using your balls. Not once. You could have, you could have had a ton of sex if you wanted, but no. Instead you did everything but have sex. Now I show up to go have a ton of sex, and instead you just put a damper on that too.

"It wasn't your dick to use, asshole!"

Mr. Sex: Nobody was using it.

Danny Sex looks very sad, knowing that not only did he not use his penis to have sex with a vagina today, but that if Robbie does somehow gain control of his body again, that penis will nary see use in an XWF promo ever again. Robbie Bourbon never was known as a Casanova, and his penile use was always nonexistent before Danny Sex. Danny Sex needed to gain some control again, not only to keep winning in the XWF as Danny Sex, but to keep winning in his penis. You have a slight pity boner right now. You never masturbated to Robbie Bourbon like you do Danny Sex, pumping your filthy yet important slime with vigorous throttling of your penis. You miss the exciting promos that used to air whenever Danny Sex was announced.

"Look, I know you're tired. I get that. You're people too, but you gotta get your own body or something. I need mine."

Mr. Sex: Not that anybody could notice.

"Oh yeah? Look, you were, um, novel, to say the least. Leaps and bounds more entertaining than a lot of the weird bastards that run around the XWF."

Mr. Sex: Do you really think so?

"Sure I do. For starters, take Jim Caedus."

Mr. Sex: He's good.

"Meh. He's pretty bland. Like, he's this massive fuck up from around fifteen years ago, and had all this gnarly shit happen to him, but he never explains where he became a seventh grade English teacher analyzing promo after promo. He used to have a fighting edge, I'll give him that, but really he's just going out there, airing a bunch of dead drama from so long ago it's moot, pointless, and blah, then giving a critique on another dude's promo work. Seriously, this guy is the Universal Champion and he spends most of his time explaining how he's overcome personal demons."

Mr. Sex: Sounds a little familiar...

"Shut up. My demons are important."

Mr. Sex: Hypocrite.

"Yup. I sure am. Then we hear Caedus give some overly analytical bullshit, trying to pick apart his opponent's words. The shitty thing is, the Universal Champion is an example, and now other dipshits are doing the same fucking thing. Phantom Panzer completely glossed over everything I said, I guess he couldn't pick up on the weird way my thoughts come across as dialogue, but that's his loss. He's a massive cunt anyhow. I think he was just forcibly ignoring me so his feelings wouldn't get hurt over the fact that the seed that begat him, Ghost Tank, sucked balls harder than Reeve Gordon at a pride parade."

Mr. Sex: That's homophobic.

"Meh, it's more poking fun at Ghost Tank than anything else. What the fuck is it with how sensitive the whole XWF has got? I reckon too many folks around here started getting the goofy notion in their heads that they're artists or some such bullshit. Even Jack Cain tries to wax philosophical about this and that, and he's trying to hype himself up to be some violent bruiser ready to punish, um, people. Seriously, total Goth kid. Thomas Nixon wants to piss and moan that I shoot off at the mouth instead of playing some pure, clean game with him. The only fucker that seems to grasp that the whole name of the game is to go out and physically hurt each other is Drezdin, and he has a speech impediment caused by eating his own poop. Not shit, not feces, his own poop. Pushes it through one of those funny little Play-Doh mold kits to be in fun shapes like stars and, well, other fun shapes."

Mr. Sex: You don't think other shapes are fun?

"No, I don't fucking think shapes are fun."

Mr. Sex: I think the female shape is a lot of fun.

"Well, yeah, in doses, but my kind of fun, the fun the whole fucking XWF Universe, the people, Danny, the fun the people want is violence. Graphic, gratuitous, wild, and unending."

Mr. Sex: You're sick.

"You're telling that to a voice in your head."

Mr. Sex: Point.

"Look at the current state of the XWF ownership. I mean, the people could give two shits about months long arbitration, legal battles, and the regular ways business gets conducted. Sure, there'd be a handful of people interested, I guess, but as soon as the men running the place all want to hurt each other then it's entertainment! Vinnie Lane and The Kings™ go to the board room and the fans lose. Vinnie Lane and The Kings™ go down to the ring and the fans win. That's just..."

Mr. Sex: That's insane! The fate and ownership of a company shouldn't rest on a wrestling match. Would it make any sense if the ownership of McDonald's decided on when to release the McRib based on a beauty pageant?

"That sounds awesome."

Mr. Sex: You're fucking with me.

"Well, yeah. I could totally go for a McRib right now, though. You stole my body and whored around with it, I'm supposed to be sensitive to your psyche?. Besides, Taco Bell decides to give away free tacos based on stuff that happens in the NBA Finals."

Mr. Sex: Point.

"I know I have a point. This is the fucking XWF, man! This is where barbarism trumps well thought out arguments and a punch in the face beats a debate. This is where we have to shit into the cup for our drug tests and prove how violent we can be to win the hearts and minds of billions. It isn't some episode of Meet the Press. Bill Mahar or Sean Hannity aren't coming out and winning the god damned Hart Title any time soon for having some smooth or savvy wordplay at their disposal. It's where freaks like Michael Graves get a chance to put their hands on Dolly Waters, not only for personal pleasure, but for fame and money! It's where a Kingslayer gets shafted by Kings, trademark or no! It's where a Bearded War Pig can shine like a fucking god in the eyes of crowded arenas, bars, and probably a few pockets of Hell for beating the snot out of the elderly, the mentally challenged, or women. It's where the fucking Super Mario Brothers, well, that really makes no sense, but I fucking went to war with Gamegirl, I guess it was a matter of time that Nintendo tried to capitalize on the XWF brand. It's where Peter Gilmour remains relevant and famous for no other reason than having had his dick cut off and occasionally going around getting his dick wet with transsexuals dressed as D-list celebrities. It's where Cadryn Tiberius runs around having fun with his dick. You know what it isn't? It isn't where Robbie Bourbon has fun with his penis."

Mr. Sex: That's because I'm Danny Sex.

"See, that's how weird it gets. I sincerely feel like I can not only walk away from a six man match, but also walk away from a match with the whole fucking roster involved, the Deuces Wild itself, and be the victor, and I'm just a voice in your head at the moment."

Mr. Sex: That's bananas.

"Stranger things have happened. Tables used to run around here terrorizing Maverick, Maverick shat on a title then had said title shit on by Crimson Dong, and the Dick of Peter Gilmour is self conscious. I think a disembodied voice winning a battle royale is not only feasible, it's bound to happen."

Mr. Sex: Yeah, well, not happening. I'm not giving up this fine body.

"What, you're just going to sleep on a bench with it?"

Mr. Sex: Yup. Then I'm going to go get some poon from some hot babes tomorrow after you're all shut up.

"So you're going to sleep on a park bench then get with some hot babes? Don't you need a shower or something?"

Mr. Sex: Nope, I'm Mr. Sex. I get all the sex with all the hot babes.

"God, you're a one trick pony, you know that? Jesus, you're like those weirdoes that put stock and credence into the Paul Heyman rankings or something. Shit, I was near the tippy top of those damn things for a while, and you know what they did for me? Jack and shit. The Heyman rankings mean as much as a kindergärtner's finger paintings, or good landscaping. Fuck all, they're just nice to look at and occasionally you have to laud someone for creating them. But when you consider some folks put such faith into those damn things that there's probably a collection plate going around somewhere in between bouts of looking in a hymnal regarding the Paul Heyman power rankings. Chris Chaos, Robert Main, too many goofy doofus yahoos, blessing themselves with the Paul Heyman power holy water, taking a seat in the Paul Heyman power pews, and eating the Paul Heyman power wafers at the end of mass. You know who's not at the top of the Paul Heyman power rankings? The guy who's going to win the fucking Deuces Wild. It's all on paper, going back to more nonsense and bullshit from athletes who used to be good and now just have their heads so far up their own asses and loving the smell of it. 'Hi, guys, I'm here to be a bonafide ass kicker, but really I'm here to analyze, reanalyze, and overanalyze promo after promo like my name was Promo Sins only I'm nowhere near as insightful. Watch as I suck my own cock and then spit the end result your way, MMMMMM! Isn't that just the tastiest? Now let me tell you how awful your dick cheese tastes in comparison.' This shit is running too fucking rampant and these motherfuckers need to have a foot put up their ass and their noses shattered. The people are getting sick of it. The people aren't tuning in to watch play-by-play commentary of play-by-play commentary of a promo. That shit's fucking lame, it's fucking tired, and it's got to go. If Jon Brown wants to cure the cancer, he can go for it, give that shit a dose of chemo and let it's family sweat out the stress. Me, well, I'd much rather take an axe to the infected leg and just lop it off."

Mr. Sex: Jesus, what the hell are you going off about? I thought that guy didn't like The Kings™.

"I don't give a flying fuck what Brown thinks. If he carries himself into the double rings, he's carrying himself out. Same goes for every other doofy bastard in the back, thinking, rethinking, and overthinking the simplest shit in the world. I just gotta remain calm, take a few deep breaths, and throw motherfuckers around like the god damned rag dolls I know I can throw them around like."

Mr. Sex: You sound fucking crazy.

"You're talking to yourself."

Mr. Sex: I fucking hate you.

"I hate you too."

Mr. Sex: Why, though, why the need to go around and just beat the snot out of, well, everybody? I want to go bang hot babes.

"Because it's what the people demand. It's what the people are in a fervor for. The people are tired of watching the debate club. They're tired of the nonsense, the bullshit they're fed on the day to day. They want to be entertained, and they want blood. The people, Danny, are fucking nuts. Show me someone who says they aren't crazy and I'll show you someone with some really dark, deep, and twisted fucking crazy on their hands. The people deserve what they want, the people have needs. You talk about your needs all you want, and I'll give them to you. I'll do everything in my power to get you what you want. Hot babes? You got it. I'll bust my ass for it. But I can't do that for you when you're in control, do you understand."

Danny Sex sits up for a moment, considering what was said. Your boner is pretty weak, because even you are considering your own existence at this point. Maybe getting in touch with the human race means more than just touching penis to vagina. Maybe the empty feeling inside you isn't going to get filled by someone else, but by yourself. Maybe the only thing that'll keep you going, day in, day out, is acknowledging you are one of the people, and that giving yourself the best possible odds to get ahead is what you owe yourself. Maybe you're waking up to that fact, maybe you're nodding along in agreement, maybe you're shaking it off like it's some odd notion you'll never come to terms with because you're just too damn proud to hear it. You check your dick again, it's still limp. Pretty piss poor for a Danny Sex promo. Danny Sex agrees.

Mr. Sex: You're a fucking loser, I want to get my dick wet.

"What's stopping you?"

Mr. Sex: You are!

"This whole world is you versus you, you just made the mistake of taking me for you."]]>

Danny Sex is pretty tired. He's had a long day of talking to the voice of Robbie Bourbon in his head, running around trying to get laid in his awesome yellow paisley romper, and getting pelted by protesters.

Maybe it's time for a nap.

Danny Sex is laying down on a bench somewhere in the District of Columbia, looking like a homeless hipster.

"Get out, I want to sleep in my bed."

Mr. Sex: No, go 'way. I'm going to sleep right here on this bench.

"Have some dignity."

Mr. Sex: I don't want to. I wanted to go boink a ton of hot babes today to get ready to bang some dude's dads. That's all I wanted, is that too much to ask?

"Well, do it on your time, not on mine."

Mr. Sex: This is my time now! I'm shining like some coins you left in your pocket when you do your laundry here, and you came around and dulled me up!

"No, it's my time. You took it from me."

Mr. Sex: Yeah, well, tough. My balls ache.

"They're my balls."

Mr. Sex: No, you weren't using them. For almost two years you were running around the XWF never using your balls. Not once. You could have, you could have had a ton of sex if you wanted, but no. Instead you did everything but have sex. Now I show up to go have a ton of sex, and instead you just put a damper on that too.

"It wasn't your dick to use, asshole!"

Mr. Sex: Nobody was using it.

Danny Sex looks very sad, knowing that not only did he not use his penis to have sex with a vagina today, but that if Robbie does somehow gain control of his body again, that penis will nary see use in an XWF promo ever again. Robbie Bourbon never was known as a Casanova, and his penile use was always nonexistent before Danny Sex. Danny Sex needed to gain some control again, not only to keep winning in the XWF as Danny Sex, but to keep winning in his penis. You have a slight pity boner right now. You never masturbated to Robbie Bourbon like you do Danny Sex, pumping your filthy yet important slime with vigorous throttling of your penis. You miss the exciting promos that used to air whenever Danny Sex was announced.

"Look, I know you're tired. I get that. You're people too, but you gotta get your own body or something. I need mine."

Mr. Sex: Not that anybody could notice.

"Oh yeah? Look, you were, um, novel, to say the least. Leaps and bounds more entertaining than a lot of the weird bastards that run around the XWF."

Mr. Sex: Do you really think so?

"Sure I do. For starters, take Jim Caedus."

Mr. Sex: He's good.

"Meh. He's pretty bland. Like, he's this massive fuck up from around fifteen years ago, and had all this gnarly shit happen to him, but he never explains where he became a seventh grade English teacher analyzing promo after promo. He used to have a fighting edge, I'll give him that, but really he's just going out there, airing a bunch of dead drama from so long ago it's moot, pointless, and blah, then giving a critique on another dude's promo work. Seriously, this guy is the Universal Champion and he spends most of his time explaining how he's overcome personal demons."

Mr. Sex: Sounds a little familiar...

"Shut up. My demons are important."

Mr. Sex: Hypocrite.

"Yup. I sure am. Then we hear Caedus give some overly analytical bullshit, trying to pick apart his opponent's words. The shitty thing is, the Universal Champion is an example, and now other dipshits are doing the same fucking thing. Phantom Panzer completely glossed over everything I said, I guess he couldn't pick up on the weird way my thoughts come across as dialogue, but that's his loss. He's a massive cunt anyhow. I think he was just forcibly ignoring me so his feelings wouldn't get hurt over the fact that the seed that begat him, Ghost Tank, sucked balls harder than Reeve Gordon at a pride parade."

Mr. Sex: That's homophobic.

"Meh, it's more poking fun at Ghost Tank than anything else. What the fuck is it with how sensitive the whole XWF has got? I reckon too many folks around here started getting the goofy notion in their heads that they're artists or some such bullshit. Even Jack Cain tries to wax philosophical about this and that, and he's trying to hype himself up to be some violent bruiser ready to punish, um, people. Seriously, total Goth kid. Thomas Nixon wants to piss and moan that I shoot off at the mouth instead of playing some pure, clean game with him. The only fucker that seems to grasp that the whole name of the game is to go out and physically hurt each other is Drezdin, and he has a speech impediment caused by eating his own poop. Not shit, not feces, his own poop. Pushes it through one of those funny little Play-Doh mold kits to be in fun shapes like stars and, well, other fun shapes."

Mr. Sex: You don't think other shapes are fun?

"No, I don't fucking think shapes are fun."

Mr. Sex: I think the female shape is a lot of fun.

"Well, yeah, in doses, but my kind of fun, the fun the whole fucking XWF Universe, the people, Danny, the fun the people want is violence. Graphic, gratuitous, wild, and unending."

Mr. Sex: You're sick.

"You're telling that to a voice in your head."

Mr. Sex: Point.

"Look at the current state of the XWF ownership. I mean, the people could give two shits about months long arbitration, legal battles, and the regular ways business gets conducted. Sure, there'd be a handful of people interested, I guess, but as soon as the men running the place all want to hurt each other then it's entertainment! Vinnie Lane and The Kings™ go to the board room and the fans lose. Vinnie Lane and The Kings™ go down to the ring and the fans win. That's just..."

Mr. Sex: That's insane! The fate and ownership of a company shouldn't rest on a wrestling match. Would it make any sense if the ownership of McDonald's decided on when to release the McRib based on a beauty pageant?

"That sounds awesome."

Mr. Sex: You're fucking with me.

"Well, yeah. I could totally go for a McRib right now, though. You stole my body and whored around with it, I'm supposed to be sensitive to your psyche?. Besides, Taco Bell decides to give away free tacos based on stuff that happens in the NBA Finals."

Mr. Sex: Point.

"I know I have a point. This is the fucking XWF, man! This is where barbarism trumps well thought out arguments and a punch in the face beats a debate. This is where we have to shit into the cup for our drug tests and prove how violent we can be to win the hearts and minds of billions. It isn't some episode of Meet the Press. Bill Mahar or Sean Hannity aren't coming out and winning the god damned Hart Title any time soon for having some smooth or savvy wordplay at their disposal. It's where freaks like Michael Graves get a chance to put their hands on Dolly Waters, not only for personal pleasure, but for fame and money! It's where a Kingslayer gets shafted by Kings, trademark or no! It's where a Bearded War Pig can shine like a fucking god in the eyes of crowded arenas, bars, and probably a few pockets of Hell for beating the snot out of the elderly, the mentally challenged, or women. It's where the fucking Super Mario Brothers, well, that really makes no sense, but I fucking went to war with Gamegirl, I guess it was a matter of time that Nintendo tried to capitalize on the XWF brand. It's where Peter Gilmour remains relevant and famous for no other reason than having had his dick cut off and occasionally going around getting his dick wet with transsexuals dressed as D-list celebrities. It's where Cadryn Tiberius runs around having fun with his dick. You know what it isn't? It isn't where Robbie Bourbon has fun with his penis."

Mr. Sex: That's because I'm Danny Sex.

"See, that's how weird it gets. I sincerely feel like I can not only walk away from a six man match, but also walk away from a match with the whole fucking roster involved, the Deuces Wild itself, and be the victor, and I'm just a voice in your head at the moment."

Mr. Sex: That's bananas.

"Stranger things have happened. Tables used to run around here terrorizing Maverick, Maverick shat on a title then had said title shit on by Crimson Dong, and the Dick of Peter Gilmour is self conscious. I think a disembodied voice winning a battle royale is not only feasible, it's bound to happen."

Mr. Sex: Yeah, well, not happening. I'm not giving up this fine body.

"What, you're just going to sleep on a bench with it?"

Mr. Sex: Yup. Then I'm going to go get some poon from some hot babes tomorrow after you're all shut up.

"So you're going to sleep on a park bench then get with some hot babes? Don't you need a shower or something?"

Mr. Sex: Nope, I'm Mr. Sex. I get all the sex with all the hot babes.

"God, you're a one trick pony, you know that? Jesus, you're like those weirdoes that put stock and credence into the Paul Heyman rankings or something. Shit, I was near the tippy top of those damn things for a while, and you know what they did for me? Jack and shit. The Heyman rankings mean as much as a kindergärtner's finger paintings, or good landscaping. Fuck all, they're just nice to look at and occasionally you have to laud someone for creating them. But when you consider some folks put such faith into those damn things that there's probably a collection plate going around somewhere in between bouts of looking in a hymnal regarding the Paul Heyman power rankings. Chris Chaos, Robert Main, too many goofy doofus yahoos, blessing themselves with the Paul Heyman power holy water, taking a seat in the Paul Heyman power pews, and eating the Paul Heyman power wafers at the end of mass. You know who's not at the top of the Paul Heyman power rankings? The guy who's going to win the fucking Deuces Wild. It's all on paper, going back to more nonsense and bullshit from athletes who used to be good and now just have their heads so far up their own asses and loving the smell of it. 'Hi, guys, I'm here to be a bonafide ass kicker, but really I'm here to analyze, reanalyze, and overanalyze promo after promo like my name was Promo Sins only I'm nowhere near as insightful. Watch as I suck my own cock and then spit the end result your way, MMMMMM! Isn't that just the tastiest? Now let me tell you how awful your dick cheese tastes in comparison.' This shit is running too fucking rampant and these motherfuckers need to have a foot put up their ass and their noses shattered. The people are getting sick of it. The people aren't tuning in to watch play-by-play commentary of play-by-play commentary of a promo. That shit's fucking lame, it's fucking tired, and it's got to go. If Jon Brown wants to cure the cancer, he can go for it, give that shit a dose of chemo and let it's family sweat out the stress. Me, well, I'd much rather take an axe to the infected leg and just lop it off."

Mr. Sex: Jesus, what the hell are you going off about? I thought that guy didn't like The Kings™.

"I don't give a flying fuck what Brown thinks. If he carries himself into the double rings, he's carrying himself out. Same goes for every other doofy bastard in the back, thinking, rethinking, and overthinking the simplest shit in the world. I just gotta remain calm, take a few deep breaths, and throw motherfuckers around like the god damned rag dolls I know I can throw them around like."

Mr. Sex: You sound fucking crazy.

"You're talking to yourself."

Mr. Sex: I fucking hate you.

"I hate you too."

Mr. Sex: Why, though, why the need to go around and just beat the snot out of, well, everybody? I want to go bang hot babes.

"Because it's what the people demand. It's what the people are in a fervor for. The people are tired of watching the debate club. They're tired of the nonsense, the bullshit they're fed on the day to day. They want to be entertained, and they want blood. The people, Danny, are fucking nuts. Show me someone who says they aren't crazy and I'll show you someone with some really dark, deep, and twisted fucking crazy on their hands. The people deserve what they want, the people have needs. You talk about your needs all you want, and I'll give them to you. I'll do everything in my power to get you what you want. Hot babes? You got it. I'll bust my ass for it. But I can't do that for you when you're in control, do you understand."

Danny Sex sits up for a moment, considering what was said. Your boner is pretty weak, because even you are considering your own existence at this point. Maybe getting in touch with the human race means more than just touching penis to vagina. Maybe the empty feeling inside you isn't going to get filled by someone else, but by yourself. Maybe the only thing that'll keep you going, day in, day out, is acknowledging you are one of the people, and that giving yourself the best possible odds to get ahead is what you owe yourself. Maybe you're waking up to that fact, maybe you're nodding along in agreement, maybe you're shaking it off like it's some odd notion you'll never come to terms with because you're just too damn proud to hear it. You check your dick again, it's still limp. Pretty piss poor for a Danny Sex promo. Danny Sex agrees.

Mr. Sex: You're a fucking loser, I want to get my dick wet.

"What's stopping you?"

Mr. Sex: You are!

"This whole world is you versus you, you just made the mistake of taking me for you."]]> <![CDATA[Road to High Stakes 2 Rp#4]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28128 Sun, 11 Jun 2017 22:13:32 -0700 Mezian]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28128 We find Mezian sitting in front of a leviathan cross inside his room. The room is dark with only a few candles that give us a blurry out line of him. Without turning to the camera he speaks.

You know Peter,I was almost to the point of not caring about what you had to say. Almost to the point of just accepting what ever destiny the winds of fate gave me on Tuesday. But as always you had to open that big ,loud,obnoxious mouth of yours. You started off by saying that your wife wouldn't fuck me if I were a million times better looking than you. Well that's a weight of my shoulders, because Im at least 2 million times better than you. Also the idea that you went to the Bunny Ranch to pay to get laid is amusing. I didn't know they gave discounts to people like you. I mean unless the xwf is paying you to lose. If that's the case you must be one rich mother tucker.

Then you made comments about my interview with Gorilla Position.Did you actually watch my interview? Because the shit you said about what we said made no sense. I watched your Dvds, I said I HAD some respect for you. Although I will take credit for saying Im gonna re arrange your jaw. Mostly because that sounds fun. Im glad Maria will be ringside. It will be easier for me to look her in the eyes as I dismember you. All while laughing as she watches in horror. The thing is peter you don't really know what I am capable of. I have kept it all in check for the most part.

He occasionally come out to play. When I need him to or if he is hungry. What Im talking about is the spirit that resides in my body. The that is Mezian.He is really looking forward to meeting you in the ring. He finds your ambiguous attempts of intimidation entertaining.

And to top it all off you mentioned my mother. The woman who raised me. Who took care of me while I was sick. The only person in my life that didn't turn their back on me when I was admitted into the psych ward. I would do anything for that woman. UN fortunately for you she isn't alive. She died nine years ago to chrones disease. But that won't stop me from breaking every Fucking bone in your body for mentioning her.

The candles flicker out and everything is dark. Mezian screams as the the camera crew scrambles to find a light switch. After a few moments one of the crew pulls out his phone and finds the light switch. The lights come back on and Mezian isn't where he was on the floor. The crew search for him through out the room. As they go to leave the room Mezian reappears cover in blood and smiling. The sinister grin taking up moat of his lower face his eyes an eerie bright green. As blood drips from his mouth he grabs ahold of the camera

Hello there Peter,I am the thing Patrick was speaking of. I am the one known as Mezian. I have been kept away for too long. I need to feed,I want to hurt you and Im going to. While I hurt you I am going to enjoy every agonizing scream you let out. It will be almost erotic the amount of pleasure I will experience while hurting you. And your friend Mc Bride he will go through the same thing. All while your beautiful wife and the rest of the world watches. There is nothing that you can change the out come of Tuesday. I will win,I will eviscerate you and your partner,I will stare into her eyes and watch her cry tears of sadness as they cart you out of the arena.
This is your fate Peter Gilmour and Michael McBride.

THE APOCALYPSE IS NOW ......AND YOUR END IS NIGH

The camera falls to the ground as the camera crew runs out of the room fearing for their life. The camera cuts out after Mezian stomps on it.]]> We find Mezian sitting in front of a leviathan cross inside his room. The room is dark with only a few candles that give us a blurry out line of him. Without turning to the camera he speaks.

You know Peter,I was almost to the point of not caring about what you had to say. Almost to the point of just accepting what ever destiny the winds of fate gave me on Tuesday. But as always you had to open that big ,loud,obnoxious mouth of yours. You started off by saying that your wife wouldn't fuck me if I were a million times better looking than you. Well that's a weight of my shoulders, because Im at least 2 million times better than you. Also the idea that you went to the Bunny Ranch to pay to get laid is amusing. I didn't know they gave discounts to people like you. I mean unless the xwf is paying you to lose. If that's the case you must be one rich mother tucker.

Then you made comments about my interview with Gorilla Position.Did you actually watch my interview? Because the shit you said about what we said made no sense. I watched your Dvds, I said I HAD some respect for you. Although I will take credit for saying Im gonna re arrange your jaw. Mostly because that sounds fun. Im glad Maria will be ringside. It will be easier for me to look her in the eyes as I dismember you. All while laughing as she watches in horror. The thing is peter you don't really know what I am capable of. I have kept it all in check for the most part.

He occasionally come out to play. When I need him to or if he is hungry. What Im talking about is the spirit that resides in my body. The that is Mezian.He is really looking forward to meeting you in the ring. He finds your ambiguous attempts of intimidation entertaining.

And to top it all off you mentioned my mother. The woman who raised me. Who took care of me while I was sick. The only person in my life that didn't turn their back on me when I was admitted into the psych ward. I would do anything for that woman. UN fortunately for you she isn't alive. She died nine years ago to chrones disease. But that won't stop me from breaking every Fucking bone in your body for mentioning her.

The candles flicker out and everything is dark. Mezian screams as the the camera crew scrambles to find a light switch. After a few moments one of the crew pulls out his phone and finds the light switch. The lights come back on and Mezian isn't where he was on the floor. The crew search for him through out the room. As they go to leave the room Mezian reappears cover in blood and smiling. The sinister grin taking up moat of his lower face his eyes an eerie bright green. As blood drips from his mouth he grabs ahold of the camera

Hello there Peter,I am the thing Patrick was speaking of. I am the one known as Mezian. I have been kept away for too long. I need to feed,I want to hurt you and Im going to. While I hurt you I am going to enjoy every agonizing scream you let out. It will be almost erotic the amount of pleasure I will experience while hurting you. And your friend Mc Bride he will go through the same thing. All while your beautiful wife and the rest of the world watches. There is nothing that you can change the out come of Tuesday. I will win,I will eviscerate you and your partner,I will stare into her eyes and watch her cry tears of sadness as they cart you out of the arena.
This is your fate Peter Gilmour and Michael McBride.

THE APOCALYPSE IS NOW ......AND YOUR END IS NIGH

The camera falls to the ground as the camera crew runs out of the room fearing for their life. The camera cuts out after Mezian stomps on it.]]> <![CDATA[Lacerating a Liar]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28126 Sun, 11 Jun 2017 21:59:28 -0700 JimCaedus]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28126

-Late 2002-


Dusty opens his eyes and blinks weirdly. I knee-jerk toss my knife into a patch of calla lilies without thinking then immediately kick myself for doing it.

I definitely don't get it when I walk over and grab Dusty by the arm, pulling him to his feet. He wobbles, falls back but I pull him forward again. He follows with the momentum and nearly drops forward this time onto his face before I catch him with my left arm and steady him.

I can't do this. This is crazy. I'll get caught. What the fuck am I thinking doing this here!?

"I have to go home," he slurs.

I'm not prepared for that. He takes a step back and his legs noodle, dropping him to his ass split-legged with his palms on the grass. I actually feel kinda sorry for 'im.

I knocked this motherfucker out. He's gonna call the cops for sure. I'm fucked.

"What happened?"

What? No way. What the fuck?

"Jimmy? When'd you got here?"

I'm fucked when he remembers. I have to do something.

"Dude, we're at my house. Remember? You took a big ass hit o' shit and you held it in and passed the fuck out," I lie. "Fuckin' numbskull," I add for effect.

"What? Help me, man."

I help him up.

"I don't feel good, I have to go home."

Get 'im the fuck outta here.

I lead him like an elderly man back out to the street. It takes a good 5 minutes or so of stop and go walking to get Dusty back to his '93 Honda Civic. It takes him too long to unlock the door and get in.

Then he sits there, staring out the windshield. I start losing my cool.

"Dusty you gotta go. Drive safe."

He frowns. Looks down at his lap. Looks to me...silently. Finally after several seconds:

"Hit me up later."

"Yeah ok."

I close his door and he slides his key into the ignition, starting the engine. I walk away. By the time I've reached my house he's still sitting there with the engine running. I move to walk back, stop, then take two steps before he reverses, turns left, and rolls away.

I take a look up and down the street before retreating into the house. I scamper-limp to the back door and out into the backyard. I snatch up first the pookie and bandanna then the knife.

I spot the dub baggy, still mostly full. I snatch that too.

Leave. You have to leave. You need an alibi.

As fast as I can, I'm back dash-hobbling through the house to the front room, barely pulling the bay window curtain aside to peek out in paranoia. No parents yet. Out the front doors I go, locking up in haste behind myself, nearly tripping as I cross the lawn, whipping open the door to the car and hopping back in.

"What took so long," Nicole asks, opening the front door as I limp up? "Trevor's gonna be home in an hour!"

She glances down at my swollen right hand.

"What _happened_!?"

Nicole turns and strides on those long Italian legs of hers into the kitchen. I hear the freezer open, the muted roar of the icebox, the rustling of cubes, the ripping of paper towel... The freezer slams closed and she returns, offering me the makeshift ice pack. She kisses my hand.

Before I take the pack, I pull the dub baggy from my left pocket and hold it out.

"Did you rob Dusty? Is that what happened?"

I hadn't _robbed_ him obviously, so the scoff and look of incredulity I react with is genuine.

"What? No." A laugh. I force it. I accept the ice pack as soon as she takes the dub. "I fuckin' laid 'im out though."

"Shut up," she blurts, "really??"

"He deserved it, Waffles. He stabbed me in the back over Heather. He deserves worse and he's fuckin' lucky I didn't do it. If anyone asks...I've been here with you the whole time. K?"

Nicole nods. She may not have ever accepted me as a serious relationship but she'd never betray me. Ever.

"Now all I need to do is pay back Sean Bankston."

"Sean _Bankston_!? You didn't hear?? He died last year, dude. Car accident."

My initial shock is almost immediately replaced by amusement. So Sean's already dead, eh? And I've knocked Dusty into amnesia. This feels...like a victory.

I don't need to actually kill for all situations, or any, of betrayal...all I have to do...is knock 'em out and everything else falls into place...

The two of us retire to the bedroom. And I...I am at ease.

END
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Lacerating a Liar"







-The Venetian, Las Vegas, Nevada-

-Sunday June 11 2017-


Having already prepped my phone for promo and running severely short on time the scene opens recording, still holed up in my hotel room following my less than ideal dealings pertaining to my medical marijuana grow and silent partnership with a mafia don demanding 100% of the profits for the next 12 harvests.

"Thaddeus Duke...I forgot how tiring it gets when the opponents you debate with find it in any way credible to argue for argument's sake. That is, in a nutshell, what's been happenin' since I uploaded my first furious flayin' and has continued with not only yourself but the fruitbasket you try so very hard to differentiate yourself from: Kristin Chaos. However, where Chaos will either ignore a nailin' out of recognition of futility or simply offer up a truly pathetic parry in response, you'll take my apt accusations and respond to them in a way they weren't presented. Now unless you're incapable of comprehension, and I don't believe that to be the case, that tells me, since this is now the second time you've done it, you truly do believe you're smarter than I am. Hell, you may actually believe you're smarter than ALL of us, otherwise it makes zero sense why you attempt to squirm your maggot ass under the radar with such obvious inaccuracies and deceit. At this point it becomes prudent to present what I specifically refer to. But first...

In your 8th symphony of semi-decent, after that very flattering introductory rundown o' moi, which, I must admit made me blush...you plowed forward into the territory o' treachery I've had you twerkin' to like the puppet master I am, startin' with "Aw, Shut the Fuck Up". You stated in no uncertain terms you believe everyone should be out for themselves in this business...and here we are right back where we started...when I accused you of joining Ax3 just to get close to the Uni title and you denied it. Lemme tell ya, the concept behind a stable is team, Thaddeus. Team. The fact you've shown you've no loyalty whatsoever to any team GIFTING you with membership, whether it be you fuckin' over Dolly or you aiding in makin' things difficult for myself and Ax3, the point remains. Do you see The Kings at each other's throats? What about Vinny, Jimmy and Johnny? I dare say, and I motherfuckin' guaranTEE it...even if the Universal Title were held by one member o' one o' those groups, they still wouldn't be experiencin' the amateur ass backstabbery and sophomoric slimy shenanigans displayed by you and Chrissy Chaos. It's all my fault for inviting either of you, as well. I take full responsibility in believin' a brotherhood could exist between children and men. Shit...with the exception of my bro Bobby, I truly DON'T know who to trust anymore among us. I don't know why I overlooked Graves and his blatant support of Cadryn in the halls at HQ that day when Main came under fire by The Essence o' Temporary Excellence Tiberius. That aside, revise your statement, Thaddeus. When it comes to those who can't crush, those who hate for no reason other than jealousy...THOSE people will always be out for themselves. That isn't me. I AM great at what I do, I don't NEED to play dirty. You can consider me a better person than you, Duke. I knowingly allowed you and Chaos into Ax3 with no motivation other than friendship. It wasn't because I thought I couldn't just come at you from the position of an enemy, it wasn't because I didn't think I couldn't defeat you, I can definitely beat the shit outta both o' you. The only thing that occurred here is a man mightier than the two o' you gave you both a shot at bein' better than you are and you failed. It's a credit to ME, not either of you, that it takes scheming to get to Jim Caedus. It proves just how dangerous I am...and it reveals how foolish you are thinkin' you could play mind games in your promo.

Here we arrive at what I was speakin' of prior. Jim Caedus never said you protest the Dolly incident too much. Jim Caedus said you protest the relation to Theo Pryce too much. And I know why you attempted so weakly to divert attention away from the points I made: I killed you when I made them. I shut you down. You ain't gonna erase or deflate what I did, it's there for all to see and all I need do is backhand your hack magician worthy words, as I've just done, to counter it. There's enough evidence against you and Pryce workin' together to make this "All Ax3 Main Event" happen, were this an unlimited civil suit I'd be walkin' away with the judgment...just like I'll be walkin' outta High Stakes II with the Universal Title. You can't outsmart me, you can't trick me...all you can do is try and fail, fuckstick. Did I expect you to decline stackin' the deck against me when all can see I've been struggling with my new schedule and responsibilities? Yes, if you had joined Ax3 for the right reasons. But you didn't. That doesn't make me stupid, it makes you a scumbag. Period.

"And if you really expected me to, than you might be dumber Chris Chaos..."

Keep stumblin' over your words, you shakin', hairless lil chihuahua. And by the way, save YOUR assumptions on what I'd do if you won the title. I've lost enough loved ones in my life that I place value on others I care for and nothing trumps that. The Universal Title is the most important part of my life, but it doesn't mean I'd hate a friend for beating me out for it. At least...before it became apparent you were tryin' to trick and therefore humiliate me that would've been the case. You can't tell me what I would or wouldn't do. I'm not known for lying, I'm known for bein' genuine and unashamed of who I am, whether or not disloyal dildos like you refuse to live that way and don't understand the concept doesn't change it. It only makes you look worse. YOU would clearly not allow a friend to remain so were he to defeat you. It's plain as day. I'm glad you challenged me though, now I can drop Main's name as well. Best of friends since he added that first L to my tally. Who's got the flawed logic now, nimrod? Thaddeus...don't you ever get tired of bein' fulla shit?

Why does your relation to Theo matter? Yeah, that's what I thought, Thaddeus. Despite you tryin' to steal the thunder away from my concrete conclusions you STILL realize you have to address them. Flacidly I might add. It matters because it exhibits your character, your cowardice and your untrustworthy nature. It matters because if it didnt, it would've been you, the number one contender, I faced in my first defense, not BWP. It matters because Theo made the match for a royal reaming on a grand stage and "just for the helluvit" added you to the mix. It matters because The Kings are my enemies, they possess a much crueler outlook on extinguishing opponents and by "destroying me" with my own stable around me, against two traitorous twats, it goes a long way towards an attempt at assassinating my ambition and heart outright. It matters because Theo knows he could whip your ass a lot easier than my own for the Uni Title. Unfortunately, death itself couldn't keep me down, Duke. Losing all my loved ones couldn't do it. You, Chaos and The Kings...you can't do it either. If ANY of you had ever suffered as I'VE suffered and survived...you'd know better. It'll be a pleasure, as always, to prove my opposition wrong. NOW the matter is closed.

Hey Thaddeus, just because you're incapable of makin' spicy and creative threats and insults doesn't mean you acting tough despite them with laws and rules protecting you makes you sound tough. It makes you sound like a bitch who earns an asskicking then threatens to call the police if having to face it. And for the record, if I were to stab you around 50 times to the face or actually bite off your fingers I'd be doin' it in private where you'd discover you aren't as strong or capable as you thought. Any time you're willin' to test that theory you just go right ahead. I'll educate you on the last lesson of your life. What will really means.

Your whole argument about building up popularity for Duke Nation? Garbage. You don't entertain anyone, Thaddeus. You bore them. You mixed in with me is what gained you some modicum of attention...but only when you started competing with me. Get the point? I own you now. Like I own Chaos.

"Jim Caedus thinks one unarmed man is more dangerous than staring down loaded gun barrels, or having to use your jet as a fucking missile and ejecting, or your location being fired at with tanks and just war in general."

Lyin' sack o' shit. Again, trying to convince everyone of what YOU WANTED me to say, but didn't, so you could retort with that. Fucking pathetic. You're such a pussy, Duke. I said bein' in a war doesn't compare to bein' in the ring with me and it doesn't. Tell us all how war in all its horrific glory defines hand to hand combat in a ring with rules? Exactly, it doesn't, it didn't for BWP as it won't for you. You tried to claim my very clear response to your sayin' surviving a war means you can't be intimidated wasn't my own response disagreeing with you. And I'm correct. All anyone has to do is view your vignettes and they can see your normal studious and anal quality has been altered to a man who speaks and stutters, leavin' words outta statements because he's too nervous to catch it. Thaddeus, denial doesn't define truth. It's simply denial. And when you deny that which is apparent, it makes you a liar.

You claiming your spineless strategy of overwhelming Christine and I with watered down D plus material ISN'T compensating for the fact that YOU. CAN'T. TALK. TRASH. is sickening. Pathetic is as pathetic does, dickhead, and you're as desperately pathetic as they come. It's not apt for you to claim I've shown disinterest, it's more desperation. People know exactly what's been goin' on with me, including you...the fact you'd try to paint it this way in promo is the penultimate betrayal. If I didn't care, I wouldn't promo at all. I'd toss the title in the trash and walk away. I'm breakin' my ass to balance what I must now and I'm STILL fuckin' you up left and right with my words. The fuck is your excuse for havin' the time to phone it in as often as you have and STILL not bein' able to sound as good as I do? The answer:

Y
O
U

D
O
N
T

H
A
V
E

I
T

End of story.

It doesn't matter what you say. It doesn't matter what you believe. You don't have the accolades under your belt that I do because YOU are the one who doesn't put his best foot forward. In a match your uncle set up for you, with me UNABLE to promo as much I did for the Lottery, OF COURSE YOU'LL try harder. Stop acting as if everyone doesn't already know how you work, Thaddeus, it's embarrassing. Don't lecture me on my work ethic. The fact I have to deal with what I have to deal with and still reserve my time to hit you back so fuckin' hard is what makes a champion. Adapting. Persevering. That's not you. Thaddeus Duke is "Oh NOW you're gonna go full tilt". It only matters when you're consistent, cocksucker. You ain't.

Fuck Thaddeus Duke. Fuck his transparent lies and hype. I'm Jim Caedus. What I've been able to dish out may not be enough to utterly wipe you off the map, Thadly, but it's enough to accomplish what I've been accomplishing from the very beginning...victory. Doubt me? Check the motherfuckin' record books, bitch. I thrive on struggle. You cow to it."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX]]>

-Late 2002-


Dusty opens his eyes and blinks weirdly. I knee-jerk toss my knife into a patch of calla lilies without thinking then immediately kick myself for doing it.

I definitely don't get it when I walk over and grab Dusty by the arm, pulling him to his feet. He wobbles, falls back but I pull him forward again. He follows with the momentum and nearly drops forward this time onto his face before I catch him with my left arm and steady him.

I can't do this. This is crazy. I'll get caught. What the fuck am I thinking doing this here!?

"I have to go home," he slurs.

I'm not prepared for that. He takes a step back and his legs noodle, dropping him to his ass split-legged with his palms on the grass. I actually feel kinda sorry for 'im.

I knocked this motherfucker out. He's gonna call the cops for sure. I'm fucked.

"What happened?"

What? No way. What the fuck?

"Jimmy? When'd you got here?"

I'm fucked when he remembers. I have to do something.

"Dude, we're at my house. Remember? You took a big ass hit o' shit and you held it in and passed the fuck out," I lie. "Fuckin' numbskull," I add for effect.

"What? Help me, man."

I help him up.

"I don't feel good, I have to go home."

Get 'im the fuck outta here.

I lead him like an elderly man back out to the street. It takes a good 5 minutes or so of stop and go walking to get Dusty back to his '93 Honda Civic. It takes him too long to unlock the door and get in.

Then he sits there, staring out the windshield. I start losing my cool.

"Dusty you gotta go. Drive safe."

He frowns. Looks down at his lap. Looks to me...silently. Finally after several seconds:

"Hit me up later."

"Yeah ok."

I close his door and he slides his key into the ignition, starting the engine. I walk away. By the time I've reached my house he's still sitting there with the engine running. I move to walk back, stop, then take two steps before he reverses, turns left, and rolls away.

I take a look up and down the street before retreating into the house. I scamper-limp to the back door and out into the backyard. I snatch up first the pookie and bandanna then the knife.

I spot the dub baggy, still mostly full. I snatch that too.

Leave. You have to leave. You need an alibi.

As fast as I can, I'm back dash-hobbling through the house to the front room, barely pulling the bay window curtain aside to peek out in paranoia. No parents yet. Out the front doors I go, locking up in haste behind myself, nearly tripping as I cross the lawn, whipping open the door to the car and hopping back in.

"What took so long," Nicole asks, opening the front door as I limp up? "Trevor's gonna be home in an hour!"

She glances down at my swollen right hand.

"What _happened_!?"

Nicole turns and strides on those long Italian legs of hers into the kitchen. I hear the freezer open, the muted roar of the icebox, the rustling of cubes, the ripping of paper towel... The freezer slams closed and she returns, offering me the makeshift ice pack. She kisses my hand.

Before I take the pack, I pull the dub baggy from my left pocket and hold it out.

"Did you rob Dusty? Is that what happened?"

I hadn't _robbed_ him obviously, so the scoff and look of incredulity I react with is genuine.

"What? No." A laugh. I force it. I accept the ice pack as soon as she takes the dub. "I fuckin' laid 'im out though."

"Shut up," she blurts, "really??"

"He deserved it, Waffles. He stabbed me in the back over Heather. He deserves worse and he's fuckin' lucky I didn't do it. If anyone asks...I've been here with you the whole time. K?"

Nicole nods. She may not have ever accepted me as a serious relationship but she'd never betray me. Ever.

"Now all I need to do is pay back Sean Bankston."

"Sean _Bankston_!? You didn't hear?? He died last year, dude. Car accident."

My initial shock is almost immediately replaced by amusement. So Sean's already dead, eh? And I've knocked Dusty into amnesia. This feels...like a victory.

I don't need to actually kill for all situations, or any, of betrayal...all I have to do...is knock 'em out and everything else falls into place...

The two of us retire to the bedroom. And I...I am at ease.

END
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Lacerating a Liar"







-The Venetian, Las Vegas, Nevada-

-Sunday June 11 2017-


Having already prepped my phone for promo and running severely short on time the scene opens recording, still holed up in my hotel room following my less than ideal dealings pertaining to my medical marijuana grow and silent partnership with a mafia don demanding 100% of the profits for the next 12 harvests.

"Thaddeus Duke...I forgot how tiring it gets when the opponents you debate with find it in any way credible to argue for argument's sake. That is, in a nutshell, what's been happenin' since I uploaded my first furious flayin' and has continued with not only yourself but the fruitbasket you try so very hard to differentiate yourself from: Kristin Chaos. However, where Chaos will either ignore a nailin' out of recognition of futility or simply offer up a truly pathetic parry in response, you'll take my apt accusations and respond to them in a way they weren't presented. Now unless you're incapable of comprehension, and I don't believe that to be the case, that tells me, since this is now the second time you've done it, you truly do believe you're smarter than I am. Hell, you may actually believe you're smarter than ALL of us, otherwise it makes zero sense why you attempt to squirm your maggot ass under the radar with such obvious inaccuracies and deceit. At this point it becomes prudent to present what I specifically refer to. But first...

In your 8th symphony of semi-decent, after that very flattering introductory rundown o' moi, which, I must admit made me blush...you plowed forward into the territory o' treachery I've had you twerkin' to like the puppet master I am, startin' with "Aw, Shut the Fuck Up". You stated in no uncertain terms you believe everyone should be out for themselves in this business...and here we are right back where we started...when I accused you of joining Ax3 just to get close to the Uni title and you denied it. Lemme tell ya, the concept behind a stable is team, Thaddeus. Team. The fact you've shown you've no loyalty whatsoever to any team GIFTING you with membership, whether it be you fuckin' over Dolly or you aiding in makin' things difficult for myself and Ax3, the point remains. Do you see The Kings at each other's throats? What about Vinny, Jimmy and Johnny? I dare say, and I motherfuckin' guaranTEE it...even if the Universal Title were held by one member o' one o' those groups, they still wouldn't be experiencin' the amateur ass backstabbery and sophomoric slimy shenanigans displayed by you and Chrissy Chaos. It's all my fault for inviting either of you, as well. I take full responsibility in believin' a brotherhood could exist between children and men. Shit...with the exception of my bro Bobby, I truly DON'T know who to trust anymore among us. I don't know why I overlooked Graves and his blatant support of Cadryn in the halls at HQ that day when Main came under fire by The Essence o' Temporary Excellence Tiberius. That aside, revise your statement, Thaddeus. When it comes to those who can't crush, those who hate for no reason other than jealousy...THOSE people will always be out for themselves. That isn't me. I AM great at what I do, I don't NEED to play dirty. You can consider me a better person than you, Duke. I knowingly allowed you and Chaos into Ax3 with no motivation other than friendship. It wasn't because I thought I couldn't just come at you from the position of an enemy, it wasn't because I didn't think I couldn't defeat you, I can definitely beat the shit outta both o' you. The only thing that occurred here is a man mightier than the two o' you gave you both a shot at bein' better than you are and you failed. It's a credit to ME, not either of you, that it takes scheming to get to Jim Caedus. It proves just how dangerous I am...and it reveals how foolish you are thinkin' you could play mind games in your promo.

Here we arrive at what I was speakin' of prior. Jim Caedus never said you protest the Dolly incident too much. Jim Caedus said you protest the relation to Theo Pryce too much. And I know why you attempted so weakly to divert attention away from the points I made: I killed you when I made them. I shut you down. You ain't gonna erase or deflate what I did, it's there for all to see and all I need do is backhand your hack magician worthy words, as I've just done, to counter it. There's enough evidence against you and Pryce workin' together to make this "All Ax3 Main Event" happen, were this an unlimited civil suit I'd be walkin' away with the judgment...just like I'll be walkin' outta High Stakes II with the Universal Title. You can't outsmart me, you can't trick me...all you can do is try and fail, fuckstick. Did I expect you to decline stackin' the deck against me when all can see I've been struggling with my new schedule and responsibilities? Yes, if you had joined Ax3 for the right reasons. But you didn't. That doesn't make me stupid, it makes you a scumbag. Period.

"And if you really expected me to, than you might be dumber Chris Chaos..."

Keep stumblin' over your words, you shakin', hairless lil chihuahua. And by the way, save YOUR assumptions on what I'd do if you won the title. I've lost enough loved ones in my life that I place value on others I care for and nothing trumps that. The Universal Title is the most important part of my life, but it doesn't mean I'd hate a friend for beating me out for it. At least...before it became apparent you were tryin' to trick and therefore humiliate me that would've been the case. You can't tell me what I would or wouldn't do. I'm not known for lying, I'm known for bein' genuine and unashamed of who I am, whether or not disloyal dildos like you refuse to live that way and don't understand the concept doesn't change it. It only makes you look worse. YOU would clearly not allow a friend to remain so were he to defeat you. It's plain as day. I'm glad you challenged me though, now I can drop Main's name as well. Best of friends since he added that first L to my tally. Who's got the flawed logic now, nimrod? Thaddeus...don't you ever get tired of bein' fulla shit?

Why does your relation to Theo matter? Yeah, that's what I thought, Thaddeus. Despite you tryin' to steal the thunder away from my concrete conclusions you STILL realize you have to address them. Flacidly I might add. It matters because it exhibits your character, your cowardice and your untrustworthy nature. It matters because if it didnt, it would've been you, the number one contender, I faced in my first defense, not BWP. It matters because Theo made the match for a royal reaming on a grand stage and "just for the helluvit" added you to the mix. It matters because The Kings are my enemies, they possess a much crueler outlook on extinguishing opponents and by "destroying me" with my own stable around me, against two traitorous twats, it goes a long way towards an attempt at assassinating my ambition and heart outright. It matters because Theo knows he could whip your ass a lot easier than my own for the Uni Title. Unfortunately, death itself couldn't keep me down, Duke. Losing all my loved ones couldn't do it. You, Chaos and The Kings...you can't do it either. If ANY of you had ever suffered as I'VE suffered and survived...you'd know better. It'll be a pleasure, as always, to prove my opposition wrong. NOW the matter is closed.

Hey Thaddeus, just because you're incapable of makin' spicy and creative threats and insults doesn't mean you acting tough despite them with laws and rules protecting you makes you sound tough. It makes you sound like a bitch who earns an asskicking then threatens to call the police if having to face it. And for the record, if I were to stab you around 50 times to the face or actually bite off your fingers I'd be doin' it in private where you'd discover you aren't as strong or capable as you thought. Any time you're willin' to test that theory you just go right ahead. I'll educate you on the last lesson of your life. What will really means.

Your whole argument about building up popularity for Duke Nation? Garbage. You don't entertain anyone, Thaddeus. You bore them. You mixed in with me is what gained you some modicum of attention...but only when you started competing with me. Get the point? I own you now. Like I own Chaos.

"Jim Caedus thinks one unarmed man is more dangerous than staring down loaded gun barrels, or having to use your jet as a fucking missile and ejecting, or your location being fired at with tanks and just war in general."

Lyin' sack o' shit. Again, trying to convince everyone of what YOU WANTED me to say, but didn't, so you could retort with that. Fucking pathetic. You're such a pussy, Duke. I said bein' in a war doesn't compare to bein' in the ring with me and it doesn't. Tell us all how war in all its horrific glory defines hand to hand combat in a ring with rules? Exactly, it doesn't, it didn't for BWP as it won't for you. You tried to claim my very clear response to your sayin' surviving a war means you can't be intimidated wasn't my own response disagreeing with you. And I'm correct. All anyone has to do is view your vignettes and they can see your normal studious and anal quality has been altered to a man who speaks and stutters, leavin' words outta statements because he's too nervous to catch it. Thaddeus, denial doesn't define truth. It's simply denial. And when you deny that which is apparent, it makes you a liar.

You claiming your spineless strategy of overwhelming Christine and I with watered down D plus material ISN'T compensating for the fact that YOU. CAN'T. TALK. TRASH. is sickening. Pathetic is as pathetic does, dickhead, and you're as desperately pathetic as they come. It's not apt for you to claim I've shown disinterest, it's more desperation. People know exactly what's been goin' on with me, including you...the fact you'd try to paint it this way in promo is the penultimate betrayal. If I didn't care, I wouldn't promo at all. I'd toss the title in the trash and walk away. I'm breakin' my ass to balance what I must now and I'm STILL fuckin' you up left and right with my words. The fuck is your excuse for havin' the time to phone it in as often as you have and STILL not bein' able to sound as good as I do? The answer:

Y
O
U

D
O
N
T

H
A
V
E

I
T

End of story.

It doesn't matter what you say. It doesn't matter what you believe. You don't have the accolades under your belt that I do because YOU are the one who doesn't put his best foot forward. In a match your uncle set up for you, with me UNABLE to promo as much I did for the Lottery, OF COURSE YOU'LL try harder. Stop acting as if everyone doesn't already know how you work, Thaddeus, it's embarrassing. Don't lecture me on my work ethic. The fact I have to deal with what I have to deal with and still reserve my time to hit you back so fuckin' hard is what makes a champion. Adapting. Persevering. That's not you. Thaddeus Duke is "Oh NOW you're gonna go full tilt". It only matters when you're consistent, cocksucker. You ain't.

Fuck Thaddeus Duke. Fuck his transparent lies and hype. I'm Jim Caedus. What I've been able to dish out may not be enough to utterly wipe you off the map, Thadly, but it's enough to accomplish what I've been accomplishing from the very beginning...victory. Doubt me? Check the motherfuckin' record books, bitch. I thrive on struggle. You cow to it."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX]]> <![CDATA[Q&A]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28124 Sun, 11 Jun 2017 20:44:14 -0700 Thomas Nixon]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28124
The following are quotes from the Q&A session involving Thomas Nixon and several reporters.

On Phantom Panzer referring to Thomas Nixon as “fake” saying that he doesn’t respect any of his opponents

“I’ve come to realize that the men I’ve faced in the XWF don’t have a lot of bad to say about me. Jack Cain voiced his respect for me, and most other competitors at least prefaced their insults with the fact that I have a track record for success in this company.

But Phantom Panzer chose to paint his trash talk with the tone of an arrogant man that can’t tell the difference between Ax3 and Bx3. The kind that poke and prod at imaginary flaws that they invent through some Freudian hyper-analysis. Now, I’m aware that most of the other men here make their trade through mind games and sophistry. They don’t necessarily spend time preparing for their match; they try to get in your head. They try and find a mental weakness to exploit, and these wordsmiths are generally pretty successful. They sound very convincing.

That’s why I wanted to correct the record. Earlier this week, Phantom Panzer attacked me on a personal level, and if you aren’t paying close attention you could buy into his wacko conspiracy theory. Panzer is under the impression that I’m lying and I don’t respect my opponents. He believes that I’m a fake man playing the role of a nice guy.

Now, Panzer is partially right, but he’s significantly more wrong than right. I don’t respect my opponents, and if you have inherent respect for any other individual, I think you’re an idiot. Respect has to be earned. And that’s why I don’t make alliances with anybody that wants to act buddy buddy with me. I might shake a hand after a good fight, but I’m not patting all of my opponents on the back.

But I never tried to make my opponents believe that I respect them. I made the distinct statement that I respect their ability. I respect their talent. That means, I’m treating them as the threat that they are.

If you don’t respect the ability of your opponent, you end up like Anderson Silva. He famously danced around during a championship fight and got knocked the fuck out. All because he didn’t respect the ability of his opponent. And that’s a trap that my colleagues in the XWF fall into. They trash talk and downplay the ability of their opponent. Then they are shocked and dumbfounded when they are pushed to their physical limit to win a match.

But if you want to over analyze my rationale, feel free. If it makes you sleep at night, go ahead. The fact of the matter is, I’m not putting on some schtick. I’m the most candid man in the company. I’m not playing nice, I’m just too smart to go be so ignorant. I’m too smart to champion a flawed game plan.

If anyone is lying or being dishonest, it’s the men that act like they are the undisputed best wrestler in the company. The men that are busy going on adventures and blowing shit up when they could be preparing for the biggest opportunity of their careers. But no matter what I tell you, it doesn’t mean shit until I walk out as the winner. So Phantom Panzer, give it a shot, prove me wrong. Show me how your disrespect and shit talk elevates your game. I look forward to the challenge.”

On Thomas Nixon potentially sponsoring the television show ‘Lizard Lick Towing’

“Can you repeat that question so everyone can hear it?”

[Reporter repeats question about potentially sponsoring ‘Lizard Lick Towing’]

“This is why I want more than just a time limit draw at High Stakes. Even if a draw means that I hold onto this belt, but I want to make a statement. Because any of the other top champions in the XWF would not get this bullshit question. My crusade for rights and liberty isn’t a joke, and as funny as it seems to make a joke about lizards, it isn’t okay to liken lizard rights to a low rent reality TV show.

Because when people here ‘lizard people’, they shouldn’t think that it is some ludicrous conspiracy. It shouldn’t be a punch line to their jokes. I’ve watched people suffer at the hands of bigots, and I’ve watched people have to hide away their true character to fit into the world. That’s not right and that’s not fair.

But sooner or later, people will figure out that I’m fighting champion that talks more sense than bullshit. I’m reasonable and I’m the real deal. So keep your offensive jokes to yourself because anytime my competitors have made similar comments, I’ve made them eat their god damn words.”

On Jack Cain saying that Thomas Nixon has a target on his back

“Well, I think there is some truth in that statement. It would look a lot more meaningful if one of my opponents scored the win over me, the champion, as opposed to sneaking a win over one of my challengers. With that being said, I don’t think that the guys backstage see me as the man that they want to take out.

I mean look at the card, I’m in the opening scramble. I’m not a part of the marquee matches, and it seems like the XWF is trying to downplay the value of this beautiful belt. They want people tuning into Warfare to see the Hart Title defended. They want people watching for the big moments when the Universal Champion gets in the ring. They don’t want to share that treatment for the Television Championship even though it’s at the top of the card almost every week.

So, I don’t think I’m there yet. I don’t think I’ve become the man with a target on his back. But that’s why this match is so important and that’s why my title reign so far has been so important. I can survive five other men and walk out holding onto this gold, my biggest challenge to this point in my title reign. Then that will put more eyes on me.

Then people will be tuning in every week, but it won’t be for the guaranteed Television Championship. They’ll tune in because they want to know if tonight is the night that someone finally usurps Thomas Nixon. And that will elevate this belt above the Hart Championship and the X-Treme Championship. That’s the prophecy I want to fulfill, and then Cain’s words will ring true.”

On Thaddeus Duke’s meeting with John McCain regarding global affairs, while Senator McCain has not made a statement regarding the oppression of lizard people

“That’s really a question of Mr. McCain’s optics. He’s a politician and the political world hasn’t been fast to adopt lizard people rights as a main issue. It’s unfortunate that people with power and influence won’t discuss this topic and bring light to it on a larger basis, but I’m sure Senator McCain is aware of the issue.

Luckily, we live in a country where politics is downstream from culture. That means that if we drive this message home and voters join the revolution, some politicians will have to adopt this topic as part of their platform. And as each day goes by, our support grows more and more. Each time a new fan tunes into Savage, we find ourselves with another person that believes in lizard rights.

Once we have thousands and thousands of Americans joining the revolution, people like Senator McCain will have to listen to our demands. And then, I’ll expect Senator McCain to call me up and find time in his very busy schedule to sit across from me and talk about the real issues.”

On the multi man main event for a shot at the Universal Championship

“That match is an unbelievable opportunity. There’s going to be more than twenty guys fighting tooth and nail for a huge title shot. It’s going to be intense and the fans will see men pushed to their absolute limits. I’m ready to give that match all the energy I have.

With that being said, it isn’t my priority. I’m training with one intention on my mind, and that’s holding onto the Television Championship. After that, I’ll use what I have left in the tank to salvage a championship match. I think I’m one of the best wrestlers in this company, but it isn’t easy for any man to walk out as the winner of two different, huge multi man matches.

Now, there is a lot of time in between the opening match and the big main event. That’s a lot of time to recover and get into my pre match mindset.

Either way, it’s going to be an interesting match. During that main event, I’ll go face to face with a lot of men I haven’t encountered before. I would love to get in Robert Main’s face and we can find out who is the better champion. Then there’s Thaddeus Duke, and I haven’t stepped foot in the ring with him in over six months. There are a lot of match ups, I’m not going to name them all, and I’m ready to show that I have the stuff to get through as many capable opponents in one night as I can.”
]]>
The following are quotes from the Q&A session involving Thomas Nixon and several reporters.

On Phantom Panzer referring to Thomas Nixon as “fake” saying that he doesn’t respect any of his opponents

“I’ve come to realize that the men I’ve faced in the XWF don’t have a lot of bad to say about me. Jack Cain voiced his respect for me, and most other competitors at least prefaced their insults with the fact that I have a track record for success in this company.

But Phantom Panzer chose to paint his trash talk with the tone of an arrogant man that can’t tell the difference between Ax3 and Bx3. The kind that poke and prod at imaginary flaws that they invent through some Freudian hyper-analysis. Now, I’m aware that most of the other men here make their trade through mind games and sophistry. They don’t necessarily spend time preparing for their match; they try to get in your head. They try and find a mental weakness to exploit, and these wordsmiths are generally pretty successful. They sound very convincing.

That’s why I wanted to correct the record. Earlier this week, Phantom Panzer attacked me on a personal level, and if you aren’t paying close attention you could buy into his wacko conspiracy theory. Panzer is under the impression that I’m lying and I don’t respect my opponents. He believes that I’m a fake man playing the role of a nice guy.

Now, Panzer is partially right, but he’s significantly more wrong than right. I don’t respect my opponents, and if you have inherent respect for any other individual, I think you’re an idiot. Respect has to be earned. And that’s why I don’t make alliances with anybody that wants to act buddy buddy with me. I might shake a hand after a good fight, but I’m not patting all of my opponents on the back.

But I never tried to make my opponents believe that I respect them. I made the distinct statement that I respect their ability. I respect their talent. That means, I’m treating them as the threat that they are.

If you don’t respect the ability of your opponent, you end up like Anderson Silva. He famously danced around during a championship fight and got knocked the fuck out. All because he didn’t respect the ability of his opponent. And that’s a trap that my colleagues in the XWF fall into. They trash talk and downplay the ability of their opponent. Then they are shocked and dumbfounded when they are pushed to their physical limit to win a match.

But if you want to over analyze my rationale, feel free. If it makes you sleep at night, go ahead. The fact of the matter is, I’m not putting on some schtick. I’m the most candid man in the company. I’m not playing nice, I’m just too smart to go be so ignorant. I’m too smart to champion a flawed game plan.

If anyone is lying or being dishonest, it’s the men that act like they are the undisputed best wrestler in the company. The men that are busy going on adventures and blowing shit up when they could be preparing for the biggest opportunity of their careers. But no matter what I tell you, it doesn’t mean shit until I walk out as the winner. So Phantom Panzer, give it a shot, prove me wrong. Show me how your disrespect and shit talk elevates your game. I look forward to the challenge.”

On Thomas Nixon potentially sponsoring the television show ‘Lizard Lick Towing’

“Can you repeat that question so everyone can hear it?”

[Reporter repeats question about potentially sponsoring ‘Lizard Lick Towing’]

“This is why I want more than just a time limit draw at High Stakes. Even if a draw means that I hold onto this belt, but I want to make a statement. Because any of the other top champions in the XWF would not get this bullshit question. My crusade for rights and liberty isn’t a joke, and as funny as it seems to make a joke about lizards, it isn’t okay to liken lizard rights to a low rent reality TV show.

Because when people here ‘lizard people’, they shouldn’t think that it is some ludicrous conspiracy. It shouldn’t be a punch line to their jokes. I’ve watched people suffer at the hands of bigots, and I’ve watched people have to hide away their true character to fit into the world. That’s not right and that’s not fair.

But sooner or later, people will figure out that I’m fighting champion that talks more sense than bullshit. I’m reasonable and I’m the real deal. So keep your offensive jokes to yourself because anytime my competitors have made similar comments, I’ve made them eat their god damn words.”

On Jack Cain saying that Thomas Nixon has a target on his back

“Well, I think there is some truth in that statement. It would look a lot more meaningful if one of my opponents scored the win over me, the champion, as opposed to sneaking a win over one of my challengers. With that being said, I don’t think that the guys backstage see me as the man that they want to take out.

I mean look at the card, I’m in the opening scramble. I’m not a part of the marquee matches, and it seems like the XWF is trying to downplay the value of this beautiful belt. They want people tuning into Warfare to see the Hart Title defended. They want people watching for the big moments when the Universal Champion gets in the ring. They don’t want to share that treatment for the Television Championship even though it’s at the top of the card almost every week.

So, I don’t think I’m there yet. I don’t think I’ve become the man with a target on his back. But that’s why this match is so important and that’s why my title reign so far has been so important. I can survive five other men and walk out holding onto this gold, my biggest challenge to this point in my title reign. Then that will put more eyes on me.

Then people will be tuning in every week, but it won’t be for the guaranteed Television Championship. They’ll tune in because they want to know if tonight is the night that someone finally usurps Thomas Nixon. And that will elevate this belt above the Hart Championship and the X-Treme Championship. That’s the prophecy I want to fulfill, and then Cain’s words will ring true.”

On Thaddeus Duke’s meeting with John McCain regarding global affairs, while Senator McCain has not made a statement regarding the oppression of lizard people

“That’s really a question of Mr. McCain’s optics. He’s a politician and the political world hasn’t been fast to adopt lizard people rights as a main issue. It’s unfortunate that people with power and influence won’t discuss this topic and bring light to it on a larger basis, but I’m sure Senator McCain is aware of the issue.

Luckily, we live in a country where politics is downstream from culture. That means that if we drive this message home and voters join the revolution, some politicians will have to adopt this topic as part of their platform. And as each day goes by, our support grows more and more. Each time a new fan tunes into Savage, we find ourselves with another person that believes in lizard rights.

Once we have thousands and thousands of Americans joining the revolution, people like Senator McCain will have to listen to our demands. And then, I’ll expect Senator McCain to call me up and find time in his very busy schedule to sit across from me and talk about the real issues.”

On the multi man main event for a shot at the Universal Championship

“That match is an unbelievable opportunity. There’s going to be more than twenty guys fighting tooth and nail for a huge title shot. It’s going to be intense and the fans will see men pushed to their absolute limits. I’m ready to give that match all the energy I have.

With that being said, it isn’t my priority. I’m training with one intention on my mind, and that’s holding onto the Television Championship. After that, I’ll use what I have left in the tank to salvage a championship match. I think I’m one of the best wrestlers in this company, but it isn’t easy for any man to walk out as the winner of two different, huge multi man matches.

Now, there is a lot of time in between the opening match and the big main event. That’s a lot of time to recover and get into my pre match mindset.

Either way, it’s going to be an interesting match. During that main event, I’ll go face to face with a lot of men I haven’t encountered before. I would love to get in Robert Main’s face and we can find out who is the better champion. Then there’s Thaddeus Duke, and I haven’t stepped foot in the ring with him in over six months. There are a lot of match ups, I’m not going to name them all, and I’m ready to show that I have the stuff to get through as many capable opponents in one night as I can.”
]]> <![CDATA[Ignorance is Bliss]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28104 Sun, 11 Jun 2017 20:33:40 -0700 Doctor Louis D'Ville]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28104




                                                                                                                              





































































[Image: XyTjvsM.png]


[Image: Kd641BT.png]




CONTINUED FROM "Unfinished Business"

When we last left the good doctor and his patient, Trevor Dedntik, Doc had managed to steal a mystical golden watch from the clutches of the Master of Minds and use it to alter time back to around two years ago when he still had the UNIVERSAL Title. It was just a few short days prior to his successful title defense against "Loverboy" Vinnie Lane at the Bad Medicine pay-per-view. He had previously met with Mastermind at his mansion, requesting use of another one of his mystical objects, the well-renowned Chair of Mastermind. After being denied, the doctor, with a smile, left the premises willingly and once again stepped out of his life, which Mastermind surely wished, was forever. After increasing the security around the premises just a precaution, fearing the doctor would return to get what he desired regardless of Mastermind's approval, he had gathered them back up to explain what dire situation they were in. It did not take long for him to realize that the doctor had more up his sleeve than just asking for another favor. He was deceived once again and his precious gold pocket watch was gone. He told his men that they must track down the doctor, and by any means, retrieve the watch before he uses it for whatever it is he desires so much.

Doc was hasty though. Shortly after retrieving the watch, he and Trevor left the property and parked on the outskirts of the island. He wound the watch backwards and the watch served it's purpose well. They arrived two years prior to our current events, just five days prior to Doc's UNIVERSAL Title defense at Bad Medicine in June of 2015. Basically waking up in this time period, Trevor and Doc were doing their normal thing and traveling to the event in Dallas. Doc deciding to make a pit stop, however, in his old stomping ground in a town that was decimated by his presence alone.

The church was there, barely standing after the massacre that happened there while Doc used it as his compound for the Asylum. He reminisced for a while, admiring his previous work, and gave himself a tour of the old place. He was not one to waste much time, but when time itself was within the palm of his hand, why not? Well, unknowing to him, Mastermind had a back up plan already set up beyond dispatching his men to find the doc. A medallion he wore around his neck worked injunction with the watch and allowed him to follow Doc back in time. If his men were too late, which they were, he would have to handle this dangerous situation all on his own.

After Doc's quick stop at his former compound, Trevor and the good doctor left it behind once again and planned to continue their journey through time. His plans were still a bit in the dark to the ex-detective, but it's nothing different from any time before. Trevor was always just kind of along for the ride, as treacherous and painful that it was. Doc never actually revealed to Trevor his true purpose, but after everything that's happened, it's really no mystery to him. It brings a transparent, crooked smile to his face, knowing that the good doctor actually needs him.

Standing outside the church, Doc reaches inside his pocket and pulls out the gold pocket watch. He admires it in the light for a moment before opening it revealing the face of the clock. The hands aren't moving, as if they were frozen in time. Trevor admires the watch from a distance, as well, keeping his thoughts as shrouded in his mind as possible to not reveal his own plans to the doc.

Are we looking for something?

Doc smiles and faces his patient.

Indeed, we are, my friend. An opportunity to alter our present and fix the slight dilemma we've been placed in.

Slight dilemma? Which? The fact that I'm no longer a living being? Maybe all of those horrible, agonizing, painful deaths I've faced? Or something to do with that stupid piece of tin around your waist?

Doc chuckles to himself.

Well, you know, Trevor, all of those things are intertwined in a way. If it wasn't for your actions, I wouldn't have been tossed back to the realm of no return. If it wasn't for your incompetence, the man in black wouldn't have stopped us a second time and cost me my precious UNIVERSE.

Don't turn this around on me. I didn't choose to be your little pet, you chose ME. I would have been fine with rotting in hell for eternity than existing in this living hell. Are you making excuses to cover up what you can't handle yourself?

Doc's smile fades and he lowers his brow, squinting at the ex-detective with his one good eye.

You're starting to sound like Trax now, Trevor.

Who?!

Doc ignores Trevor and looks back down to the watch in his hand.

I know I usually have quite a bit to say. I've been told I can be quite the long winded mother fucker at times, but when you have fellows seemingly just picking at your words it just comes across as mere ignorance. I pay attention to what I say and I'm careful with the words I spew. I KNOW what I said about the Lethal Lottery Tournament, and to be honest, I still believe that I can beat Trax and Robbie Bourbon single-handedly. Just like how I KNEW that I could beat Chris Chaos. I didn't once, but then it all cycled back around and I pinned him in the middle of the ring. Donald Trump proved that miracles can happen anywhere. Sure, I got eliminated. My words, as spear headed as they were, didn't back up what happened. So, go ahead, mark it on the calendar, my friends. I was wrong. I've always owned up to my own mistakes and as few and spread out as they've come, I've corrected them. If Trax would like to continue feeding me back my own words, so be it, at High Stakes it's a completely different scenario.

What did you expect, anyway? For me to walk into that arena, sweat bullets, and drag my ass to the ring with no confidence? Are you dense? I mean, you ARE Mister F'n Confidence, but I am Doctor Louis D'Ville. I don't sweat bullets, I sweat greatness. I breathe confidence. I drink the weaknesses of my competition and eat their fear. Num nums. I presented myself in that match up like I have countless times before, and whether Trax would like to admit it or not, I had him on the ropes. I had him questioning his own abilities. I had him rethinking his "faith" in himself. Not like that victory actually meant anything that night. He squandered it by going into the final and losing to the current XWF UNIVERSAL Champion, Jim Caedus. I know he pinned the champ a few weeks ago, but if we're going to nit-pick at every fucking detail like he's been doing, might as well point out that it wasn't without a little outside help, right? Whoever that was that left Caedus on his back for Trax to cherry-pick definitely did him a favor.

Do you all think I'm taking Trax a bit too lightly? I'm not going to deny that he's one of the few in the upper echelon of talent around here. The doctor would be the ignorant one to deny something like that. He's had his big wins and titles, sure. He's seen me and even been in the same ring as me, so sure, he may have picked up on a few things along the way. There's a reason why everyone around here dances around the chance to face me, though. I've done things myself. I'm not stacking our accomplishments next to each other, either, it's simple to look at the scoreboard and see how the two of us compare to one and other. Is there a clear winner just looking at the statistics? Shit no. That's what makes this FINE federation undoubtedly great and so unpredictable. Anything can happen. Trax can waltz back into this place with a giant chip on his shoulder, puff his chest out, and carry himself like that thug that he is. During his previous stint here he claimed to have the world by the ass, but in reality, he simply used the tools provided to get where he was. I was guilty of the same thing, but I backed it up LONG after I did so. Trax did no such thing. He walked away after losing the title, refusing to renew a contract, and laid on his couch for however long until he heard that this beautiful place was thriving again. His mouth watered, his balls tingled, and he jumped to the occasion after peeling himself from the sofa to maybe make a true name for himself upon his return. Like I said, he's had the big matches, but I can only think of a single one that he got his hand raised at the end and actually walked away from without a limp. I've beaten plenty of UNIVERSAL Champions in my day, so yeah, he needs to get over himself. He can hold that one victory over me close to his heart for as long as it keeps beating for all I care, the fact of the matter is it'll mean nothing after this pay-per-view.

It will be another rerun for good old Trax, my friends. He will have the opportunities and the gold within his grasp to let it all flutter away like they never existed from the start. Not only will he fail at something that he's been begging for since he walked through the doors for the first time, but the battle royals that follow will result in the same. He says he has nothing to prove, BLAH. He has everything to prove here. His cockiness and confidence exceed a thousand times further than his actual talent and I'll be more than happy to shove him back down in his place. Where would that be, you ask? The keyword there was "down". If he wants treated like one of the "big dawgs" around here, he's going to have to do a little bit more than sneaky tactics backstage and intervening in business he has no part of. The KINGS™ had no beef with him before he decided to involve himself. Now, since he decided to take the side of the greater evil, lesser evil, the weaker side, the hodge-podge of assholes within AX3, yeah, you've placed a target on yourself. Again, what did you expect? Action without reaction? Chris Chaos acted the same way with his stupid backstage annoyances.. Jim Caedus doesn't know his head from his asshole. Michael Graves is preoccupied being FAR creepier than I could ever imagine to be and Robbie Main has no place further than that Hart Title he has a hold of right now. So yeah, is he really sure he's not a super hero? It looks like he's come to the rescue for the little guy on more than one occasion so if he expects me to keep up with all of this nonsense he should really consider his previous actions.

Regardless. Super powers or not. Good guy or not. Bad guy. Tweener. For the kids. Fuck the kids. Whatever Trax wants to believe and whatever label he wants to stamp on the good doctor, the inevitable is going to happen. I have a super power of my own, it's called "WINNING". He said himself that I'm back to my old dominating self again in the singles competition. Honestly, I never knew I left. I just took my interests to the Tag Team division for a bit, which I've also dominated. You have to agree that the division needed a little boost after all of the passer-by's that have gone through. Unknown Soldier and myself took the UNIVERSE by storm and once he had his fill of it, he was gone. Two briefcases in one hand, his cock in the other, he was never heard from again. The repeating, non-stop jabs about myself and the KINGS™ is getting ridiculously old and it doesn't hurt my feelings, or their's, when you claim one is using the other. Chaos claimed the KINGS™ were using ME for whatever reason. Since Theo's had half of the company in his pocket for quite some time now, it's hard to believe that I was the key that brought them back. I just gave them a reason to be, is all. For Trax to claim that the good doctor is using them isn't completely far fetched. I mean, you notice how I didn't ask ANYONE else available on the roster to step up and take half the gold? Damn, if I was allowed, I would've carried them myself. Unfortunately, the hammer came down and I was forced to seek partnership with SOMEONE. So I sought out my best, possible option. Trax should know where I'm coming from anyway. He's refused to even get involved with the tag division as of late unless he could get his old partner Extreme Machine back in the gig. So he must feel the same way about the surrounding talent around here as I do. Hasn't failed me yet has it? The belts are still intact and the good senator and I even have a title defense under us. I simply took good advantage of the many connections I've made throughout my time here and brought a force that can't be reckoned with. A few good men that have been engraved to forever be apart of XWF history. The words of John Madison said it best; he hasn't done a fucking thing in years... Yet, he's still considered one of the best damn talents that have ever graced and that's ever going to grace the squared circle. To straight up say I'm USING them though? Geez..... It pissed enough people off to just hand those few guys the other belt that made it more worth it than anything.

I wish I could say the same about Trax, though, about the singles competition and the dominance... I mean, that IS his name right? Domination doesn't mean coming within an arm's length of something and failing. It means COMPLETE control or influence over someone or something. He's hardly exercised dominance during his time here, the first time, OR this time. He's had the chance, but was never able to pull himself up and over that last ledge on the mountain. UNIVERSAL Title or not, until proving that you actually belong there, it doesn't mean a damn thing. Mister Loverboy took the title from me, yes, but after I proved complete dominance over him several times prior to our match at Relentless. Trax cashed-in and dirtied that title up for a bit until Loverboy came back and claimed what HE earned the hard way. I get it. It's obvious he's looking for some closure around here. Like he said, he didn't HAVE to come back, but he couldn't stand lying around while fellows like myself were still around kicking in faces. It hasn't quit. I'm not going to quit. After I flick that boulder from Trax's shoulder and bury his head in the canvas, I'm moving on and doing the same with anyone that crosses me in the short series of matches that are coming at the end of the night.

I think it's foolish that Trax's focus isn't spread throughout the night. I know the pressure is on in this match and this contest with me is probably everything that he's been working for through his entire career. I am unmatched in the ring and it takes a very, very special talent to even compare to my skills. I've been told that a victory over me holds the same value, if not higher value, as a UNIVERSAL Title win. It's flattering,really, but unfortunately, I don't have the same opportunity to beat a legend and repair my pride. When you're at the top looking down, there's hardly a damn thing that I can do to increase my status. At the end of the night, an entire roster is going to be competing, thriving, and striving to be the last man standing on their side when it's all said and done. I wish I could imagine that sinking feeling in the guts of the fellow standing in the other ring when he looks over and sees me standing there waiting for them. With their fate already sealed, they'll meet me in the center and accept it like a dose of bad medicine. With everyone stepping up to the occasion, they need to know that that the story of Doctor Louis D'Ville is far from over. With everyone dangling from the ledge, using all of their strength to maintain their grip, not a single person is safe from the fall after I stomp out their finger tips and send them down, down, down down. This is MY UNIVERSE, my friends, and I'm back to claim it.

Doc stares the watch twirl around from the gold chain and shimmers in the sunlight of the same color. Just as he's about to begin winding the watch again, the sound of propellers breaks his intent and he directs his attention beyond the church towards the sea.

What the fuck is that?

Doc's reaction is a split between shock and shrug, as he knew that there was a possibility that he would be getting some company eventually.

It looks like we're going to have a showdown, my dear Trevor.

A helicopter rises up from the cliff and hovers around Doc's former compound. Within a few seconds a missile shoots from the side of it and fires straight into the building. It explodes and flames shoot up and around the steeple causing it to crumble within itself. Doc and Trevor are sent flying through the air from the blast. Trevor quickly scurries away and hides under the vehicle, while Doc calmly finds his feet and stands up.

The helicopter hovers around to the front and faces him. He stares up, still gripping the watch tightly in his fist, and sees the man that he had taken it from staring down from the cockpit. The chopper turns to it's side and a gunner from the side opens fire on the doc. Dust kicks up in a trail around his feet, yet he doesn't move a muscle and remains standing tall as the many bullets just barely miss him. He holds the watch up in the air, teasing the Master of Minds with it. Instead of finishing what he started and winding up the watch, he throws it back into his pocket and yells up to his enemy.

If you want it! Come and get it!

Doc laughs as he turns and, with unbelievable speed, sprints away from his attackers. The chopper follows closely behind, changing it's angle when possible to try and get a shot at the good doctor. The bullets trickle behind him as his steps match the speed of the shots in a blur. He runs down the road as the chopper swings around trying to cut him off from the cliff side. It lowers it's elevation to level itself with the road as Doc takes an unexpected turn towards it. He leaps from the cliff and, like Air Jordan, he soars across and lands in the back of it after drop kicking the gunner in the head sending him out the other side. The man lets out a blood curdling scream as he free falls into the blue sea below them. Mastermind immediately flies out of his seat and spears the doctor into the back of the chopper. He lands a few punches to Doc's face before one is blocked and he's spun around. Doc lands a few punches of his own before getting off of Mastermind and stepping away. The pilot manages to keep his concentration and brings the helicopter back up and high over the highway below. Mastermind grabs the helmet that flew off his deceased soldiers head when Doc sent him soaring out of the aircraft. He whips the heavy head armor at the doctor who dodges it and it smacks off the windshield in the front cracking it. The pilot loses control a bit from the scare and the chopper weeble-wobbles back and forth causing both men in the back to lose their balance all fall down.

Doc is the first to his feet. He grabs the pilot from the back of his collar and, with an incredible show of strength, pulls him from his seat and snaps the seat belt restraining him like nothing. Doc whips the man like a rag doll and throws him across the back at the Master of Minds. The soldier collides with him just as he reaches his feet and sends him back down again. Doc holds onto a bar hanging from the roof as the chopper whips around in the air out of control. Mastermind pushes the now unconscious pilot off of him as the helicopter is helter skelter in mid air and soaring down to the ground.

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CONTINUED FROM "Unfinished Business"

When we last left the good doctor and his patient, Trevor Dedntik, Doc had managed to steal a mystical golden watch from the clutches of the Master of Minds and use it to alter time back to around two years ago when he still had the UNIVERSAL Title. It was just a few short days prior to his successful title defense against "Loverboy" Vinnie Lane at the Bad Medicine pay-per-view. He had previously met with Mastermind at his mansion, requesting use of another one of his mystical objects, the well-renowned Chair of Mastermind. After being denied, the doctor, with a smile, left the premises willingly and once again stepped out of his life, which Mastermind surely wished, was forever. After increasing the security around the premises just a precaution, fearing the doctor would return to get what he desired regardless of Mastermind's approval, he had gathered them back up to explain what dire situation they were in. It did not take long for him to realize that the doctor had more up his sleeve than just asking for another favor. He was deceived once again and his precious gold pocket watch was gone. He told his men that they must track down the doctor, and by any means, retrieve the watch before he uses it for whatever it is he desires so much.

Doc was hasty though. Shortly after retrieving the watch, he and Trevor left the property and parked on the outskirts of the island. He wound the watch backwards and the watch served it's purpose well. They arrived two years prior to our current events, just five days prior to Doc's UNIVERSAL Title defense at Bad Medicine in June of 2015. Basically waking up in this time period, Trevor and Doc were doing their normal thing and traveling to the event in Dallas. Doc deciding to make a pit stop, however, in his old stomping ground in a town that was decimated by his presence alone.

The church was there, barely standing after the massacre that happened there while Doc used it as his compound for the Asylum. He reminisced for a while, admiring his previous work, and gave himself a tour of the old place. He was not one to waste much time, but when time itself was within the palm of his hand, why not? Well, unknowing to him, Mastermind had a back up plan already set up beyond dispatching his men to find the doc. A medallion he wore around his neck worked injunction with the watch and allowed him to follow Doc back in time. If his men were too late, which they were, he would have to handle this dangerous situation all on his own.

After Doc's quick stop at his former compound, Trevor and the good doctor left it behind once again and planned to continue their journey through time. His plans were still a bit in the dark to the ex-detective, but it's nothing different from any time before. Trevor was always just kind of along for the ride, as treacherous and painful that it was. Doc never actually revealed to Trevor his true purpose, but after everything that's happened, it's really no mystery to him. It brings a transparent, crooked smile to his face, knowing that the good doctor actually needs him.

Standing outside the church, Doc reaches inside his pocket and pulls out the gold pocket watch. He admires it in the light for a moment before opening it revealing the face of the clock. The hands aren't moving, as if they were frozen in time. Trevor admires the watch from a distance, as well, keeping his thoughts as shrouded in his mind as possible to not reveal his own plans to the doc.

Are we looking for something?

Doc smiles and faces his patient.

Indeed, we are, my friend. An opportunity to alter our present and fix the slight dilemma we've been placed in.

Slight dilemma? Which? The fact that I'm no longer a living being? Maybe all of those horrible, agonizing, painful deaths I've faced? Or something to do with that stupid piece of tin around your waist?

Doc chuckles to himself.

Well, you know, Trevor, all of those things are intertwined in a way. If it wasn't for your actions, I wouldn't have been tossed back to the realm of no return. If it wasn't for your incompetence, the man in black wouldn't have stopped us a second time and cost me my precious UNIVERSE.

Don't turn this around on me. I didn't choose to be your little pet, you chose ME. I would have been fine with rotting in hell for eternity than existing in this living hell. Are you making excuses to cover up what you can't handle yourself?

Doc's smile fades and he lowers his brow, squinting at the ex-detective with his one good eye.

You're starting to sound like Trax now, Trevor.

Who?!

Doc ignores Trevor and looks back down to the watch in his hand.

I know I usually have quite a bit to say. I've been told I can be quite the long winded mother fucker at times, but when you have fellows seemingly just picking at your words it just comes across as mere ignorance. I pay attention to what I say and I'm careful with the words I spew. I KNOW what I said about the Lethal Lottery Tournament, and to be honest, I still believe that I can beat Trax and Robbie Bourbon single-handedly. Just like how I KNEW that I could beat Chris Chaos. I didn't once, but then it all cycled back around and I pinned him in the middle of the ring. Donald Trump proved that miracles can happen anywhere. Sure, I got eliminated. My words, as spear headed as they were, didn't back up what happened. So, go ahead, mark it on the calendar, my friends. I was wrong. I've always owned up to my own mistakes and as few and spread out as they've come, I've corrected them. If Trax would like to continue feeding me back my own words, so be it, at High Stakes it's a completely different scenario.

What did you expect, anyway? For me to walk into that arena, sweat bullets, and drag my ass to the ring with no confidence? Are you dense? I mean, you ARE Mister F'n Confidence, but I am Doctor Louis D'Ville. I don't sweat bullets, I sweat greatness. I breathe confidence. I drink the weaknesses of my competition and eat their fear. Num nums. I presented myself in that match up like I have countless times before, and whether Trax would like to admit it or not, I had him on the ropes. I had him questioning his own abilities. I had him rethinking his "faith" in himself. Not like that victory actually meant anything that night. He squandered it by going into the final and losing to the current XWF UNIVERSAL Champion, Jim Caedus. I know he pinned the champ a few weeks ago, but if we're going to nit-pick at every fucking detail like he's been doing, might as well point out that it wasn't without a little outside help, right? Whoever that was that left Caedus on his back for Trax to cherry-pick definitely did him a favor.

Do you all think I'm taking Trax a bit too lightly? I'm not going to deny that he's one of the few in the upper echelon of talent around here. The doctor would be the ignorant one to deny something like that. He's had his big wins and titles, sure. He's seen me and even been in the same ring as me, so sure, he may have picked up on a few things along the way. There's a reason why everyone around here dances around the chance to face me, though. I've done things myself. I'm not stacking our accomplishments next to each other, either, it's simple to look at the scoreboard and see how the two of us compare to one and other. Is there a clear winner just looking at the statistics? Shit no. That's what makes this FINE federation undoubtedly great and so unpredictable. Anything can happen. Trax can waltz back into this place with a giant chip on his shoulder, puff his chest out, and carry himself like that thug that he is. During his previous stint here he claimed to have the world by the ass, but in reality, he simply used the tools provided to get where he was. I was guilty of the same thing, but I backed it up LONG after I did so. Trax did no such thing. He walked away after losing the title, refusing to renew a contract, and laid on his couch for however long until he heard that this beautiful place was thriving again. His mouth watered, his balls tingled, and he jumped to the occasion after peeling himself from the sofa to maybe make a true name for himself upon his return. Like I said, he's had the big matches, but I can only think of a single one that he got his hand raised at the end and actually walked away from without a limp. I've beaten plenty of UNIVERSAL Champions in my day, so yeah, he needs to get over himself. He can hold that one victory over me close to his heart for as long as it keeps beating for all I care, the fact of the matter is it'll mean nothing after this pay-per-view.

It will be another rerun for good old Trax, my friends. He will have the opportunities and the gold within his grasp to let it all flutter away like they never existed from the start. Not only will he fail at something that he's been begging for since he walked through the doors for the first time, but the battle royals that follow will result in the same. He says he has nothing to prove, BLAH. He has everything to prove here. His cockiness and confidence exceed a thousand times further than his actual talent and I'll be more than happy to shove him back down in his place. Where would that be, you ask? The keyword there was "down". If he wants treated like one of the "big dawgs" around here, he's going to have to do a little bit more than sneaky tactics backstage and intervening in business he has no part of. The KINGS™ had no beef with him before he decided to involve himself. Now, since he decided to take the side of the greater evil, lesser evil, the weaker side, the hodge-podge of assholes within AX3, yeah, you've placed a target on yourself. Again, what did you expect? Action without reaction? Chris Chaos acted the same way with his stupid backstage annoyances.. Jim Caedus doesn't know his head from his asshole. Michael Graves is preoccupied being FAR creepier than I could ever imagine to be and Robbie Main has no place further than that Hart Title he has a hold of right now. So yeah, is he really sure he's not a super hero? It looks like he's come to the rescue for the little guy on more than one occasion so if he expects me to keep up with all of this nonsense he should really consider his previous actions.

Regardless. Super powers or not. Good guy or not. Bad guy. Tweener. For the kids. Fuck the kids. Whatever Trax wants to believe and whatever label he wants to stamp on the good doctor, the inevitable is going to happen. I have a super power of my own, it's called "WINNING". He said himself that I'm back to my old dominating self again in the singles competition. Honestly, I never knew I left. I just took my interests to the Tag Team division for a bit, which I've also dominated. You have to agree that the division needed a little boost after all of the passer-by's that have gone through. Unknown Soldier and myself took the UNIVERSE by storm and once he had his fill of it, he was gone. Two briefcases in one hand, his cock in the other, he was never heard from again. The repeating, non-stop jabs about myself and the KINGS™ is getting ridiculously old and it doesn't hurt my feelings, or their's, when you claim one is using the other. Chaos claimed the KINGS™ were using ME for whatever reason. Since Theo's had half of the company in his pocket for quite some time now, it's hard to believe that I was the key that brought them back. I just gave them a reason to be, is all. For Trax to claim that the good doctor is using them isn't completely far fetched. I mean, you notice how I didn't ask ANYONE else available on the roster to step up and take half the gold? Damn, if I was allowed, I would've carried them myself. Unfortunately, the hammer came down and I was forced to seek partnership with SOMEONE. So I sought out my best, possible option. Trax should know where I'm coming from anyway. He's refused to even get involved with the tag division as of late unless he could get his old partner Extreme Machine back in the gig. So he must feel the same way about the surrounding talent around here as I do. Hasn't failed me yet has it? The belts are still intact and the good senator and I even have a title defense under us. I simply took good advantage of the many connections I've made throughout my time here and brought a force that can't be reckoned with. A few good men that have been engraved to forever be apart of XWF history. The words of John Madison said it best; he hasn't done a fucking thing in years... Yet, he's still considered one of the best damn talents that have ever graced and that's ever going to grace the squared circle. To straight up say I'm USING them though? Geez..... It pissed enough people off to just hand those few guys the other belt that made it more worth it than anything.

I wish I could say the same about Trax, though, about the singles competition and the dominance... I mean, that IS his name right? Domination doesn't mean coming within an arm's length of something and failing. It means COMPLETE control or influence over someone or something. He's hardly exercised dominance during his time here, the first time, OR this time. He's had the chance, but was never able to pull himself up and over that last ledge on the mountain. UNIVERSAL Title or not, until proving that you actually belong there, it doesn't mean a damn thing. Mister Loverboy took the title from me, yes, but after I proved complete dominance over him several times prior to our match at Relentless. Trax cashed-in and dirtied that title up for a bit until Loverboy came back and claimed what HE earned the hard way. I get it. It's obvious he's looking for some closure around here. Like he said, he didn't HAVE to come back, but he couldn't stand lying around while fellows like myself were still around kicking in faces. It hasn't quit. I'm not going to quit. After I flick that boulder from Trax's shoulder and bury his head in the canvas, I'm moving on and doing the same with anyone that crosses me in the short series of matches that are coming at the end of the night.

I think it's foolish that Trax's focus isn't spread throughout the night. I know the pressure is on in this match and this contest with me is probably everything that he's been working for through his entire career. I am unmatched in the ring and it takes a very, very special talent to even compare to my skills. I've been told that a victory over me holds the same value, if not higher value, as a UNIVERSAL Title win. It's flattering,really, but unfortunately, I don't have the same opportunity to beat a legend and repair my pride. When you're at the top looking down, there's hardly a damn thing that I can do to increase my status. At the end of the night, an entire roster is going to be competing, thriving, and striving to be the last man standing on their side when it's all said and done. I wish I could imagine that sinking feeling in the guts of the fellow standing in the other ring when he looks over and sees me standing there waiting for them. With their fate already sealed, they'll meet me in the center and accept it like a dose of bad medicine. With everyone stepping up to the occasion, they need to know that that the story of Doctor Louis D'Ville is far from over. With everyone dangling from the ledge, using all of their strength to maintain their grip, not a single person is safe from the fall after I stomp out their finger tips and send them down, down, down down. This is MY UNIVERSE, my friends, and I'm back to claim it.

Doc stares the watch twirl around from the gold chain and shimmers in the sunlight of the same color. Just as he's about to begin winding the watch again, the sound of propellers breaks his intent and he directs his attention beyond the church towards the sea.

What the fuck is that?

Doc's reaction is a split between shock and shrug, as he knew that there was a possibility that he would be getting some company eventually.

It looks like we're going to have a showdown, my dear Trevor.

A helicopter rises up from the cliff and hovers around Doc's former compound. Within a few seconds a missile shoots from the side of it and fires straight into the building. It explodes and flames shoot up and around the steeple causing it to crumble within itself. Doc and Trevor are sent flying through the air from the blast. Trevor quickly scurries away and hides under the vehicle, while Doc calmly finds his feet and stands up.

The helicopter hovers around to the front and faces him. He stares up, still gripping the watch tightly in his fist, and sees the man that he had taken it from staring down from the cockpit. The chopper turns to it's side and a gunner from the side opens fire on the doc. Dust kicks up in a trail around his feet, yet he doesn't move a muscle and remains standing tall as the many bullets just barely miss him. He holds the watch up in the air, teasing the Master of Minds with it. Instead of finishing what he started and winding up the watch, he throws it back into his pocket and yells up to his enemy.

If you want it! Come and get it!

Doc laughs as he turns and, with unbelievable speed, sprints away from his attackers. The chopper follows closely behind, changing it's angle when possible to try and get a shot at the good doctor. The bullets trickle behind him as his steps match the speed of the shots in a blur. He runs down the road as the chopper swings around trying to cut him off from the cliff side. It lowers it's elevation to level itself with the road as Doc takes an unexpected turn towards it. He leaps from the cliff and, like Air Jordan, he soars across and lands in the back of it after drop kicking the gunner in the head sending him out the other side. The man lets out a blood curdling scream as he free falls into the blue sea below them. Mastermind immediately flies out of his seat and spears the doctor into the back of the chopper. He lands a few punches to Doc's face before one is blocked and he's spun around. Doc lands a few punches of his own before getting off of Mastermind and stepping away. The pilot manages to keep his concentration and brings the helicopter back up and high over the highway below. Mastermind grabs the helmet that flew off his deceased soldiers head when Doc sent him soaring out of the aircraft. He whips the heavy head armor at the doctor who dodges it and it smacks off the windshield in the front cracking it. The pilot loses control a bit from the scare and the chopper weeble-wobbles back and forth causing both men in the back to lose their balance all fall down.

Doc is the first to his feet. He grabs the pilot from the back of his collar and, with an incredible show of strength, pulls him from his seat and snaps the seat belt restraining him like nothing. Doc whips the man like a rag doll and throws him across the back at the Master of Minds. The soldier collides with him just as he reaches his feet and sends him back down again. Doc holds onto a bar hanging from the roof as the chopper whips around in the air out of control. Mastermind pushes the now unconscious pilot off of him as the helicopter is helter skelter in mid air and soaring down to the ground.

]]> <![CDATA[My First Interview]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28123 Sun, 11 Jun 2017 19:38:06 -0700 Chasm]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28123 My match at Savage has just finished and like I told everyone that doubted me I was able to pick up my first win in my first match in 5 years. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t nervous before the match started but as soon as that bell rang, it was like riding a bike and felt like I had never left.

Was it a great match? Not even close but then again it went a hell of a lot better than I expected saying I was up against a man that was old enough to be my father and a kid that was crazy green and really wasn’t even close to be ready for the big time of XWF and well me I was a little sluggish and not as crisp as I could have been but as least I didn’t botch do much and it seem that I was able to showcase that Chasm is back.

The scene opens to me walking into back and you can tell from the sweat glistening off my bald head that I was dead tired and just wanted to get to the dressing room to shower and call it an early night. Just as I reached my dressing room and was reaching for the handle I heard this voice behind me calling my name.

Chasm…Chasm…… Can I please have a moment of your time?

So fucking close, I lower my head and mutter under my breath

Fuck………

I didn’t even have to turn around to know that the annoying voice calling my name was none other than XWF Reporter and downright piece of shit Steve Sayors. I could hear his footstep getting closer and with ever step I just wanted to run as I really was in no mood to talk with anyone tonight. I slowly turn around and surpise surpise I was fucking right, now just a few feet away from me was Steve Sayors with his oh so loyal camera man staring right at me waiting for an answer, which sadly we both knew was going to be yes as with Steve he doesn’t really take no for an answer and will annoying you nonstop until he gets his way.

What the fuck do you want Steve?

I ask even though I already know the answer, and within seconds Steve answers without even skipping a beat.

I was wondering if I could maybe get a moment of your time to talk about you first match back and the PPV and your match against Barney Green?

I once again lower my head but I could still feel Steve’s stares burning a hole to my soul, I slowly look up

Can’t this wait till tomorrow?

Come on Chaz it will only take a few minutes I promise.

I have heard that before but I knew that if I wanted him to leave and let me be that I would have to agree.

Fine, but you got only 5 minutes

I open the door to the dressing room and flop myself hard onto a chair that was sitting in the corner of the room, I reach into the bag sitting next to the chair and pull out a pack of cigarettes and light one. Steve looks at me with a shocked looked on his face, as we both know that smoking in the dressing rooms were against the rules but really I didn’t care as I was tired and since I could shower and leave I did what I wanted.

I don’t think you are allowed to smoke in here

There we go Steve Sayors once again stating the obvious, I give him this cold stare as I yell

Fuck you Steve, really if I want a fucking smoke I am going to have a smoke, so if you are going to run off to management and rat me out then be my fucking guest, at least then I will know an easy way to get rid of you that doesn’t involve listening to your voice.

You can see that my raising my voice has caused him to back off abit about getting on my case

Fine I will let it slide this time so let’s get this underway shall we?

I nod in agreement

Ok first question, tonight you made your return to the XWF after several years of retirement, how did it feel to be back in an XWF ring?

Well going into the match I was a little nervous that I was not prepared enough but once the bell rang all those nerves quickly disappeared and it felt like the good old days.

How does it feel to know that you won your warm up match leading to your match against Barney Green at High Stakes II?

Oh my god I forgot how boring Steve could be but I figured I better answer his questions quickly so that he will leave me alone at least for a few days.

I knew those two had no chance in hell at beating me as soon as the match started and surprise I was correct and I was able to defeat then without even really breaking a sweat.

So does that mean you feel like after this match you are ready for Barney Green?

I knew that if I wasn’t able to beat Obsidian Air and Templar that my chances against Barney Green were going to be slim as he was going to be a whole different experience, neither of them really pushed me to my limit like Green is going to so I wouldn’t say I am 100% ready but I do have a week or so to prepare myself both mentally and physically and once High Stakes gets here I am going to be more than ready to fight Barney Green.

Why Barney Green?

I look at Steve with the smirk on my face as if I was waiting for this question to come up.

Now that’s the question I was waiting for. As you know Steve me and Barney are a few of the remaining old school XWF wrestlers still around and in the past we have had a fair share of differences, we have gone from friends to enemies back to friends more than a few times but I had always knew I was better than him but truth be told the last few times we were in this company together some jealousy started to form you see Barney Green was able to do something that I was never able to do.

You can see rage starting to form in my face as I speak

And that was win a top rank title in the XWF, knowing that Barney was able to win the XWF World title something that I have tried and failed more than few times started to eat away at me. Sure he won the title at a time when the XWF roster was at its weakest but that doesn’t matter as now he is now in the record book as a 1x World Champ and that right there makes him better than me. No matter how many more titles I might have won or how many more reigns I had he was able to do something I couldn’t.

So this is all over something that happened over 6 years ago?

I tried to forget it and be proud of everything I had done in the XWF but no matter what I did it still ate away at me and now I have had enough I knew if I wanted to be proud of what I have done I needed to beat Barney Green one more time and this time I have to make sure that it is within an inch of his life.

Ok well I think that is more than enough for now and I will leave it at that.

As Steve Sayors leaves the room and I am finally alone, I sit in the chair for a few seconds before getting up and heading to the bathroom.

The scene fades to the bathroom door closing and the sound of the shower being turned on.
]]> My match at Savage has just finished and like I told everyone that doubted me I was able to pick up my first win in my first match in 5 years. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t nervous before the match started but as soon as that bell rang, it was like riding a bike and felt like I had never left.

Was it a great match? Not even close but then again it went a hell of a lot better than I expected saying I was up against a man that was old enough to be my father and a kid that was crazy green and really wasn’t even close to be ready for the big time of XWF and well me I was a little sluggish and not as crisp as I could have been but as least I didn’t botch do much and it seem that I was able to showcase that Chasm is back.

The scene opens to me walking into back and you can tell from the sweat glistening off my bald head that I was dead tired and just wanted to get to the dressing room to shower and call it an early night. Just as I reached my dressing room and was reaching for the handle I heard this voice behind me calling my name.

Chasm…Chasm…… Can I please have a moment of your time?

So fucking close, I lower my head and mutter under my breath

Fuck………

I didn’t even have to turn around to know that the annoying voice calling my name was none other than XWF Reporter and downright piece of shit Steve Sayors. I could hear his footstep getting closer and with ever step I just wanted to run as I really was in no mood to talk with anyone tonight. I slowly turn around and surpise surpise I was fucking right, now just a few feet away from me was Steve Sayors with his oh so loyal camera man staring right at me waiting for an answer, which sadly we both knew was going to be yes as with Steve he doesn’t really take no for an answer and will annoying you nonstop until he gets his way.

What the fuck do you want Steve?

I ask even though I already know the answer, and within seconds Steve answers without even skipping a beat.

I was wondering if I could maybe get a moment of your time to talk about you first match back and the PPV and your match against Barney Green?

I once again lower my head but I could still feel Steve’s stares burning a hole to my soul, I slowly look up

Can’t this wait till tomorrow?

Come on Chaz it will only take a few minutes I promise.

I have heard that before but I knew that if I wanted him to leave and let me be that I would have to agree.

Fine, but you got only 5 minutes

I open the door to the dressing room and flop myself hard onto a chair that was sitting in the corner of the room, I reach into the bag sitting next to the chair and pull out a pack of cigarettes and light one. Steve looks at me with a shocked looked on his face, as we both know that smoking in the dressing rooms were against the rules but really I didn’t care as I was tired and since I could shower and leave I did what I wanted.

I don’t think you are allowed to smoke in here

There we go Steve Sayors once again stating the obvious, I give him this cold stare as I yell

Fuck you Steve, really if I want a fucking smoke I am going to have a smoke, so if you are going to run off to management and rat me out then be my fucking guest, at least then I will know an easy way to get rid of you that doesn’t involve listening to your voice.

You can see that my raising my voice has caused him to back off abit about getting on my case

Fine I will let it slide this time so let’s get this underway shall we?

I nod in agreement

Ok first question, tonight you made your return to the XWF after several years of retirement, how did it feel to be back in an XWF ring?

Well going into the match I was a little nervous that I was not prepared enough but once the bell rang all those nerves quickly disappeared and it felt like the good old days.

How does it feel to know that you won your warm up match leading to your match against Barney Green at High Stakes II?

Oh my god I forgot how boring Steve could be but I figured I better answer his questions quickly so that he will leave me alone at least for a few days.

I knew those two had no chance in hell at beating me as soon as the match started and surprise I was correct and I was able to defeat then without even really breaking a sweat.

So does that mean you feel like after this match you are ready for Barney Green?

I knew that if I wasn’t able to beat Obsidian Air and Templar that my chances against Barney Green were going to be slim as he was going to be a whole different experience, neither of them really pushed me to my limit like Green is going to so I wouldn’t say I am 100% ready but I do have a week or so to prepare myself both mentally and physically and once High Stakes gets here I am going to be more than ready to fight Barney Green.

Why Barney Green?

I look at Steve with the smirk on my face as if I was waiting for this question to come up.

Now that’s the question I was waiting for. As you know Steve me and Barney are a few of the remaining old school XWF wrestlers still around and in the past we have had a fair share of differences, we have gone from friends to enemies back to friends more than a few times but I had always knew I was better than him but truth be told the last few times we were in this company together some jealousy started to form you see Barney Green was able to do something that I was never able to do.

You can see rage starting to form in my face as I speak

And that was win a top rank title in the XWF, knowing that Barney was able to win the XWF World title something that I have tried and failed more than few times started to eat away at me. Sure he won the title at a time when the XWF roster was at its weakest but that doesn’t matter as now he is now in the record book as a 1x World Champ and that right there makes him better than me. No matter how many more titles I might have won or how many more reigns I had he was able to do something I couldn’t.

So this is all over something that happened over 6 years ago?

I tried to forget it and be proud of everything I had done in the XWF but no matter what I did it still ate away at me and now I have had enough I knew if I wanted to be proud of what I have done I needed to beat Barney Green one more time and this time I have to make sure that it is within an inch of his life.

Ok well I think that is more than enough for now and I will leave it at that.

As Steve Sayors leaves the room and I am finally alone, I sit in the chair for a few seconds before getting up and heading to the bathroom.

The scene fades to the bathroom door closing and the sound of the shower being turned on.
]]> <![CDATA[We. The People. Part 3: Letting Go]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28121 Sun, 11 Jun 2017 17:46:54 -0700 Chris Chaos]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28121
Chris continued to walk around the run down Dothan Wal-Mart. He was going to catch a plane out of Birmingham tomorrow to get to Vegas, but for right now he wanted to show people......well.......people. Chris walked past the piss soaked seemingly dead guy. Left for dead, just like he was. As soon as he walked through the doors he set his cell phone stopwatch to 60 minutes. He was going to walk through hell on earth, and show Thaddeus and Caedus that their little "army's" and their redneck drinking buddies were nothing.......you see, in his eyes, life is what you make it out to be. If you see things through rose colored glasses, you will ever really see things for what they are. Chris had struggled through this for some time. He always stayed optimistic that things would get better. They never did. That he would be with Nicole and settle down. He never did. That he would be the greatest Universal Champion in the history of professional wrestling. He wasn't.........yet. 

As he hit "GO" on his watch, he walked through the doors, talking as he did so. 

"I have been called a lot of things in my life. I have been called a lot of things since I have been here, as well. I may not be the top of Paul Heyman's power rankings, but I am top 4. You all act like I am a basement dweller. Like one loss here or there has defined my entire contract. Hell, both Thaddeus and I are AHEAD of the current Universal Champion. What does that say about the strength of this company? But I think my record stands for itself. I am a former Universal Champion and, unlike Jim Caedus, I earned that gold. He took it in a pathetic display of cowardice. I took on 5 of, at the time, the top superstars in this entire business. And I came out on top. I walked through shit and came out smelling like roses. Jim Caedus barely broke a sweat. Can anyone say he has earned his spot at the top? You will think a redneck hillbilly like him would love to fight. You would think he would want to be the first one to step up and take on an opponent just to say he kicked their ass ass and took their title while sharing beers with his "brothers" at the American Legion. You'd think he would want people to know he was a baddddd sumbitch. Instead, all people know is that he stole a title off a beaten man, and that he has been effectively hiding ever since. 

If this isn't the tell tale sign of being a bitch made faggit, I don't know what is.

When I had the belt I wasn't a hard guy to find. I took on anyone and everyone. I wasn't always granted the matches, but I didn't let anyone talk sideways. I will step in the ring whenever, wherever I need to. Hell it doesn't even need to be in a ring. There isn't a single person on this planet who couldn't describe me as a fighting champion. There isn't a single person on this planet who couldn't say, at least, that I brought some form of honor to being the champion. What honor has Jim Caedus brought? What honor would Thaddeus Duke bring? Thaddeus the pretty boy and Caedus the big bearded coward. 

You could call me a, "man of the people", could you not? And here is the funny thing......I hate the people. And they hate me. But it is a relationship that works because we both have an understanding that through our hate, we need each other. 

Jimmy thought he was cute with a little montage aimed directly and solely at me. He thought he was being slick. Jim is about as slick as a turtle trying to walk through quicksand. Isn't it painfully obvious that he is panicking? He sees his title slipping away. He sees it in his grasp, and his grasp is loosening as the seconds tick away. He sees his future in AX3 going down the drain. He sees himself slipping back into obscurity. Maybe this was his way of getting back at me for ripping him apart two promos ago when I pointed out how blatantly gay everything he says is? Noticed how he has toned it down a tad? He knows. But he hates to accept. You see, when I talk, people listen. That is the beauty of having power and having influence. If Jim had done the same I would have thrown a middle finger into the 02 around me and told him to shove it...though I am sure he would like it there.....but when I mention something he does it. Hmmm......I wonder why? Because he KNOWS I am the top dog around here. He knows that this is my junkyard and anyone who wants to try to rummage through it will feel my teeth."

This woman didn't have help with these punk kids, and Thaddeus won't have help either. He is all alone. All alone with two others who constantly do everything they can to make things as difficult as hell for him......who is gonna come out on top?

Either way, should be chaotic.

Thaddeus Duke is gonna be alone in there with a monster. No help. But, maybe he is subliminally asking for it.

Thaddeus Duke is basically a Gabe Reno clone. He has to put out 5, 6, 7, 8 promos, sans the lighting and crayola fonts, in order to justify his shallow words. Shallow messages, shallow words, boring layout. He thins because Gabe put out 9 promos and beat me, he can do the same. But Gabe Reno didn't beat me cleanly, because Gabe Reno can't beat me cleanly. But I know what Thaddy boy will say "he still beat you. A loss is a loss." Maybe true. But Gabe didn't beat me due to skill, Gabe beat me because Vinnie Lane couldn't help sicking his little nose in everyone's business. I had Reno dead to rights. I will have Thaddeus dead to rights as well. This time there will be no Vinnie. I don't need to put out 10 promos to beat Thaddeus. It just makes him look shallow and I refuse to stoop there. He can't out fight me, so he wants to out talk me. Pathetic, am I wrong? Reno tried. Reno failed. Vinnie won that match for the Reno*Verse. Thaddeus will lose this match for himself.

FORTY SIX MINUTES

Chris walked around the corner to the hunting and fishing section.

There was a redneck there in work boots who looked like he just got done mowing football field worth of glass. He was sampling shotguns, with three laid out on the glass counter in front of him.

"Deez ones always done do that backfire horsesheet" he said, and Chris cringed. "I jus' want one where I can shoo't a damn turkey ora damn quail an not hafta worry bout no broken shoulda's n sheet"

Zrrrt

He spit into a water bottle that was stained brown.

Chris sat and watched this man. This was Jim Caedus in a nutshell. He wants everything handed to him because he looks rough and tumble, he looks the image and fits the part. People are intimidated by him because of his size and stature, but don't know that on the inside he is a fragile, frail man. That is why he is so angry, he hates himself.

"Can I get somm'one who knows wat the fuck they are talkin 'bout when dey speak? Women don't know dogshit bout no guns."

The girl behind the counter, he didn't realize, had been called in to work that department and really didn't know much about the guns. She was just a fill in. But still, she tried. She even had the paperwork for each out, reading through them, to see what they did and what caliber they were.

She was trying.

But impostor Jim didn't care. He slammed his hand down on the counter, spitting in his gross bottle while he did it.

"Gimme someone who knows this sheet!"

She stepped back. She thought maybe he was going to break the glass.

"I want to talk to someone who doesn't belong in the housewares department! Dammmit!"

Chris could tell this woman was growing increasingly more upset.

"Jim Caedus has such backwards views. He doesn't care that people around them are trying their hardest, even in tough situations. In a way, I respect that. He demands perfection.......what I don't respect is that he doesn't take the time to know what perfection is. He tries to justify himself as being a baddddd motherfucker because he participated in a few coordinated attacks here and there. He thinks that because he is aggressive, arrogant, and an asshole that he is full on AX3. He isn't AX3......he is a nobody. He needed AX3 more than AX3 needed him. He wanted to kick me out of the group because he couldn't control me.....he couldn't put his ego aside to understand that someone can be more aggressive, more arrogant and more of an asshole than he was. He couldn't wrap his head around it. Jim Caedus couldn't understand why someone who wasn't a champion, and was in a bit of a skid, was getting more recognition than him. He still can't. He never once thought that maybe, just maybe, someone out there is BETTER than him. Jim has beaten a lot of people on this roster..but he has never had to face me. Look at Danny Imperial. The rising star. The man who was a Television Champion, "The Next Big Thing", the future of this company. I sent him packing. He hasn't been seen since. Jim Caedus is walking head fist into a Tornado and is too stupid to take cover. So I am going to blow his roof off and tear his house down."

He walked around the landscape of this bar.

Line after line of broke white person after broke white person. Thaddeus Duke drives leer jets and leads army's over landscapes.......Jim Caedus was homeless and apparently likes to fuck men in the ass......these aren't his people either. They don't like that gay shit.

20 Minutes blinked on his phone.

Wow....shit goes quick when you are dealing with idiots. It would feel sooooo much slower for Jim and Thaddeus.

He noticed an open door, creaked, leading out to the back. He heard what sounded like crashing and fidgeting around. He walked around and peeked through. He saw what appeared to be a woman, all alone, in the graffiti wrapped walls of Wal-Mart's back lot. The heat had to be close to 100 degrees outside.


[Image: 0mbT2sN.jpg]


She was seated on a rusty, dirty bench. She was shaking. Her skin was as pale as her dirty shirt was. She looked up at him, almost through him, with deep, round, shallow, dead eyes. He had seen those eyes before, even though the face was sunken.

Nicole.

He watched as the balloon wrapped. He watched as her mouth bit the cap off the needle and placed it on her trembling bicep.

The girl he loved.....the girl he has fought for his entire life. The girl he would drop it all for and live in happiness.

The girl whose parents he had killed.

The needle pressed in.

He could save her. He could stop this. But if he saved her, he would need to stay with her in the hospital, he would miss High Stakes......

.....he would lose his chance.

Normally, he would. He knew he would get another chance. The company needed him to be the champion. But Nicole was the only true "love" he had ever known. She was the only thing that made him feel whole.

In a way he knew he created this mess. He knew part of her situation was his fault.

But he knew what he needed to do.

He walked over and got down on one knee. Her eyes were gone. They weren't the same eyes he knew anymore, they were cloudy. Almost milkish.

"I love you." He said to her, kissing her forehead. "I have always loved you. I always will love you."

He stroked her hair, he wondered if she felt it.

"Let me help you......"

"C----C----Chrr-----Chris?" Her voice was weak. This wasn't the strong willed Nicole he once knew.

"Nicole.....take my hand."

Her frail hand grabbed his, she vainly attempted to squeeze.

"Now, Nicole......let go."

She tried to lift her head again, to look Chris in the eyes. She could barely lift it. He could see her dirty panties under her shirt. All she was wearing was a shirt.

"Let go."

Nicole hesitated.

"If you ever loved me, you'd understand."

Her head fell back.

"Why I need to go."

Her head dropped forward.

He got up, he dusted off his knees.

The Universal Title was the only thing he loved now. And he had to let Nicole go. He had to had nothing left. He had to have nothing to love that he could run back to. He pulled out a dollar and dropped it at her feet.

Walking back to his Jeep his phone went off......it was his alarm.

60 minutes was up.

The Universal Title was all he had left.

A smile crossed his face as he opened the door.

The Bearded Liar Said:Nothing you've said to ME specifically bothers me.

That is why Jimmy felt the need to say it right?


[Image: xqx9l88.jpg]


That's what I thought.


[Image: Wp5FMaF.png]]]>
Chris continued to walk around the run down Dothan Wal-Mart. He was going to catch a plane out of Birmingham tomorrow to get to Vegas, but for right now he wanted to show people......well.......people. Chris walked past the piss soaked seemingly dead guy. Left for dead, just like he was. As soon as he walked through the doors he set his cell phone stopwatch to 60 minutes. He was going to walk through hell on earth, and show Thaddeus and Caedus that their little "army's" and their redneck drinking buddies were nothing.......you see, in his eyes, life is what you make it out to be. If you see things through rose colored glasses, you will ever really see things for what they are. Chris had struggled through this for some time. He always stayed optimistic that things would get better. They never did. That he would be with Nicole and settle down. He never did. That he would be the greatest Universal Champion in the history of professional wrestling. He wasn't.........yet. 

As he hit "GO" on his watch, he walked through the doors, talking as he did so. 

"I have been called a lot of things in my life. I have been called a lot of things since I have been here, as well. I may not be the top of Paul Heyman's power rankings, but I am top 4. You all act like I am a basement dweller. Like one loss here or there has defined my entire contract. Hell, both Thaddeus and I are AHEAD of the current Universal Champion. What does that say about the strength of this company? But I think my record stands for itself. I am a former Universal Champion and, unlike Jim Caedus, I earned that gold. He took it in a pathetic display of cowardice. I took on 5 of, at the time, the top superstars in this entire business. And I came out on top. I walked through shit and came out smelling like roses. Jim Caedus barely broke a sweat. Can anyone say he has earned his spot at the top? You will think a redneck hillbilly like him would love to fight. You would think he would want to be the first one to step up and take on an opponent just to say he kicked their ass ass and took their title while sharing beers with his "brothers" at the American Legion. You'd think he would want people to know he was a baddddd sumbitch. Instead, all people know is that he stole a title off a beaten man, and that he has been effectively hiding ever since. 

If this isn't the tell tale sign of being a bitch made faggit, I don't know what is.

When I had the belt I wasn't a hard guy to find. I took on anyone and everyone. I wasn't always granted the matches, but I didn't let anyone talk sideways. I will step in the ring whenever, wherever I need to. Hell it doesn't even need to be in a ring. There isn't a single person on this planet who couldn't describe me as a fighting champion. There isn't a single person on this planet who couldn't say, at least, that I brought some form of honor to being the champion. What honor has Jim Caedus brought? What honor would Thaddeus Duke bring? Thaddeus the pretty boy and Caedus the big bearded coward. 

You could call me a, "man of the people", could you not? And here is the funny thing......I hate the people. And they hate me. But it is a relationship that works because we both have an understanding that through our hate, we need each other. 

Jimmy thought he was cute with a little montage aimed directly and solely at me. He thought he was being slick. Jim is about as slick as a turtle trying to walk through quicksand. Isn't it painfully obvious that he is panicking? He sees his title slipping away. He sees it in his grasp, and his grasp is loosening as the seconds tick away. He sees his future in AX3 going down the drain. He sees himself slipping back into obscurity. Maybe this was his way of getting back at me for ripping him apart two promos ago when I pointed out how blatantly gay everything he says is? Noticed how he has toned it down a tad? He knows. But he hates to accept. You see, when I talk, people listen. That is the beauty of having power and having influence. If Jim had done the same I would have thrown a middle finger into the 02 around me and told him to shove it...though I am sure he would like it there.....but when I mention something he does it. Hmmm......I wonder why? Because he KNOWS I am the top dog around here. He knows that this is my junkyard and anyone who wants to try to rummage through it will feel my teeth."

This woman didn't have help with these punk kids, and Thaddeus won't have help either. He is all alone. All alone with two others who constantly do everything they can to make things as difficult as hell for him......who is gonna come out on top?

Either way, should be chaotic.

Thaddeus Duke is gonna be alone in there with a monster. No help. But, maybe he is subliminally asking for it.

Thaddeus Duke is basically a Gabe Reno clone. He has to put out 5, 6, 7, 8 promos, sans the lighting and crayola fonts, in order to justify his shallow words. Shallow messages, shallow words, boring layout. He thins because Gabe put out 9 promos and beat me, he can do the same. But Gabe Reno didn't beat me cleanly, because Gabe Reno can't beat me cleanly. But I know what Thaddy boy will say "he still beat you. A loss is a loss." Maybe true. But Gabe didn't beat me due to skill, Gabe beat me because Vinnie Lane couldn't help sicking his little nose in everyone's business. I had Reno dead to rights. I will have Thaddeus dead to rights as well. This time there will be no Vinnie. I don't need to put out 10 promos to beat Thaddeus. It just makes him look shallow and I refuse to stoop there. He can't out fight me, so he wants to out talk me. Pathetic, am I wrong? Reno tried. Reno failed. Vinnie won that match for the Reno*Verse. Thaddeus will lose this match for himself.

FORTY SIX MINUTES

Chris walked around the corner to the hunting and fishing section.

There was a redneck there in work boots who looked like he just got done mowing football field worth of glass. He was sampling shotguns, with three laid out on the glass counter in front of him.

"Deez ones always done do that backfire horsesheet" he said, and Chris cringed. "I jus' want one where I can shoo't a damn turkey ora damn quail an not hafta worry bout no broken shoulda's n sheet"

Zrrrt

He spit into a water bottle that was stained brown.

Chris sat and watched this man. This was Jim Caedus in a nutshell. He wants everything handed to him because he looks rough and tumble, he looks the image and fits the part. People are intimidated by him because of his size and stature, but don't know that on the inside he is a fragile, frail man. That is why he is so angry, he hates himself.

"Can I get somm'one who knows wat the fuck they are talkin 'bout when dey speak? Women don't know dogshit bout no guns."

The girl behind the counter, he didn't realize, had been called in to work that department and really didn't know much about the guns. She was just a fill in. But still, she tried. She even had the paperwork for each out, reading through them, to see what they did and what caliber they were.

She was trying.

But impostor Jim didn't care. He slammed his hand down on the counter, spitting in his gross bottle while he did it.

"Gimme someone who knows this sheet!"

She stepped back. She thought maybe he was going to break the glass.

"I want to talk to someone who doesn't belong in the housewares department! Dammmit!"

Chris could tell this woman was growing increasingly more upset.

"Jim Caedus has such backwards views. He doesn't care that people around them are trying their hardest, even in tough situations. In a way, I respect that. He demands perfection.......what I don't respect is that he doesn't take the time to know what perfection is. He tries to justify himself as being a baddddd motherfucker because he participated in a few coordinated attacks here and there. He thinks that because he is aggressive, arrogant, and an asshole that he is full on AX3. He isn't AX3......he is a nobody. He needed AX3 more than AX3 needed him. He wanted to kick me out of the group because he couldn't control me.....he couldn't put his ego aside to understand that someone can be more aggressive, more arrogant and more of an asshole than he was. He couldn't wrap his head around it. Jim Caedus couldn't understand why someone who wasn't a champion, and was in a bit of a skid, was getting more recognition than him. He still can't. He never once thought that maybe, just maybe, someone out there is BETTER than him. Jim has beaten a lot of people on this roster..but he has never had to face me. Look at Danny Imperial. The rising star. The man who was a Television Champion, "The Next Big Thing", the future of this company. I sent him packing. He hasn't been seen since. Jim Caedus is walking head fist into a Tornado and is too stupid to take cover. So I am going to blow his roof off and tear his house down."

He walked around the landscape of this bar.

Line after line of broke white person after broke white person. Thaddeus Duke drives leer jets and leads army's over landscapes.......Jim Caedus was homeless and apparently likes to fuck men in the ass......these aren't his people either. They don't like that gay shit.

20 Minutes blinked on his phone.

Wow....shit goes quick when you are dealing with idiots. It would feel sooooo much slower for Jim and Thaddeus.

He noticed an open door, creaked, leading out to the back. He heard what sounded like crashing and fidgeting around. He walked around and peeked through. He saw what appeared to be a woman, all alone, in the graffiti wrapped walls of Wal-Mart's back lot. The heat had to be close to 100 degrees outside.


[Image: 0mbT2sN.jpg]


She was seated on a rusty, dirty bench. She was shaking. Her skin was as pale as her dirty shirt was. She looked up at him, almost through him, with deep, round, shallow, dead eyes. He had seen those eyes before, even though the face was sunken.

Nicole.

He watched as the balloon wrapped. He watched as her mouth bit the cap off the needle and placed it on her trembling bicep.

The girl he loved.....the girl he has fought for his entire life. The girl he would drop it all for and live in happiness.

The girl whose parents he had killed.

The needle pressed in.

He could save her. He could stop this. But if he saved her, he would need to stay with her in the hospital, he would miss High Stakes......

.....he would lose his chance.

Normally, he would. He knew he would get another chance. The company needed him to be the champion. But Nicole was the only true "love" he had ever known. She was the only thing that made him feel whole.

In a way he knew he created this mess. He knew part of her situation was his fault.

But he knew what he needed to do.

He walked over and got down on one knee. Her eyes were gone. They weren't the same eyes he knew anymore, they were cloudy. Almost milkish.

"I love you." He said to her, kissing her forehead. "I have always loved you. I always will love you."

He stroked her hair, he wondered if she felt it.

"Let me help you......"

"C----C----Chrr-----Chris?" Her voice was weak. This wasn't the strong willed Nicole he once knew.

"Nicole.....take my hand."

Her frail hand grabbed his, she vainly attempted to squeeze.

"Now, Nicole......let go."

She tried to lift her head again, to look Chris in the eyes. She could barely lift it. He could see her dirty panties under her shirt. All she was wearing was a shirt.

"Let go."

Nicole hesitated.

"If you ever loved me, you'd understand."

Her head fell back.

"Why I need to go."

Her head dropped forward.

He got up, he dusted off his knees.

The Universal Title was the only thing he loved now. And he had to let Nicole go. He had to had nothing left. He had to have nothing to love that he could run back to. He pulled out a dollar and dropped it at her feet.

Walking back to his Jeep his phone went off......it was his alarm.

60 minutes was up.

The Universal Title was all he had left.

A smile crossed his face as he opened the door.

The Bearded Liar Said:Nothing you've said to ME specifically bothers me.

That is why Jimmy felt the need to say it right?


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That's what I thought.


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