<![CDATA[X-treme Wrestling Federation - LEAP OF FAITH 2018]]> https://xwf1999.com/ Tue, 19 May 2026 13:58:50 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[Last thoughts?]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31902 Sat, 21 Jul 2018 23:59:43 -0700 Azrael Erebus]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31902


"Let's get right down to the nitty gritty, shall we? We all know why we're here and what's at stake. We all know who the players are in this game. Everyone has one life, I see. Except for me, since as far as I can tell, I've got an unlimited supply. How is that possible? Well let me explain..."


"Remember, I can regenerate, which basically means, when someone decides to cause me harm and.... I don't know, throws a sledgehammer at my leg. Oh yeah, that leg, is definitely going to break. It's going to hurt like heck too! I might even give a yelp of pain cause a sledgehammer to the leg doesn't exactly feel like getting hit with a pillow. That shit hurts! I know. I've been crucified... a few times in my days. Both legs broken, usually with a sledgehammer. Then nailed to a cross and left for dead, for all the world to see. It is not a fun time at all. Most tend to die. I've died in this very scenario but then I woke up. Imagine that shit. Waking up, twenty feet off the ground with nails stuck through your wrists and ankles. That's right. They went through the wrists, not the hands cause the hand, just doesn't support the weight of a body. You'd have a body dropping off the cross right after it got erected upright, if you went through the hand. Which is just bad for business, if you want your king or warlord to be happy and stay happy, with the work you've done pertaining to the whole crucifixion process. If you're king doesn't stay happy... oh well, you can just sign your name on that dotted line for the contract, to be the next contestant on the crucifixion show. Believe me, there's always someone to take on the role as the crucifier, in that line of work. "


"Anyway, we've strayed way off course, haven't we? Don't worry, I can bring us back. "


"Someone has thrown a sledgehammer at my leg. It connects. The leg breaks. I topple over screaming obscenities. I'm feeling some real pain at this moment. But then, about ten to twenty minutes later, give or take. POOF! The leg is as good as new! My leg mended itself! Amazing, right? Now, lets say a shark falls out of the sky, cause there's a tornado of them nearby. Yes. A tornado of sharks is passing through town, one falls out of the tornado, I'm in its path and it grabs onto my arm, then bites it clear off. Oh no! I fall over, most assuredly hollering and cursing, like you wouldn't believe. Losing a limb sucks. I know cause it's happened to me... many, many times. It's not even funny, how often this has happened. Seriously. I've lost every appendage (that's including the third and most important leg ) multiple times, in my lifetime. They always grow back. Thankfully! The only thing that I haven't had severed from my body is my head. So I'm not exactly sure if I could come back from such an injury or what would happen afterwards. Frankly it sort of gives me the chills merely thinking about it. So I'm not exactly jumping at the chance to find out."


"Lastly we'll go even further. Death. Michael Graves pulls out a pistol at Leap Of Faith and shoots me in the head. The arena goes into an uproar. Michael Graves is deemed a murderer. Peter Gilmour is crying, Robbie Bourbon is remembering the taste of brains, Chris Chaos fainted, Finn Kuhn is hiding under the ring and Robert Main is wondering if he should play the hero or go for the briefcase. If this happened, there's a plan. My body doesn't get picked up by an ambulance. Instead, it's brought to the back, thrown into a trunk and then that trunk is put into a van, that takes my body to the main XWF building, where the trunk is tossed into whatever room Vinnie Lane decided upon as the site for my corpse, should the need for that ever arise. With my luck it's like the janitor's closet. Anyhow... 24 to 32 hours, later. I'm back! That's right. I've returned to life. So far, it seems like that's what will keep happening until the end of time, till someone figures out a way to keep my death permanent, or I've ascended to max capacity and gained so much power, I literally implode into nothing and stay that way. I've imploded before and thankfully returned to life but there might come a day when that implosion is so powerful, I can't come back. I also might take out an entire solar system with me in the process. So that's something I have to look forward to. Yay!"


"Anyhow, in conclusion, I can feel pain, get hurt and even die. These things just don't keep me down. Not for long anyway. My wounds will heal, my limbs regenerate and I can come back to life, if I die. Where Robert Main got that I can't feel agony, is beyond me cause I've never claimed that. He actually built me up to be more super powered in his head, than I am in real life. Wow. I don't know what to say to that? I'm flattered. Thanks, Robert. Sorry to ruin the fantasy that you concocted. Oh and you still owe me that favor."


"I think that about covers what I was going to say."


"I still feel like I'm forgetting something though."


"Oh, that's right... Robbie Bourbon and Finn Kuhn. I was going to tell you both, why you were worthy to grab the briefcase."


"Robert Funnybottoms Bourbon. I think you deserve to go on to face the Engineer because it'll be entertaining. Almost for the same reason as Chris Chaos. Except where Chris will get up there and try. Try all his might. So hard that it's funny cause in the end he still loses. Everyone knew that was going to happen too. Which is why it's so damn funny. Merely imagining the scenario makes me want to crack up. I can picture the guy, trying his heart out. Then he fails and somewhere in the distance... a sad trumpet plays. Hilarious. However, you're more of the dark comedy. You go out to the ring, knowing that you're going to lose. You know in your heart, it's not going to happen. So you do everything in your power to antagonize and annoy the piss out of Engy. From coming out to the ring while you're eating a sandwich, to holding your finger up in order to take a phone call, during the match, to pulling out an Engineer t-shirt to use as a sweat rag... the skies the limit. You might have even paid off the ref to draw x's on your eyelids after you take the pin. The match would be remembered so much for your high jinx, your loss would overshadow his victory. Imagine that. It could be quite amazing."


"Finn Kuhn. Why should you win? I'd like to see a guy get knocked out after one punch. Pretty simple. Engy walks out. Throws a punch. You take it. Hit the canvas. Done. He pins you. Awkwardly. It's a weird victory and then you'll be remembered as the guy who went down after one hit. Ol' One Punch! That'll be you, Finn. Think of how it'll be when you go to the corner grocery shop, for a quart of low-fat, almond milk and you're disappointed when they don't have it... yet again, but as you leave the store clerk points at you and says - "See ya tomorrow 'Ol One Punch!" Cause he knows you'll be back tomorrow, to look disappointed at his dairy case and then leave empty handed. He doesn't know why you keep doing this. You never ask if he can order anything special for you. Yet this routine has happened for years. It's quite possibly the saddest routine in history. Till you get your nickname. Then everything will change. And that's why I think you deserve to win Finn. "]]>


"Let's get right down to the nitty gritty, shall we? We all know why we're here and what's at stake. We all know who the players are in this game. Everyone has one life, I see. Except for me, since as far as I can tell, I've got an unlimited supply. How is that possible? Well let me explain..."


"Remember, I can regenerate, which basically means, when someone decides to cause me harm and.... I don't know, throws a sledgehammer at my leg. Oh yeah, that leg, is definitely going to break. It's going to hurt like heck too! I might even give a yelp of pain cause a sledgehammer to the leg doesn't exactly feel like getting hit with a pillow. That shit hurts! I know. I've been crucified... a few times in my days. Both legs broken, usually with a sledgehammer. Then nailed to a cross and left for dead, for all the world to see. It is not a fun time at all. Most tend to die. I've died in this very scenario but then I woke up. Imagine that shit. Waking up, twenty feet off the ground with nails stuck through your wrists and ankles. That's right. They went through the wrists, not the hands cause the hand, just doesn't support the weight of a body. You'd have a body dropping off the cross right after it got erected upright, if you went through the hand. Which is just bad for business, if you want your king or warlord to be happy and stay happy, with the work you've done pertaining to the whole crucifixion process. If you're king doesn't stay happy... oh well, you can just sign your name on that dotted line for the contract, to be the next contestant on the crucifixion show. Believe me, there's always someone to take on the role as the crucifier, in that line of work. "


"Anyway, we've strayed way off course, haven't we? Don't worry, I can bring us back. "


"Someone has thrown a sledgehammer at my leg. It connects. The leg breaks. I topple over screaming obscenities. I'm feeling some real pain at this moment. But then, about ten to twenty minutes later, give or take. POOF! The leg is as good as new! My leg mended itself! Amazing, right? Now, lets say a shark falls out of the sky, cause there's a tornado of them nearby. Yes. A tornado of sharks is passing through town, one falls out of the tornado, I'm in its path and it grabs onto my arm, then bites it clear off. Oh no! I fall over, most assuredly hollering and cursing, like you wouldn't believe. Losing a limb sucks. I know cause it's happened to me... many, many times. It's not even funny, how often this has happened. Seriously. I've lost every appendage (that's including the third and most important leg ) multiple times, in my lifetime. They always grow back. Thankfully! The only thing that I haven't had severed from my body is my head. So I'm not exactly sure if I could come back from such an injury or what would happen afterwards. Frankly it sort of gives me the chills merely thinking about it. So I'm not exactly jumping at the chance to find out."


"Lastly we'll go even further. Death. Michael Graves pulls out a pistol at Leap Of Faith and shoots me in the head. The arena goes into an uproar. Michael Graves is deemed a murderer. Peter Gilmour is crying, Robbie Bourbon is remembering the taste of brains, Chris Chaos fainted, Finn Kuhn is hiding under the ring and Robert Main is wondering if he should play the hero or go for the briefcase. If this happened, there's a plan. My body doesn't get picked up by an ambulance. Instead, it's brought to the back, thrown into a trunk and then that trunk is put into a van, that takes my body to the main XWF building, where the trunk is tossed into whatever room Vinnie Lane decided upon as the site for my corpse, should the need for that ever arise. With my luck it's like the janitor's closet. Anyhow... 24 to 32 hours, later. I'm back! That's right. I've returned to life. So far, it seems like that's what will keep happening until the end of time, till someone figures out a way to keep my death permanent, or I've ascended to max capacity and gained so much power, I literally implode into nothing and stay that way. I've imploded before and thankfully returned to life but there might come a day when that implosion is so powerful, I can't come back. I also might take out an entire solar system with me in the process. So that's something I have to look forward to. Yay!"


"Anyhow, in conclusion, I can feel pain, get hurt and even die. These things just don't keep me down. Not for long anyway. My wounds will heal, my limbs regenerate and I can come back to life, if I die. Where Robert Main got that I can't feel agony, is beyond me cause I've never claimed that. He actually built me up to be more super powered in his head, than I am in real life. Wow. I don't know what to say to that? I'm flattered. Thanks, Robert. Sorry to ruin the fantasy that you concocted. Oh and you still owe me that favor."


"I think that about covers what I was going to say."


"I still feel like I'm forgetting something though."


"Oh, that's right... Robbie Bourbon and Finn Kuhn. I was going to tell you both, why you were worthy to grab the briefcase."


"Robert Funnybottoms Bourbon. I think you deserve to go on to face the Engineer because it'll be entertaining. Almost for the same reason as Chris Chaos. Except where Chris will get up there and try. Try all his might. So hard that it's funny cause in the end he still loses. Everyone knew that was going to happen too. Which is why it's so damn funny. Merely imagining the scenario makes me want to crack up. I can picture the guy, trying his heart out. Then he fails and somewhere in the distance... a sad trumpet plays. Hilarious. However, you're more of the dark comedy. You go out to the ring, knowing that you're going to lose. You know in your heart, it's not going to happen. So you do everything in your power to antagonize and annoy the piss out of Engy. From coming out to the ring while you're eating a sandwich, to holding your finger up in order to take a phone call, during the match, to pulling out an Engineer t-shirt to use as a sweat rag... the skies the limit. You might have even paid off the ref to draw x's on your eyelids after you take the pin. The match would be remembered so much for your high jinx, your loss would overshadow his victory. Imagine that. It could be quite amazing."


"Finn Kuhn. Why should you win? I'd like to see a guy get knocked out after one punch. Pretty simple. Engy walks out. Throws a punch. You take it. Hit the canvas. Done. He pins you. Awkwardly. It's a weird victory and then you'll be remembered as the guy who went down after one hit. Ol' One Punch! That'll be you, Finn. Think of how it'll be when you go to the corner grocery shop, for a quart of low-fat, almond milk and you're disappointed when they don't have it... yet again, but as you leave the store clerk points at you and says - "See ya tomorrow 'Ol One Punch!" Cause he knows you'll be back tomorrow, to look disappointed at his dairy case and then leave empty handed. He doesn't know why you keep doing this. You never ask if he can order anything special for you. Yet this routine has happened for years. It's quite possibly the saddest routine in history. Till you get your nickname. Then everything will change. And that's why I think you deserve to win Finn. "]]> <![CDATA[The Truth About Madison Dyson]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31899 Sat, 21 Jul 2018 21:24:38 -0700 Jenny Myst]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31899 Jenny was screaming into her cell phone as she walked to her transportation car.

"Don't you EVER put me in a situation like that again! That was a complete waste of my time! I can't even.....you may not get paid this week, I may not pay you! You should know me by now!"

She was fuming, her face as pink as her hair extensions.

"I should fire you right now! Are you kidding me! I have a match against Madison Dyson I have to focus on and you book me on that liberal left wing nonsense! I have half a mind to fire you right now!"

She slid into the black car that was waiting for her and slammed the door. She pressed end and threw the phone next to her.

"Drive" she told the man as he got into the car.


Jenny knew this match wasn't going to be easy. She had a lot on her mind to say the least, and this match being submission wasn't making it any easier. X-Treme rules and Submission? She would not submit. This match was no longer for the title, sure, but it was a matter of pride. Should couldn't be the leader of Empire and the women's movement if she tapped out to a part timer with a "Let me speak to the manager" haircut. She couldn't allow herself to tap out to a woman who looks like one of those Yelp Cunts who posts reviews about every place she goes because god forbid the ice wasn't wet enough.

Madison had taught her a lot of things. As she looked out the limo tinted window of the expensive ride she was in, she began to reflect. Madison taught her to turn her anger into motivation. To turn her hatred into success. Madison used to irk her, now Jenny found a way to laugh at her. Jenny found a way to channel everything she felt about Madison into being the best she could be at all times. Madison, by comparison, makes Jenny look sane. This old witch of a woman rambling on about literally nothing all the time. I mean, to be a cunt this much?

Almost makes you feel bad for the woman.

Almost.

Not quite.

Fuck her.

As the ride rolled on, Jenny sighed. She felt bad for yelling at Megan but she hated her time wasted. As the world passed her by, and DC seemed to run by, she wondered what it all meant. She was hear for a reason, on this earth, in this company, in this match. She had a purpose. This time, it was to end Madison Dyson, to shut her up for good. As the world passed her by Jenny felt like she actually had a purpose in life........

She sighed....and picked up the phone. She called Megan to apologize.

She was growing every day.

#Progress

[Image: g3z5EgZ.gif]

"I'm glad I've had such an impact on you Madison. I am glad I make your blood boil. I am glad I make you shiver with disgust. I means I am doing my job. I am glad they want me to go away, because that makes seeing me all that much better. THEY CAN'T GET AWAY. I am everywhere, and they hate it. You hate it. I am the lifeblood that keeps the women's division in this place alive, like it or not. I am a staple here, at this point, and the harder you are all force-fed perfection the better ya'll are. You need a little perfection on your lives.......it'll be good for you.

So the part timer who only pops up when I am involved, or when she wants to leech off Engy's success, is telling me about self promotion? The woman who would be nothing if he client wasn't world champion is telling me how to market? And I am the dense one? Madison you live your life in a delusion. I honestly think you suffer from Histrionic Personality Disorder. The symptoms are all there. Your entire personality is about attention seeking. You need it, you feed off it, you have to be in the limelight---but yet you only pop up when convenient. Maybe you're off your meds?

Madison, just to show you that I back up my flames with facts, let me tell you all the symptoms.

People with this disorder may be:

--the center of attention, uncomfortable if they aren't.
--often interesting and lively, dramatic, they have difficulty when people aren't focused exlusively on them.
--they may be percieved as being shallow, may engage in sexually seductive or provocative behavior to draw attention to themselves.

I mean, is that not Madison in a nutshell? Let me continue.

--difficulty achieving emotional intimacy in romantic relationsips.
--without noticing they often act out a role in their relationships to others. They may seek to control their partnet through emotional manipulation or seductiveness on one level and display a dependency on another.

Holy jumping fucking shit balls, maybe Megan is good for something. She showed me this earlier and I nearly pissed myself. Madison, you are all of these things. You are so desperate to have the lights on you, to have people paying attention to the bullshit you spew. You have to try to control Engy but playing off that you need him. Without Engy, you'd be just another middle aged woman with terrible roots trying to earn a paycheck at something she isn't qualified to do.

You go girl! Earn that money!

But remember when you use to walk Engy to the ring on a leash? Now look at him and look at you. You went from dominance to dependancy. You wear leather and yield a whip. You play dress up as Eva Brawn. You're nothing but an act, a gimmick, a sideshow. You need people to care about Madison Dyson and when you sit alone too long you go stir crazy. You see me here, making waves and putting women's wrestling on the map, and here you come...popping up like Herpes at the least opportune time.

For all of us.

That is all you are, Madison, a blistering infection set out to destroy everything good about XWF. But I am the bad one? Yeah, Madison, whatever helps you sleep at night.

You know, you used to get under my skin. You used to frusterate the hell out of me. I used to pull my hair out trying to figure out what the hell I had to do to be more like Madison Dyson. You seemed like you had it all figured out, like you were put together, meanwhile I was this hot mess that could barely walk without tripping--figuratively of course. But now, I can sleep very well at night, deep REM sleep because now I know that Madison Dyson is ripping her greasy roots out trying her hardest to be like Jenny Myst.

I have become everything you try to desperately to be. Jenny Myst has become the Engy to your Madison, the yin to your yang. You need me, but you'll never show it. That is why you hurl these insults are cling to what worked for you before. That is why you try to hard to get at me. That is why you try to say things like this........

The Woman With The Worlds Worst Spray Tan Said:And it won't fucking matter because you will persist in being this blithe, ignorant caricature of a human, you will still be desperate to be respected and you will still fail to punch above mid-card status because management knows how much you suck too.

Bitch....

How many main events have I been in? How many times have I been the headline, the story of the show, involved in the best match? You like to throw words out to validate your claims but your claims are bullshit. You couldn't even hold onto the title long enough to make it to Sunday. You took it from me out of jealousy and then let the single biggest joke of a human being take it from you, face-shitting on your pride even more than it already it. You need whatever you can. This match is about more than a title, it is about bringing you down a peg. You know this. That is why you come up with all these clever and catchy disses, sometimes hilariously, because you have to try so goddamn hard to make people think you're some big bad wolf..........

.....but inside you're just a scared little piggy.

Just a little girl with a complex who needs the other girls to like her. Just scared little girl, like I used to be, when those terrible men would use me. Submissive......

A scared little girl who, no matter how hard she kicks, scream, scratches claws and fights, will be forced to submit Sunday Night to the one true power in women's wrestling.

[Image: 4hIqMPp.gif]

Of Perfection]]> Jenny was screaming into her cell phone as she walked to her transportation car.

"Don't you EVER put me in a situation like that again! That was a complete waste of my time! I can't even.....you may not get paid this week, I may not pay you! You should know me by now!"

She was fuming, her face as pink as her hair extensions.

"I should fire you right now! Are you kidding me! I have a match against Madison Dyson I have to focus on and you book me on that liberal left wing nonsense! I have half a mind to fire you right now!"

She slid into the black car that was waiting for her and slammed the door. She pressed end and threw the phone next to her.

"Drive" she told the man as he got into the car.


Jenny knew this match wasn't going to be easy. She had a lot on her mind to say the least, and this match being submission wasn't making it any easier. X-Treme rules and Submission? She would not submit. This match was no longer for the title, sure, but it was a matter of pride. Should couldn't be the leader of Empire and the women's movement if she tapped out to a part timer with a "Let me speak to the manager" haircut. She couldn't allow herself to tap out to a woman who looks like one of those Yelp Cunts who posts reviews about every place she goes because god forbid the ice wasn't wet enough.

Madison had taught her a lot of things. As she looked out the limo tinted window of the expensive ride she was in, she began to reflect. Madison taught her to turn her anger into motivation. To turn her hatred into success. Madison used to irk her, now Jenny found a way to laugh at her. Jenny found a way to channel everything she felt about Madison into being the best she could be at all times. Madison, by comparison, makes Jenny look sane. This old witch of a woman rambling on about literally nothing all the time. I mean, to be a cunt this much?

Almost makes you feel bad for the woman.

Almost.

Not quite.

Fuck her.

As the ride rolled on, Jenny sighed. She felt bad for yelling at Megan but she hated her time wasted. As the world passed her by, and DC seemed to run by, she wondered what it all meant. She was hear for a reason, on this earth, in this company, in this match. She had a purpose. This time, it was to end Madison Dyson, to shut her up for good. As the world passed her by Jenny felt like she actually had a purpose in life........

She sighed....and picked up the phone. She called Megan to apologize.

She was growing every day.

#Progress

[Image: g3z5EgZ.gif]

"I'm glad I've had such an impact on you Madison. I am glad I make your blood boil. I am glad I make you shiver with disgust. I means I am doing my job. I am glad they want me to go away, because that makes seeing me all that much better. THEY CAN'T GET AWAY. I am everywhere, and they hate it. You hate it. I am the lifeblood that keeps the women's division in this place alive, like it or not. I am a staple here, at this point, and the harder you are all force-fed perfection the better ya'll are. You need a little perfection on your lives.......it'll be good for you.

So the part timer who only pops up when I am involved, or when she wants to leech off Engy's success, is telling me about self promotion? The woman who would be nothing if he client wasn't world champion is telling me how to market? And I am the dense one? Madison you live your life in a delusion. I honestly think you suffer from Histrionic Personality Disorder. The symptoms are all there. Your entire personality is about attention seeking. You need it, you feed off it, you have to be in the limelight---but yet you only pop up when convenient. Maybe you're off your meds?

Madison, just to show you that I back up my flames with facts, let me tell you all the symptoms.

People with this disorder may be:

--the center of attention, uncomfortable if they aren't.
--often interesting and lively, dramatic, they have difficulty when people aren't focused exlusively on them.
--they may be percieved as being shallow, may engage in sexually seductive or provocative behavior to draw attention to themselves.

I mean, is that not Madison in a nutshell? Let me continue.

--difficulty achieving emotional intimacy in romantic relationsips.
--without noticing they often act out a role in their relationships to others. They may seek to control their partnet through emotional manipulation or seductiveness on one level and display a dependency on another.

Holy jumping fucking shit balls, maybe Megan is good for something. She showed me this earlier and I nearly pissed myself. Madison, you are all of these things. You are so desperate to have the lights on you, to have people paying attention to the bullshit you spew. You have to try to control Engy but playing off that you need him. Without Engy, you'd be just another middle aged woman with terrible roots trying to earn a paycheck at something she isn't qualified to do.

You go girl! Earn that money!

But remember when you use to walk Engy to the ring on a leash? Now look at him and look at you. You went from dominance to dependancy. You wear leather and yield a whip. You play dress up as Eva Brawn. You're nothing but an act, a gimmick, a sideshow. You need people to care about Madison Dyson and when you sit alone too long you go stir crazy. You see me here, making waves and putting women's wrestling on the map, and here you come...popping up like Herpes at the least opportune time.

For all of us.

That is all you are, Madison, a blistering infection set out to destroy everything good about XWF. But I am the bad one? Yeah, Madison, whatever helps you sleep at night.

You know, you used to get under my skin. You used to frusterate the hell out of me. I used to pull my hair out trying to figure out what the hell I had to do to be more like Madison Dyson. You seemed like you had it all figured out, like you were put together, meanwhile I was this hot mess that could barely walk without tripping--figuratively of course. But now, I can sleep very well at night, deep REM sleep because now I know that Madison Dyson is ripping her greasy roots out trying her hardest to be like Jenny Myst.

I have become everything you try to desperately to be. Jenny Myst has become the Engy to your Madison, the yin to your yang. You need me, but you'll never show it. That is why you hurl these insults are cling to what worked for you before. That is why you try to hard to get at me. That is why you try to say things like this........

The Woman With The Worlds Worst Spray Tan Said:And it won't fucking matter because you will persist in being this blithe, ignorant caricature of a human, you will still be desperate to be respected and you will still fail to punch above mid-card status because management knows how much you suck too.

Bitch....

How many main events have I been in? How many times have I been the headline, the story of the show, involved in the best match? You like to throw words out to validate your claims but your claims are bullshit. You couldn't even hold onto the title long enough to make it to Sunday. You took it from me out of jealousy and then let the single biggest joke of a human being take it from you, face-shitting on your pride even more than it already it. You need whatever you can. This match is about more than a title, it is about bringing you down a peg. You know this. That is why you come up with all these clever and catchy disses, sometimes hilariously, because you have to try so goddamn hard to make people think you're some big bad wolf..........

.....but inside you're just a scared little piggy.

Just a little girl with a complex who needs the other girls to like her. Just scared little girl, like I used to be, when those terrible men would use me. Submissive......

A scared little girl who, no matter how hard she kicks, scream, scratches claws and fights, will be forced to submit Sunday Night to the one true power in women's wrestling.

[Image: 4hIqMPp.gif]

Of Perfection]]> <![CDATA[Oops I did it again...]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31898 Sat, 21 Jul 2018 20:53:49 -0700 "Dark Warrior" Micheal Graves]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31898

The room is quiet, save for the creaking open of the front door. The door swings open and is promptly shut in a very gentle manner as the jingling of keys and and clacking of locks fill the air and abruptly fall to silence. All the while, the camera focuses in on a mismatched white phone on a black receiver on a large table. A red light is blinking, indicating that there are new messages on the answering machine. The air now echoes with footsteps and some sighs of relief as a male figure drops a few bags down on the floor and sets his keys and another small object on the counter. The footsteps grow ever closer from then on until a shadow of a long haired man plasters itself over the phone. His hand extends down to one of the button and his messages begin to play.

“You have 3 new messages...

Beep!

“Mikey!” A whiny and slightly effeminate voice echos. “It’s me, Cadryn! I just wanted to let you know that I spoke with Vinnie and told him that we’re all in to defend the tag titles at the next Warfare. I would have ran it by you first, but you’ve been a bit distant the last couple of weeks. What gives Gravy? Are you ok? I know you have a big opportunity at the pay per view and maybe you’re a little nervous about it. Don’t be, you’ve always had the ability to stand amongst the best around here and this, this is your opportunity to shine. Anyway, give me a call ya , K thx bye!”

Beep!

“Micheal, it’s me, well you… listen, you’re not going to remember this, but you need to know, you did something horrible. You didn’t mean to, it was… It just… listen, it doesn’t matter. You just need to hold it together when you find out. This shits going to hit you hard man, but remember, it wasn’t you that did it. Not really….

Beep!

“Hi honey, I’m just calling to tell you that I’m not going to make our date tonight. Some stuff came up with my mother, and I’m going to spend the evening with her. I’ll tell you more later, love you!”

“You have no more messages.”

Dark Warrior Micheal Graves
“What the fuck?”

Graves shakes his head in disbelief. That was definitely him on the phone, but he has no recollection of leaving that message. He thought he was past all of this shit. He’s been doing well for quite some time now. No psychotic outburst or split personality disorder at all, now suddenly there is a message on his answering machine that shares his voice and claims to be him, but definitely isn’t. Graves tries to let it go. It’s one time, if that was really him, he can reel it back in before things get out of hand. He’s sure of it. Though he is troubled by what he said to himself. What horrible thing did he do? The last time that this happened he attempted to molest an underaged Dolly Waters. Thankfully it can’t get much worse than that. Graves decides to flip on the TV. If nothing else it can serve as a distraction. Something to get his mind off of the troubling message that he just heard. The TV blinks on to a newscast already in progress.

“Police have released the names of the victims as Kourtni Perkins and Thomas Long. Their bodies were found at the Hillside Inn after guest complained to police about what sounded like a fight taking place in their room. There are currently no suspects, but police have identified the murder weapon as a katana sword.”

Graves is in shock, he tunes out the newscast as he rushes to his trophy room. The katana, the one he used as Wraith… its missing…

After awhile, the sobbing begins to transition into a heavy breathing as his emotions begin to intensify and morph from sadness and hopelessness to rage and seething hatred. With a terribly cry of anger, hatred, sorrow and despair, Graves clutches his hair tightly and lets out a roar. This is all his fault, this is what the message was about. He had finally found happiness, and it had been taken from him, by his own hand. Never mind the obvious fact that he caught her cheating on him with one other guy. He hasn’t even began to process that yet.

The camera cuts to black as the noises of the an object being picked up and hurled across the room accompany the painful howling. A large crashing and shattering commotion ensues and in the end, all that is heard is deep, animalistic breathing.

==========ITSA PROMO==========

Dark Warrior Micheal Graves

“Two weeks.


Two weeks that I’ve remained silent.


Two weeks that I’ve given my opponents opportunity to outshine me heading into Leap of Faith.


Two weeks that I’ve spent watching them all fail.


Robbie Bourbon came in hot trying to chap asses and get into everyone’s head early. Problem with that is, nobody fears Robbie Bourbon. Sure, there was a time when standing across the ring from that monster was an intimidating task, but that all disappeared when he shit the bed as Universal Champion and vanished from the XWF all together. The Robbie Bourbon that we have now just isn’t the same guy from before. Don’t take my word for it, just look at the facts. The dude went from a guy who wrecked me so hard, I found a whole new realm of crazy to live in, to a guy who couldn’t get the job done against Peter Gilmour and Chris Chaos when The Motherfuckers got their shot at the tag straps. Now sure, you can try and place blame on The War Pig for that loss, it was obvious that he wasn’t pulling his weight after all, but if Robbie was half the man he used to be, that wouldn’t have mattered. Just look to what happened when me and Cadryn got our shot, I picked up the slack and got us those titles! Cadryn played his role, but much like BWP, he definitely phoned it in. Not that it matters, I just needed a body to stand on the apron while I did work.


Next up we have Chris Chaos trying his damndest to sell us that same line of bullshit about him being the best, or the chosen one, or whatever the fuck he thinks he’s got going on that might just make him outshine me for once in his career. Chaos is nothing more than a tool who’s self opinion is higher than anyone in the world would ever give him credit for. You know all of those guys who are severely underrated in the world of sport? Well Chris Chaos is the exact opposite of that shit. The guy had one good run when he came in, and ever since then he’s been buying his own hype in bulk. Chaos, you suck! You’ve always sucked, and the fact that my over the hill ass has proven it to you every time we step into the ring together should be enough for you to finally get it, but alas, you’re also , but for a moment, let’s pretend that we live in a world where you actually do what you say for a change, a world where you aren’t the personification of suck. So you climb the ladder, repel across the area and take the leap. Luck is on your side this night, you open the case, it’s the contract. Chris Chaos now has a chance to use that contract to once again become Universal Champion. Except you’d probably fuck that up too! You’re the kinda guy who can be dealt a perfect hand, and still find a way lose everything and that’s exactly what would happen if you ended up trying to cash in on Engy. Of course, there is a chance that Engy doesn’t walk out of LOF with the title, but if Pestilence manages to defeat Engy, that’ll just mean there is yet another guy who’s managed to grow beyond you in a short time. That by the way Chris, is your biggest problem, the fact that you haven’t grown as a competitor at all since you first arrived. You peaked in your first few months here, and the rest of your career has been a downward spiral of empty promises and tough losses. Your that I spoke about earlier is further proven by the fact that you did what you did to Jim all those months ago, and yet you think that you’re going to continue to get away with it. The sands of your time in the XWF are slipping through the hourglass Chris…


You are not long for this world!


Which brings me to my former brother in arms, Robert Main.


When Cadryn and I won the Tag straps, I brought back the AX3 name and declared Cadryn the newest member. In case it went over anyone’s head, I was just goofing around and making a point that it doesn’t matter what name we worked under, we were winning the gold that night. However at Leap of Faith the world is going to see something truly awesome, because for one night only AX3 will reform to ensure that Chris Chaos gets what’s coming to him. Does that mean that Robert and I won’t fight? Does it mean that I’ll just let him go after a case without opposition? That’s a no on both accounts, but what it does mean is that if I see an opportunity to help my bud end Chris Chaos, I’ll take it!


Azrael, I have nothing bad to say about you either. Of course that’s largely to do with the fact that I hardly know of you to begin with. I know you were Bombshell champ, I know that Robert Main kicked your ass last Warfare, and I know that failed rocker Bif Naked wrote a rockin’ tune about you.


Spaceman oh spaceman, come rescue me!


No Spaceman, you’re the one that will need rescuing if the two of us end up crossing paths. Mutual respect or no, that doesn’t save you from the pure savagery I bring to a match. Just ask Cadryn or Engy, two guys tied for BFF status with me, and two guys I still put through the ringer. Engy walked away with the victory, but poor Cadryn was left questioning his entire life after his first run in with me. Good thing some Kings found him humorous, or else he may not be here today to help me carry these tag straps.


Now with that, I say this. See you boys at Leap of Faith and may the best man win. Winning this thing may take some luck, but I’m definitely going to do everything in my power to pile up the bodies on my way to a case, and if there’s anyone who I forgot to mention, just remember, it means that you suck so hard that I didn’t even remember you were in the match to begin with.

































Nah Petey, daddies just playing, I’d never forget you! I see that you think that my silence somehow questions my chances in this match. You know, for as long as you’ve been in this game, I’d think you’d have learned by now that just because your opponent takes a step back and waits for you to make an ass of yourself doesn’t mean that your chances are any better than they were prior. How many times have you faced someone who didn’t say a word all week, let you ramble on with your nonsensical bullshit until you effectively spoke circles around yourself, then popped in at the end just to point out that your a dumb fuck who despite his accomplishments and tenure, doesn’t understand the first thing about this business. Just like how you somehow seem to think that you may still be apart of Empire, or are you? Because trying to follow your thought process as you allow words to ooze out of your fat face like a watery diarrhea shit is nauseating. Seriously dude, do you even know what your saying when you go live? I’d dare say The Ultimate Warrior on a coke binge has a better shot of making a point than you do. Well allow me to make a point that’s not only valid, but indisputable. No matter who it is that walks out of LOF with the contract, it’ll never be you! 1000 Peter Gilmours could enter this match, and 1000 Peter Gilmours would go home empty handed. Peter vs Peter and they both still lose. You know how bad you gotta be for that to happen? Watch a tape of one of your match, or promos, or attempts at pleasing a woman. Super Dick? That would be the only thing super about you.


The Dark Warrior Micheal Graves, man of 1000 hiatuses. Still better than everyone else when I’m here, and guess what bitches?


I’m right here!”


]]>

The room is quiet, save for the creaking open of the front door. The door swings open and is promptly shut in a very gentle manner as the jingling of keys and and clacking of locks fill the air and abruptly fall to silence. All the while, the camera focuses in on a mismatched white phone on a black receiver on a large table. A red light is blinking, indicating that there are new messages on the answering machine. The air now echoes with footsteps and some sighs of relief as a male figure drops a few bags down on the floor and sets his keys and another small object on the counter. The footsteps grow ever closer from then on until a shadow of a long haired man plasters itself over the phone. His hand extends down to one of the button and his messages begin to play.

“You have 3 new messages...

Beep!

“Mikey!” A whiny and slightly effeminate voice echos. “It’s me, Cadryn! I just wanted to let you know that I spoke with Vinnie and told him that we’re all in to defend the tag titles at the next Warfare. I would have ran it by you first, but you’ve been a bit distant the last couple of weeks. What gives Gravy? Are you ok? I know you have a big opportunity at the pay per view and maybe you’re a little nervous about it. Don’t be, you’ve always had the ability to stand amongst the best around here and this, this is your opportunity to shine. Anyway, give me a call ya , K thx bye!”

Beep!

“Micheal, it’s me, well you… listen, you’re not going to remember this, but you need to know, you did something horrible. You didn’t mean to, it was… It just… listen, it doesn’t matter. You just need to hold it together when you find out. This shits going to hit you hard man, but remember, it wasn’t you that did it. Not really….

Beep!

“Hi honey, I’m just calling to tell you that I’m not going to make our date tonight. Some stuff came up with my mother, and I’m going to spend the evening with her. I’ll tell you more later, love you!”

“You have no more messages.”

Dark Warrior Micheal Graves
“What the fuck?”

Graves shakes his head in disbelief. That was definitely him on the phone, but he has no recollection of leaving that message. He thought he was past all of this shit. He’s been doing well for quite some time now. No psychotic outburst or split personality disorder at all, now suddenly there is a message on his answering machine that shares his voice and claims to be him, but definitely isn’t. Graves tries to let it go. It’s one time, if that was really him, he can reel it back in before things get out of hand. He’s sure of it. Though he is troubled by what he said to himself. What horrible thing did he do? The last time that this happened he attempted to molest an underaged Dolly Waters. Thankfully it can’t get much worse than that. Graves decides to flip on the TV. If nothing else it can serve as a distraction. Something to get his mind off of the troubling message that he just heard. The TV blinks on to a newscast already in progress.

“Police have released the names of the victims as Kourtni Perkins and Thomas Long. Their bodies were found at the Hillside Inn after guest complained to police about what sounded like a fight taking place in their room. There are currently no suspects, but police have identified the murder weapon as a katana sword.”

Graves is in shock, he tunes out the newscast as he rushes to his trophy room. The katana, the one he used as Wraith… its missing…

After awhile, the sobbing begins to transition into a heavy breathing as his emotions begin to intensify and morph from sadness and hopelessness to rage and seething hatred. With a terribly cry of anger, hatred, sorrow and despair, Graves clutches his hair tightly and lets out a roar. This is all his fault, this is what the message was about. He had finally found happiness, and it had been taken from him, by his own hand. Never mind the obvious fact that he caught her cheating on him with one other guy. He hasn’t even began to process that yet.

The camera cuts to black as the noises of the an object being picked up and hurled across the room accompany the painful howling. A large crashing and shattering commotion ensues and in the end, all that is heard is deep, animalistic breathing.

==========ITSA PROMO==========

Dark Warrior Micheal Graves

“Two weeks.


Two weeks that I’ve remained silent.


Two weeks that I’ve given my opponents opportunity to outshine me heading into Leap of Faith.


Two weeks that I’ve spent watching them all fail.


Robbie Bourbon came in hot trying to chap asses and get into everyone’s head early. Problem with that is, nobody fears Robbie Bourbon. Sure, there was a time when standing across the ring from that monster was an intimidating task, but that all disappeared when he shit the bed as Universal Champion and vanished from the XWF all together. The Robbie Bourbon that we have now just isn’t the same guy from before. Don’t take my word for it, just look at the facts. The dude went from a guy who wrecked me so hard, I found a whole new realm of crazy to live in, to a guy who couldn’t get the job done against Peter Gilmour and Chris Chaos when The Motherfuckers got their shot at the tag straps. Now sure, you can try and place blame on The War Pig for that loss, it was obvious that he wasn’t pulling his weight after all, but if Robbie was half the man he used to be, that wouldn’t have mattered. Just look to what happened when me and Cadryn got our shot, I picked up the slack and got us those titles! Cadryn played his role, but much like BWP, he definitely phoned it in. Not that it matters, I just needed a body to stand on the apron while I did work.


Next up we have Chris Chaos trying his damndest to sell us that same line of bullshit about him being the best, or the chosen one, or whatever the fuck he thinks he’s got going on that might just make him outshine me for once in his career. Chaos is nothing more than a tool who’s self opinion is higher than anyone in the world would ever give him credit for. You know all of those guys who are severely underrated in the world of sport? Well Chris Chaos is the exact opposite of that shit. The guy had one good run when he came in, and ever since then he’s been buying his own hype in bulk. Chaos, you suck! You’ve always sucked, and the fact that my over the hill ass has proven it to you every time we step into the ring together should be enough for you to finally get it, but alas, you’re also , but for a moment, let’s pretend that we live in a world where you actually do what you say for a change, a world where you aren’t the personification of suck. So you climb the ladder, repel across the area and take the leap. Luck is on your side this night, you open the case, it’s the contract. Chris Chaos now has a chance to use that contract to once again become Universal Champion. Except you’d probably fuck that up too! You’re the kinda guy who can be dealt a perfect hand, and still find a way lose everything and that’s exactly what would happen if you ended up trying to cash in on Engy. Of course, there is a chance that Engy doesn’t walk out of LOF with the title, but if Pestilence manages to defeat Engy, that’ll just mean there is yet another guy who’s managed to grow beyond you in a short time. That by the way Chris, is your biggest problem, the fact that you haven’t grown as a competitor at all since you first arrived. You peaked in your first few months here, and the rest of your career has been a downward spiral of empty promises and tough losses. Your that I spoke about earlier is further proven by the fact that you did what you did to Jim all those months ago, and yet you think that you’re going to continue to get away with it. The sands of your time in the XWF are slipping through the hourglass Chris…


You are not long for this world!


Which brings me to my former brother in arms, Robert Main.


When Cadryn and I won the Tag straps, I brought back the AX3 name and declared Cadryn the newest member. In case it went over anyone’s head, I was just goofing around and making a point that it doesn’t matter what name we worked under, we were winning the gold that night. However at Leap of Faith the world is going to see something truly awesome, because for one night only AX3 will reform to ensure that Chris Chaos gets what’s coming to him. Does that mean that Robert and I won’t fight? Does it mean that I’ll just let him go after a case without opposition? That’s a no on both accounts, but what it does mean is that if I see an opportunity to help my bud end Chris Chaos, I’ll take it!


Azrael, I have nothing bad to say about you either. Of course that’s largely to do with the fact that I hardly know of you to begin with. I know you were Bombshell champ, I know that Robert Main kicked your ass last Warfare, and I know that failed rocker Bif Naked wrote a rockin’ tune about you.


Spaceman oh spaceman, come rescue me!


No Spaceman, you’re the one that will need rescuing if the two of us end up crossing paths. Mutual respect or no, that doesn’t save you from the pure savagery I bring to a match. Just ask Cadryn or Engy, two guys tied for BFF status with me, and two guys I still put through the ringer. Engy walked away with the victory, but poor Cadryn was left questioning his entire life after his first run in with me. Good thing some Kings found him humorous, or else he may not be here today to help me carry these tag straps.


Now with that, I say this. See you boys at Leap of Faith and may the best man win. Winning this thing may take some luck, but I’m definitely going to do everything in my power to pile up the bodies on my way to a case, and if there’s anyone who I forgot to mention, just remember, it means that you suck so hard that I didn’t even remember you were in the match to begin with.

































Nah Petey, daddies just playing, I’d never forget you! I see that you think that my silence somehow questions my chances in this match. You know, for as long as you’ve been in this game, I’d think you’d have learned by now that just because your opponent takes a step back and waits for you to make an ass of yourself doesn’t mean that your chances are any better than they were prior. How many times have you faced someone who didn’t say a word all week, let you ramble on with your nonsensical bullshit until you effectively spoke circles around yourself, then popped in at the end just to point out that your a dumb fuck who despite his accomplishments and tenure, doesn’t understand the first thing about this business. Just like how you somehow seem to think that you may still be apart of Empire, or are you? Because trying to follow your thought process as you allow words to ooze out of your fat face like a watery diarrhea shit is nauseating. Seriously dude, do you even know what your saying when you go live? I’d dare say The Ultimate Warrior on a coke binge has a better shot of making a point than you do. Well allow me to make a point that’s not only valid, but indisputable. No matter who it is that walks out of LOF with the contract, it’ll never be you! 1000 Peter Gilmours could enter this match, and 1000 Peter Gilmours would go home empty handed. Peter vs Peter and they both still lose. You know how bad you gotta be for that to happen? Watch a tape of one of your match, or promos, or attempts at pleasing a woman. Super Dick? That would be the only thing super about you.


The Dark Warrior Micheal Graves, man of 1000 hiatuses. Still better than everyone else when I’m here, and guess what bitches?


I’m right here!”


]]> <![CDATA[Chapter VIII. War]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31897 Sat, 21 Jul 2018 20:51:04 -0700 Robert "The Omega" Main]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31897




This is single-handedly the worst time of year to watch sports! Baseball sucks, The World Cup finally finished, ugh, speaking of The World Cup. Finn, I bet you’re an enormous soccer fan. We already know you’re a mammoth prick! Now for the past few weeks, I would go down to my favorite watering hole “The Crop Duster” for taco Tuesday and what was on every fucking screen? Soccer! Where in the hell am I supposed to watch Jerry Springer? There isn’t an American that actually wants to watch soccer, its forced on us, watching it is like cheating on the homeland. Unchristian! Theses colors right here don’t run. Red, White and Blue through and through! If you watch soccer your as phony as Chris Chaos or a dick like Finn The Kaiser. More like the butt of the joke! A sport made for an ass hat like yourself Finn! I bet you couldn’t play proper sports, like smear the queer growing up. I do apologize that you weren’t blessed with the proper hand to eye coordination to do anything other than finger yourself. I, on the other hand, qualified to play Baseball and wrestle!



Let’s play a game where we wear oven mitts and stand there looking like we are waiting on public transportation that’s never going to come! What a joke! These soccer dicks! Everybody else on the field can’t score. There’s more flopping than LeBron James in the kiddie pool in Oakland, California! (Golden State)! Hell, much like a Finn promo you can take a nap and 6 hours later guess what? The point still isn’t driven home! Or his matches no one has won! Still a stalemate. Ouch! Hell, they don’t even have a halftime. We Americans invented halftime to drain the vein grab a cold beer and check the live feed on porn hub. You bunch of dumb asses play more and score less. There’s more scoring in the revenge of the nerd’s series than a soccer game. Well, wait a second something good did happen. In the game where Mexico….



The Spaniards beat the German team…..



Robert laughs to himself knowing what he just said is completely wrong just to disrespect Finn



Nothing like two third world countries fighting it out for some beans and rice. Heck, I heard when they beat the Germans, it damn near caused an earthquake! Big deal some Mexicans can make some noise! I’m surprised the entire country didn’t collapse from all the damn tunnels running drugs and helping El Chapo escape! Thank God, we haven’t built the Trump wall yet. Or we would have lost out foundation![/shadow]



Robert pauses for a moment



Finn how are you going to come to blows when you love a sport where you can’t even use your hands? Are you going to beat me to death with a standard deck of yellow cards? Dick! Here we are about to engage in armed conflict, the fight of fights, and you are nowhere to be found. I’m sure we’ll get the standard promo at some point, the short and sweet one and done deal were used to. That right there is the drawback with you Finn. You beat your chest, shouting at the top of your lungs that you are the next coming of Jesus in the ring, that you are the next stupendous wrestling star. Now the biggest match to date you have vanished into thin air, and not the cool Cadryn POOF! way! I went down to the Las Vegas sheriff’s office to report a missing person, they started the paperwork and asked for a name and as soon as I mentioned FINN KUHN they laughed me out the front door. Rude! I’m just trying to find you. So, I went another route. I got home picked up the phone and made a call to unsolved mysteries as soon as I mentioned your name. They hung the phone up. What The Fuck right? I tried calling back and got the busy tone. If they won’t take the case you know there’s a predicament!



But then I sat there smoked a Cuban Cigar and drank a bottle of bourbon. Just thinking, wondering where you could have gone. Maybe you were stowed away under your bed? So, I went out looking for the Mystery Machine and all of a sudden it hit me like a ton of bricks! Sure, I was drinking and driving, and on my motorcycle! But that’s beside the point! I didn’t need Scooby and the gang, Finn I figured it out all on my own! I didn’t need to go and climb to the top of the G.C.P.D. and flip the switch on the Bat signal. I didn’t need the world’s greatest detective. Little old me figured it out. See Finn when push comes to shove, you always disappear without a trace. When there is a match you know there is no chance in winning, finding you becomes a real-life game of where’s Waldo the edition!



Finn if you’re a good boy after the match is over I’ll give you a Scooby snack!



Robert tosses a bag of Scooby snacks at the camera laughing




The past two weeks you’ve been hiding from everyone view, you have been the best-kept secret. Hiding in the shadows like a coward! Face the facts kid! Look in the mirror, and when you do take a good long concentrated look. If you haven’t done it by now, it’s not in the cards. There is a simple term and it goes like this, “your just not good enough”. That right there is cutting to the quick my friend! You’ll never be what you profess you are. You don’t have the pork sword for this business. You talk a colossal game, hell we all do that’s part of it. When you walk through that curtain and make your way down the ramp you nose-dive! How many times have you promised success and broke down right after, missing the mark fizzling out? You have fallen flat so many times now, every word goes up in smoke. You meet disaster each and every time blundering away what you call a career! When the heat is on you can’t take it. You collapse under the pressure. Your legacy in this company will be one filled with what might have been. You are not the future of this company Finn not even close, not by a long shot! You’re looking at the future right here! I hope you’re ready for war kid because soon if you show up you’ll be smack dab in the middle of one!





Oh, and one last thing while I’m on the subject of flunkies. Finn I would have given you your own promo ripping you shreds but why bother? That’d be too much effort on my part, plus you’re not worth that amount of time! You've got to give more of an effort to draw any more attention from "The Omega"





When the crusade finally came it was David - vs - Goliath. This time around Goliath had all the playthings. It was no old-fashioned scuffle with the young! Robert sees himself as David. In a match filled with veterans of the trade. Each has been around the block a time or two. He understands whats at stake. In this match, Robert will have to smart bombs his targets strategically, surgically! One by one until no one is left standing. No amount of collateral damage was too much.



Azrael Erebus how you feeling after I made you scream bloody murder? I’m not trying to sell you down the river here. But I did beat your ass! I thought the spaceman didn’t feel agony? You sure as hell put on a good front. You would have surprised me if I didn’t know better! But speaking of you and space and all that other shit. The other day I overheard the news and low and behold we are sending bull sperm and human sperm into outer space. Nothing like sending our baby batter on a voyage to the great beyond. What happens if an astronaut breaks a beaker of that shit? Could you imagine? I guess you could, I’m sure you’ve been up close and personal with sperm before! MONEY SHOT! Anyway, you’d have sperm eggs floating around the cabin like albino caviar. Then what? Some guys day just got a hell of a lot harder. Imagine asking lower command to round up all the sperm eggs? They’d quit on the spot! Nothing like saying I quite in orbit! What if they couldn’t round them all up?



They could float away, out into the great abyss and impregnate half the universe. This has got to stop right now before disaster strikes. I’ll put in a call to NASA and tell them I have a better way to transport sperm. That’d be you Azrael! Nine times out of ten you have the éclair injected into your backside anyway! You could do them a real solid traveling through space rump caring a full load. I just solved another one. Maybe I’ll solve world hunger next and tell absolutely no one! I could never send my sperm into space, hell I’m not even in the mile-high club because there isn’t enough leg room to finish. The highest my sperm has ever gotten was on top a roller coaster six flags.



Me and my girlfriend at the time were stopped right before you go down the first hill. Power outage or some shit. We waited there for an hour. So, we decided to take advantage of the situation. It timed out perfectly. The cars started rolling down the hill just as I reached my own climax if you know what I mean. Once we came back in the workers weren’t happy. I tried my best to clean everything up with one of those park maps, all that did was just smear it all over the place. One lady in the car behind us puked. So, they tried to kick us out of the park for lude behavior. I told them right to their face, you said keep your hands and feet inside the car at all times! You didn’t say a word about my manhood! They backed down. What dicks! Anyway, so we go to another amusement park some little shit one someplace in California…. What was it? Oh yeah, Disney!



Like clockwork, we got stuck on a coaster again so she gave me a handy. The problem was the cars started moving before I was ready to blow my baby gravy, we hit a corkscrew and by the time I discharged my weapon at the top of the corkscrew and we hit the bottom I got an earful of my own nutter butter. True story by the way. So, a few days go by and that ear starts bothering me. I go to the doctor, he dicks around looking in my ear and after a few seconds he looks me dead in the eyes and diagnoses me with swimmer’s ear!



As warfare becomes more advanced those who decide to extinguish the life of others remain isolated from the horror. Only the ones on ground level see the blood, guts, the dead. Each stacked up like trash their bodies lined up like fallen domino's.



Now back to the spaceman or whatever you claim to be! While I appreciate the good gesture with you saying I deserve this. Because you are one hundred percent right I do deserve this. More so than any other man or whatever the fuck you are in this match. I have laid down nearly an entire roster and have yet to get one shot at the [red[Universal Championhip[/red] I’m not sure if I’m blacklisted or what! I’ve done everything. I’ll never go stroke Vinny begging like a certain leader of an Empire You can count the number of times I’ve lost on one hand and not use all your fingers. It pisses me off when I get overlooked, but after this thing is through. That right there won’t happen anymore. I’ll take Chris Chaos down first! Then wade my way through a shit storm and make my leap. I do agree though watching Chaos struggle against Engy would be quite humorous, but why even give him that opportunity. He’s had a multitude of shots squandering each one of them away!



Azrael! I don’t have a problem with you. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. I enjoy watching your promos and listening to what you broadcast. It’s interesting, it’s refreshing and fun all wrapped up with a transgendered bow! Keep doing what you are doing.






But…. Cross me in this match and I’ll pulverize you into dust like I did a few weeks ago. At any moment in our match, I could have broken you into smithereens. I wanted to see how far you would push and you know what you didn’t disappoint. I hate to shatter your dreams here, but you won’t come close to grabbing a case. I’ll demolish each and every one of you if I have to, pounding your bones into a fine powder. Just stay out of the way. Move aside when you see me coming, there are no rules don’t make me make mincemeat of you. Last year I laid waste to the entire event. Hell, I brought the house down with a sledgehammer literally! And as far as that favor I owe you. Climb up in the rafters and I’ll give you that favor! I’ll toss your ass to the concrete floor below putting you out of commission. I’d really like to see a spaceman go splat!



War was always problematic. People just didn't want to engage in combat. But what was the alternative? We all need to be educated on why the enemy is bad and fear that they or their families will personally suffer if action isn't taken.



This is the worst part, trying to convey a message to Peter Gilmour! Getting this man to understand something drops my I.Q. and gives me a headache all at the same time. Maybe if I got out some sidewalk chalk or crayons and drew a picture then he would understand. No wait…. I’d have to stop him from shoving the sidewalk chalk up his ass and the crayons up his nose. Although shoving crayons up Peter's nose would be entertaining and couldn’t hurt. It helped Homer Simpson after all. Peter is already underdeveloped and mentally defective! A lame-brained dimwit. Okay, here we go! Peter this is my attempt to get through to you!



Robert smiles at the camera waving and talking like he is speaking to a small child



Hi there Peter my name is Robert. Now I need you to do me a great big favor okay? Can you do that for me, little buddy? Can you be a big boy? I'll give you a Scooby snack like Finn. Now I need you to sit and try to be real still. So let's try to put our listening ears on. Can we do that? Okay!



Robert places his hands on his hips and sighs



I just can’t! Peter if you can ever find it in your Hart please just do us all a giant favor and just shut the hell up. Our bleeding ears could use a break, it’s like listening to a man-child just more slow-witted. Maybe I’ve just knocked you around one too many times and I gave you some kind of permeate brain trauma. Or and I like this idea better! Did Chaos maybe just knock your melon off the headboard of the bed too many times when he had your legs pinned behind your ears. I guess you really did have “the Chaos inside of you"! There are literally dumbbells in the guy smarter than you Peter. Listen lamebrain just give the bull shit cycle a rest. I’ve seen monkeys at the zoo have more organized shit throwing fights than your promos. Just stop before you injure yourself in the process of trying to utter another sentence!



Robert places his palm to his face shaking his head



The so-called Hart Champion That right there for instance, what in the fuck is that even supposed to mean. I am Champion dumb ass. Do you even try to comprehend what you are saying? You read my last promo? How did you manage that? No, tell me really! I shot it in front of a camera! Jesus Christ! Come on man use a little bit of brain power here. Just a tad. The last five years of your career have been shit. Tell me what you have done lately besides have Chaos drag your underachieving ass across the finish line in that tag title match? Who gives a shit what you did in 2013 this is 2018 dickhead! We are talking the right now not 2014. The time you are talking about was when XWF was on the brink of disaster. The roster was underwhelming. You were the Champion of nobodies! There was no one here Peter to challenge you. That’s why you have those accolades. Just take a meander back when this place started getting real talent again. Peter Gilmour dropped off the face of the Earth! Gone! Since then you have been a nobody, a floater, just drifting!



There is one thing that you did say that was correct. The first time I have ever heard you say anything with any merit. We should have a party that you actually said something worthwhile. Balloons and cake the whole nine yards! My reign as Hart Champion will undoubtedly come to an end. It’s guaranteed no one stays Champion forever. So, go ahead and wish upon a star, get a lucky rabbit's foot and cram a horseshoe up your ass. It won’t be Peter Gilmour that stops my reign as Champion. No there is only one man that can stop my reign. His name is ROBERT MAIN! This part isn’t that hard to figure out Peter after I win at Leap of Faith and I will win. I’ll challenge for the Universal Championship I’ll win it and in that moment where I do win the Universal Championship. My reign as the very best Hart Champion will come to a close. Not you, not anyone else will end my reign! That’s how this is all going to play out. Am I going to have to kill Chaos? Gladly! That’s all part of the plan, and I know you won’t go down without a fight Peter you never do, but you will go down! You’ll bend at the knee or like you always have, or I’ll make you!



So, keep believing you are the “FACE” of the company Peter keep bleeding those buckets of blood, getting your ass handed to you week in and week out. It’s done you wonders recently let me tell ya! So, fight until your last breath, hell asphyxiate yourself for all I care, you’d be doing the world a grand favor. Come slap the smirk off my face Peter it’s worked out so well for you in the past. I’ve neutralized you before I’ll do it again!



Robert places the Hart Championship over his shoulder becoming more serious



Peter at one moment you are going to smack me in the face and the next moment you’re playing let’s make a deal which one is it. I’m just telling you that Chris Chaos used you. That’s all. I’m saying you should want him to pay. Peter whether or not you decide to take him out in the match is of your own choosing. But chew on this for a moment. What if Chris uses you again in this match to gain what he wants, taking away your golden opportunity. How many more chances are you going to get at greatness before it's all over Peter? You cannot say I didn’t tell you! You should want to cut the head off the snake that screwed you over! I’ll tell you what.......



Peter I am a man of my word. You help me take Chris Chaos out of the picture. I’ll team with you! I’ll help you get that sixth Tag Team Championship! I'll give you a shot at the Universal Championship! Hell, I'll hand the Hart Championship over to you! What do you have to lose? I don't break promises, when have I ever told you something that was not true? Or didn't happen! That right there is the proof in the pudding! What I say is what I do Peter! You can take this for whatever you decide it’s worth. Or wind up a greasy spot at Leap Of Faith!






With each bullet fired over the past two weeks Robert really didn't feel anything. His brain just shut down over time. He hadn't I stopped for a moment to consider how awful this war was going to be. The bombs will fall killing one by one. But that is war. You fight and win or you die.



Chris Chaos fun fact! You've faced Jim how many times? Five? Losing each encounter? Do you know how many times it took me to beat Jim in the ring? Or did you even know I faced him you jackass? I guess in your reality I've never faced anyone worth a damn. It took me one time! Once! Look it up! I'm one of the very few to pin him down to the canvas one, two, three! One try! First time. I didn't bleed myself out, there was no bell I could not answer. No excuses. I went into the match and beat his ass like a drum. I didn't need a second, third, fourth or fifth try. I took him down on the first go around. So why jump into this match head first? Why bother? To be a pain in your ass Chris! To take your little plan and turn it upside down.



To watch you squirm. Your tragic fate is looking clearer than ever before. Chris I want you to know that as long as one man stands in your path you cannot claim victory for your own. I am that man Chaos! Whether it is at Leap Of Faith or not. I will continue to come after you until one of us is no more. I'm no Finn I keep my promises! You seem to think that you've built an Empire, the problem is one cannot be built upon a foundation of lies. The only embarrassment walking into this thing is you Chris Chaos. But look at it this way once I end your career maybe you and Jenny could join the bachelorette. NO scratch that. After the first go-round with Jenny the producers would be passing out Valtrex, icy hot and WD-40 just to cool the burn.



You beat Drew down? Shit, I thought you sent Black to do it. Oh, wait a second you did. Not even you can keep the fucking story straight. You want to rain on my title reign that's fine Chris Chaos my question is this where were you to defend against? If you were this real competition you would have showed up and played ball. If my title is second-rate what's that make the Television Championship you held? Dare I say third rate? The last time I was in the main event, by the way, was two weeks ago cock gobbler. I know you were out there busting your balls against guys like Griffin MacAlister!



Robert looks shocked for a moment




Wait a second! Who in the fuck is that guy anyway? Where did we find him? Cooking fries at Burger king? What a murderous row of brawlers you've faced! Tell me how you remained Champion so long in that cutthroat division. Is that guy still even employed? Or how about Kenneth "Boobie" Williams? Real savage right there. Watch out guys Chris has been facing murders! 'I'm shitting my pants right now! Here's a good one Mezian the same guy you bashed me for facing. Ever heard of a fucking contradiction? You've literally have faced the who's who's of nobodies and you give me shit? You have faced no one, at least the guys I did face were former Champions. The guys you faced were off the street looking for a job



See because you faced them it makes them better right Chris? Every word that leaves your mouth you have to self-justify because even you know its bull shit. You have nothing but a Empire of shit. You winning the Universal Championship was a fluke! A modern-day farce, you could not beat me on my worst day. Then N.A.I.Z strolls in teaches you a history lesson beats your ass and all of a sudden he's a member of the degenerate club? You can keep blowing all the smoke you'd like Chris. Everyone knows the truth. You are one lie away from forgetting who you are.



Wars rip people from one another, they turn them into monsters. Wars put barricades between brothers and sisters alike. They railroad people into becoming psychotic. They make people look over their shoulder in safe places. What most don’t realize though is that wars are fought every day in every place imaginable. They strike hard and fast in the places people feel impregnable. They shred strength and expose vulnerability.



Come Leap Of Faith I will come face to face with the terrible! I'll clutch my sword tightly. Anger will burn in my in my eyes. Every time I look down at my sword whatever it may be at that time. Chair, sledgehammer, led pipe or my very own two fists. I will remember all the remorse that brought me here, and it will fuel me! I will fight like the devil devoid of sympathy, crushing each of you one by one. I want revenge. I'm thirsty for blood. After the smoke settles, the bloodshed and cries of pain stop. I will walk away mercilessly with the case and my revenge letting each of you all rot!



The thing about war isn't about who started it. Who's right or wrong. It's about.................
















WHO'S LEFT IN THE END!

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This is single-handedly the worst time of year to watch sports! Baseball sucks, The World Cup finally finished, ugh, speaking of The World Cup. Finn, I bet you’re an enormous soccer fan. We already know you’re a mammoth prick! Now for the past few weeks, I would go down to my favorite watering hole “The Crop Duster” for taco Tuesday and what was on every fucking screen? Soccer! Where in the hell am I supposed to watch Jerry Springer? There isn’t an American that actually wants to watch soccer, its forced on us, watching it is like cheating on the homeland. Unchristian! Theses colors right here don’t run. Red, White and Blue through and through! If you watch soccer your as phony as Chris Chaos or a dick like Finn The Kaiser. More like the butt of the joke! A sport made for an ass hat like yourself Finn! I bet you couldn’t play proper sports, like smear the queer growing up. I do apologize that you weren’t blessed with the proper hand to eye coordination to do anything other than finger yourself. I, on the other hand, qualified to play Baseball and wrestle!



Let’s play a game where we wear oven mitts and stand there looking like we are waiting on public transportation that’s never going to come! What a joke! These soccer dicks! Everybody else on the field can’t score. There’s more flopping than LeBron James in the kiddie pool in Oakland, California! (Golden State)! Hell, much like a Finn promo you can take a nap and 6 hours later guess what? The point still isn’t driven home! Or his matches no one has won! Still a stalemate. Ouch! Hell, they don’t even have a halftime. We Americans invented halftime to drain the vein grab a cold beer and check the live feed on porn hub. You bunch of dumb asses play more and score less. There’s more scoring in the revenge of the nerd’s series than a soccer game. Well, wait a second something good did happen. In the game where Mexico….



The Spaniards beat the German team…..



Robert laughs to himself knowing what he just said is completely wrong just to disrespect Finn



Nothing like two third world countries fighting it out for some beans and rice. Heck, I heard when they beat the Germans, it damn near caused an earthquake! Big deal some Mexicans can make some noise! I’m surprised the entire country didn’t collapse from all the damn tunnels running drugs and helping El Chapo escape! Thank God, we haven’t built the Trump wall yet. Or we would have lost out foundation![/shadow]



Robert pauses for a moment



Finn how are you going to come to blows when you love a sport where you can’t even use your hands? Are you going to beat me to death with a standard deck of yellow cards? Dick! Here we are about to engage in armed conflict, the fight of fights, and you are nowhere to be found. I’m sure we’ll get the standard promo at some point, the short and sweet one and done deal were used to. That right there is the drawback with you Finn. You beat your chest, shouting at the top of your lungs that you are the next coming of Jesus in the ring, that you are the next stupendous wrestling star. Now the biggest match to date you have vanished into thin air, and not the cool Cadryn POOF! way! I went down to the Las Vegas sheriff’s office to report a missing person, they started the paperwork and asked for a name and as soon as I mentioned FINN KUHN they laughed me out the front door. Rude! I’m just trying to find you. So, I went another route. I got home picked up the phone and made a call to unsolved mysteries as soon as I mentioned your name. They hung the phone up. What The Fuck right? I tried calling back and got the busy tone. If they won’t take the case you know there’s a predicament!



But then I sat there smoked a Cuban Cigar and drank a bottle of bourbon. Just thinking, wondering where you could have gone. Maybe you were stowed away under your bed? So, I went out looking for the Mystery Machine and all of a sudden it hit me like a ton of bricks! Sure, I was drinking and driving, and on my motorcycle! But that’s beside the point! I didn’t need Scooby and the gang, Finn I figured it out all on my own! I didn’t need to go and climb to the top of the G.C.P.D. and flip the switch on the Bat signal. I didn’t need the world’s greatest detective. Little old me figured it out. See Finn when push comes to shove, you always disappear without a trace. When there is a match you know there is no chance in winning, finding you becomes a real-life game of where’s Waldo the edition!



Finn if you’re a good boy after the match is over I’ll give you a Scooby snack!



Robert tosses a bag of Scooby snacks at the camera laughing




The past two weeks you’ve been hiding from everyone view, you have been the best-kept secret. Hiding in the shadows like a coward! Face the facts kid! Look in the mirror, and when you do take a good long concentrated look. If you haven’t done it by now, it’s not in the cards. There is a simple term and it goes like this, “your just not good enough”. That right there is cutting to the quick my friend! You’ll never be what you profess you are. You don’t have the pork sword for this business. You talk a colossal game, hell we all do that’s part of it. When you walk through that curtain and make your way down the ramp you nose-dive! How many times have you promised success and broke down right after, missing the mark fizzling out? You have fallen flat so many times now, every word goes up in smoke. You meet disaster each and every time blundering away what you call a career! When the heat is on you can’t take it. You collapse under the pressure. Your legacy in this company will be one filled with what might have been. You are not the future of this company Finn not even close, not by a long shot! You’re looking at the future right here! I hope you’re ready for war kid because soon if you show up you’ll be smack dab in the middle of one!





Oh, and one last thing while I’m on the subject of flunkies. Finn I would have given you your own promo ripping you shreds but why bother? That’d be too much effort on my part, plus you’re not worth that amount of time! You've got to give more of an effort to draw any more attention from "The Omega"





When the crusade finally came it was David - vs - Goliath. This time around Goliath had all the playthings. It was no old-fashioned scuffle with the young! Robert sees himself as David. In a match filled with veterans of the trade. Each has been around the block a time or two. He understands whats at stake. In this match, Robert will have to smart bombs his targets strategically, surgically! One by one until no one is left standing. No amount of collateral damage was too much.



Azrael Erebus how you feeling after I made you scream bloody murder? I’m not trying to sell you down the river here. But I did beat your ass! I thought the spaceman didn’t feel agony? You sure as hell put on a good front. You would have surprised me if I didn’t know better! But speaking of you and space and all that other shit. The other day I overheard the news and low and behold we are sending bull sperm and human sperm into outer space. Nothing like sending our baby batter on a voyage to the great beyond. What happens if an astronaut breaks a beaker of that shit? Could you imagine? I guess you could, I’m sure you’ve been up close and personal with sperm before! MONEY SHOT! Anyway, you’d have sperm eggs floating around the cabin like albino caviar. Then what? Some guys day just got a hell of a lot harder. Imagine asking lower command to round up all the sperm eggs? They’d quit on the spot! Nothing like saying I quite in orbit! What if they couldn’t round them all up?



They could float away, out into the great abyss and impregnate half the universe. This has got to stop right now before disaster strikes. I’ll put in a call to NASA and tell them I have a better way to transport sperm. That’d be you Azrael! Nine times out of ten you have the éclair injected into your backside anyway! You could do them a real solid traveling through space rump caring a full load. I just solved another one. Maybe I’ll solve world hunger next and tell absolutely no one! I could never send my sperm into space, hell I’m not even in the mile-high club because there isn’t enough leg room to finish. The highest my sperm has ever gotten was on top a roller coaster six flags.



Me and my girlfriend at the time were stopped right before you go down the first hill. Power outage or some shit. We waited there for an hour. So, we decided to take advantage of the situation. It timed out perfectly. The cars started rolling down the hill just as I reached my own climax if you know what I mean. Once we came back in the workers weren’t happy. I tried my best to clean everything up with one of those park maps, all that did was just smear it all over the place. One lady in the car behind us puked. So, they tried to kick us out of the park for lude behavior. I told them right to their face, you said keep your hands and feet inside the car at all times! You didn’t say a word about my manhood! They backed down. What dicks! Anyway, so we go to another amusement park some little shit one someplace in California…. What was it? Oh yeah, Disney!



Like clockwork, we got stuck on a coaster again so she gave me a handy. The problem was the cars started moving before I was ready to blow my baby gravy, we hit a corkscrew and by the time I discharged my weapon at the top of the corkscrew and we hit the bottom I got an earful of my own nutter butter. True story by the way. So, a few days go by and that ear starts bothering me. I go to the doctor, he dicks around looking in my ear and after a few seconds he looks me dead in the eyes and diagnoses me with swimmer’s ear!



As warfare becomes more advanced those who decide to extinguish the life of others remain isolated from the horror. Only the ones on ground level see the blood, guts, the dead. Each stacked up like trash their bodies lined up like fallen domino's.



Now back to the spaceman or whatever you claim to be! While I appreciate the good gesture with you saying I deserve this. Because you are one hundred percent right I do deserve this. More so than any other man or whatever the fuck you are in this match. I have laid down nearly an entire roster and have yet to get one shot at the [red[Universal Championhip[/red] I’m not sure if I’m blacklisted or what! I’ve done everything. I’ll never go stroke Vinny begging like a certain leader of an Empire You can count the number of times I’ve lost on one hand and not use all your fingers. It pisses me off when I get overlooked, but after this thing is through. That right there won’t happen anymore. I’ll take Chris Chaos down first! Then wade my way through a shit storm and make my leap. I do agree though watching Chaos struggle against Engy would be quite humorous, but why even give him that opportunity. He’s had a multitude of shots squandering each one of them away!



Azrael! I don’t have a problem with you. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. I enjoy watching your promos and listening to what you broadcast. It’s interesting, it’s refreshing and fun all wrapped up with a transgendered bow! Keep doing what you are doing.






But…. Cross me in this match and I’ll pulverize you into dust like I did a few weeks ago. At any moment in our match, I could have broken you into smithereens. I wanted to see how far you would push and you know what you didn’t disappoint. I hate to shatter your dreams here, but you won’t come close to grabbing a case. I’ll demolish each and every one of you if I have to, pounding your bones into a fine powder. Just stay out of the way. Move aside when you see me coming, there are no rules don’t make me make mincemeat of you. Last year I laid waste to the entire event. Hell, I brought the house down with a sledgehammer literally! And as far as that favor I owe you. Climb up in the rafters and I’ll give you that favor! I’ll toss your ass to the concrete floor below putting you out of commission. I’d really like to see a spaceman go splat!



War was always problematic. People just didn't want to engage in combat. But what was the alternative? We all need to be educated on why the enemy is bad and fear that they or their families will personally suffer if action isn't taken.



This is the worst part, trying to convey a message to Peter Gilmour! Getting this man to understand something drops my I.Q. and gives me a headache all at the same time. Maybe if I got out some sidewalk chalk or crayons and drew a picture then he would understand. No wait…. I’d have to stop him from shoving the sidewalk chalk up his ass and the crayons up his nose. Although shoving crayons up Peter's nose would be entertaining and couldn’t hurt. It helped Homer Simpson after all. Peter is already underdeveloped and mentally defective! A lame-brained dimwit. Okay, here we go! Peter this is my attempt to get through to you!



Robert smiles at the camera waving and talking like he is speaking to a small child



Hi there Peter my name is Robert. Now I need you to do me a great big favor okay? Can you do that for me, little buddy? Can you be a big boy? I'll give you a Scooby snack like Finn. Now I need you to sit and try to be real still. So let's try to put our listening ears on. Can we do that? Okay!



Robert places his hands on his hips and sighs



I just can’t! Peter if you can ever find it in your Hart please just do us all a giant favor and just shut the hell up. Our bleeding ears could use a break, it’s like listening to a man-child just more slow-witted. Maybe I’ve just knocked you around one too many times and I gave you some kind of permeate brain trauma. Or and I like this idea better! Did Chaos maybe just knock your melon off the headboard of the bed too many times when he had your legs pinned behind your ears. I guess you really did have “the Chaos inside of you"! There are literally dumbbells in the guy smarter than you Peter. Listen lamebrain just give the bull shit cycle a rest. I’ve seen monkeys at the zoo have more organized shit throwing fights than your promos. Just stop before you injure yourself in the process of trying to utter another sentence!



Robert places his palm to his face shaking his head



The so-called Hart Champion That right there for instance, what in the fuck is that even supposed to mean. I am Champion dumb ass. Do you even try to comprehend what you are saying? You read my last promo? How did you manage that? No, tell me really! I shot it in front of a camera! Jesus Christ! Come on man use a little bit of brain power here. Just a tad. The last five years of your career have been shit. Tell me what you have done lately besides have Chaos drag your underachieving ass across the finish line in that tag title match? Who gives a shit what you did in 2013 this is 2018 dickhead! We are talking the right now not 2014. The time you are talking about was when XWF was on the brink of disaster. The roster was underwhelming. You were the Champion of nobodies! There was no one here Peter to challenge you. That’s why you have those accolades. Just take a meander back when this place started getting real talent again. Peter Gilmour dropped off the face of the Earth! Gone! Since then you have been a nobody, a floater, just drifting!



There is one thing that you did say that was correct. The first time I have ever heard you say anything with any merit. We should have a party that you actually said something worthwhile. Balloons and cake the whole nine yards! My reign as Hart Champion will undoubtedly come to an end. It’s guaranteed no one stays Champion forever. So, go ahead and wish upon a star, get a lucky rabbit's foot and cram a horseshoe up your ass. It won’t be Peter Gilmour that stops my reign as Champion. No there is only one man that can stop my reign. His name is ROBERT MAIN! This part isn’t that hard to figure out Peter after I win at Leap of Faith and I will win. I’ll challenge for the Universal Championship I’ll win it and in that moment where I do win the Universal Championship. My reign as the very best Hart Champion will come to a close. Not you, not anyone else will end my reign! That’s how this is all going to play out. Am I going to have to kill Chaos? Gladly! That’s all part of the plan, and I know you won’t go down without a fight Peter you never do, but you will go down! You’ll bend at the knee or like you always have, or I’ll make you!



So, keep believing you are the “FACE” of the company Peter keep bleeding those buckets of blood, getting your ass handed to you week in and week out. It’s done you wonders recently let me tell ya! So, fight until your last breath, hell asphyxiate yourself for all I care, you’d be doing the world a grand favor. Come slap the smirk off my face Peter it’s worked out so well for you in the past. I’ve neutralized you before I’ll do it again!



Robert places the Hart Championship over his shoulder becoming more serious



Peter at one moment you are going to smack me in the face and the next moment you’re playing let’s make a deal which one is it. I’m just telling you that Chris Chaos used you. That’s all. I’m saying you should want him to pay. Peter whether or not you decide to take him out in the match is of your own choosing. But chew on this for a moment. What if Chris uses you again in this match to gain what he wants, taking away your golden opportunity. How many more chances are you going to get at greatness before it's all over Peter? You cannot say I didn’t tell you! You should want to cut the head off the snake that screwed you over! I’ll tell you what.......



Peter I am a man of my word. You help me take Chris Chaos out of the picture. I’ll team with you! I’ll help you get that sixth Tag Team Championship! I'll give you a shot at the Universal Championship! Hell, I'll hand the Hart Championship over to you! What do you have to lose? I don't break promises, when have I ever told you something that was not true? Or didn't happen! That right there is the proof in the pudding! What I say is what I do Peter! You can take this for whatever you decide it’s worth. Or wind up a greasy spot at Leap Of Faith!






With each bullet fired over the past two weeks Robert really didn't feel anything. His brain just shut down over time. He hadn't I stopped for a moment to consider how awful this war was going to be. The bombs will fall killing one by one. But that is war. You fight and win or you die.



Chris Chaos fun fact! You've faced Jim how many times? Five? Losing each encounter? Do you know how many times it took me to beat Jim in the ring? Or did you even know I faced him you jackass? I guess in your reality I've never faced anyone worth a damn. It took me one time! Once! Look it up! I'm one of the very few to pin him down to the canvas one, two, three! One try! First time. I didn't bleed myself out, there was no bell I could not answer. No excuses. I went into the match and beat his ass like a drum. I didn't need a second, third, fourth or fifth try. I took him down on the first go around. So why jump into this match head first? Why bother? To be a pain in your ass Chris! To take your little plan and turn it upside down.



To watch you squirm. Your tragic fate is looking clearer than ever before. Chris I want you to know that as long as one man stands in your path you cannot claim victory for your own. I am that man Chaos! Whether it is at Leap Of Faith or not. I will continue to come after you until one of us is no more. I'm no Finn I keep my promises! You seem to think that you've built an Empire, the problem is one cannot be built upon a foundation of lies. The only embarrassment walking into this thing is you Chris Chaos. But look at it this way once I end your career maybe you and Jenny could join the bachelorette. NO scratch that. After the first go-round with Jenny the producers would be passing out Valtrex, icy hot and WD-40 just to cool the burn.



You beat Drew down? Shit, I thought you sent Black to do it. Oh, wait a second you did. Not even you can keep the fucking story straight. You want to rain on my title reign that's fine Chris Chaos my question is this where were you to defend against? If you were this real competition you would have showed up and played ball. If my title is second-rate what's that make the Television Championship you held? Dare I say third rate? The last time I was in the main event, by the way, was two weeks ago cock gobbler. I know you were out there busting your balls against guys like Griffin MacAlister!



Robert looks shocked for a moment




Wait a second! Who in the fuck is that guy anyway? Where did we find him? Cooking fries at Burger king? What a murderous row of brawlers you've faced! Tell me how you remained Champion so long in that cutthroat division. Is that guy still even employed? Or how about Kenneth "Boobie" Williams? Real savage right there. Watch out guys Chris has been facing murders! 'I'm shitting my pants right now! Here's a good one Mezian the same guy you bashed me for facing. Ever heard of a fucking contradiction? You've literally have faced the who's who's of nobodies and you give me shit? You have faced no one, at least the guys I did face were former Champions. The guys you faced were off the street looking for a job



See because you faced them it makes them better right Chris? Every word that leaves your mouth you have to self-justify because even you know its bull shit. You have nothing but a Empire of shit. You winning the Universal Championship was a fluke! A modern-day farce, you could not beat me on my worst day. Then N.A.I.Z strolls in teaches you a history lesson beats your ass and all of a sudden he's a member of the degenerate club? You can keep blowing all the smoke you'd like Chris. Everyone knows the truth. You are one lie away from forgetting who you are.



Wars rip people from one another, they turn them into monsters. Wars put barricades between brothers and sisters alike. They railroad people into becoming psychotic. They make people look over their shoulder in safe places. What most don’t realize though is that wars are fought every day in every place imaginable. They strike hard and fast in the places people feel impregnable. They shred strength and expose vulnerability.



Come Leap Of Faith I will come face to face with the terrible! I'll clutch my sword tightly. Anger will burn in my in my eyes. Every time I look down at my sword whatever it may be at that time. Chair, sledgehammer, led pipe or my very own two fists. I will remember all the remorse that brought me here, and it will fuel me! I will fight like the devil devoid of sympathy, crushing each of you one by one. I want revenge. I'm thirsty for blood. After the smoke settles, the bloodshed and cries of pain stop. I will walk away mercilessly with the case and my revenge letting each of you all rot!



The thing about war isn't about who started it. Who's right or wrong. It's about.................
















WHO'S LEFT IN THE END!

]]> <![CDATA[I Thought About Killing You]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31894 Sat, 21 Jul 2018 11:28:44 -0700 Isabel Mercier]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31894
You'd only care enough to kill somebody you love.
So, I told XWF management to book me as a wrestler — being sure to bring attention to the fact that I literally don't know how to wrestle — and they actually did it. The absolute madmen. Not that I'm honestly surprised. The only reason I even bothered with this little experiment in the first place was to prove a point: XWF management just wants bodies for the meat grinder. They don't give a shit whether any of the people they throw to the wolves know what they're doing, just that they're there.

I have to say though, that the match they booked me in did come as a bit of a shock. I'm not a wrestler, I've never even been in a fight, and yet I have the opportunity to become a champion in my professional wrestling debut. Isn't that mental? That I can just drop in all willy-nilly and get afforded the same opportunity as Jessalyn Hart on her little redemption tour. Jeez, Arzegotti wishes he could so thoroughly bury someone else's feel good story.

Don't worry, Jessalyn. I wouldn't dare steal your moment from you. Hell, I may not even make it to the arena. Why would I? I don't know how to wrestle and I have no desire to fluke my way into winning a belt that was created to satiate Jenny Myst's inferiority-superiority complex. I bet they can't even get her stench off the damn thing — which, considering I've never been in the same room as the nerd, I can only assume smells like soiled bedsheets and salt.

So I guess this whole thing, in a roundabout way, is an apology. I'm sorry, Nyx. I'm sorry, Jessalyn. Oh, listen to me talk. I'm apologizing for something that really isn't my fault in the first place.

Hey, Nyx. I got a question for you, hunty. How does it feel being the champion of a division so fucking niche that they had to throw in a non-wrestler just to alleviate the tedium of a rematch no one asked for? It's a shame that this belt even exists, isn't it? A real short-sighted hotshotting decision, but of course hindsight is 20/20 and here we are. Doing the song and dance routine. I suppose if I were really coming for your throat, this is the part where I drag you through the mud. Where I tell you that I despise you and everything you stand for. That I'm going to penetrate you with my boot or some other edgy dreck.

I'm not going to do that. I feel that maybe, the fact that we're having this conversation is the most damaging blow I can throw in this little exchange of words. I don't take you for some raving, arrogant loon, but if you were all I'd have to do is play the not-a-wrestler card like my name was Supa Hot Fire and knock the wind right out of your sails. Face it, hunty, you're Isabella Ravenwolf but better. And while that's a compliment (I guess), it does little to mitigate the fact that your biggest defense to date is against the same gremlin looking not-a-dyke™ you've already beaten and someone who's never been in a physical confrontation in her life.

I'm going to keep highlighting that second point because I'm making a point.

That has to sting, doesn't it? Knowing that perpetual choke artist Jenny Myst has a match deemed more important than yours? Any competitor has to take that as a slight. Hell, if you were my client I'd be mad for you. Honestly, I'm already mad for you without any kind of professional relationship.

It sucks, but those are the breaks.

Switching gears a bit, hey Jessalyn.

Is this what you wanted? What you've been begging for? My mouth is open and my focus is on you. Do you want me to exhume your skeletons, show I've done my homework, and that I know more about you than you do me? Is this what you've been begging for?

Do you need me to bring up that you're like, 0 for 3 when it comes to Bombshell title shots? You've choked away so many undeserved opportunities, I'm not entirely unconvinced that you're just Jenny Myst in drag. But you know that, don't you? That's what this whole redemption arc is about, right?

You finally doing the thing. And you look at me and you see a threat to that narrative, don't you? That's why you're so concerned about what Nyx and I are doing, isn't it? Has to be, otherwise you're just nosy and that's pretty fucking rude all things considered.

Don't worry, Jessie. I'm not your enemy. I'm not a threat. At least, not physically. But, think about it, girl. What if you pull this one off? What if I actually come down to the ring and you batter me senseless before pinning me and taking what you feel is rightfully yours?

Can't you hear it already? You beat the girl who could barely defend herself, yadda yadda. You wouldn't have the credibility of a champion. And while you can puff out your chest and act like that wouldn't faze you, we both know it would.

And remember, they deemed me worthy of the same opportunity you got.

So, let me do you a solid, and remove myself from the equation. I'll just stand there, and I won't bother you. Or Nyx. I'll let you two have the rematch you two ought to have because this belt means about as much to me as it does to XWF management.

See ya, girls.

(Oh and also if you ever want representation so you can avoid booking scenarios like this in the future, you know who to call. Look at what I've been able to secure for Finn since I became his agent. Food for thought.)]]>
You'd only care enough to kill somebody you love.
So, I told XWF management to book me as a wrestler — being sure to bring attention to the fact that I literally don't know how to wrestle — and they actually did it. The absolute madmen. Not that I'm honestly surprised. The only reason I even bothered with this little experiment in the first place was to prove a point: XWF management just wants bodies for the meat grinder. They don't give a shit whether any of the people they throw to the wolves know what they're doing, just that they're there.

I have to say though, that the match they booked me in did come as a bit of a shock. I'm not a wrestler, I've never even been in a fight, and yet I have the opportunity to become a champion in my professional wrestling debut. Isn't that mental? That I can just drop in all willy-nilly and get afforded the same opportunity as Jessalyn Hart on her little redemption tour. Jeez, Arzegotti wishes he could so thoroughly bury someone else's feel good story.

Don't worry, Jessalyn. I wouldn't dare steal your moment from you. Hell, I may not even make it to the arena. Why would I? I don't know how to wrestle and I have no desire to fluke my way into winning a belt that was created to satiate Jenny Myst's inferiority-superiority complex. I bet they can't even get her stench off the damn thing — which, considering I've never been in the same room as the nerd, I can only assume smells like soiled bedsheets and salt.

So I guess this whole thing, in a roundabout way, is an apology. I'm sorry, Nyx. I'm sorry, Jessalyn. Oh, listen to me talk. I'm apologizing for something that really isn't my fault in the first place.

Hey, Nyx. I got a question for you, hunty. How does it feel being the champion of a division so fucking niche that they had to throw in a non-wrestler just to alleviate the tedium of a rematch no one asked for? It's a shame that this belt even exists, isn't it? A real short-sighted hotshotting decision, but of course hindsight is 20/20 and here we are. Doing the song and dance routine. I suppose if I were really coming for your throat, this is the part where I drag you through the mud. Where I tell you that I despise you and everything you stand for. That I'm going to penetrate you with my boot or some other edgy dreck.

I'm not going to do that. I feel that maybe, the fact that we're having this conversation is the most damaging blow I can throw in this little exchange of words. I don't take you for some raving, arrogant loon, but if you were all I'd have to do is play the not-a-wrestler card like my name was Supa Hot Fire and knock the wind right out of your sails. Face it, hunty, you're Isabella Ravenwolf but better. And while that's a compliment (I guess), it does little to mitigate the fact that your biggest defense to date is against the same gremlin looking not-a-dyke™ you've already beaten and someone who's never been in a physical confrontation in her life.

I'm going to keep highlighting that second point because I'm making a point.

That has to sting, doesn't it? Knowing that perpetual choke artist Jenny Myst has a match deemed more important than yours? Any competitor has to take that as a slight. Hell, if you were my client I'd be mad for you. Honestly, I'm already mad for you without any kind of professional relationship.

It sucks, but those are the breaks.

Switching gears a bit, hey Jessalyn.

Is this what you wanted? What you've been begging for? My mouth is open and my focus is on you. Do you want me to exhume your skeletons, show I've done my homework, and that I know more about you than you do me? Is this what you've been begging for?

Do you need me to bring up that you're like, 0 for 3 when it comes to Bombshell title shots? You've choked away so many undeserved opportunities, I'm not entirely unconvinced that you're just Jenny Myst in drag. But you know that, don't you? That's what this whole redemption arc is about, right?

You finally doing the thing. And you look at me and you see a threat to that narrative, don't you? That's why you're so concerned about what Nyx and I are doing, isn't it? Has to be, otherwise you're just nosy and that's pretty fucking rude all things considered.

Don't worry, Jessie. I'm not your enemy. I'm not a threat. At least, not physically. But, think about it, girl. What if you pull this one off? What if I actually come down to the ring and you batter me senseless before pinning me and taking what you feel is rightfully yours?

Can't you hear it already? You beat the girl who could barely defend herself, yadda yadda. You wouldn't have the credibility of a champion. And while you can puff out your chest and act like that wouldn't faze you, we both know it would.

And remember, they deemed me worthy of the same opportunity you got.

So, let me do you a solid, and remove myself from the equation. I'll just stand there, and I won't bother you. Or Nyx. I'll let you two have the rematch you two ought to have because this belt means about as much to me as it does to XWF management.

See ya, girls.

(Oh and also if you ever want representation so you can avoid booking scenarios like this in the future, you know who to call. Look at what I've been able to secure for Finn since I became his agent. Food for thought.)]]> <![CDATA[Lost & Found... & Lost Again (...and found again...)]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31893 Sat, 21 Jul 2018 11:16:26 -0700 Rain]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31893
Quote:History, Part 1: iGNITE

http://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tpind=31824&actpinon=lastpost -- pt.1



~ The world is crumbling...

~ The air is poisoned...

~ The people are dying...

~ ...And nobody gives a fuck.

"We all turn the other cheek and focus on what we can reap from the planet for ourselves. The love in our hearts is slowly fading away... we have forgotten how to treat one another. We have forgotten how to treat the globe we call home. The populous needs a guiding light... people that know what is right for the world, and what is wrong... allow us to introduce ourselves. We are two people, with one objective -- to restore order to XWF. You people don't know what you truly want or need, you don't know what's right for business.... and neither does the locker room. Nor do those in charge... which is why we stand here now, the Realm of Xtreme stained and dented. The two of us, aka The Perfect Storm, shall restore XWF back to the level it once stood at, with all other companies trailing far behind.

"Hello XWF. Thy name be Rain, formerly Reeve, aka raYne. I've returned with a message, a mission, a meaning... a purpose, and I preach to you all; heed the word. The billions of people that inhabit this world amount to a pile of dust and dirt. Drunken miserable bastards, looking out for number one and tossing each other to the wolves for a profit. Beyond the beauty of earth there rests the ugliness of deceit, murder, theft and everything else you could possibly think of... Follow us, believe in us, trust in us... join us. For at the end of road, you're either with us... Or you're against us. Allow us in... or forever remain in the dark. Help obliterate the void which consumes you, replacing the void with a bright, shining light... We are the prophets of a new generation. The riders of the reckoning. Two souls bound together in the interest of one shared goal-- to bring glory and prestige back to the XWF. This is a new horizon in the wrestling business.

"We will go down in the history books as the ones that brought XWF back to its pique. The Saviors of Xtreme. Let's ride!!"


I've been in this industry for 18 years. And trust me, I'm only beginning. I've FINALLY found the incentive I've needed to make an impact in the XWF, and having held that Xtreme title for a cup of coffee, that motivation is whirling through my system... I HAVE to win it again, it's simply a must. There's no way around it!! From the first time I stepped foot in XWF, to this return, I've been brought down for being different, despite the fact that so many of you are even more fucked up than I am! There's been so many integral points in my life that would bring a lesser person down, whereas I've used those moments to fuel me. For years I've dealt with hate that would keep lesser people down, possibly even ending with suicide. So many people keep bashing me for my makeup, my nails, my lipstick, flamboyance and pushing the envelope, but in a company that's long been known to destroy political correct bullshit, I take it upon myself to fight for those that have been cast aside. I will be the champion of the underbelly, the outcasts, the downtrodden and the damned. I AM, Xtreme. I AM, harcore, I AM... Reeve. Fucking. Gordon.

I am RAIN.

...and don't you forget it.


I was ready to return. raYne was ready to shine....that is, until the day I returned home from my comeback match. I came home to find Alexis's clothes strewn about... along with those of my best friend and on again, off again tag partner, Bass Monsoon. I found the trail of underwear leading into our bedroom... and as I arrived, I found Alexis in bed, Bass on top, the two going at it like a XXX vid. I began to yell at the top of my lungs and the two were startled beyond belief. Alexis glared at me, yelling furiously, with a monstrous look in her eyes.

Alexis screamed, "Shane... I'm sick and tired of waiting for you to get home every night!! Waiting and waiting, just for you to be too worked out from wrestling to spend time with me. Shane, or should I say 'raYne', why don't you go suck the boss's dick so you can win a title or two. Get out!" I shouted back, "But this is my house!" "This is OUR house!! Shane, I'm sorry, but it just seems like you care more about wrestling and traveling here and there than you do me! Not to mention your best friend right here is more of a man than you could ever DREAM to be!! Now grab your things and get the fuck outta my house!"

"YOUR house? Bitch, this is OUR house, we share everything here, or have you forgotten? And here I come, hoping to curl up next to my beautiful wife after a long, hard night, and I see you here, with my best friend?! I think YOU should grab your junk and get the FUCK out. Take that turncoat with ya!!" The two dressed and were about to exit, when Bass stood up to me and spoke. "Ya know, we don't really have to follow your orders but we'll just let you have your dream of living in this beautiful home for one last day. Then you can just collect your things and troddle off to some roach-infested motel, making your life on the road.

"Oh, and by the way? Don't worry about this little lady right here... I'll tell ya 'friend', she won't be missing ANYTHING. Dude, you've been a loser since you were born! Your mother left you, your father abandoned you, you almost died in a match. And right before that match, your opponent, your childhood object of lust... he along with the world discovered your little secret!"

He was right. Javex Valerius was my childhood crush... and now I was forced out of the closet thanks to him and his running buddy, Vlad. In the end, my hero was no better than the bullies that tormented me in middle school. Another one of the worst nights of my life... Bass continued, "Bottom line? Come tomorrow, you'll be traveling the streets alone, arena to arena, hoping one of the other wrestlers or management members will give you a ride to another loss. Reeve... I'm glad to have had you as a best friend. But both I & your gf have found someone better than you, in eachother. That's just the way things go, pal... sorry about yer damn luck!!!"

Alexis and Bass walked up to the door, swung it open, and slammed it in my face. My life up to this point was littered with misery. Bass ended up joining the Underground alongside Vlad & JVX, and the group I called family, Apollo Kaytor and Trikzta, Made In America, were sunk. My destiny in XAW was all but dashed.

I spent the night alone in bed, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about my life... all the trials and tribulations I've weathered. All the hell I've been through to find my happiness. The joy within had been extinguished. I would no longer be adorned with colorful, vibrant, flamboyant threads.....But instead, I adopted the name 'Reeve Gordon', an edit of the real name of one of my other fave wrestlers: Steve Borden, aka, Sting. I covered my face in black and white paint, slicked back my hair, wore a pair of shredded jeans and a red tee displaying "iAm" in black. I wore a black, leather vest with metal spikes pointing out from its shoulders...

And I always wore a necklace with a shimmering, crystal Dragon pendant, referring to myself as the so called "New Dragon". JVX could only laugh at the notion of this punk kid trying to grab his torch... Though, every time I made my entrance, the legend couldn't help but notice something...

Some kind of fire burning within my soul. And it grew brighter each day.



"The Rain Storm" Reeve Gordon, History pt.2: 'Lost & Found... & Lost Again'

I tried to forge a career in XAW, but in the end, they dumped me... literally, in a vat of shit. And you thought XWF was bad. >__<

With anger running through my veins, I headed back home to seek my revenge on my ex, Alexis, and her new boyfriend, my ex best friend, Bass Monsoon. I was seething with rage, and I could do nothing more than take pain out on two of the main people that added to my spiral into madness. The treacherous couple were at a theatre, showing some generic action/suspense bullshit starring Vin Diesel... Bass headed to the concession stand, as Alexis was left behind to continue indulging herself in the crapfest. Suddenly, the lights cut out. Alexis worried a bit, Bass still gone. A glow emenated from the screen... after a split second, a black bat sliced through the air, and just like that, Alexis was on the floor. Moments later, Bass returned to fine Alexis gone, and the movie's credits already rolling ahead of time... ending with one last credit:

Director: Reeve Gordon

Bass was left in a mixture of fury and fear, as he ventured throughout the arena, searching for anyone who could tip him off of Alexis's whereabouts. But sadly for him, that bitch was long gone. Lex was with me... headed for a place where I knew nobody could track us down. A place where it would only be me and her, and I'd FINALLY be able to exact my revenge on the woman that ripped my heart in two. I put her out using a chloraform soaked rag, before tying her to a wooden chair in the center of the cabin. I yelled as she began to awaken.

"You BITCH, do you realize how my life is now? You stabbed me in the back, as did my 'hero', and now everything's a mess. I feel like breaking your neck, or stabbing you in the chest, but no. I'm gonna kick it up a notch. See this black bat? It's going to be the end of you, and it won't be quick, oh hell no. I'll strike you over, and over, and OVER till you truly know how it feels to feel nothing but pain. You've nowhere to run or hide... once I'm finished with you, I'll set this cabin ablaze, and burn it to the ground, seeing its ashes spread out into the far reaches of my beautiful forest. Say goodbye, my darling."

I laughed violently as Alexis tried desperately to escape, to no avail. I slid my index finger along her chin softly, gently kissing her on the forehead. "I loved you oh so much, my dear. Yet you threw my love in the trash and now I stand here, broken and shattered, torn apart upon the floor. Now? I'm going to do the same to you." Suddenly, I could smell smoke drifting outside the cabin. Alexis shifted her chair til she droped to the side, and I kicked the door opened, finding my raYne Forest being set on fire by one of the men that helped destroy my XAW career, Vlad. I rushed out of the forest as quickly as I could, leaving Alexis behind without a care, and as I met with Vlad, all I could do is look as if I was about to break down. The half vampire, half human hybrid smiled, patting me on the shoulder. A cloud of smoke encapsulated him, and as it left, he was gone.

I subsequently moved from company to company, seeking a career, but never accumulating success. Sometimes inches within major victories, but always falling short. I eventually found myself in love with a fellow member of one of the elite companies of the time. Her name was Krystal Dawn, a hardcore dynamite diva, with all the tools to be a champ in the biz one day. I caught her eye, and we began a relationship that slowly began to wash away all the negativity that had been holding me down for so long. I was feeling as if I could be loved again, as if I wasn't alone, as if this woman truly was my key to a better life, and a better me.

We opened up to one another, our childhoods, our family, school, wrestling, and everything in between. It seemed as if our being together was so much more natural and romantic, and I sought my forgiveness with the big man upstaird. I felt like Alexis didn't deserve the terrible death she had met with. I cried a few times at night, but Krystal calmed me down, comforting me, as we lay next to eachother, smiling, looking into one another's eyes... One night Krystal kissed me on the forehead, and spoke as I gazed into her gorgeous eyes, "Reeve... some nights I hear you mention some woman's name... Alexis. I was worried who that could be?"

Fear swept over me, as she looked rightly upset. I spoke, "She's an ex of mine. She slept on me with my best friend, and left my life in ruins. Sometimes I have nightmares of her hunting me down and doing terrible things to me, and sometimes to you as well. I'm so sorry, precious." Krys sort of looked less perturbed but was still worried. "Do you think there's any chance she'd track us down? I don't want to be afraid of living in my own home..."

"Hun, things are going to be just fine. There's no problem, if that wench tries to interfere with our life, we've got one of the world's TOP security systems in place, and she'd be spliced and diced and dropped in the dirt. There is NO CHANCE IN HELL that skank is coming back into my life, much less invading ours. I love you, ever so much, my dear <3 ^__^ "

Krys replied, "I love you too, Reeve! <333 ^.^ "

However, one night, Krystal was outside an arena, smoking a joint, leaning against the hood of her car as it blares out some 'Usher'. Krys hums to the song, but after a few moments, static is heard before the cd skips and cuts out. She looks distrought, as she heads to check on the cd player... *THWACK!!* Krystal dropped like a sack of potatoes [where's when ya need him?! XD ] Alexis dropped my very own, personal weapon; a black baseball bat. She began to berate Krys with fists and boots, lifting Dawn up before slamming her into her car. Alexis then yanked Krystal up tightly by the collar, screaming at her, spit splattering against Krystal's face.

"So YOU'RE the half-wit ho-bag that's been going down on Reeve every night? Trust me, sweetie, you'll get tired, you'll get bored, and at some point in time, you'll drop his ass just like I did. He's not worth the time, the effort, the work or the patience. He's not a man, he's a fairy, and he's not got what it takes to please a woman!! Don't believe me?" Krystal tried to reply, "NO! I love him, I--" But Alexis cut her off... literally. Alexis procured a switchblade from her pocket, before slitting Krystal's throat, shoving Dawn into the car... Krys slid down and blood swept across the jet black finish. That night, I tried to get ahold of Krystal... but was left with a busy signal. A couple of days later, I heard of her death. Alexis was nowhere to be found. Again, my life was ... I needed something, someone, to brighten my world...

I spent a couple of years mourning, not only over the death of Krystal, but over the shape of my life. I wanted to be sparkly, and daring, and some kind of beacon when it comes to living out loud. A whirlwind. But I'd been lost. And I felt as if my life would forever be an endless fall into darkness and despair. Enter a man by the name of Tony Spaghetti, aka Tony Santiani. A flame was lit in my heart, and the fire was bright. We were both in the same company together; Midwestern Championship Wrestling. He was dashing and daring, a Brooklyn born bruiser, akin to Casey Jones from TMNT, and as soon as he caught my eye, I was swept away.

The two of us soon became the power couple of MCW, aligning with Tara Ryzing, Sugar Stevens, Apollo Kaytor, X-static, and Heather Nova, collectively known as 'The Industry'. We battled time and again with the ressurected 'Underground', consisting of Vlad, Callisto, Crusher, Mangler, Saidogai, and Alone, which was to Javex what 'Reeve' is to my 'raYne', a dark, twisted alter ego. Things would simmer to a boil at Heatwave '05, where the Underground and the Industry met eachother inside the triple cage, the ownership of the company on the line, Underground represented by the current Chairman, Mike Johnson, while our group was led by the potential Chair: Trinity.

Meanwhile, back in my hometown of Nowhere, Oklahoma, my sister Sarah Gordon, aka 'Snow', was training to become a pro wrestler in her own right. She was the other half of our coin, always into camo and short, spiky hair, and never seen without a dogtag. Just like the dragon pendant I wear that reminds me of JVX, Snow has always worn this dogtag from her greatest adversary; Violet, icon of Ladies All-star Wrestling. Sarah spent four or five years on the indie circuit, before Mike Johnson noticed her, sent some scouts, and before long she was brought onto the main roster of MCW. Mike kept speaking into Snow's ear, trying with all his might to have her intervene with the triple tier cell and cost the Industry the match, betraying me and becoming a corporate sell-out. The night of HeatWave rolled around, and both teams were bashing eachother from top to bottom of the structure. A briefcase was suspended over the very top, with the winning team delievering the ownership to their leader. Mike Johnson and Trinity were outside, glaring eachother down, when a tune unfamiliar to the MC-Dub audience struck up; "Bitch" by Meredith Brooks. Snow appeared from the curtains, to a deafening cheer from the MCW fans.

She glanced out at the audience, before speeding down the ramp to lend a helping hand... Alone and Tony clashed upon the roof, one of the men sure to grab the case, as Snow began climbing from the outside. The sight of Alone/Tony was quite reminiscent of the moment I faced JVX atop the very same structure, right before Javex sent me careening through the air and colliding with the steel ramp. Snow finally reached the top, staring down both Alone & Tony-tone, one to the other, back and forth... till she focused on my lover, as if she were about to pounce... when suddenly;

BAM!!

Just as it seemed as if she'd strike him down, she whipped around and hit Alone with his very own Gloria Por Dalor [superkick] sending the legend many feet down to the ramp, breakig him. Snow reached toward Tony, pulled him up, and the two of them pulled down the briefcase, as the Industry celebrated far below. Trinity, beaming from ear to ear, becoming the new face of the company, and knowing in her heart that she could help without a doubt. Finally, I felt a peace come over me. I was in a solid, wonderful relationship with Tony. My career had been ressurected. And my cousin was proudly following in my footsteps. Together, Snow & I formed a team called 'The Perfect Storm', and a couple of years later, we focused our sights on a company by the name of 'WCF'. Snow fell in love with the place, but it just wasn't enough for me. She stuck around, but I moved out for something a bit more fierce...

...the Realm of Xtreme.

At first I felt as if I was in the right place, and that I was going to tear the house down. That I'd found my home, and that this is where I'd spend the rest of my career. But instead, I annoyed the whole roster and fans and staff and management to the point where they electrocuted me, shredded me, blew me up, and beheaded me, leaving me dead. XWF icon Archie Lawson punted my head into the fans like a soccer ball. Alexandra Callaway, another XWF legend, was left exhuberant over my being slaughtered at the hands of the Xtreme Wrestling Federation. She had been one of, if not THE main XWF member I'd pissed off, and she'd exacted her revenge, sure she'd never see my face again.

She was wrong.

|tbc|]]>
Quote:History, Part 1: iGNITE

http://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tpind=31824&actpinon=lastpost -- pt.1



~ The world is crumbling...

~ The air is poisoned...

~ The people are dying...

~ ...And nobody gives a fuck.

"We all turn the other cheek and focus on what we can reap from the planet for ourselves. The love in our hearts is slowly fading away... we have forgotten how to treat one another. We have forgotten how to treat the globe we call home. The populous needs a guiding light... people that know what is right for the world, and what is wrong... allow us to introduce ourselves. We are two people, with one objective -- to restore order to XWF. You people don't know what you truly want or need, you don't know what's right for business.... and neither does the locker room. Nor do those in charge... which is why we stand here now, the Realm of Xtreme stained and dented. The two of us, aka The Perfect Storm, shall restore XWF back to the level it once stood at, with all other companies trailing far behind.

"Hello XWF. Thy name be Rain, formerly Reeve, aka raYne. I've returned with a message, a mission, a meaning... a purpose, and I preach to you all; heed the word. The billions of people that inhabit this world amount to a pile of dust and dirt. Drunken miserable bastards, looking out for number one and tossing each other to the wolves for a profit. Beyond the beauty of earth there rests the ugliness of deceit, murder, theft and everything else you could possibly think of... Follow us, believe in us, trust in us... join us. For at the end of road, you're either with us... Or you're against us. Allow us in... or forever remain in the dark. Help obliterate the void which consumes you, replacing the void with a bright, shining light... We are the prophets of a new generation. The riders of the reckoning. Two souls bound together in the interest of one shared goal-- to bring glory and prestige back to the XWF. This is a new horizon in the wrestling business.

"We will go down in the history books as the ones that brought XWF back to its pique. The Saviors of Xtreme. Let's ride!!"


I've been in this industry for 18 years. And trust me, I'm only beginning. I've FINALLY found the incentive I've needed to make an impact in the XWF, and having held that Xtreme title for a cup of coffee, that motivation is whirling through my system... I HAVE to win it again, it's simply a must. There's no way around it!! From the first time I stepped foot in XWF, to this return, I've been brought down for being different, despite the fact that so many of you are even more fucked up than I am! There's been so many integral points in my life that would bring a lesser person down, whereas I've used those moments to fuel me. For years I've dealt with hate that would keep lesser people down, possibly even ending with suicide. So many people keep bashing me for my makeup, my nails, my lipstick, flamboyance and pushing the envelope, but in a company that's long been known to destroy political correct bullshit, I take it upon myself to fight for those that have been cast aside. I will be the champion of the underbelly, the outcasts, the downtrodden and the damned. I AM, Xtreme. I AM, harcore, I AM... Reeve. Fucking. Gordon.

I am RAIN.

...and don't you forget it.


I was ready to return. raYne was ready to shine....that is, until the day I returned home from my comeback match. I came home to find Alexis's clothes strewn about... along with those of my best friend and on again, off again tag partner, Bass Monsoon. I found the trail of underwear leading into our bedroom... and as I arrived, I found Alexis in bed, Bass on top, the two going at it like a XXX vid. I began to yell at the top of my lungs and the two were startled beyond belief. Alexis glared at me, yelling furiously, with a monstrous look in her eyes.

Alexis screamed, "Shane... I'm sick and tired of waiting for you to get home every night!! Waiting and waiting, just for you to be too worked out from wrestling to spend time with me. Shane, or should I say 'raYne', why don't you go suck the boss's dick so you can win a title or two. Get out!" I shouted back, "But this is my house!" "This is OUR house!! Shane, I'm sorry, but it just seems like you care more about wrestling and traveling here and there than you do me! Not to mention your best friend right here is more of a man than you could ever DREAM to be!! Now grab your things and get the fuck outta my house!"

"YOUR house? Bitch, this is OUR house, we share everything here, or have you forgotten? And here I come, hoping to curl up next to my beautiful wife after a long, hard night, and I see you here, with my best friend?! I think YOU should grab your junk and get the FUCK out. Take that turncoat with ya!!" The two dressed and were about to exit, when Bass stood up to me and spoke. "Ya know, we don't really have to follow your orders but we'll just let you have your dream of living in this beautiful home for one last day. Then you can just collect your things and troddle off to some roach-infested motel, making your life on the road.

"Oh, and by the way? Don't worry about this little lady right here... I'll tell ya 'friend', she won't be missing ANYTHING. Dude, you've been a loser since you were born! Your mother left you, your father abandoned you, you almost died in a match. And right before that match, your opponent, your childhood object of lust... he along with the world discovered your little secret!"

He was right. Javex Valerius was my childhood crush... and now I was forced out of the closet thanks to him and his running buddy, Vlad. In the end, my hero was no better than the bullies that tormented me in middle school. Another one of the worst nights of my life... Bass continued, "Bottom line? Come tomorrow, you'll be traveling the streets alone, arena to arena, hoping one of the other wrestlers or management members will give you a ride to another loss. Reeve... I'm glad to have had you as a best friend. But both I & your gf have found someone better than you, in eachother. That's just the way things go, pal... sorry about yer damn luck!!!"

Alexis and Bass walked up to the door, swung it open, and slammed it in my face. My life up to this point was littered with misery. Bass ended up joining the Underground alongside Vlad & JVX, and the group I called family, Apollo Kaytor and Trikzta, Made In America, were sunk. My destiny in XAW was all but dashed.

I spent the night alone in bed, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about my life... all the trials and tribulations I've weathered. All the hell I've been through to find my happiness. The joy within had been extinguished. I would no longer be adorned with colorful, vibrant, flamboyant threads.....But instead, I adopted the name 'Reeve Gordon', an edit of the real name of one of my other fave wrestlers: Steve Borden, aka, Sting. I covered my face in black and white paint, slicked back my hair, wore a pair of shredded jeans and a red tee displaying "iAm" in black. I wore a black, leather vest with metal spikes pointing out from its shoulders...

And I always wore a necklace with a shimmering, crystal Dragon pendant, referring to myself as the so called "New Dragon". JVX could only laugh at the notion of this punk kid trying to grab his torch... Though, every time I made my entrance, the legend couldn't help but notice something...

Some kind of fire burning within my soul. And it grew brighter each day.



"The Rain Storm" Reeve Gordon, History pt.2: 'Lost & Found... & Lost Again'

I tried to forge a career in XAW, but in the end, they dumped me... literally, in a vat of shit. And you thought XWF was bad. >__<

With anger running through my veins, I headed back home to seek my revenge on my ex, Alexis, and her new boyfriend, my ex best friend, Bass Monsoon. I was seething with rage, and I could do nothing more than take pain out on two of the main people that added to my spiral into madness. The treacherous couple were at a theatre, showing some generic action/suspense bullshit starring Vin Diesel... Bass headed to the concession stand, as Alexis was left behind to continue indulging herself in the crapfest. Suddenly, the lights cut out. Alexis worried a bit, Bass still gone. A glow emenated from the screen... after a split second, a black bat sliced through the air, and just like that, Alexis was on the floor. Moments later, Bass returned to fine Alexis gone, and the movie's credits already rolling ahead of time... ending with one last credit:

Director: Reeve Gordon

Bass was left in a mixture of fury and fear, as he ventured throughout the arena, searching for anyone who could tip him off of Alexis's whereabouts. But sadly for him, that bitch was long gone. Lex was with me... headed for a place where I knew nobody could track us down. A place where it would only be me and her, and I'd FINALLY be able to exact my revenge on the woman that ripped my heart in two. I put her out using a chloraform soaked rag, before tying her to a wooden chair in the center of the cabin. I yelled as she began to awaken.

"You BITCH, do you realize how my life is now? You stabbed me in the back, as did my 'hero', and now everything's a mess. I feel like breaking your neck, or stabbing you in the chest, but no. I'm gonna kick it up a notch. See this black bat? It's going to be the end of you, and it won't be quick, oh hell no. I'll strike you over, and over, and OVER till you truly know how it feels to feel nothing but pain. You've nowhere to run or hide... once I'm finished with you, I'll set this cabin ablaze, and burn it to the ground, seeing its ashes spread out into the far reaches of my beautiful forest. Say goodbye, my darling."

I laughed violently as Alexis tried desperately to escape, to no avail. I slid my index finger along her chin softly, gently kissing her on the forehead. "I loved you oh so much, my dear. Yet you threw my love in the trash and now I stand here, broken and shattered, torn apart upon the floor. Now? I'm going to do the same to you." Suddenly, I could smell smoke drifting outside the cabin. Alexis shifted her chair til she droped to the side, and I kicked the door opened, finding my raYne Forest being set on fire by one of the men that helped destroy my XAW career, Vlad. I rushed out of the forest as quickly as I could, leaving Alexis behind without a care, and as I met with Vlad, all I could do is look as if I was about to break down. The half vampire, half human hybrid smiled, patting me on the shoulder. A cloud of smoke encapsulated him, and as it left, he was gone.

I subsequently moved from company to company, seeking a career, but never accumulating success. Sometimes inches within major victories, but always falling short. I eventually found myself in love with a fellow member of one of the elite companies of the time. Her name was Krystal Dawn, a hardcore dynamite diva, with all the tools to be a champ in the biz one day. I caught her eye, and we began a relationship that slowly began to wash away all the negativity that had been holding me down for so long. I was feeling as if I could be loved again, as if I wasn't alone, as if this woman truly was my key to a better life, and a better me.

We opened up to one another, our childhoods, our family, school, wrestling, and everything in between. It seemed as if our being together was so much more natural and romantic, and I sought my forgiveness with the big man upstaird. I felt like Alexis didn't deserve the terrible death she had met with. I cried a few times at night, but Krystal calmed me down, comforting me, as we lay next to eachother, smiling, looking into one another's eyes... One night Krystal kissed me on the forehead, and spoke as I gazed into her gorgeous eyes, "Reeve... some nights I hear you mention some woman's name... Alexis. I was worried who that could be?"

Fear swept over me, as she looked rightly upset. I spoke, "She's an ex of mine. She slept on me with my best friend, and left my life in ruins. Sometimes I have nightmares of her hunting me down and doing terrible things to me, and sometimes to you as well. I'm so sorry, precious." Krys sort of looked less perturbed but was still worried. "Do you think there's any chance she'd track us down? I don't want to be afraid of living in my own home..."

"Hun, things are going to be just fine. There's no problem, if that wench tries to interfere with our life, we've got one of the world's TOP security systems in place, and she'd be spliced and diced and dropped in the dirt. There is NO CHANCE IN HELL that skank is coming back into my life, much less invading ours. I love you, ever so much, my dear <3 ^__^ "

Krys replied, "I love you too, Reeve! <333 ^.^ "

However, one night, Krystal was outside an arena, smoking a joint, leaning against the hood of her car as it blares out some 'Usher'. Krys hums to the song, but after a few moments, static is heard before the cd skips and cuts out. She looks distrought, as she heads to check on the cd player... *THWACK!!* Krystal dropped like a sack of potatoes [where's when ya need him?! XD ] Alexis dropped my very own, personal weapon; a black baseball bat. She began to berate Krys with fists and boots, lifting Dawn up before slamming her into her car. Alexis then yanked Krystal up tightly by the collar, screaming at her, spit splattering against Krystal's face.

"So YOU'RE the half-wit ho-bag that's been going down on Reeve every night? Trust me, sweetie, you'll get tired, you'll get bored, and at some point in time, you'll drop his ass just like I did. He's not worth the time, the effort, the work or the patience. He's not a man, he's a fairy, and he's not got what it takes to please a woman!! Don't believe me?" Krystal tried to reply, "NO! I love him, I--" But Alexis cut her off... literally. Alexis procured a switchblade from her pocket, before slitting Krystal's throat, shoving Dawn into the car... Krys slid down and blood swept across the jet black finish. That night, I tried to get ahold of Krystal... but was left with a busy signal. A couple of days later, I heard of her death. Alexis was nowhere to be found. Again, my life was ... I needed something, someone, to brighten my world...

I spent a couple of years mourning, not only over the death of Krystal, but over the shape of my life. I wanted to be sparkly, and daring, and some kind of beacon when it comes to living out loud. A whirlwind. But I'd been lost. And I felt as if my life would forever be an endless fall into darkness and despair. Enter a man by the name of Tony Spaghetti, aka Tony Santiani. A flame was lit in my heart, and the fire was bright. We were both in the same company together; Midwestern Championship Wrestling. He was dashing and daring, a Brooklyn born bruiser, akin to Casey Jones from TMNT, and as soon as he caught my eye, I was swept away.

The two of us soon became the power couple of MCW, aligning with Tara Ryzing, Sugar Stevens, Apollo Kaytor, X-static, and Heather Nova, collectively known as 'The Industry'. We battled time and again with the ressurected 'Underground', consisting of Vlad, Callisto, Crusher, Mangler, Saidogai, and Alone, which was to Javex what 'Reeve' is to my 'raYne', a dark, twisted alter ego. Things would simmer to a boil at Heatwave '05, where the Underground and the Industry met eachother inside the triple cage, the ownership of the company on the line, Underground represented by the current Chairman, Mike Johnson, while our group was led by the potential Chair: Trinity.

Meanwhile, back in my hometown of Nowhere, Oklahoma, my sister Sarah Gordon, aka 'Snow', was training to become a pro wrestler in her own right. She was the other half of our coin, always into camo and short, spiky hair, and never seen without a dogtag. Just like the dragon pendant I wear that reminds me of JVX, Snow has always worn this dogtag from her greatest adversary; Violet, icon of Ladies All-star Wrestling. Sarah spent four or five years on the indie circuit, before Mike Johnson noticed her, sent some scouts, and before long she was brought onto the main roster of MCW. Mike kept speaking into Snow's ear, trying with all his might to have her intervene with the triple tier cell and cost the Industry the match, betraying me and becoming a corporate sell-out. The night of HeatWave rolled around, and both teams were bashing eachother from top to bottom of the structure. A briefcase was suspended over the very top, with the winning team delievering the ownership to their leader. Mike Johnson and Trinity were outside, glaring eachother down, when a tune unfamiliar to the MC-Dub audience struck up; "Bitch" by Meredith Brooks. Snow appeared from the curtains, to a deafening cheer from the MCW fans.

She glanced out at the audience, before speeding down the ramp to lend a helping hand... Alone and Tony clashed upon the roof, one of the men sure to grab the case, as Snow began climbing from the outside. The sight of Alone/Tony was quite reminiscent of the moment I faced JVX atop the very same structure, right before Javex sent me careening through the air and colliding with the steel ramp. Snow finally reached the top, staring down both Alone & Tony-tone, one to the other, back and forth... till she focused on my lover, as if she were about to pounce... when suddenly;

BAM!!

Just as it seemed as if she'd strike him down, she whipped around and hit Alone with his very own Gloria Por Dalor [superkick] sending the legend many feet down to the ramp, breakig him. Snow reached toward Tony, pulled him up, and the two of them pulled down the briefcase, as the Industry celebrated far below. Trinity, beaming from ear to ear, becoming the new face of the company, and knowing in her heart that she could help without a doubt. Finally, I felt a peace come over me. I was in a solid, wonderful relationship with Tony. My career had been ressurected. And my cousin was proudly following in my footsteps. Together, Snow & I formed a team called 'The Perfect Storm', and a couple of years later, we focused our sights on a company by the name of 'WCF'. Snow fell in love with the place, but it just wasn't enough for me. She stuck around, but I moved out for something a bit more fierce...

...the Realm of Xtreme.

At first I felt as if I was in the right place, and that I was going to tear the house down. That I'd found my home, and that this is where I'd spend the rest of my career. But instead, I annoyed the whole roster and fans and staff and management to the point where they electrocuted me, shredded me, blew me up, and beheaded me, leaving me dead. XWF icon Archie Lawson punted my head into the fans like a soccer ball. Alexandra Callaway, another XWF legend, was left exhuberant over my being slaughtered at the hands of the Xtreme Wrestling Federation. She had been one of, if not THE main XWF member I'd pissed off, and she'd exacted her revenge, sure she'd never see my face again.

She was wrong.

|tbc|]]> <![CDATA[Of Greetings & Salutations (rp2)]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31892 Sat, 21 Jul 2018 03:42:31 -0700 Nyx Nephthys]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31892


"Well, now that the entertainment portion is through, I feel it's only necessary to introduce myself."


The stranger smirked and extended his hand in my direction.


"Greetings and salutations, my name is Dillinger. Dillinger D'Marco. And you are?"


I accepted the offer and allowed my hand to linger within his as I recited an enchantment in my head. A seeing spell.


"Nyx Nephthys."


The stranger. This Dillinger D'Marco had an overwhelming darkness surrounding him. There was also an everlasting fire that burned, deep inside. Something similar that I sensed when I faced the spaceman. Yet, altogether different. Smoldering. Almost primordial. He was not from this world but at the same time, he never existed on another planet. He was born between two similar worlds. This world and one existing parallel to it. Two worlds. Side by side. Like two sides of the same coin. Except this coin, could be spun several times and never wind up on the same world or better suited, dimension... twice. I sensed great power both in ability and birthright. This was no alien but this also wasn't a human or even an advanced human. Before me, stood the son of Ozarath, God of destruction, wrath and ruin. The creator of chaos. Lord of war and bloodshed. The great slaughterer and he who dismembers bodies. His hand is the darkness that crushes the light. I... I was in the presence of an Inter-Dimensional Demi-God! Fear filled me as a gasp escaped my lips. It was all too much to bear. So much turmoil. Pain. Destruction. Death. Murder. Bloodshed. It was all too much to take in and yet, it flowed through my mind like an endless stream. There were screams of terror but this time, they weren't ripped from me. No. Instead, they came from all around and everywhere, closing in and surrounding, consuming my very being. Until there was nothing. Nothing but a cool blank void that washed over my body like a comforting wave. The next thing I felt was actual water pouring on my face. I sat up in shock and seen Dillinger standing over me, with an overturned glass in his hand and a sandwich in the other.


"You okay."


He took a bite out of the sandwich and rested the glass on a nearby dresser. Amusement radiated from his gaze as he offered me a hand up from my floor.


"I think so."


I shook my head and accepted his hand, instantly lifted to a standing position, I felt a wave of dizziness hit me. Unsteady in motion, I was able to maintain a sense of balance. While perfect composure, still seemed to be somewhat of an issue.


"You should be careful when casting a spell to see into someone else's mind, sometimes the sights that you witness, can be overwhelming. In some cases, even deadly. Words to live by. Especially, if you want to go around, playing Sabrina the Teenage Witch."


I steadied myself with the help of my dresser and mustered enough of my bearings, to give me the strength to roll my eyes.


"Why is that always the "go to" representation for ladies that cast spells?"


"Fine. The next time you wanna go around, playing Willow Rosenberg. Better?"


"Not really. Why must there be any sort of comparison at all?"


"Cause it makes it funnier... for me."


"Well as long as you're amused."


I was beside myself with confusion on the hostility that resonated within me and only could chalk it up to, residue from my brief moment of attachment to Dillinger's mind. Even now, I felt a lingering presence, inside. Lurking about like an intruder. It was a violation that I brought upon myself. My need to know, outweighed my judgment and I allowed myself to tread into places, where I should have eased myself into with far more caution. If ever at all.


"I don't know why you're annoyed. You invaded my mind. I can't help that it's a deep, dark, scary place in there. Most of the time, I don't even let myself go there."


I shivered, it suddenly felt very cold. Frigid.


"I'm fairly certain that I couldn't live with myself, if a world of nightmares existed within my skull."


He chuckled and finished the last bit of his sandwich. It was then that it dawned on me that I passed out and he went and made a sandwich before attempting to revive me. I suppose he could have done a lot worse.


"Shit. I don't think I could exist with myself, if I knew that either. That's why I don't let myself get trapped inside my head. I don't think about what might be going on in there and then, whatever is taking place or stirring about inside my skull, doesn't bother me. It's a mutual understanding. Or at least that's how I believe it works. All I know is that I don't get caught up in stuff. A bus load of people could get slaughtered and my main concern would be what I'm going to get for lunch... or if I need a clean set of clothes. Although, who am I kidding, that's usually the case. You can't kill a bus load of people and not need a change of clothes. Usually."


"Usually?"


Dillinger raised his hand and the room became consumed with fire, he lowered it and the flames died off. I was terrified and completely fascinated at the same time. Surrounded by an instant inferno, that dispersed as quickly as it appeared, without any damage taking place. Save for some slight singe marks, I assumed it could have been, much worse. It was a good explanation. Though truthfully, it was also one that didn't exactly fill me with that much peace of mind, when it came to the man that stood in my bedroom. Not at all. Not one bit. Instead it started raising some pretty red flags. Bright shining red flags, with flashing lights and alarms attached to them. Backing up, I felt myself meet the wall and wished, that I could pass through it. Not an actual spell. Not one that I knew of so if that could happen, I wouldn't be breathing. Which I started worrying was a distinct possibility.


"Relax. If I was going to murder you, I would have done it already. You did me a solid though and for that I owe you. One could argue, that I already repaid my debt to you, by granting you a safe passage from the Realm of Madness but I figured, that you might prove to be useful. Enough to keep alive anyway."


"The Realm of Madness?"


"That's where I was imprisoned. Where you found me... or I found you, I guess it sorta works both ways. You had to find The Heart Of Darkness, to give me a slight access to your mind, in order to bring you into the Realm of Madness and grant me the full ability to find you, only for you to find The Heart Of Darkness again, so we could escape. Y'know when you say it out loud. It sounds really fuckin' crazy. If that ever needs to be explained again, you do it, I already get enough slack for occasionally needing to kill people."


"What's the Heart of Darkness."


Dillinger thrust his hand out and instantly the black sword with the crimson jewel appeared in his grasp.


"This is the Heart of Darkness. It lets me rip through dimensions. It sort of part of me or an extension, if you will. Every once and awhile I have to recharge it to make it work."


"Recharge it?"


"Usually... by using it to kill someone or something. Whatever really. It doesn't matter, the Heart of Darkness doesn't discriminate. The bigger the kill and the more power that the kill possesses, the stronger the charge. You're looking at me like you're in fear for your life again."


He wasn't wrong, he was wielding a magical sword, that gained its powers by him using it to take lives, after all and he's spoken casually about murder quite a bit. I might have a few tricks up my sleeve but I still was in no condition to face an Inter-Dimensional Demi-God. Seeming to mind my weary, he swung the sword away from me and it vanished from sight. If he could do that, why did he need my help? Almost like he sensed my obvious question, he replied.


"I was imprisoned in the Realm of Madness. The Heart of Darkness was revoked from me upon imprisonment. Once someone gets put there, they're pretty much trapped. Mostly due to the fact, that things don't really work there, the same way they work anywhere else... and I mean, anywhere else. So for one to navigate their way around and gain somewhat of an understanding, they need to learn the law of the land, so to speak. Which is really fucking difficult because there is no actual "law" except for total entrapment and the place keeps shifting and changing, the longer you're stuck there. Literally. In every and any way possible. It's like living in a constant freefall. You never know what to expect. Eventually there are ways around the metaphorical brick walls though. When you discover that there are beings that you can form alliances with. That's how I located you. I had help from inside. I can't go into too much detail but the easy answer is that the assistance came from a being, that could pass through the Realm of Madness, without any issues. Basically it could come and go as it pleased. An employee, rather than a prisoner. He was a grim reaper of sorts. Not sure why he went along with my request but he did, with one catch, I didn't have any real control over who would be located and summoned to my aid. Not really. I still took a gamble and asked if whoever he found for me, could be someone that knew a thing or two about magic. I lucked out with him finding a witch."


"Who or what, imprisoned you there?"


"My step-mother. Queen Valeska. She likes to mess with me and this time, it was imprisonment in the Realm of Madness. Real nice. I gotta tell you, I've been called crazy, psychotic and even deranged, if you can believe it. That place though, is filled with insanity. Maybe if I had spent more time there, I might have actually lost my mind but thankfully, that didn't happen because you rescued me."


"Right."


He had to be totally bat shit crazy, if he thought that he wasn't messed up and deranged. The man was an admitted murderer, who had a "don't ask, don't tell" policy with his own mind. Curious. Was I a little mad if I admitted to that being intriguing?


"So what now? You're back, won't that piss off, Veleska?"


"Most definitely but you don't have to worry about that. At least I'm pretty sure that you don't."


"Great. Now, I might have an angry mother after me and for once, it won't be for sleeping with her son."


"Funny you should say that."


Red flag time again. Sound the alarms.


"Oh crap. Hold the phone there pal. Earlier you mentioned that I might be useful, you don't intend to sleep with me, do you? Maybe with a heavy emphasis on me being a "willing participant" in that matter?"


Dillinger look startled. Taken off guard and maybe, even insulted. Really? He's insulted?


"What? No! I never intended for that to happen."


His expression returned to normal as he shook his head and spoke in a softer tone. A sheepish grin dashing across his face.


"I said that it was funny that you said what you did because... incidentally, I slept with my step mother. I'm not proud of it. I didn't know who she was at the time and it resulted in my father killing me. Obviously, I survived that incident, but it was still a low point in my existence."


That was his low point? This man was definitely like no other.


"First off, gross. Secondly, if that's not why you think I might be useful, then what do you think I can help you with, exactly?"


"I'm not completely sure. I heard mumblings and whispers in the Realm of Madness. From the older, more ancient beings, that were trapped there far longer than I and resulted in them becoming an actual, part of the realm. You could hear their words on the very air. Most of it either didn't pertain to me or was complete gibberish. There were a couple of things that stood out though."


"What... stood out?"


"That I have a half brother, he's on Earth and he's a mechanic. There was a name too but I can't seem to recall what it was. I think it started with a G. Gary. Greggo. Gavin. Gustav."


"Griffin?"


"That's it. Griffin."


I started laughing at this point.


"Unbelievable.I work with a Griffin and he's a mechanic; however, I sense that there's something more to him, than meets the eye."


"Where do you work?"


"The XWF."


"The wrestling company. No shit. I used to work there too."


"Really?"


It was Dillinger's turn to laugh. Amused at our mutual connection.


"I used to be the Intercontinental Champ, till I lost to Bearded War Pig."


"Yeah, that's not a thing anymore, but BWP is still around. I'm actually about to defend the Bombshell Title at Leap of Faith."


"Interesting. Maybe I'll join you for that. If anything, I can gather some information on this Griffin, in order to locate his whereabouts. I'm not sure why I'm supposed to find him, all I know was that it seemed urgent and I figured... hey, family's got to help family, or something like that."


"You aren't going to kill him, right?"


"I can't make any promises but I'm a good 84% sure that won't happen."


I wasn't certain what was going to come of this but I figured, at least I knew what he was planning and in that, I'm already way ahead of the game, in case something bad happens. Like the death of Griffin MacAlister, because I let loose a murder hungry, Inter-Dimensional Demi-God from the Realm of Madness. Crap. I'm a terrible person, aren't I?


[Image: W7fMKYk.png]


"Jessalyn Hart. Once again we find ourselves doing the dance. Spinning and twirling, around and around. Where we'll drop. Only time shall know. I see you're very confident and that's good, being confident is key but I've really got to ask you. Is there something wrong with you? Mentally? You're not talking like someone that's... right in the head. You talk about being glad to have a champion like me around and that you respect me, but then you go on to say, that I'm a nobody and I don't mean shit to you. Those are very conflicting statements Jessalyn. Are you saying that you respect people that you don't give a fuck about? I could never practice that type of mentally bent logic, mostly cause I'm not off my rocker. If someone earned my respect, then they mean something. It means they did something to achieve that respect. They accomplished something in my eyes. Did a worthy task or committed a deed to bring notice to them. You can't respect someone that you don't give a fuck about. Respect is giving a fuck. If you don't give a fuck about them, then how do you grant that person props or respect? Unless, you pass around the word respect like candy. In which case, you're as bad as the people that you point your finger at and call out, for being unworthy or nothing. Your words carry zero weight. You mean nothing. Remember you're own statements brought on these conclusions."


"I'm also not clear on what cutting promos and defending a title has in common. A promo is just a video recording, that someone puts out in order to address another opponent. It has nothing to do with the results of our future combat. It doesn't mean that I'm not going to show up for the fight because I don't address you, in a timely fashion. You're all reared up and ready to go, good for you. You've got spunk. You're driven. Fantastic. I'm ecstatic to defend the title at Leap of Faith. Recorded words, don't affect that but it's obvious, that you truly believe that it does. That doesn't make me furious at you. Even with you throwing insults at me, I'm not angry or upset. I'm puzzled. Confused. It makes me wonder, if you might be off your meds? If that's the case, I suggest you notify someone and see about getting back on them. I'm pretty sure Vinnie Lane doesn't want to start paying money out to innocent bystanders that you might injure on your way to the ring. You might walk through the arena and see gremlins trying to attack you and start beating on them, only for them to wind up being children. I am fairly certain Mr. Lane doesn't want that lawsuit. So since you're all wrapped up and concerned, with how someone might act, perhaps you should take a look at yourself and see, you're the one that's been acting out of place. Seek help, Jessalyn. I implore you."


"As for you, Isabel Mercier. I don't really know much about you but I truly hope, that you can hold your senses in place, far better than Jessalyn. From what I heard about you from her, you have a client, so that must mean that you're a manager of some kind. Right off the bat, that tells me that you can handle yourself. That you're of a stable mind. I could be wrong but I would think that having and maintaining the responsibility of a client, means constant clear thinking. Heh. Please don't let me be wrong. As far as you not having any wrestling experience. I don't judge you on that. I've learned that people can surprise you. In both good and bad ways. However, I'm willing to lay stake on the possibility, that you'll bring the right element that this match needs. A fresh perspective." ]]>


"Well, now that the entertainment portion is through, I feel it's only necessary to introduce myself."


The stranger smirked and extended his hand in my direction.


"Greetings and salutations, my name is Dillinger. Dillinger D'Marco. And you are?"


I accepted the offer and allowed my hand to linger within his as I recited an enchantment in my head. A seeing spell.


"Nyx Nephthys."


The stranger. This Dillinger D'Marco had an overwhelming darkness surrounding him. There was also an everlasting fire that burned, deep inside. Something similar that I sensed when I faced the spaceman. Yet, altogether different. Smoldering. Almost primordial. He was not from this world but at the same time, he never existed on another planet. He was born between two similar worlds. This world and one existing parallel to it. Two worlds. Side by side. Like two sides of the same coin. Except this coin, could be spun several times and never wind up on the same world or better suited, dimension... twice. I sensed great power both in ability and birthright. This was no alien but this also wasn't a human or even an advanced human. Before me, stood the son of Ozarath, God of destruction, wrath and ruin. The creator of chaos. Lord of war and bloodshed. The great slaughterer and he who dismembers bodies. His hand is the darkness that crushes the light. I... I was in the presence of an Inter-Dimensional Demi-God! Fear filled me as a gasp escaped my lips. It was all too much to bear. So much turmoil. Pain. Destruction. Death. Murder. Bloodshed. It was all too much to take in and yet, it flowed through my mind like an endless stream. There were screams of terror but this time, they weren't ripped from me. No. Instead, they came from all around and everywhere, closing in and surrounding, consuming my very being. Until there was nothing. Nothing but a cool blank void that washed over my body like a comforting wave. The next thing I felt was actual water pouring on my face. I sat up in shock and seen Dillinger standing over me, with an overturned glass in his hand and a sandwich in the other.


"You okay."


He took a bite out of the sandwich and rested the glass on a nearby dresser. Amusement radiated from his gaze as he offered me a hand up from my floor.


"I think so."


I shook my head and accepted his hand, instantly lifted to a standing position, I felt a wave of dizziness hit me. Unsteady in motion, I was able to maintain a sense of balance. While perfect composure, still seemed to be somewhat of an issue.


"You should be careful when casting a spell to see into someone else's mind, sometimes the sights that you witness, can be overwhelming. In some cases, even deadly. Words to live by. Especially, if you want to go around, playing Sabrina the Teenage Witch."


I steadied myself with the help of my dresser and mustered enough of my bearings, to give me the strength to roll my eyes.


"Why is that always the "go to" representation for ladies that cast spells?"


"Fine. The next time you wanna go around, playing Willow Rosenberg. Better?"


"Not really. Why must there be any sort of comparison at all?"


"Cause it makes it funnier... for me."


"Well as long as you're amused."


I was beside myself with confusion on the hostility that resonated within me and only could chalk it up to, residue from my brief moment of attachment to Dillinger's mind. Even now, I felt a lingering presence, inside. Lurking about like an intruder. It was a violation that I brought upon myself. My need to know, outweighed my judgment and I allowed myself to tread into places, where I should have eased myself into with far more caution. If ever at all.


"I don't know why you're annoyed. You invaded my mind. I can't help that it's a deep, dark, scary place in there. Most of the time, I don't even let myself go there."


I shivered, it suddenly felt very cold. Frigid.


"I'm fairly certain that I couldn't live with myself, if a world of nightmares existed within my skull."


He chuckled and finished the last bit of his sandwich. It was then that it dawned on me that I passed out and he went and made a sandwich before attempting to revive me. I suppose he could have done a lot worse.


"Shit. I don't think I could exist with myself, if I knew that either. That's why I don't let myself get trapped inside my head. I don't think about what might be going on in there and then, whatever is taking place or stirring about inside my skull, doesn't bother me. It's a mutual understanding. Or at least that's how I believe it works. All I know is that I don't get caught up in stuff. A bus load of people could get slaughtered and my main concern would be what I'm going to get for lunch... or if I need a clean set of clothes. Although, who am I kidding, that's usually the case. You can't kill a bus load of people and not need a change of clothes. Usually."


"Usually?"


Dillinger raised his hand and the room became consumed with fire, he lowered it and the flames died off. I was terrified and completely fascinated at the same time. Surrounded by an instant inferno, that dispersed as quickly as it appeared, without any damage taking place. Save for some slight singe marks, I assumed it could have been, much worse. It was a good explanation. Though truthfully, it was also one that didn't exactly fill me with that much peace of mind, when it came to the man that stood in my bedroom. Not at all. Not one bit. Instead it started raising some pretty red flags. Bright shining red flags, with flashing lights and alarms attached to them. Backing up, I felt myself meet the wall and wished, that I could pass through it. Not an actual spell. Not one that I knew of so if that could happen, I wouldn't be breathing. Which I started worrying was a distinct possibility.


"Relax. If I was going to murder you, I would have done it already. You did me a solid though and for that I owe you. One could argue, that I already repaid my debt to you, by granting you a safe passage from the Realm of Madness but I figured, that you might prove to be useful. Enough to keep alive anyway."


"The Realm of Madness?"


"That's where I was imprisoned. Where you found me... or I found you, I guess it sorta works both ways. You had to find The Heart Of Darkness, to give me a slight access to your mind, in order to bring you into the Realm of Madness and grant me the full ability to find you, only for you to find The Heart Of Darkness again, so we could escape. Y'know when you say it out loud. It sounds really fuckin' crazy. If that ever needs to be explained again, you do it, I already get enough slack for occasionally needing to kill people."


"What's the Heart of Darkness."


Dillinger thrust his hand out and instantly the black sword with the crimson jewel appeared in his grasp.


"This is the Heart of Darkness. It lets me rip through dimensions. It sort of part of me or an extension, if you will. Every once and awhile I have to recharge it to make it work."


"Recharge it?"


"Usually... by using it to kill someone or something. Whatever really. It doesn't matter, the Heart of Darkness doesn't discriminate. The bigger the kill and the more power that the kill possesses, the stronger the charge. You're looking at me like you're in fear for your life again."


He wasn't wrong, he was wielding a magical sword, that gained its powers by him using it to take lives, after all and he's spoken casually about murder quite a bit. I might have a few tricks up my sleeve but I still was in no condition to face an Inter-Dimensional Demi-God. Seeming to mind my weary, he swung the sword away from me and it vanished from sight. If he could do that, why did he need my help? Almost like he sensed my obvious question, he replied.


"I was imprisoned in the Realm of Madness. The Heart of Darkness was revoked from me upon imprisonment. Once someone gets put there, they're pretty much trapped. Mostly due to the fact, that things don't really work there, the same way they work anywhere else... and I mean, anywhere else. So for one to navigate their way around and gain somewhat of an understanding, they need to learn the law of the land, so to speak. Which is really fucking difficult because there is no actual "law" except for total entrapment and the place keeps shifting and changing, the longer you're stuck there. Literally. In every and any way possible. It's like living in a constant freefall. You never know what to expect. Eventually there are ways around the metaphorical brick walls though. When you discover that there are beings that you can form alliances with. That's how I located you. I had help from inside. I can't go into too much detail but the easy answer is that the assistance came from a being, that could pass through the Realm of Madness, without any issues. Basically it could come and go as it pleased. An employee, rather than a prisoner. He was a grim reaper of sorts. Not sure why he went along with my request but he did, with one catch, I didn't have any real control over who would be located and summoned to my aid. Not really. I still took a gamble and asked if whoever he found for me, could be someone that knew a thing or two about magic. I lucked out with him finding a witch."


"Who or what, imprisoned you there?"


"My step-mother. Queen Valeska. She likes to mess with me and this time, it was imprisonment in the Realm of Madness. Real nice. I gotta tell you, I've been called crazy, psychotic and even deranged, if you can believe it. That place though, is filled with insanity. Maybe if I had spent more time there, I might have actually lost my mind but thankfully, that didn't happen because you rescued me."


"Right."


He had to be totally bat shit crazy, if he thought that he wasn't messed up and deranged. The man was an admitted murderer, who had a "don't ask, don't tell" policy with his own mind. Curious. Was I a little mad if I admitted to that being intriguing?


"So what now? You're back, won't that piss off, Veleska?"


"Most definitely but you don't have to worry about that. At least I'm pretty sure that you don't."


"Great. Now, I might have an angry mother after me and for once, it won't be for sleeping with her son."


"Funny you should say that."


Red flag time again. Sound the alarms.


"Oh crap. Hold the phone there pal. Earlier you mentioned that I might be useful, you don't intend to sleep with me, do you? Maybe with a heavy emphasis on me being a "willing participant" in that matter?"


Dillinger look startled. Taken off guard and maybe, even insulted. Really? He's insulted?


"What? No! I never intended for that to happen."


His expression returned to normal as he shook his head and spoke in a softer tone. A sheepish grin dashing across his face.


"I said that it was funny that you said what you did because... incidentally, I slept with my step mother. I'm not proud of it. I didn't know who she was at the time and it resulted in my father killing me. Obviously, I survived that incident, but it was still a low point in my existence."


That was his low point? This man was definitely like no other.


"First off, gross. Secondly, if that's not why you think I might be useful, then what do you think I can help you with, exactly?"


"I'm not completely sure. I heard mumblings and whispers in the Realm of Madness. From the older, more ancient beings, that were trapped there far longer than I and resulted in them becoming an actual, part of the realm. You could hear their words on the very air. Most of it either didn't pertain to me or was complete gibberish. There were a couple of things that stood out though."


"What... stood out?"


"That I have a half brother, he's on Earth and he's a mechanic. There was a name too but I can't seem to recall what it was. I think it started with a G. Gary. Greggo. Gavin. Gustav."


"Griffin?"


"That's it. Griffin."


I started laughing at this point.


"Unbelievable.I work with a Griffin and he's a mechanic; however, I sense that there's something more to him, than meets the eye."


"Where do you work?"


"The XWF."


"The wrestling company. No shit. I used to work there too."


"Really?"


It was Dillinger's turn to laugh. Amused at our mutual connection.


"I used to be the Intercontinental Champ, till I lost to Bearded War Pig."


"Yeah, that's not a thing anymore, but BWP is still around. I'm actually about to defend the Bombshell Title at Leap of Faith."


"Interesting. Maybe I'll join you for that. If anything, I can gather some information on this Griffin, in order to locate his whereabouts. I'm not sure why I'm supposed to find him, all I know was that it seemed urgent and I figured... hey, family's got to help family, or something like that."


"You aren't going to kill him, right?"


"I can't make any promises but I'm a good 84% sure that won't happen."


I wasn't certain what was going to come of this but I figured, at least I knew what he was planning and in that, I'm already way ahead of the game, in case something bad happens. Like the death of Griffin MacAlister, because I let loose a murder hungry, Inter-Dimensional Demi-God from the Realm of Madness. Crap. I'm a terrible person, aren't I?


[Image: W7fMKYk.png]


"Jessalyn Hart. Once again we find ourselves doing the dance. Spinning and twirling, around and around. Where we'll drop. Only time shall know. I see you're very confident and that's good, being confident is key but I've really got to ask you. Is there something wrong with you? Mentally? You're not talking like someone that's... right in the head. You talk about being glad to have a champion like me around and that you respect me, but then you go on to say, that I'm a nobody and I don't mean shit to you. Those are very conflicting statements Jessalyn. Are you saying that you respect people that you don't give a fuck about? I could never practice that type of mentally bent logic, mostly cause I'm not off my rocker. If someone earned my respect, then they mean something. It means they did something to achieve that respect. They accomplished something in my eyes. Did a worthy task or committed a deed to bring notice to them. You can't respect someone that you don't give a fuck about. Respect is giving a fuck. If you don't give a fuck about them, then how do you grant that person props or respect? Unless, you pass around the word respect like candy. In which case, you're as bad as the people that you point your finger at and call out, for being unworthy or nothing. Your words carry zero weight. You mean nothing. Remember you're own statements brought on these conclusions."


"I'm also not clear on what cutting promos and defending a title has in common. A promo is just a video recording, that someone puts out in order to address another opponent. It has nothing to do with the results of our future combat. It doesn't mean that I'm not going to show up for the fight because I don't address you, in a timely fashion. You're all reared up and ready to go, good for you. You've got spunk. You're driven. Fantastic. I'm ecstatic to defend the title at Leap of Faith. Recorded words, don't affect that but it's obvious, that you truly believe that it does. That doesn't make me furious at you. Even with you throwing insults at me, I'm not angry or upset. I'm puzzled. Confused. It makes me wonder, if you might be off your meds? If that's the case, I suggest you notify someone and see about getting back on them. I'm pretty sure Vinnie Lane doesn't want to start paying money out to innocent bystanders that you might injure on your way to the ring. You might walk through the arena and see gremlins trying to attack you and start beating on them, only for them to wind up being children. I am fairly certain Mr. Lane doesn't want that lawsuit. So since you're all wrapped up and concerned, with how someone might act, perhaps you should take a look at yourself and see, you're the one that's been acting out of place. Seek help, Jessalyn. I implore you."


"As for you, Isabel Mercier. I don't really know much about you but I truly hope, that you can hold your senses in place, far better than Jessalyn. From what I heard about you from her, you have a client, so that must mean that you're a manager of some kind. Right off the bat, that tells me that you can handle yourself. That you're of a stable mind. I could be wrong but I would think that having and maintaining the responsibility of a client, means constant clear thinking. Heh. Please don't let me be wrong. As far as you not having any wrestling experience. I don't judge you on that. I've learned that people can surprise you. In both good and bad ways. However, I'm willing to lay stake on the possibility, that you'll bring the right element that this match needs. A fresh perspective." ]]> <![CDATA[A moment of clarity]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31891 Fri, 20 Jul 2018 23:54:05 -0700 Jessalyn Hart]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31891 Jessalyn sits in her room waiting for Alexi to get back with dinner. The moments like this what she missed the most. Staying up late and eating bad take from some place no one has heard of. It's the simple things that you sane and lead to moments of clarity.


So, I have been thinking lately what is the point of all of this. By this I mean putting all of this time and effort into doing want you love other people won't take the time to do the same. I work day in and day out and try to be the best I can be. That doesn't always work out for me,but I've come to terms with that. What I haven't come to terms with and probably never will is half - asses.

I get it sometimes you don't have the energy to do it. Or your like other people who say"I will show you in my actions." I have seen both ideas work and both ideas fail miserably. So to that I wonder why do we allow people to be here if they won't work. It's like having a handicapped kid sweep your lot on the weekend. It makes you feel good, they are happy and you don't have to do the work yourself. Although not of that matters when you have to go behind them and do it again.

That is what I feel is the issue here, I feel like you guys don't wanna work. I think that you guys presume that you can just keep sweeping the lot and Mr. Lane will give that 20 bucks her promised. That is all fine and good but what does it accomplish if I have to come clean it up. This is the message I have to clean up. Nyx and Isabelle singing up to do work and never in the effort. They get the 20 bucks and get to do more work.

Not this time, I am taking that 20 bucks and that title and you two can fight over gets to shove the broom up each other's ass first.]]> Jessalyn sits in her room waiting for Alexi to get back with dinner. The moments like this what she missed the most. Staying up late and eating bad take from some place no one has heard of. It's the simple things that you sane and lead to moments of clarity.


So, I have been thinking lately what is the point of all of this. By this I mean putting all of this time and effort into doing want you love other people won't take the time to do the same. I work day in and day out and try to be the best I can be. That doesn't always work out for me,but I've come to terms with that. What I haven't come to terms with and probably never will is half - asses.

I get it sometimes you don't have the energy to do it. Or your like other people who say"I will show you in my actions." I have seen both ideas work and both ideas fail miserably. So to that I wonder why do we allow people to be here if they won't work. It's like having a handicapped kid sweep your lot on the weekend. It makes you feel good, they are happy and you don't have to do the work yourself. Although not of that matters when you have to go behind them and do it again.

That is what I feel is the issue here, I feel like you guys don't wanna work. I think that you guys presume that you can just keep sweeping the lot and Mr. Lane will give that 20 bucks her promised. That is all fine and good but what does it accomplish if I have to come clean it up. This is the message I have to clean up. Nyx and Isabelle singing up to do work and never in the effort. They get the 20 bucks and get to do more work.

Not this time, I am taking that 20 bucks and that title and you two can fight over gets to shove the broom up each other's ass first.]]> <![CDATA[Posthumous]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31888 Fri, 20 Jul 2018 22:29:38 -0700 Chris Chaos]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31888 Puppets on strings, moving to the beat of invisible drums.

That is all we are.

Being controlled by a force we cannot see, hear, or even comprehend. Some people believe in spirits, and the dead watching over you. Some people believe in the supernatural.

Charles Brady never did. As a police officer, he had seen a lot of crazy things. Stuff he could never even explain. He liked to think it hardened him. He would never be prepared for what he was about to see.

It was a raining night, so thick you could barely see two feet in front of you. Mother nature never affected work, however, and people still were in a rush to leave at clock out time, causing traffic in the city. People couldn't drive in the nice weather, much less this. Charles chuckled to himself as he lit a cigarette.

The radio was chirping more than normal today, but nothing that really concerned him. In the distance, traffic seemed to be stopped more than usual. A yellowish light was glowing through the teeming rain. Florida was weird like that, it could be raining in one spot and not raining 10 feet away. Up the road about a half mile was cloudy, but a bright cloud. No rain.

What was that light? It looked too orange to be headlights, and too orange to be tail lights. A blur of white came into view as he drove out of the rain. It was a tractor trailor truck, and it was sitting across three lanes, the cab twisted and flames creeping from under the hood. Immediately, his training came into play. He sped over to the shoulder and jumped out of his patrol car. The darkness was creeping up as the sun was setting under the clouds. Inside the cabin was a man, one could only assume was the truck driver. He seemed to be fumbling with the seatbelt. The way the cab was twisted, he was pinned. Flames were creeping up over the hood and into the cabin.

Charles jumped onto the steprails and pulled open the door, assuring the man that he was okay and that state police were here to help. The man didn't seem so sure, as he was beginning to get agitated that he couldn't get something as simple as a seatbelt to unbuckle. Flames were now coming under the floorboards.

Both men wrestled for what seemed like an eternity before a poof of flames knocked Charles off the truck step rails and onto the pavement. The people in traffic behind watched in horror as the cabin burst into flames. Charles was a bit woozy from the fall, but when he came too he could hear the worst sound he ever thought he could hear. The man screaming, almost shrieking. It was the most soul-crushing sound he could ever hear. The door was wide open now, and the man's lower body and torso, along with one arm and side of face, were covered in the orange blaze.

The man was begging Charles to shoot him. Shoot him, just end it. Tell his wife he loves her, and to shoot him. In the day and age that this took place, there were certain protocals that police had to follow. Charles couldn't shoot him, because if he did he could be booked for murder.

Democracy, huh?

The man screamed again, pleading with Charles. He didn't want to die this way, he didn't want his wife to know he burned to death. He wanted to go peacefully, because he was already going to need a closed casket. Charles held onto his gun, it aimed at the man. His hands shook. He was contemplating throwing it all away for a simple act of compassion that was more like a Leap of Faith. This man was concerned about his wife, but what about Charles's wife and kids? If he was in jail.....

The man was already starting to melt a little, but still fully conscious. Charles took his leap of faith, made his decision. He pulled the trigger and the man stopped thrashing. He then sat down, shaking, as the rain began and the EMT's and firetrucks arrived.

Charles did face some legal reprecussions for this, but it helped him sleep at night knowing what he did. The truckers wife decided not to press charges, and in fact thanked him for his act of compassion during a time when compassion wasn't "protocal". All charges were eventually dropped, but the word got around about what Charles. Most civilians understood, and loved him for it. Most officers hated that he was loved for breaking protocal. The natural human emotion is jealousy in this situation.

Several years later, in fact, only a few short years ago, Charles was now happily retired. His kids were in college, his marriage was stable, and his pension paid the bills. He was driving down I-4 in Florida, the same road that the truck incident happened all those years ago, when it began to rain down in buckets again. Looking around, he couldn't help but think about those actions on the road. He began to question again if it was the right thing to do. There were tractor trailers seemingly all around him. I-4 was always loaded with the damned things. As the main road that leads between two of Florida's largest cities, a lot of stuff was transported this way. In front of him was a small car. Suddenly, the truck in front of the small sedan skidded to a stop. There was something in the road. Charles was too consumed in his flashbacks to see it. When he finally came to his senses, he noticed out of the corner of his eye--he had good perephrial vision from his years on the force--something next to him. He thought for sure he was hallucinating, but when he turne his head, there was a ghostly figure on the seat next to him, staring directly at him.

It was the man from the truck that he mercy-killed all those years ago. His shadowy face was grossly disfigured from the burns, and his hands were charred stubs, but Charles could still clearly make out fingers. Charred, but there. Just then, the ghost reached out and grabbed the wheel, having some mass behind it. It swerved the car out of the way as the tractor trailer behind his car, whose brakes gave out, came barreling forward.

It crashed into the car that was in front of him, crushing it against the stopped tractor trailer in front of it. The car flew into a ditch along the side of the road, but all Charles could see and hear was the explosion. That would have been him. The charred ghost was gone. That would have been him had the man not come back. The trucker had saved Charles in remembrence of the good deed he did all those years ago.

His leap of faith.


There was a makeshift platform set up on the edge of the graveyard, the hole from Jim's grave still sitting wide open in the earth all around it. The stage was rickety, and looked as though it could fall apart at any time. On the stage were puppets, all of which were decapitated, their heads on stakes behind them. Graves, Kuhn, Main, Erebus, Gilmour, Bourbon.

A puppet is free, as long as he loves his strings.


That is the confinement we all stay in. Puppets get puppeted, and for the members of this match, at least a number of them, were having their strings pulled long after the puppeteer had passed. Main and Graves were still being controlled by the dead puppet master Jim Caedus. Especially Main, who can't survive on his own. Graves needs to hang onto anything, and he always looms in the shadow of how "good he was" back when AX3 was around. Both of them needed Jim more than anything else and when he was taken they both lost their sense of direction. Main is lost without his father, the redneck known as Jim Caedus.

In a way, Caedus still has an impact on everyone here. He is sitting there on his ripped couch that sits in his front yard and surrdounded by crushed Busch Light cans. That sounds like the best kind of redneck afterlife. Robert Main isn't far behind. He already lives his life with the visions of a world where everyone wears biker gang cuts and doesn't wash their hair.

Bourbon tries to model himself after Jimmy by talking out of his ass and making outrageous claims, then getting butt hurt when someone else makes claims of a similar nature. So fat, but so sensitive. So fragile. A man with so much potential wasted on Golden Corral and internet trolling. Shame.

Gilmour is the same descriptive as above, except he at least is self concious about it.

Finn and Azrael, Jimmy doesn't really apply to them. Other than that time when Jim DOMINATED Finn, remember that? The King of the Ring tournament when Jim ate him alive? Other than that, these two have no relevance here, but they needed to lose their heads too because fuck them.

Chris sat there with a look on his face, almost as if in a trance. Almost possessed.

"Jim talks to me from beyond the grave. He talks to me everyday. He says he is no longer paranoid, no longer hates himself, and no longer worries. He tells me that my time is now, and that he wants to see me shine. Except, he has a lot of heaven cum on his beard so he kinda looks like Santa and that makes me smile. For real though, he told me to go win this match. He told me that Robert Main is an embarrassment to his legacy. That Graves is older than Larry King, and like Larry King was still trying to hang on to some sort of purpose in life. He told me to end him. Jimmy then told me that Azrael Erebus is a freak, and he trusts him less than he trusts the establishment. He thinks he is a for holding the Bombshell Title and we all know how Jimmy feels about fags. The same way he feels about everyone else, really. The same way he feels about his so called "friends"."

Suddenly Chris breaks out in a maniacle laugh.

"I'm just kidding. Jim Caedus didn't say anything, because I killed him. I silenced him forever. Just like this Sunday Night I am going to silence every single one of my doubters and win that briefcase. Chris Chaos WILL be the next Universal Champion.......and any hope you have to stop it has about the same chance of survival as Jim did.......Jim was Equalized, and now at Leap of Faith, Chaos and EMPIRE will rise to the top."

Chris laughs like a hyena in the darkness as the camera pans to the puppets and their blank stares......somewhere in their eyes, it looked like.......fear.

Chaos Is Coming. ]]> Puppets on strings, moving to the beat of invisible drums.

That is all we are.

Being controlled by a force we cannot see, hear, or even comprehend. Some people believe in spirits, and the dead watching over you. Some people believe in the supernatural.

Charles Brady never did. As a police officer, he had seen a lot of crazy things. Stuff he could never even explain. He liked to think it hardened him. He would never be prepared for what he was about to see.

It was a raining night, so thick you could barely see two feet in front of you. Mother nature never affected work, however, and people still were in a rush to leave at clock out time, causing traffic in the city. People couldn't drive in the nice weather, much less this. Charles chuckled to himself as he lit a cigarette.

The radio was chirping more than normal today, but nothing that really concerned him. In the distance, traffic seemed to be stopped more than usual. A yellowish light was glowing through the teeming rain. Florida was weird like that, it could be raining in one spot and not raining 10 feet away. Up the road about a half mile was cloudy, but a bright cloud. No rain.

What was that light? It looked too orange to be headlights, and too orange to be tail lights. A blur of white came into view as he drove out of the rain. It was a tractor trailor truck, and it was sitting across three lanes, the cab twisted and flames creeping from under the hood. Immediately, his training came into play. He sped over to the shoulder and jumped out of his patrol car. The darkness was creeping up as the sun was setting under the clouds. Inside the cabin was a man, one could only assume was the truck driver. He seemed to be fumbling with the seatbelt. The way the cab was twisted, he was pinned. Flames were creeping up over the hood and into the cabin.

Charles jumped onto the steprails and pulled open the door, assuring the man that he was okay and that state police were here to help. The man didn't seem so sure, as he was beginning to get agitated that he couldn't get something as simple as a seatbelt to unbuckle. Flames were now coming under the floorboards.

Both men wrestled for what seemed like an eternity before a poof of flames knocked Charles off the truck step rails and onto the pavement. The people in traffic behind watched in horror as the cabin burst into flames. Charles was a bit woozy from the fall, but when he came too he could hear the worst sound he ever thought he could hear. The man screaming, almost shrieking. It was the most soul-crushing sound he could ever hear. The door was wide open now, and the man's lower body and torso, along with one arm and side of face, were covered in the orange blaze.

The man was begging Charles to shoot him. Shoot him, just end it. Tell his wife he loves her, and to shoot him. In the day and age that this took place, there were certain protocals that police had to follow. Charles couldn't shoot him, because if he did he could be booked for murder.

Democracy, huh?

The man screamed again, pleading with Charles. He didn't want to die this way, he didn't want his wife to know he burned to death. He wanted to go peacefully, because he was already going to need a closed casket. Charles held onto his gun, it aimed at the man. His hands shook. He was contemplating throwing it all away for a simple act of compassion that was more like a Leap of Faith. This man was concerned about his wife, but what about Charles's wife and kids? If he was in jail.....

The man was already starting to melt a little, but still fully conscious. Charles took his leap of faith, made his decision. He pulled the trigger and the man stopped thrashing. He then sat down, shaking, as the rain began and the EMT's and firetrucks arrived.

Charles did face some legal reprecussions for this, but it helped him sleep at night knowing what he did. The truckers wife decided not to press charges, and in fact thanked him for his act of compassion during a time when compassion wasn't "protocal". All charges were eventually dropped, but the word got around about what Charles. Most civilians understood, and loved him for it. Most officers hated that he was loved for breaking protocal. The natural human emotion is jealousy in this situation.

Several years later, in fact, only a few short years ago, Charles was now happily retired. His kids were in college, his marriage was stable, and his pension paid the bills. He was driving down I-4 in Florida, the same road that the truck incident happened all those years ago, when it began to rain down in buckets again. Looking around, he couldn't help but think about those actions on the road. He began to question again if it was the right thing to do. There were tractor trailers seemingly all around him. I-4 was always loaded with the damned things. As the main road that leads between two of Florida's largest cities, a lot of stuff was transported this way. In front of him was a small car. Suddenly, the truck in front of the small sedan skidded to a stop. There was something in the road. Charles was too consumed in his flashbacks to see it. When he finally came to his senses, he noticed out of the corner of his eye--he had good perephrial vision from his years on the force--something next to him. He thought for sure he was hallucinating, but when he turne his head, there was a ghostly figure on the seat next to him, staring directly at him.

It was the man from the truck that he mercy-killed all those years ago. His shadowy face was grossly disfigured from the burns, and his hands were charred stubs, but Charles could still clearly make out fingers. Charred, but there. Just then, the ghost reached out and grabbed the wheel, having some mass behind it. It swerved the car out of the way as the tractor trailer behind his car, whose brakes gave out, came barreling forward.

It crashed into the car that was in front of him, crushing it against the stopped tractor trailer in front of it. The car flew into a ditch along the side of the road, but all Charles could see and hear was the explosion. That would have been him. The charred ghost was gone. That would have been him had the man not come back. The trucker had saved Charles in remembrence of the good deed he did all those years ago.

His leap of faith.


There was a makeshift platform set up on the edge of the graveyard, the hole from Jim's grave still sitting wide open in the earth all around it. The stage was rickety, and looked as though it could fall apart at any time. On the stage were puppets, all of which were decapitated, their heads on stakes behind them. Graves, Kuhn, Main, Erebus, Gilmour, Bourbon.

A puppet is free, as long as he loves his strings.


That is the confinement we all stay in. Puppets get puppeted, and for the members of this match, at least a number of them, were having their strings pulled long after the puppeteer had passed. Main and Graves were still being controlled by the dead puppet master Jim Caedus. Especially Main, who can't survive on his own. Graves needs to hang onto anything, and he always looms in the shadow of how "good he was" back when AX3 was around. Both of them needed Jim more than anything else and when he was taken they both lost their sense of direction. Main is lost without his father, the redneck known as Jim Caedus.

In a way, Caedus still has an impact on everyone here. He is sitting there on his ripped couch that sits in his front yard and surrdounded by crushed Busch Light cans. That sounds like the best kind of redneck afterlife. Robert Main isn't far behind. He already lives his life with the visions of a world where everyone wears biker gang cuts and doesn't wash their hair.

Bourbon tries to model himself after Jimmy by talking out of his ass and making outrageous claims, then getting butt hurt when someone else makes claims of a similar nature. So fat, but so sensitive. So fragile. A man with so much potential wasted on Golden Corral and internet trolling. Shame.

Gilmour is the same descriptive as above, except he at least is self concious about it.

Finn and Azrael, Jimmy doesn't really apply to them. Other than that time when Jim DOMINATED Finn, remember that? The King of the Ring tournament when Jim ate him alive? Other than that, these two have no relevance here, but they needed to lose their heads too because fuck them.

Chris sat there with a look on his face, almost as if in a trance. Almost possessed.

"Jim talks to me from beyond the grave. He talks to me everyday. He says he is no longer paranoid, no longer hates himself, and no longer worries. He tells me that my time is now, and that he wants to see me shine. Except, he has a lot of heaven cum on his beard so he kinda looks like Santa and that makes me smile. For real though, he told me to go win this match. He told me that Robert Main is an embarrassment to his legacy. That Graves is older than Larry King, and like Larry King was still trying to hang on to some sort of purpose in life. He told me to end him. Jimmy then told me that Azrael Erebus is a freak, and he trusts him less than he trusts the establishment. He thinks he is a for holding the Bombshell Title and we all know how Jimmy feels about fags. The same way he feels about everyone else, really. The same way he feels about his so called "friends"."

Suddenly Chris breaks out in a maniacle laugh.

"I'm just kidding. Jim Caedus didn't say anything, because I killed him. I silenced him forever. Just like this Sunday Night I am going to silence every single one of my doubters and win that briefcase. Chris Chaos WILL be the next Universal Champion.......and any hope you have to stop it has about the same chance of survival as Jim did.......Jim was Equalized, and now at Leap of Faith, Chaos and EMPIRE will rise to the top."

Chris laughs like a hyena in the darkness as the camera pans to the puppets and their blank stares......somewhere in their eyes, it looked like.......fear.

Chaos Is Coming. ]]> <![CDATA[Black Star]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31890 Fri, 20 Jul 2018 20:35:36 -0700 The Engineer]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31890
ENGY Recap....

Joachim Bright, part-time XWF athlete, also just so happens to be the Engineer's son. Joachim used to try to help his father overcome his baser desires, leading him down the path towards being a decent human being. But he soon learned that there is not much decency left in The Engineer.

The Engineer has also claimed in the past that Joachim was conceived during an occult ritual, a horrific accusation the boy has naturally tried to run from. But with his father up to something ominous and dark forces seeming to gather, Joachim can't resist making one last run at trying to understand his father's role in all of this....




QUOTATIONS
(Verb)
1. The lazy man's way to make a point or establish a theme
2. The lamest promo technique
3. Eat turd, Pest


Oh, was that sufficiently entertaining?

Engy posits this question as he sits at an unknown bar. The glass in front of him is half drained, clearly he's been nursing it for a short while. He looks down at it, revolving it on the coaster absent mindedly, before returning his attention to the camera.

”Real talk”. Thanks for verifying my hood 'cred. I'll be expecting my membership card in the mail anytime now.

He picks the glass up and drains the rest without batting an eye. Planting the glass back down on the coaster gently, he clears his throat and motions to the bartender for another before continuing.

So, let me preface this by saying that what I'm about to do is known in the biz as “verbal castration”. Allow me to explain. I'm going to systematically break down everything you said, open numerous bleeding wounds in your words, shit in them, seal them back up, drag them into the woods and allow them to die agonizingly of infection. But this is what you wanted right? Right.

He splays his hands out in front of him, cracking his knuckles. He then takes another shot of the drink that was just delivered to him. He gargles it, spits it out onto the floor, clears his throat again, and finally looks like he's ready to begin.

First off, a profound “thank you” for that walk down the “inspirational sports story Hall of Fame.” Truly inspiring. Too bad it has fuck all to do with me, or our unique circumstances for that matter. Because in each and every one of those cases, all of those guys who overcame “doubt”, beat the odds and John Cena RAAAAAPPPYYYY-DOOOO'ed their way to a big win weren't facing ME. Moreover, all of those “odds-overcomers” no doubt had a plethora of existing feathers in their cap, or a number of preexisting wins against a litany of talent that brought them to the dance, so to speak. You, on the other hand, have an entirely unremarkable record aside from the night where you managed to outlast a bunch of also-rans. You are entirely unproven and your track record is pretty goddamn unimpressive. A fact you are naturally loathe to admit....

Quote:I haven’t beaten any of the champions in this company; I’m not too proud to own up to that. But, I’ve never made a single excuse since day one. I’ve owned every loss I’ve earned (key word earned); but also, I’ve embraced those losses.

Oh.

Engy scratches the back of his head and mouths “awkwaaaaard”.

Let's continue. You said I've given you “nothing”? Huh. Well, I'm gonna go ahead and assume you meant to say“nothing aside from two definitive promos that I readily admitted I wasn't able to refute.” I'm sorry bitch, were you expecting a minstrel show? Some celebrity guest stars? I mean, Kevin Spacey's been blowing up my voicemail desperate for work, and that's AFTER I superkicked him in the face. You wanted me to “creatively” tell you you suck? Okay, I'll oblige.

A sparkly pony graphic appears on screen. It glides over a rainbow, leaving a trail of runny pink shits in it's wake. The shit spells out “Pestalance blows ass.”

That get you wet? I'll let you in on a little tactic of mine Pesty. I save the good shit for when it matters. When I really need to get in somebody's head and force them to question which way is up, that's when I bust out all the tricks of the trade. I don't need to do that with you because speaking the plain truth of the matter, a truth (once again), you COULD NOT refute, is sufficient and decisive.

Also, that whole “your promos suck because I said so” chestnut? That in it of itself, sucks ass. It's like the Inception of sucking ass. A dream within a dream within a dream of nonstop ass sucking so prolific Bilbo Brommer Blumpkinz has an erection hundreds of miles away and he has no idea why. And all these accusations coming from the guy who spent half his promo summarizing what all the main event competitors at the PPV had to say. Huh.

Engy pretends to pass out and starts snoring. Suddenly, he darts awake and chuckles.

And then Finn Kuhn. Let's talk about Finn Kuhn. The last guy I supposedly busted out my A-game promo material on. I for one thought the shit I did against Jackie Peppers was pretty funny, but I might be a tad biased. Plus, unlike you, Jackie's a bit more fun than watching paint dry on top of growing grass.

But let's discuss the match where Finn Kuhn was “kicking my ass”. Yes, Finn got in some good offense. He usually does. Right before that twiggy Kraut body of his starts getting gassed and his brain turns to mush and he inevitably fucks it all up and disappoints everyone. IE. WHAT HE DOES EVERY TIME.

You DO understand that wrestling isn't graded like figure skating, right? That one's performance during the match doesn't make a damn bit of difference if they didn't get the dubya? A lot of people got some good licks on me, but it doesn't fucking matter if they couldn't BEAT me. You know what kind of people need to hang their hats on “boy I sure put up a good fight” and “gee, I took so and so the limit”?

Fucking LOSERS, Pest. Guys like you who can't seal the deal against the best so you play up fighting the good fight like it's something to be proud of. It's not. No matter what some of the more bitch ass members of the XWF may tell you to try to console you and keep mediocre guys like you around so you can keep making them look good by comparison, I'm gonna give it to you straight. If it ain't a win, it ain't shit. Finn Kuhn ain't shit and you ain't shit. And you know what else ain't shit?

Your “journey”.

Engy spits these last two words out with derision. He downs the rest of this drink too and puts the glass down none too gently this time.

Let's talk about “journey's”, huh? You spent a year in Grand Nippon honing your craft? Bully. But you should probably get your money back from whatever bunk ass dojo was training you. You know what my “journey” was?

Years of mental illness.

Years of playing the fool.

Years of eating literal garbage out of dumpsters and earning bus fare fighting for Youtube videos.

Years of being unable and unwilling to acknowledge the trauma that was inflicted on me.

Years of clawing my way through this business to finally reach the XWF.

And then on top of that, once I reached the XWF, MONTHS of being told I still wasn't good enough by people like the guy who runs the show, Vinnie fucking Lane, even as I slaughtered their sacred cows week in and week out.

So you know what, fuck your “journey” college boy! Flying around the world, learning from the “best” like some jet setting Bruce Wayne motherfucker. You ever eat food with mold on it? Huh? You ever shit water for a month after that? Fuck no you haven't. You bitch ass.

And then you said that this is the hardest you've ever worked, this last 6 months? Son, if this is the hardest you've ever worked you are just so incredibly fucked it's beyond belief. Because in the hardest I ever worked in 6 months, I won the Xtreme championship, King of the Ring, and the Universal championship. I started establishing a legacy. You stuck your toe in the water, I dove in the deep end. You spun your wheels, while I roared past the starting line. Insert “me doing great and you sucking balls” metaphor here.

One last turd nugget in the festering open sore that was your boring as shit promo: don't ever conflate an accurate threat assessment with me not giving a shit. I'm not looking as this as just a contractual obligation (though it IS that). Make no mistake, I'm FULLY aware of what this match is for. But the thing you still don't seem to get is that part of what has made me so successful is my ability to know EXACTLY what I'm stepping in the ring with. To look deep down inside an opponent and ascertain what I need to do to keep myself alive and ticking. I've only failed to do that twice in the last 14 months I've been here, so I'd say I'm pretty fucking good at it.

The truth is, that in order to look PAST you I had to look AT you first. And the cold hard fact is that what I saw when I looked AT you didn't even give me pause. You're just not that good. And there's a reason that everybody else in the Leap of Faith match is focusing on me. It's because they see that too. I ain't ignoring the battle Pesty, it's just that all my intel is telling me it's gonna be a rout.

But hey you keep looking at me Pest. You keep your eyes locked right on me. Because quite frankly, you need to. You need that focus, that laser precision if you're going to have a prayer in hell of surviving me. Fuck your strength, fuck your size. I've beaten bigger and stronger many times over. Caedus was a goddamn beast of a man and I beat him twice. What you got that he doesn't? Heh. Get a good long look. Burn that image of me with the Universal Championship into your mind. Because that image? It ain't goin' nowhere. 'Least, not against you.

The Engineer's attention is drawn to the door, where a slim youth in a windbreaker over khaki shorts walks in looking all sorts of out of place. The boy scans the room, finally settling on the Engineer. Engy smirks and waves the boy over, pulling out a stool for him to sit on as he glances back at the camera. Time for some character development now, something you don't know anything about either.

The Engineer's son takes the stool next to his father, but he looks annoyed by the comment. This isn't some storyline bullshit! He hisses, clearly taking offense.

The Engineer splays his hands out defensively. Sorry, sorry. You know what an attention whore I am. Can't help playing to the cameras. He turns to give his son his full attention.

Joachim points out the camera. I want it off.

Anything you want to say can be said in front of the world. I have nothing to hide. Hmmmm.... He peers down at Joachim's midsection. But maybe you do.... The Engineer's hand shoots out and grabs hold of something in Joachim's pocket, but he doesn't remove it.

Joachim starts, grasping the Engineer's wrist. Don't...don't you....!

Shhhhh...shhhhh. No untoward attention. But that needs to stay right where it is. Really Jo, what were you thinking? That's so unlike you. The Engineer pulls forward towards Jo, and hisses in his ear. Who taught you how to shoot straight?

Joachim pulls his head back from his father's breath, looking equal parts angry and ashamed. You're gonna hurt people....I know it....

I'm gonna hurt people? You're the one walking around with a piece. Which, word to the wise, the jacket in 75 degree weather is one hell of a tell. So what was your end game here kiddo? Shooting me, or just scaring me?

Joachim finally returns his father's gaze, looking steely. It was for protection. I can't trust you.

It's Engy's turn to look taken aback now. He scoffs a bit, but then his features soften abruptly. You really thought I'd......? Jesus, if I wanted to get at you I coulda done it already. He looks around to make sure they still aren't drawing attention. So what exactly is this horrible thing you think I'm gonna do?

Joachim's gaze wavers again. His lip quivers and his body tenses. I don't know. I just have this...this awful feeling...I....

The Engineer nods his head. You can't explain it, can you? But you know. You can feel it. The Black Star. Makes sense. You were made that night.

What are you talking about?

The ritual that bonded me to Aiwass. Made me his Engineer. You were conceived. It's imprinted on you.

Joachim can't betray his horror. He looks at his father like he's trying to contemplate something awful and alien and beyond human ken. Jesus, you're insane. You need help. This...this...I can't help you.... Joachim dismounts his stool, his face growing ashen. The Engineer's hand leaps out and grasps his wrist. Joachim starts to pull but quickly finds he can't escape.

You're the back-up Jo. If I fail, you become The Engineer. If you destroy me you BECOME me.

Joachim pulls desperately now, flush with fear. You're even further gone than I thought. Let me GO!

His shout draws the attention of the other patrons now. The Engineer turns to consider them, smiles discretely, and releases his son. I love you, Jo. It took me a long time to accept that. Which is why I'm going to tell you this now. You're not built for this shit. You're decent and good and kind. I want you to leave this alone.

Joachim, against each and every instinct screaming at him to do otherwise, fails to run. What are you going to do?

What I should have done a long time ago. Accept myself for who and what I'm meant to be.

You don't have to! He says plaintively but quietly.

See, and that's the pisser. I know that. I know I don't HAVE to. He leans forward ever so slightly again. But I WANT to. The Engineer speaks these last words with utter conviction.

Joachim rocks back on his heels, shaking his head with shock and disappointment. Finally, he turns on his father, his face looking almost sorrowful in those last parting moments. Joachim makes his way to the front of the bar and the Engineer watches him go. But he feels something curious now. He instinctively grabs for the napkin in front of him, dabbing at his face to stop the flow of the black bead of liquid that escaped the corner of his eye and fell down his cheek.

[Image: hqdefault.jpg]

Et venit stella tenebris
]]>
ENGY Recap....

Joachim Bright, part-time XWF athlete, also just so happens to be the Engineer's son. Joachim used to try to help his father overcome his baser desires, leading him down the path towards being a decent human being. But he soon learned that there is not much decency left in The Engineer.

The Engineer has also claimed in the past that Joachim was conceived during an occult ritual, a horrific accusation the boy has naturally tried to run from. But with his father up to something ominous and dark forces seeming to gather, Joachim can't resist making one last run at trying to understand his father's role in all of this....




QUOTATIONS
(Verb)
1. The lazy man's way to make a point or establish a theme
2. The lamest promo technique
3. Eat turd, Pest


Oh, was that sufficiently entertaining?

Engy posits this question as he sits at an unknown bar. The glass in front of him is half drained, clearly he's been nursing it for a short while. He looks down at it, revolving it on the coaster absent mindedly, before returning his attention to the camera.

”Real talk”. Thanks for verifying my hood 'cred. I'll be expecting my membership card in the mail anytime now.

He picks the glass up and drains the rest without batting an eye. Planting the glass back down on the coaster gently, he clears his throat and motions to the bartender for another before continuing.

So, let me preface this by saying that what I'm about to do is known in the biz as “verbal castration”. Allow me to explain. I'm going to systematically break down everything you said, open numerous bleeding wounds in your words, shit in them, seal them back up, drag them into the woods and allow them to die agonizingly of infection. But this is what you wanted right? Right.

He splays his hands out in front of him, cracking his knuckles. He then takes another shot of the drink that was just delivered to him. He gargles it, spits it out onto the floor, clears his throat again, and finally looks like he's ready to begin.

First off, a profound “thank you” for that walk down the “inspirational sports story Hall of Fame.” Truly inspiring. Too bad it has fuck all to do with me, or our unique circumstances for that matter. Because in each and every one of those cases, all of those guys who overcame “doubt”, beat the odds and John Cena RAAAAAPPPYYYY-DOOOO'ed their way to a big win weren't facing ME. Moreover, all of those “odds-overcomers” no doubt had a plethora of existing feathers in their cap, or a number of preexisting wins against a litany of talent that brought them to the dance, so to speak. You, on the other hand, have an entirely unremarkable record aside from the night where you managed to outlast a bunch of also-rans. You are entirely unproven and your track record is pretty goddamn unimpressive. A fact you are naturally loathe to admit....

Quote:I haven’t beaten any of the champions in this company; I’m not too proud to own up to that. But, I’ve never made a single excuse since day one. I’ve owned every loss I’ve earned (key word earned); but also, I’ve embraced those losses.

Oh.

Engy scratches the back of his head and mouths “awkwaaaaard”.

Let's continue. You said I've given you “nothing”? Huh. Well, I'm gonna go ahead and assume you meant to say“nothing aside from two definitive promos that I readily admitted I wasn't able to refute.” I'm sorry bitch, were you expecting a minstrel show? Some celebrity guest stars? I mean, Kevin Spacey's been blowing up my voicemail desperate for work, and that's AFTER I superkicked him in the face. You wanted me to “creatively” tell you you suck? Okay, I'll oblige.

A sparkly pony graphic appears on screen. It glides over a rainbow, leaving a trail of runny pink shits in it's wake. The shit spells out “Pestalance blows ass.”

That get you wet? I'll let you in on a little tactic of mine Pesty. I save the good shit for when it matters. When I really need to get in somebody's head and force them to question which way is up, that's when I bust out all the tricks of the trade. I don't need to do that with you because speaking the plain truth of the matter, a truth (once again), you COULD NOT refute, is sufficient and decisive.

Also, that whole “your promos suck because I said so” chestnut? That in it of itself, sucks ass. It's like the Inception of sucking ass. A dream within a dream within a dream of nonstop ass sucking so prolific Bilbo Brommer Blumpkinz has an erection hundreds of miles away and he has no idea why. And all these accusations coming from the guy who spent half his promo summarizing what all the main event competitors at the PPV had to say. Huh.

Engy pretends to pass out and starts snoring. Suddenly, he darts awake and chuckles.

And then Finn Kuhn. Let's talk about Finn Kuhn. The last guy I supposedly busted out my A-game promo material on. I for one thought the shit I did against Jackie Peppers was pretty funny, but I might be a tad biased. Plus, unlike you, Jackie's a bit more fun than watching paint dry on top of growing grass.

But let's discuss the match where Finn Kuhn was “kicking my ass”. Yes, Finn got in some good offense. He usually does. Right before that twiggy Kraut body of his starts getting gassed and his brain turns to mush and he inevitably fucks it all up and disappoints everyone. IE. WHAT HE DOES EVERY TIME.

You DO understand that wrestling isn't graded like figure skating, right? That one's performance during the match doesn't make a damn bit of difference if they didn't get the dubya? A lot of people got some good licks on me, but it doesn't fucking matter if they couldn't BEAT me. You know what kind of people need to hang their hats on “boy I sure put up a good fight” and “gee, I took so and so the limit”?

Fucking LOSERS, Pest. Guys like you who can't seal the deal against the best so you play up fighting the good fight like it's something to be proud of. It's not. No matter what some of the more bitch ass members of the XWF may tell you to try to console you and keep mediocre guys like you around so you can keep making them look good by comparison, I'm gonna give it to you straight. If it ain't a win, it ain't shit. Finn Kuhn ain't shit and you ain't shit. And you know what else ain't shit?

Your “journey”.

Engy spits these last two words out with derision. He downs the rest of this drink too and puts the glass down none too gently this time.

Let's talk about “journey's”, huh? You spent a year in Grand Nippon honing your craft? Bully. But you should probably get your money back from whatever bunk ass dojo was training you. You know what my “journey” was?

Years of mental illness.

Years of playing the fool.

Years of eating literal garbage out of dumpsters and earning bus fare fighting for Youtube videos.

Years of being unable and unwilling to acknowledge the trauma that was inflicted on me.

Years of clawing my way through this business to finally reach the XWF.

And then on top of that, once I reached the XWF, MONTHS of being told I still wasn't good enough by people like the guy who runs the show, Vinnie fucking Lane, even as I slaughtered their sacred cows week in and week out.

So you know what, fuck your “journey” college boy! Flying around the world, learning from the “best” like some jet setting Bruce Wayne motherfucker. You ever eat food with mold on it? Huh? You ever shit water for a month after that? Fuck no you haven't. You bitch ass.

And then you said that this is the hardest you've ever worked, this last 6 months? Son, if this is the hardest you've ever worked you are just so incredibly fucked it's beyond belief. Because in the hardest I ever worked in 6 months, I won the Xtreme championship, King of the Ring, and the Universal championship. I started establishing a legacy. You stuck your toe in the water, I dove in the deep end. You spun your wheels, while I roared past the starting line. Insert “me doing great and you sucking balls” metaphor here.

One last turd nugget in the festering open sore that was your boring as shit promo: don't ever conflate an accurate threat assessment with me not giving a shit. I'm not looking as this as just a contractual obligation (though it IS that). Make no mistake, I'm FULLY aware of what this match is for. But the thing you still don't seem to get is that part of what has made me so successful is my ability to know EXACTLY what I'm stepping in the ring with. To look deep down inside an opponent and ascertain what I need to do to keep myself alive and ticking. I've only failed to do that twice in the last 14 months I've been here, so I'd say I'm pretty fucking good at it.

The truth is, that in order to look PAST you I had to look AT you first. And the cold hard fact is that what I saw when I looked AT you didn't even give me pause. You're just not that good. And there's a reason that everybody else in the Leap of Faith match is focusing on me. It's because they see that too. I ain't ignoring the battle Pesty, it's just that all my intel is telling me it's gonna be a rout.

But hey you keep looking at me Pest. You keep your eyes locked right on me. Because quite frankly, you need to. You need that focus, that laser precision if you're going to have a prayer in hell of surviving me. Fuck your strength, fuck your size. I've beaten bigger and stronger many times over. Caedus was a goddamn beast of a man and I beat him twice. What you got that he doesn't? Heh. Get a good long look. Burn that image of me with the Universal Championship into your mind. Because that image? It ain't goin' nowhere. 'Least, not against you.

The Engineer's attention is drawn to the door, where a slim youth in a windbreaker over khaki shorts walks in looking all sorts of out of place. The boy scans the room, finally settling on the Engineer. Engy smirks and waves the boy over, pulling out a stool for him to sit on as he glances back at the camera. Time for some character development now, something you don't know anything about either.

The Engineer's son takes the stool next to his father, but he looks annoyed by the comment. This isn't some storyline bullshit! He hisses, clearly taking offense.

The Engineer splays his hands out defensively. Sorry, sorry. You know what an attention whore I am. Can't help playing to the cameras. He turns to give his son his full attention.

Joachim points out the camera. I want it off.

Anything you want to say can be said in front of the world. I have nothing to hide. Hmmmm.... He peers down at Joachim's midsection. But maybe you do.... The Engineer's hand shoots out and grabs hold of something in Joachim's pocket, but he doesn't remove it.

Joachim starts, grasping the Engineer's wrist. Don't...don't you....!

Shhhhh...shhhhh. No untoward attention. But that needs to stay right where it is. Really Jo, what were you thinking? That's so unlike you. The Engineer pulls forward towards Jo, and hisses in his ear. Who taught you how to shoot straight?

Joachim pulls his head back from his father's breath, looking equal parts angry and ashamed. You're gonna hurt people....I know it....

I'm gonna hurt people? You're the one walking around with a piece. Which, word to the wise, the jacket in 75 degree weather is one hell of a tell. So what was your end game here kiddo? Shooting me, or just scaring me?

Joachim finally returns his father's gaze, looking steely. It was for protection. I can't trust you.

It's Engy's turn to look taken aback now. He scoffs a bit, but then his features soften abruptly. You really thought I'd......? Jesus, if I wanted to get at you I coulda done it already. He looks around to make sure they still aren't drawing attention. So what exactly is this horrible thing you think I'm gonna do?

Joachim's gaze wavers again. His lip quivers and his body tenses. I don't know. I just have this...this awful feeling...I....

The Engineer nods his head. You can't explain it, can you? But you know. You can feel it. The Black Star. Makes sense. You were made that night.

What are you talking about?

The ritual that bonded me to Aiwass. Made me his Engineer. You were conceived. It's imprinted on you.

Joachim can't betray his horror. He looks at his father like he's trying to contemplate something awful and alien and beyond human ken. Jesus, you're insane. You need help. This...this...I can't help you.... Joachim dismounts his stool, his face growing ashen. The Engineer's hand leaps out and grasps his wrist. Joachim starts to pull but quickly finds he can't escape.

You're the back-up Jo. If I fail, you become The Engineer. If you destroy me you BECOME me.

Joachim pulls desperately now, flush with fear. You're even further gone than I thought. Let me GO!

His shout draws the attention of the other patrons now. The Engineer turns to consider them, smiles discretely, and releases his son. I love you, Jo. It took me a long time to accept that. Which is why I'm going to tell you this now. You're not built for this shit. You're decent and good and kind. I want you to leave this alone.

Joachim, against each and every instinct screaming at him to do otherwise, fails to run. What are you going to do?

What I should have done a long time ago. Accept myself for who and what I'm meant to be.

You don't have to! He says plaintively but quietly.

See, and that's the pisser. I know that. I know I don't HAVE to. He leans forward ever so slightly again. But I WANT to. The Engineer speaks these last words with utter conviction.

Joachim rocks back on his heels, shaking his head with shock and disappointment. Finally, he turns on his father, his face looking almost sorrowful in those last parting moments. Joachim makes his way to the front of the bar and the Engineer watches him go. But he feels something curious now. He instinctively grabs for the napkin in front of him, dabbing at his face to stop the flow of the black bead of liquid that escaped the corner of his eye and fell down his cheek.

[Image: hqdefault.jpg]

Et venit stella tenebris
]]> <![CDATA[The Star that ignites his... fire (rp1)]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31889 Fri, 20 Jul 2018 19:00:03 -0700 Azrael Erebus]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31889

When the spaceman was last observed, he was getting a bite to eat at a pizzeria, with the ever notorious, always vivacious - Rebel Star. A chance encounter had brought them together. However, it could have been possible, that it was something more. Perhaps, fate came into play. Maybe it was ol' lady luck, blowing on the dice, before they were tossed down in the high stakes game of life. It could have simply been a case of serendipity. Or just flat out, right place, right time, coincidence. An accidental encounter in its finest. Whatever the reason may have been. There was no denying that there was a spark ignited. That spontaneous, impulse that fueled most of Azrael's, courses in life. The fly by the seat of one's pants attitude that was the driving force behind the actions, so long ago, when an alien took it upon himself, to steal a spaceship.


To set out on a mission and travel the stars, no matter how reckless the journey. That reckless journey... of course, would prove to be extremely chaotic, when it saw that spirited alien crash. Yet from that wreckage, a new Azrael would be born, when the living computer and navigation system; called a Gaia, would bond with his essence. Thus forever altering his genetic coding and transforming him into the spaceman that he is today. If it weren't for his extemporaneous, passionate need for adventure and the urge to act on a compulsion, no matter how impetuous or madcap it was, things might have gone very differently for the man from the stars.


Naturally, then he wouldn't have ever encountered, Rebel Star and been stricken with the need to take her on an adventure, offering up the chance to go wherever or whenever, she'd like. Any dimension, all of time, reality and space. Yes, it's a good thing, that Azrael took that risk, so long ago and continues to thrive on his impulses. Though, one wonders, what sort of spaceman would the universe wind up with, if he hadn't? Not a very entertaining spaceman, it would be safe to wager. No, not a very entertaining spaceman, at all. He'd probably be warming up a bowl of soup right now. Or ironing a pair of slacks. Thankfully, that's not what will be showcased. In fact, it might be better off, if one simply removed the idea from any further thoughts, altogether. Instead, it would be best to remember, the moment when Azrael made Rebel an impossible offer and she accepted. What could she have whispered in the spaceman's ear that night to draw a smirk out onto his face?


Yes... well, all sorts of scandalous thoughts could be provoked; however, a dirty mind's predictions shan't prevail. For rather one of the most simple requests, that could have been uttered was whispered that night. Bringing Rebel Star and Azrael Erebus, to the moon. Yes. The moon. It was the sheer whim of something so truly ordinary and mundane to him, seeming to absolutely amaze and enthrall her, that enticed a smirk to cross his face as he snapped his fingers and brought them to the moon. In the exact time it might take someone, to blink an eye. He gazed at her with mild amusement, as she went through some of the stages that one usually faces, when the spaceman whisks them away. Starting with shock, then bewilderment mixed with a dash of fear, followed by confusion and then settling in on awe. That last bit occurred, when he spun her around and she looked upon Earth, from the moon.


[Image: 0N8gIvC.jpg]


"That's Earth? We're on the moon and that's Earth that we're looking at right now?"


Her obvious questions drew a chuckle from him. Despite her not quite being human, she could still certainly play the role to a tee.


"That's the Earth. We're looking at Earth from the moon."


"Shouldn't we be asphyxiating or decompressing in the vacuum of space?"


"Yes, in theory."


"Then... why aren't we?"


"Well, I assumed that wasn't the desired result. So I created a bubble of oxygen and gravity and encased it around us. Was I wrong to do that? Did you secretly want to die of asphyxiation or decompression in the cold, vacuum of space? Because that's a completely rubbish suicide, if you ask me. I mean, it wouldn't be a very... climactic or dramatic, death. Like going out in a hail of gun fire. Or jumping off a high rise building, wearing a trench coat full of candy, so when you make that inevitable contact with the pavement; down below, you explode like a pinata. Though, speaking from experience, death by implosion - like a supernova, never ceases to amaze... especially, when you come back to life. Except that doesn't really count as a suicide. More of an unforeseen result with a happy twist. So I'm not sure that one counts. Anyway, the space death just leaves you floating. Your skin and blood vaporized after ten seconds of exposure, while your body expands outward like a balloon being filled with air. Then your lungs would collapse, and after 30 seconds you would be paralyzed, if you weren’t already dead by this point. Besides, in space, no one can hear you scream. Yet that could have been the point behind it. I suppose as far as deaths go, the space death is the most macho. No one can say that you eternally tapped out screaming like a sissy, if no one can hear you screaming. This wasn't a suicide mission, was it? Oh I hate it when someone wants to go on one of tho... not that I've ever been asked, you see, I just assume that I'd hate it. Yes, that's right. That's what I really meant to say. I assume that would be quite awful. This isn't that though, right?"


Rebel Star looked at him and shook her head - no, as she laughed. This spaceman was an odd sort, in a slightly charming, neurotic kind of way.


"Then I have to ask... why the moon?"


A brief wistful look passed across her face as she turned her attention towards Earth. Taking a seat upon the rocky surface.


"When I first left the factory in Japan. I remember not knowing what I was going to do or what to expect. It was all very overwhelming. Yet, when I was on that boat sailing for the United States, I looked up and the moon was just so outstandingly, beautiful. Breathtaking almost. The first pretty thing that I witnessed, after waking up in that cold, dark factory. Deemed defective. Sentenced to death. It just stuck out to me. As my first real moment of freedom. Ever since then, I always take a moment to look up at the moon. And remember."


A bittersweet laugh escaped Rebel's lips.


"Now, I'm looking at the Earth from the moon and I gotta say, it's weird but comforting. Almost like a special connection. This probably sounds totally lame to a man that can go anywhere."


Dropping down into a sitting position next to Rebel, Azrael raised his left knee and tucked it under his chin, where he rested his head as he cast his eyes onto Earth.


"No. It's not lame. I understand. I've been alive for so long and I've seen so much, I sometimes forget how spectacular new eyes are. To gaze out at something like this, full of such wonder and fascination. Thank you for sharing. For opening these ancient eyes... anew. The view is quite amazing."


Rebel's attention was placed solely, straight ahead as she looked upon the Earth with her keen, fresh perspective. Totally taken aback by this marvelous vision that she had the spaceman to thank for. She didn't notice as he stated his last words, he was looking sidelong at her.


"It is."


With a small, smile to himself, the spaceman cast his eyes down, momentarily. It would appear the spark was kindling. The question was, would the spaceman take the chance and spin that roulette wheel? Go all in. High stakes style? Or would he let things stay as they were, just a night to remember, with a Star, the moon and a view? Alas, this was fated for only time to reveal.


Meanwhile...


In the far off reaches of space.


Deep within the Jara-Deux Quadrant


Next to the the planet Celerphere.


A fleet of strange looking space vessels; hovered, idly in wait.


[Image: YFNhAvY.jpg]


Within the main hull of the starship, resting at the other vessels' forefront. A small army of hideous space creatures gazed upon a tremendous viewscreen. The image transmitting from it was that of the spaceman and Rebel Star, seated on the moon, enjoying the view of Earth. The sight of this quickly provoked an uproar. Loud grunts of resentment and dissatisfaction, erupted amongst the lot of monstrous beasts. There was pushing and shoving as it was soon becoming clear, these alien freaks were enraged by the sight of something being broadcasted on the monitor. The smart guess, would place the high amount of displeasure, solely upon the man from the stars. After a good portion of this was expelled, one member of this unsightly crew, standing directly in the center of the bunch; at their lead, quickly turned about to face the rest. As he committed this act, an almost immediate hush fell over the ship. It was very apparent after this act, that this one creature held some sort of power or high ranking command over the rest. Though if it wasn't standing in front of them and didn't have this affect over the rest, its ranking wouldn't be as clear. Since all the abnormal aliens looked exactly alike and wore the same strange suit of armor. When you can't decide what to wear assimilate with the herd? Once the bridge of the ship had gone completely silent, the space mutant standing closest to the helm of the ship proceeded to pace; back and forth, in front of the small army of monsters. Stern in tone, this repellent creature began to speak.


[Image: PDg8zje.jpg]


"At long last we have discovered the man who thwarted our most certain victory over the planet Ozuul. Over a thousand years of searching, we will finally have the honor of avenging our ancestors. At long last, we will have our... REVENGE!"


A loud boisterous uprising of cheers and screams soon ensued. As the terrible space monsters began to commit to a ritual, not too unfamiliar with jocks and some drunken male, football fans. Although, this act appeared to be far more, aggressive. These freaks began bashing into one another as the roar of their satisfaction permeated the air.


"Today the Jara-Deux Quadrant. Tomorrow... EARTH!"


If these space freaks weren't fired up before, they sure as heck were fighting ready now. Feverish and madly, delirious with the prospect of what was to come, they started bellowing and beating on each other, all the more. This act seemed to increasingly pump them up even more so as they continued to scream out and holler. One of the creatures was even so excited, he reached out and snapped another's neck. This act wasn't appalling to the rest either. In fact, it raised the volume of the yelling and shouting, ten-fold. As their leader halted his pacing and gazed onto the army - his army, with pride. A sinister smirk, slowly overtook his bulbous, potato shaped head.


[Image: hftDcyV.png]


"Leap Of Faith, brings into view, the option of achieving a briefcase. A chance to face the Engineer. To once again, attempt to claim that Universal title. I have to say, the goal doesn't really scream out to me. As a 2x Universal Champion, why would it? Everyone else contending for the chance to win, it's all so exciting and fresh for them. Save For Robbie and Mr. Chaos. Their hungry eyes are practically devouring that prize. However, I've feel a tad off, about the whole thing. Yes, it's an amazing opportunity. I can't deny that. The Engineer is a mighty force to be reckoned with. Yet I can't help but feel complacent about the whole matter. I actually believe the others are more deserving. That's the honest truth. I know there are times that I can be quite boastful but in this moment, I'm feeling like a different sort of spaceman. Haha! Perhaps my age is finally catching up to me."


"After all, it isn't everyday that Peter Gilmour, will get this type of opportunity. Or wait. That's not right, is it? He simply won't pull it off. The little engine that could but just... never does. He can't. Not when it really counts and he's got to do it, all on his own. Alone. Like a lump of bobbing meat in a shark tank. No, he sure can't. Go on Peter, bring up my recent loss against, Robert Main. Or my loss against D'Ville. Act like we're equals. Please do that. Because even though most of my footage has mysteriously vanished, the history books remain intact and if we were to weigh each other on a giant scale of accomplishments... well, it would be the first time your fat ass tipped the scale in the other direction. Imagine that! The very first time someone besides Robbie Bourbon outweighed you."


"You think I'm afraid of you Peter? That is absolutely adorable. I mean that. Truly, I do. That is literally the most precious thing I've ever heard. I want to hang the moment that you uttered those words on my fridge, so I can always look fondly upon it and remember, the exact moment when I buried you in a pile of blood, cum and shit. Hey Mister Selective Memory. That happened. And it was so worth the repulsiveness. Because even if you deny it and I'm a hundred, million percent certain that you will, every time I look you in the eye, I remember it and I know deep down, you remember it too."


"Enough wasting time though. Lets trek onward to our most deserving candidates, shall we? Starting off with, Christopher Chaos. Peter's former tag partner and role model. I'm not going to lie, you are... in your own way, impressive. You carried Peter Gilmour to victory, like only a tiny handful, can relate with. That is amazing. It's also incredibly stupid. Why you would even put yourself through that is beyond me. What possessed you when Peter, posed this horrible idea to you, that made you think that it was a good plan? Like at what point did you get taken over by the demon of "bad ideas"? Was it before or after you took the meeting with Peter? Come on, don't you dare say, that it was for the challenge. Don't do it, Chris. Don't lie to me. I've been around too long to not know when a possession is occurring. You had to be controlled by some other worldly force. I seen and recognized that. I refuse to believe there was any other reason fueling this choice. I just flat out won't."


"Oh, and while you're getting back to me with the answer on that, why don't you tell me how you gathered that I lost all my matches, since my return? Hmmm? Cause in all seriousness, that's mind boggling. Yes, I have lost two matches, I admit that but lets face it, if you took my place for just one of those matches. Either one will suffice in this example. You more than likely would have died. Or just wish that you were killed. Oh yeah. You would most definitely wish for death. While you recovered, slowly and I mean... slowly. If you ever did fully bounce back to wrestling, you wouldn't be back for a few years. If that. Meanwhile, I can take on the best. Commit to a fight and be tested to my limits, and then go out casually for brunch with my daughter, the very next day. Imagine that. Human. So please bring it. You know, what I'll even help you. I'll do my best to aid you in achieving the prime directive of this fight. To victory. That's right. I certainly will do my best. You know, without making it look too obvious. Why? Why will I do this, Christopher? Because your loss to the Engineer, will be so fucking worth it."


"Michael Graves and Robert Main. I actually legitimately think that you both deserve this. Though, either of you facing Engy, won't nearly be as entertaining as Chris Chaos doing it. I mean, you both know that, right? Sure you do. Peter Gilmour? It's a given loss. Flat out. Been there. Done that. It's literally, a revolving door of examples at this point, to use as a reason for why his loss would be a given. Chris Chaos though, now that's entertainment. Just seeing him get up there and try. Hilarious!"


"On a serious note though, you both are talented and extremely gifted in the ring. Graves it's an honor to face you, for the first time. Admittedly, I didn't view your promos, so I don't know if you feel the same way but in truth, it doesn't really matter cause I respect you in the field of wrestling, regardless. I'm aware of your accomplishments and at some point, I hope to face you, one on one. Robert Main, you put up a heck of a fight. I appreciate it. I do, I prefer the challenge, to the prize. Although, if I hadn't taken you out and gave you more time to recover, we might be telling a different tale. So your welcome for that. You got to face me at a hundred percent. Or damn near close to a hundred percent. Either way, I was the one, who made that happen. Remember that and know that I still haven't forgotten about the favor you owe me."


"Robbie Bourbon and Finn Kuhn. I'll get to you both later. I think I've shared all that I need to. For now. Don't get me wrong, you both are deserving of a shot at the briefcase, that leads you to the prospect of achieving gold. For two very different reasons. Yet, legit reasons, nonetheless. Still, I think those can wait. Till next time."]]>

When the spaceman was last observed, he was getting a bite to eat at a pizzeria, with the ever notorious, always vivacious - Rebel Star. A chance encounter had brought them together. However, it could have been possible, that it was something more. Perhaps, fate came into play. Maybe it was ol' lady luck, blowing on the dice, before they were tossed down in the high stakes game of life. It could have simply been a case of serendipity. Or just flat out, right place, right time, coincidence. An accidental encounter in its finest. Whatever the reason may have been. There was no denying that there was a spark ignited. That spontaneous, impulse that fueled most of Azrael's, courses in life. The fly by the seat of one's pants attitude that was the driving force behind the actions, so long ago, when an alien took it upon himself, to steal a spaceship.


To set out on a mission and travel the stars, no matter how reckless the journey. That reckless journey... of course, would prove to be extremely chaotic, when it saw that spirited alien crash. Yet from that wreckage, a new Azrael would be born, when the living computer and navigation system; called a Gaia, would bond with his essence. Thus forever altering his genetic coding and transforming him into the spaceman that he is today. If it weren't for his extemporaneous, passionate need for adventure and the urge to act on a compulsion, no matter how impetuous or madcap it was, things might have gone very differently for the man from the stars.


Naturally, then he wouldn't have ever encountered, Rebel Star and been stricken with the need to take her on an adventure, offering up the chance to go wherever or whenever, she'd like. Any dimension, all of time, reality and space. Yes, it's a good thing, that Azrael took that risk, so long ago and continues to thrive on his impulses. Though, one wonders, what sort of spaceman would the universe wind up with, if he hadn't? Not a very entertaining spaceman, it would be safe to wager. No, not a very entertaining spaceman, at all. He'd probably be warming up a bowl of soup right now. Or ironing a pair of slacks. Thankfully, that's not what will be showcased. In fact, it might be better off, if one simply removed the idea from any further thoughts, altogether. Instead, it would be best to remember, the moment when Azrael made Rebel an impossible offer and she accepted. What could she have whispered in the spaceman's ear that night to draw a smirk out onto his face?


Yes... well, all sorts of scandalous thoughts could be provoked; however, a dirty mind's predictions shan't prevail. For rather one of the most simple requests, that could have been uttered was whispered that night. Bringing Rebel Star and Azrael Erebus, to the moon. Yes. The moon. It was the sheer whim of something so truly ordinary and mundane to him, seeming to absolutely amaze and enthrall her, that enticed a smirk to cross his face as he snapped his fingers and brought them to the moon. In the exact time it might take someone, to blink an eye. He gazed at her with mild amusement, as she went through some of the stages that one usually faces, when the spaceman whisks them away. Starting with shock, then bewilderment mixed with a dash of fear, followed by confusion and then settling in on awe. That last bit occurred, when he spun her around and she looked upon Earth, from the moon.


[Image: 0N8gIvC.jpg]


"That's Earth? We're on the moon and that's Earth that we're looking at right now?"


Her obvious questions drew a chuckle from him. Despite her not quite being human, she could still certainly play the role to a tee.


"That's the Earth. We're looking at Earth from the moon."


"Shouldn't we be asphyxiating or decompressing in the vacuum of space?"


"Yes, in theory."


"Then... why aren't we?"


"Well, I assumed that wasn't the desired result. So I created a bubble of oxygen and gravity and encased it around us. Was I wrong to do that? Did you secretly want to die of asphyxiation or decompression in the cold, vacuum of space? Because that's a completely rubbish suicide, if you ask me. I mean, it wouldn't be a very... climactic or dramatic, death. Like going out in a hail of gun fire. Or jumping off a high rise building, wearing a trench coat full of candy, so when you make that inevitable contact with the pavement; down below, you explode like a pinata. Though, speaking from experience, death by implosion - like a supernova, never ceases to amaze... especially, when you come back to life. Except that doesn't really count as a suicide. More of an unforeseen result with a happy twist. So I'm not sure that one counts. Anyway, the space death just leaves you floating. Your skin and blood vaporized after ten seconds of exposure, while your body expands outward like a balloon being filled with air. Then your lungs would collapse, and after 30 seconds you would be paralyzed, if you weren’t already dead by this point. Besides, in space, no one can hear you scream. Yet that could have been the point behind it. I suppose as far as deaths go, the space death is the most macho. No one can say that you eternally tapped out screaming like a sissy, if no one can hear you screaming. This wasn't a suicide mission, was it? Oh I hate it when someone wants to go on one of tho... not that I've ever been asked, you see, I just assume that I'd hate it. Yes, that's right. That's what I really meant to say. I assume that would be quite awful. This isn't that though, right?"


Rebel Star looked at him and shook her head - no, as she laughed. This spaceman was an odd sort, in a slightly charming, neurotic kind of way.


"Then I have to ask... why the moon?"


A brief wistful look passed across her face as she turned her attention towards Earth. Taking a seat upon the rocky surface.


"When I first left the factory in Japan. I remember not knowing what I was going to do or what to expect. It was all very overwhelming. Yet, when I was on that boat sailing for the United States, I looked up and the moon was just so outstandingly, beautiful. Breathtaking almost. The first pretty thing that I witnessed, after waking up in that cold, dark factory. Deemed defective. Sentenced to death. It just stuck out to me. As my first real moment of freedom. Ever since then, I always take a moment to look up at the moon. And remember."


A bittersweet laugh escaped Rebel's lips.


"Now, I'm looking at the Earth from the moon and I gotta say, it's weird but comforting. Almost like a special connection. This probably sounds totally lame to a man that can go anywhere."


Dropping down into a sitting position next to Rebel, Azrael raised his left knee and tucked it under his chin, where he rested his head as he cast his eyes onto Earth.


"No. It's not lame. I understand. I've been alive for so long and I've seen so much, I sometimes forget how spectacular new eyes are. To gaze out at something like this, full of such wonder and fascination. Thank you for sharing. For opening these ancient eyes... anew. The view is quite amazing."


Rebel's attention was placed solely, straight ahead as she looked upon the Earth with her keen, fresh perspective. Totally taken aback by this marvelous vision that she had the spaceman to thank for. She didn't notice as he stated his last words, he was looking sidelong at her.


"It is."


With a small, smile to himself, the spaceman cast his eyes down, momentarily. It would appear the spark was kindling. The question was, would the spaceman take the chance and spin that roulette wheel? Go all in. High stakes style? Or would he let things stay as they were, just a night to remember, with a Star, the moon and a view? Alas, this was fated for only time to reveal.


Meanwhile...


In the far off reaches of space.


Deep within the Jara-Deux Quadrant


Next to the the planet Celerphere.


A fleet of strange looking space vessels; hovered, idly in wait.


[Image: YFNhAvY.jpg]


Within the main hull of the starship, resting at the other vessels' forefront. A small army of hideous space creatures gazed upon a tremendous viewscreen. The image transmitting from it was that of the spaceman and Rebel Star, seated on the moon, enjoying the view of Earth. The sight of this quickly provoked an uproar. Loud grunts of resentment and dissatisfaction, erupted amongst the lot of monstrous beasts. There was pushing and shoving as it was soon becoming clear, these alien freaks were enraged by the sight of something being broadcasted on the monitor. The smart guess, would place the high amount of displeasure, solely upon the man from the stars. After a good portion of this was expelled, one member of this unsightly crew, standing directly in the center of the bunch; at their lead, quickly turned about to face the rest. As he committed this act, an almost immediate hush fell over the ship. It was very apparent after this act, that this one creature held some sort of power or high ranking command over the rest. Though if it wasn't standing in front of them and didn't have this affect over the rest, its ranking wouldn't be as clear. Since all the abnormal aliens looked exactly alike and wore the same strange suit of armor. When you can't decide what to wear assimilate with the herd? Once the bridge of the ship had gone completely silent, the space mutant standing closest to the helm of the ship proceeded to pace; back and forth, in front of the small army of monsters. Stern in tone, this repellent creature began to speak.


[Image: PDg8zje.jpg]


"At long last we have discovered the man who thwarted our most certain victory over the planet Ozuul. Over a thousand years of searching, we will finally have the honor of avenging our ancestors. At long last, we will have our... REVENGE!"


A loud boisterous uprising of cheers and screams soon ensued. As the terrible space monsters began to commit to a ritual, not too unfamiliar with jocks and some drunken male, football fans. Although, this act appeared to be far more, aggressive. These freaks began bashing into one another as the roar of their satisfaction permeated the air.


"Today the Jara-Deux Quadrant. Tomorrow... EARTH!"


If these space freaks weren't fired up before, they sure as heck were fighting ready now. Feverish and madly, delirious with the prospect of what was to come, they started bellowing and beating on each other, all the more. This act seemed to increasingly pump them up even more so as they continued to scream out and holler. One of the creatures was even so excited, he reached out and snapped another's neck. This act wasn't appalling to the rest either. In fact, it raised the volume of the yelling and shouting, ten-fold. As their leader halted his pacing and gazed onto the army - his army, with pride. A sinister smirk, slowly overtook his bulbous, potato shaped head.


[Image: hftDcyV.png]


"Leap Of Faith, brings into view, the option of achieving a briefcase. A chance to face the Engineer. To once again, attempt to claim that Universal title. I have to say, the goal doesn't really scream out to me. As a 2x Universal Champion, why would it? Everyone else contending for the chance to win, it's all so exciting and fresh for them. Save For Robbie and Mr. Chaos. Their hungry eyes are practically devouring that prize. However, I've feel a tad off, about the whole thing. Yes, it's an amazing opportunity. I can't deny that. The Engineer is a mighty force to be reckoned with. Yet I can't help but feel complacent about the whole matter. I actually believe the others are more deserving. That's the honest truth. I know there are times that I can be quite boastful but in this moment, I'm feeling like a different sort of spaceman. Haha! Perhaps my age is finally catching up to me."


"After all, it isn't everyday that Peter Gilmour, will get this type of opportunity. Or wait. That's not right, is it? He simply won't pull it off. The little engine that could but just... never does. He can't. Not when it really counts and he's got to do it, all on his own. Alone. Like a lump of bobbing meat in a shark tank. No, he sure can't. Go on Peter, bring up my recent loss against, Robert Main. Or my loss against D'Ville. Act like we're equals. Please do that. Because even though most of my footage has mysteriously vanished, the history books remain intact and if we were to weigh each other on a giant scale of accomplishments... well, it would be the first time your fat ass tipped the scale in the other direction. Imagine that! The very first time someone besides Robbie Bourbon outweighed you."


"You think I'm afraid of you Peter? That is absolutely adorable. I mean that. Truly, I do. That is literally the most precious thing I've ever heard. I want to hang the moment that you uttered those words on my fridge, so I can always look fondly upon it and remember, the exact moment when I buried you in a pile of blood, cum and shit. Hey Mister Selective Memory. That happened. And it was so worth the repulsiveness. Because even if you deny it and I'm a hundred, million percent certain that you will, every time I look you in the eye, I remember it and I know deep down, you remember it too."


"Enough wasting time though. Lets trek onward to our most deserving candidates, shall we? Starting off with, Christopher Chaos. Peter's former tag partner and role model. I'm not going to lie, you are... in your own way, impressive. You carried Peter Gilmour to victory, like only a tiny handful, can relate with. That is amazing. It's also incredibly stupid. Why you would even put yourself through that is beyond me. What possessed you when Peter, posed this horrible idea to you, that made you think that it was a good plan? Like at what point did you get taken over by the demon of "bad ideas"? Was it before or after you took the meeting with Peter? Come on, don't you dare say, that it was for the challenge. Don't do it, Chris. Don't lie to me. I've been around too long to not know when a possession is occurring. You had to be controlled by some other worldly force. I seen and recognized that. I refuse to believe there was any other reason fueling this choice. I just flat out won't."


"Oh, and while you're getting back to me with the answer on that, why don't you tell me how you gathered that I lost all my matches, since my return? Hmmm? Cause in all seriousness, that's mind boggling. Yes, I have lost two matches, I admit that but lets face it, if you took my place for just one of those matches. Either one will suffice in this example. You more than likely would have died. Or just wish that you were killed. Oh yeah. You would most definitely wish for death. While you recovered, slowly and I mean... slowly. If you ever did fully bounce back to wrestling, you wouldn't be back for a few years. If that. Meanwhile, I can take on the best. Commit to a fight and be tested to my limits, and then go out casually for brunch with my daughter, the very next day. Imagine that. Human. So please bring it. You know, what I'll even help you. I'll do my best to aid you in achieving the prime directive of this fight. To victory. That's right. I certainly will do my best. You know, without making it look too obvious. Why? Why will I do this, Christopher? Because your loss to the Engineer, will be so fucking worth it."


"Michael Graves and Robert Main. I actually legitimately think that you both deserve this. Though, either of you facing Engy, won't nearly be as entertaining as Chris Chaos doing it. I mean, you both know that, right? Sure you do. Peter Gilmour? It's a given loss. Flat out. Been there. Done that. It's literally, a revolving door of examples at this point, to use as a reason for why his loss would be a given. Chris Chaos though, now that's entertainment. Just seeing him get up there and try. Hilarious!"


"On a serious note though, you both are talented and extremely gifted in the ring. Graves it's an honor to face you, for the first time. Admittedly, I didn't view your promos, so I don't know if you feel the same way but in truth, it doesn't really matter cause I respect you in the field of wrestling, regardless. I'm aware of your accomplishments and at some point, I hope to face you, one on one. Robert Main, you put up a heck of a fight. I appreciate it. I do, I prefer the challenge, to the prize. Although, if I hadn't taken you out and gave you more time to recover, we might be telling a different tale. So your welcome for that. You got to face me at a hundred percent. Or damn near close to a hundred percent. Either way, I was the one, who made that happen. Remember that and know that I still haven't forgotten about the favor you owe me."


"Robbie Bourbon and Finn Kuhn. I'll get to you both later. I think I've shared all that I need to. For now. Don't get me wrong, you both are deserving of a shot at the briefcase, that leads you to the prospect of achieving gold. For two very different reasons. Yet, legit reasons, nonetheless. Still, I think those can wait. Till next time."]]> <![CDATA[What I tell you?]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31886 Fri, 20 Jul 2018 13:28:25 -0700 drezdin5788]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31886 heya every one this your favorite your favorite Giant Drezdin here.

What I tell ya huh? What I tell ya?

Since the card was posted the moment that he saw my on it and the moment that he'd realized that he was goin to face me for the fifth time, what are the odds he went the I much rather take a no show loss then kick his ass again.

I betcha on anything that he much rather get raped in the ass for hours and hours on end by the worlds fats man then face a guy who thinks that I am another rupaul equivalent.

Like I said, I've said it once and I've said it again, I'm pretty should that we all can all agree that he said the hell with the match.

I also think that we can all agree upon that we don't blame him taking a loss while not giving a too bit shot about the match.

I honestly if I was him and I saw the card of who I was facing, and I found it was me that I was facing for the what ever how many times strait, I would do the same damn thing.

But on the other hand it's a great thing for me 'cause it's a extremely easy win for me, I don't have to put a effort into it as much, and muchless break a sweat, or even have my time wasted.

Though it's not the quote on quote honing my skills for me in terms of where I want to go in my career.

But at the very least it's a step closer to being the next xwf universal champ]]> heya every one this your favorite your favorite Giant Drezdin here.

What I tell ya huh? What I tell ya?

Since the card was posted the moment that he saw my on it and the moment that he'd realized that he was goin to face me for the fifth time, what are the odds he went the I much rather take a no show loss then kick his ass again.

I betcha on anything that he much rather get raped in the ass for hours and hours on end by the worlds fats man then face a guy who thinks that I am another rupaul equivalent.

Like I said, I've said it once and I've said it again, I'm pretty should that we all can all agree that he said the hell with the match.

I also think that we can all agree upon that we don't blame him taking a loss while not giving a too bit shot about the match.

I honestly if I was him and I saw the card of who I was facing, and I found it was me that I was facing for the what ever how many times strait, I would do the same damn thing.

But on the other hand it's a great thing for me 'cause it's a extremely easy win for me, I don't have to put a effort into it as much, and muchless break a sweat, or even have my time wasted.

Though it's not the quote on quote honing my skills for me in terms of where I want to go in my career.

But at the very least it's a step closer to being the next xwf universal champ]]> <![CDATA[Redemption #2]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31882 Thu, 19 Jul 2018 20:27:37 -0700 Jessalyn Hart]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31882
July 11, 2018. Sydney International Airport.3:45 pm


[Image: images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQaIL4dhC2PoBqS5WJo0kQ...IogOBKxjDw]

Jessalyn arrived in Sydney with little to no problem. She left the terminal and went to custom. She nad noting to declare, at least nothing she wanted to say out loud. She made her way to baggage claim and waited for her duffle to roll by. She hears a voice behind her say those od familiar words.

Why do ravens fly at night?

She turned to find a man in his late twenties standing there staring at her . Waiting for an answer.

[Image: 468971865_180303_004210.jpg]

She was stunned for a moment he didn't look like an assassin. Most of them didn't, I guess that was the idea. She took a breath and responded.

To see the light in humanity.

The man smiled gently

Hello Jessalyn, I'm Alexi Mikhailov. I am your Liason while in Sydney. You and will become great friends, you and I . here, let me help with your bags.

Jessalyn didn't know what to say or do, she just let him take the bags.

Abigail has told me all about you. We should stop at bar on the way to the hotel, get a drink or two, talk things over . Tell me, do you like vodka?

She looked at him and answered sheepishly

Yeah, you could say that. You also could say I have kept the industry afloat. I should get stock in it.Haha.

He smiled back at her as they walked out of the terminal and towards the parked running car. He put her bag in the trunk and the two got in the back of the car.

So what has Abigail told you about the target? Did she tell you how she wanted him Killed?

She sat in shock nervously looking at Alexi and then the driver. She whispered ...

Should we be talking about that so openly?

Alexi smiled.And nodded towards the driver.

Him?He is another contractor. He does this all the time. He just drives us to where we need to be and picks us up when we need him. He is a real quiet guy, doesn't ask too many questions. Aint that right Peter?

The man in the driver sit nodded and kept driving.

So did she tell you or not?

No, she didn't. I thought you would have had an idea of how to go about this. This is my first real operation. I have never really done assassination, or even kill someone for that matter.

He smirked at her

Its really easy, it's like riding a bike, a very violent sometimes bloody bike. You'll be fine, it comes real natural. Its like sex, once you do it, you'll love, it.

The car drove through downtown Sydney, Jessalyn stared out of the window as the building and people passed by.

he would have loved doing this. I miss him.

Who, Mezian?

Yeah, he would have loved doing this with me.

Worry not little one. He is proud of you even if he cants say it anymore. I worked with him once, in Albania. He and I were hired to kill General who had extended too far into the government. It was easy in and out and no one knew what happened.

The car stopped in front of this little hole in the wall bar.The two got out of the car, Alexi slapped the top of the car twice and Peter drove off. Jessalyn and he walked in.

[Image: images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSHSy-o2kl3XKeH-kFRIYH...dRki53_me6]

It was quiet and empty. There wasn't even a bartender. Jessalyn began to wonder what this was.

Isn't there supposed to be people in a bar? Or even a bartender?

Not if the Ravens own the place and we have free range of the alcohol.

Alexi walked behind the bar and grabbed two glasses and a bottle of Vodka.

Now, do you want to shoot him or do you want to make it personal? I can make either happen. I have the info on him so we can execute whatever plan you want.

Jessalyn thought of the idea while she took a sip from the glass Alexi pored her. What who he have done. What terrible ways would he have killed this Matt guy?

Personal, I wanna make it personal. I wanna watch him die. I want the last thing he sees and hears to be me.

Whoa, little one that is a bit dark, I like it. So here is the plan if you wanna go down that route. He is staying in the penthouse in a hotel down the road here. We get a room there up in the penthouse and we just watch and wait for him to make a mistake. We could also just kill him in his sleep. I don't think that would work for you. But first, let's get a few more drinks in us and then head to the hotel. We need to get dinner soon and get some sleep we are getting up pretty early in the morning.

How early is early?

4 am.

Jesus Fucking Christ who does that?

He does. He is a very busy man, has a lot of stuff to get done. That is why we have to watch him, so we can find our window of opportunity. Come now Peter is waiting for us.

Jessalyn and Alexi head out the door. And there Peter was the car running and everything.

But...How?

Don't worry little one, I Don't even know how.

The two got in the car and the drove to the hotel. Once they arrived Jessalyn got out of the car and just stared the building. She was trying to see if she could see the penthouse suite.

[Image: images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSOn-ItV6KOAidnzVOoXd_...k7GO2lrsQg]

So we are going to be living up there?

Yeah, have you never been in a penthouse before?

No, not really. Mezian never likes them and the Xwf doesn't pay me THAT GOOD. But it will be a nice change of pace.

The two enter and give their info to the desk clerk. They exchange small talk and head towards the elevators. When Jessalyn gets a weird feeling like someone is watching her. She slowly turns back towards the lobby. She sees a man in a chair staring holes into her. Like he was trying to see her soul.

Oh, shit! That is an angel. Or at least he is strong enough to be one.

What are you talking about?

He turned to see who she was talking about. As he turned he noticed three men standing around another. The man she was talking about was infact Matt.

Okay new plan, if he makes us we are all dead. We should get to our room and get ahold of Abby and see if we need to change course.

Good idea, Does he know where we are going to be staying?

Dont know, but I guess we will find out.

They enter the elevator. As the doors slide shut the man in the chair smiles at Jessalyn waves at her.

Well, that was fucking creppy.

To Be Continued...


And here I was expecting to have some witty retort to your promo. But alas you have yet to post one. Atleast as I am filming this now.Not a " hey fuck you bitch" or " you are gonna get hurt cunt". I am actually dissappointed in you two. Reallt I mean one of you is the goddamn champion you would expect that to mean she would cut promos,but I guess not. The idea of being champion is only meaningful to a few people around here. For the rest of them its just something to make them feel important.

The problem with that mentality is that no matter how many titles you win if you are a piece of shit human being and don't deserve to have a job, You are still that with or without the straps. Because a title should be cherished, coveted and something you strive to obtain and hold on to as long as you can. That means when someone walks up and tries to take it from you fight them. You fight them with every ounce of your being, you give it you're all. Sometimes that is not enough and that is okay.

So if either of you two women aren't going to fight for the XWF Bombshell Championship then pack it up and have Vinny send it to my house. I dont wanna waste my time on people who aren't willing to fight for what they have or what they want. Why don't you two go home and don't come back we don't need you and we sure as hell want you if aren't going to fight. This is the XWF, the land of extreme, and either you can handle it or you cant either way you should reconsider your choices.]]>
July 11, 2018. Sydney International Airport.3:45 pm


[Image: images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQaIL4dhC2PoBqS5WJo0kQ...IogOBKxjDw]

Jessalyn arrived in Sydney with little to no problem. She left the terminal and went to custom. She nad noting to declare, at least nothing she wanted to say out loud. She made her way to baggage claim and waited for her duffle to roll by. She hears a voice behind her say those od familiar words.

Why do ravens fly at night?

She turned to find a man in his late twenties standing there staring at her . Waiting for an answer.

[Image: 468971865_180303_004210.jpg]

She was stunned for a moment he didn't look like an assassin. Most of them didn't, I guess that was the idea. She took a breath and responded.

To see the light in humanity.

The man smiled gently

Hello Jessalyn, I'm Alexi Mikhailov. I am your Liason while in Sydney. You and will become great friends, you and I . here, let me help with your bags.

Jessalyn didn't know what to say or do, she just let him take the bags.

Abigail has told me all about you. We should stop at bar on the way to the hotel, get a drink or two, talk things over . Tell me, do you like vodka?

She looked at him and answered sheepishly

Yeah, you could say that. You also could say I have kept the industry afloat. I should get stock in it.Haha.

He smiled back at her as they walked out of the terminal and towards the parked running car. He put her bag in the trunk and the two got in the back of the car.

So what has Abigail told you about the target? Did she tell you how she wanted him Killed?

She sat in shock nervously looking at Alexi and then the driver. She whispered ...

Should we be talking about that so openly?

Alexi smiled.And nodded towards the driver.

Him?He is another contractor. He does this all the time. He just drives us to where we need to be and picks us up when we need him. He is a real quiet guy, doesn't ask too many questions. Aint that right Peter?

The man in the driver sit nodded and kept driving.

So did she tell you or not?

No, she didn't. I thought you would have had an idea of how to go about this. This is my first real operation. I have never really done assassination, or even kill someone for that matter.

He smirked at her

Its really easy, it's like riding a bike, a very violent sometimes bloody bike. You'll be fine, it comes real natural. Its like sex, once you do it, you'll love, it.

The car drove through downtown Sydney, Jessalyn stared out of the window as the building and people passed by.

he would have loved doing this. I miss him.

Who, Mezian?

Yeah, he would have loved doing this with me.

Worry not little one. He is proud of you even if he cants say it anymore. I worked with him once, in Albania. He and I were hired to kill General who had extended too far into the government. It was easy in and out and no one knew what happened.

The car stopped in front of this little hole in the wall bar.The two got out of the car, Alexi slapped the top of the car twice and Peter drove off. Jessalyn and he walked in.

[Image: images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSHSy-o2kl3XKeH-kFRIYH...dRki53_me6]

It was quiet and empty. There wasn't even a bartender. Jessalyn began to wonder what this was.

Isn't there supposed to be people in a bar? Or even a bartender?

Not if the Ravens own the place and we have free range of the alcohol.

Alexi walked behind the bar and grabbed two glasses and a bottle of Vodka.

Now, do you want to shoot him or do you want to make it personal? I can make either happen. I have the info on him so we can execute whatever plan you want.

Jessalyn thought of the idea while she took a sip from the glass Alexi pored her. What who he have done. What terrible ways would he have killed this Matt guy?

Personal, I wanna make it personal. I wanna watch him die. I want the last thing he sees and hears to be me.

Whoa, little one that is a bit dark, I like it. So here is the plan if you wanna go down that route. He is staying in the penthouse in a hotel down the road here. We get a room there up in the penthouse and we just watch and wait for him to make a mistake. We could also just kill him in his sleep. I don't think that would work for you. But first, let's get a few more drinks in us and then head to the hotel. We need to get dinner soon and get some sleep we are getting up pretty early in the morning.

How early is early?

4 am.

Jesus Fucking Christ who does that?

He does. He is a very busy man, has a lot of stuff to get done. That is why we have to watch him, so we can find our window of opportunity. Come now Peter is waiting for us.

Jessalyn and Alexi head out the door. And there Peter was the car running and everything.

But...How?

Don't worry little one, I Don't even know how.

The two got in the car and the drove to the hotel. Once they arrived Jessalyn got out of the car and just stared the building. She was trying to see if she could see the penthouse suite.

[Image: images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSOn-ItV6KOAidnzVOoXd_...k7GO2lrsQg]

So we are going to be living up there?

Yeah, have you never been in a penthouse before?

No, not really. Mezian never likes them and the Xwf doesn't pay me THAT GOOD. But it will be a nice change of pace.

The two enter and give their info to the desk clerk. They exchange small talk and head towards the elevators. When Jessalyn gets a weird feeling like someone is watching her. She slowly turns back towards the lobby. She sees a man in a chair staring holes into her. Like he was trying to see her soul.

Oh, shit! That is an angel. Or at least he is strong enough to be one.

What are you talking about?

He turned to see who she was talking about. As he turned he noticed three men standing around another. The man she was talking about was infact Matt.

Okay new plan, if he makes us we are all dead. We should get to our room and get ahold of Abby and see if we need to change course.

Good idea, Does he know where we are going to be staying?

Dont know, but I guess we will find out.

They enter the elevator. As the doors slide shut the man in the chair smiles at Jessalyn waves at her.

Well, that was fucking creppy.

To Be Continued...


And here I was expecting to have some witty retort to your promo. But alas you have yet to post one. Atleast as I am filming this now.Not a " hey fuck you bitch" or " you are gonna get hurt cunt". I am actually dissappointed in you two. Reallt I mean one of you is the goddamn champion you would expect that to mean she would cut promos,but I guess not. The idea of being champion is only meaningful to a few people around here. For the rest of them its just something to make them feel important.

The problem with that mentality is that no matter how many titles you win if you are a piece of shit human being and don't deserve to have a job, You are still that with or without the straps. Because a title should be cherished, coveted and something you strive to obtain and hold on to as long as you can. That means when someone walks up and tries to take it from you fight them. You fight them with every ounce of your being, you give it you're all. Sometimes that is not enough and that is okay.

So if either of you two women aren't going to fight for the XWF Bombshell Championship then pack it up and have Vinny send it to my house. I dont wanna waste my time on people who aren't willing to fight for what they have or what they want. Why don't you two go home and don't come back we don't need you and we sure as hell want you if aren't going to fight. This is the XWF, the land of extreme, and either you can handle it or you cant either way you should reconsider your choices.]]> <![CDATA[Number 5]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31867 Thu, 19 Jul 2018 09:34:53 -0700 drezdin5788]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31867 i kinda feel sorry for random, I mean here's a person who every time looks at the card to see who's he's facing in the next match.

At that particular moment as he looks at the card to see who in the hell hes facing he's probably thinking it will someone else, someone who he's faced but it's been a while, a rematch type of match, or what ever.

But you know what?...........nnnope, nada, zilch, nothing, jack shit is what the mother fucker is getting.

You see what he's getting is not a person who's not what he though of what he though, not one bit.

He's getting a person who he has faced, not once not twice not even three times, he facing a person that he faced for the fifth..damn..time.........STRAIT! In me.

Random the poor bastard.

Now at this moment in time he's gotta be thinking that it's one thing to face a person twice with one of them being a rematch, or even a third time being a fill type of role, but for a forthnor a fifth damn time strait.....BULL SHIT!

As a matter of fact at the same time just as he saw who he is facing on the card I guaranteed your ass he was thinking about taking a loss or even forfeiting the match then fight someone for a fifth straight.

Now that I think of it, I betcha on anything he on his recliner drinking his ass off, going what the fuck what the fuck that while not even giving a shit about the match.

And you know what? Who can blame the guy? Not me not ever all of y'all.

I mean if I was random I would be just like him in terms of what the fuck not giving a shit, drinking his ass of, thinking about taking a loss or forfeit the match rather then facing a person this many times in a row and so on and so on.

Until I masterbate my dick off to a vagina at the very least.

None the less I think we can all agree that we don't blame the poor mother fucker one damn bit.

But on the other end of the spectrum so to speak while MY OPPONENT just simply gave up, if you think about its a win for me.

I mean I don't have to waste my time with opponent in random, I don't have to or y'all for that matter listen to his endless amount off bull shit, nor do I have to waste my time kicking his ass.

Don't get me wrong my dream or dreams is to be the best of the best if not thee best, shoe the whole world that I ain't the laughing stock that they think that I am, and become the xwf universal champ, but in the case this situation...if you you'll look at it you'll see why.

In closing while I toss a steel chair in the middle of the ring sit on it waiting to see if my opponent Radom will show, to my fellow xwf super stars that are in the roster, of random won't give a shit and much rather take a loss, who ever on the roster, PLEASE FIGHT ME!!! ALL I WANT IS TO FIGHT SOMEONE WHO DOES GIVE A SHIT!

FIGHT ME YOU VAGINA WEARING DICK SMOKING MAN WHORE!!!]]> i kinda feel sorry for random, I mean here's a person who every time looks at the card to see who's he's facing in the next match.

At that particular moment as he looks at the card to see who in the hell hes facing he's probably thinking it will someone else, someone who he's faced but it's been a while, a rematch type of match, or what ever.

But you know what?...........nnnope, nada, zilch, nothing, jack shit is what the mother fucker is getting.

You see what he's getting is not a person who's not what he though of what he though, not one bit.

He's getting a person who he has faced, not once not twice not even three times, he facing a person that he faced for the fifth..damn..time.........STRAIT! In me.

Random the poor bastard.

Now at this moment in time he's gotta be thinking that it's one thing to face a person twice with one of them being a rematch, or even a third time being a fill type of role, but for a forthnor a fifth damn time strait.....BULL SHIT!

As a matter of fact at the same time just as he saw who he is facing on the card I guaranteed your ass he was thinking about taking a loss or even forfeiting the match then fight someone for a fifth straight.

Now that I think of it, I betcha on anything he on his recliner drinking his ass off, going what the fuck what the fuck that while not even giving a shit about the match.

And you know what? Who can blame the guy? Not me not ever all of y'all.

I mean if I was random I would be just like him in terms of what the fuck not giving a shit, drinking his ass of, thinking about taking a loss or forfeit the match rather then facing a person this many times in a row and so on and so on.

Until I masterbate my dick off to a vagina at the very least.

None the less I think we can all agree that we don't blame the poor mother fucker one damn bit.

But on the other end of the spectrum so to speak while MY OPPONENT just simply gave up, if you think about its a win for me.

I mean I don't have to waste my time with opponent in random, I don't have to or y'all for that matter listen to his endless amount off bull shit, nor do I have to waste my time kicking his ass.

Don't get me wrong my dream or dreams is to be the best of the best if not thee best, shoe the whole world that I ain't the laughing stock that they think that I am, and become the xwf universal champ, but in the case this situation...if you you'll look at it you'll see why.

In closing while I toss a steel chair in the middle of the ring sit on it waiting to see if my opponent Radom will show, to my fellow xwf super stars that are in the roster, of random won't give a shit and much rather take a loss, who ever on the roster, PLEASE FIGHT ME!!! ALL I WANT IS TO FIGHT SOMEONE WHO DOES GIVE A SHIT!

FIGHT ME YOU VAGINA WEARING DICK SMOKING MAN WHORE!!!]]> <![CDATA[Leave No Doubt]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31878 Thu, 19 Jul 2018 06:32:40 -0700 Pestalance]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31878 Doubt
(Verb)
1. To be uncertain about; consider questionable or unlikely; hesitate to believe.
2. To distrust
3. (Archaic.) To fear; be apprehensive about.


“Doubt kills more dreams than failure ever will.”
Suzy Kassem

“We learn from failure, not from success!”
Bram Stoker

“Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt.”
William Shakespeare


A cloud of doubt has been cast upon the main event of Leap of Faith 2018. These shrouds of doubt have been injected not only from the participants, but from people whose futures will be directly affected from the outcome of the main event. Even fans, both those that will view the events live and those watching on live stream have their doubts about this match. In situations like this it’s inevitable that people will be unsure about what’s to come. But what sets this instance apart from the others is the fact that everyone…every single person has the exact same doubt.

Can Pestalance actually win?

Can a man who seemingly came from nowhere, a man with minimal experience and a short list of accomplishment beat the unbeatable?

The answer seems to lie in the question doesn’t it? The cliché statement of ‘beat the unbeatable’; typically a statement used to build dramatic effect to insight anticipation. A way to get people on the edge of their seats waiting with baited breath for the excitement to start.

In this case, however, the unbeatable seems to have become truly that. Many have stepped up to the challenge and all have been thwarted. No one has even come close to defeating The Engineer. So it’s very easy for that doubt to show up in people’s minds.

If you’ve been paying close enough attention, you could easily identify the doubts of every individual that will be affected by this match.

Robert Main doubts that anyone aside from him will bring the honor or dignity the Universal Championship deserves when challenging for it. He believes that he is the only person who is willing to take the long hard road that leads being the face of XWF.

Chris Chaos doubts the validity of his opponents getting an opportunity to even challenge for the Universal Championship. He feels like he is the only person worthy to be the next to step up to the challenge.

Robbie Bourbon doubts his own existence; a gaping hole in his soul has him questioning if he’ll ever be whole again. This emptiness motivates him to put everything on the line to obtain something to give his life meaning.

Peter Gilmour doubts that another individual is competent and proficient enough to take is spot in his former collective. If he comes out on top he proves this doubt and takes his spot back.

Engineer doubts that aside from one current individual within the company, there will never be someone who will push him to his limit of competition. He has ripped through all comers and is now unfulfilled.

Each person has their own individual doubts, but what links them all together is that they all share the collective doubt regarding Pestalance’s ability to dethrone The Engineer.

Not one of ‘The Leap of Faith’ participants has even mentioned the possibility of having to face Pestalance if they should win the match. Not one of them have even mentioned Pestalance’s name. In their minds they all need to be gearing up for The Engineer and The Engineer alone.

It begs to be noted, however, that these men are not the only ones guilty of exhibiting doubt. Pestalance himself has shown very similar doubt within himself. Statements such as “Because If I can beat THAT Engy” and “I don’t know if first time is gonna be the charm” has shown that even Pestalance is unsure that he can beat The Engineer.

All of these instances put us as viewers in a very awkward position. Are we about to witness the inevitable? Is The Engineer about to steam roll over Pestalance as he has done so many others?

No

Doubt has never determined the actual outcome of anything.

If that were the case, the New England Patriots would be the second undefeated champions in NFL history.

[Image: Super-Bowl-XLII-e1486520584660.jpg]

Buster Douglas would have never beaten Mike Tyson to become the champion.

[Image: Douglas-Tyson1.jpg]

The United States would have never won the gold in ice hockey in the 1980 Winter Olympics.

[Image: g238412_u85016_1980campcov.jpg]

Doubt is simply a feeling that can be overcome. If you have the intestinal fortitude, the drive and the desire, doubt is transformed from a brick wall to a speed bump.

Pestalance has these qualities within him and when he taps into them, he is the one that can beat that unbeatable.

This Sunday Pestalance will leave no doubt.



Plainfield, New Jersey
Thursday, July 19, 2018
1:45am Eastern Standard Time

As the camera comes into focus we hear a chuckle from Pest who is standing on his front porch. He’s looking over to his left nodding his head as he speaks.

Ok…so this is what we’re gonna do huh? Cool!

Pest turns his head toward the camera.

See I tried to make this match about the spirit of competition between two of the best this company has to offer. I put aside my vendetta against this company in order to facilitate something that has the potential to be a classic match. I didn’t take any low blows or cheap shots; hell I didn’t really even talk a lot of shit. I stated my position, I stated my motivations, and I stated my goals. I showed you the respect that I felt you deserved. And what did I get in return, Engineer?

Nothing.

I mean, aside from the low key ‘Yo mama’ joke that Madison slipped to Tucker prior to that dumb ass interview, I’ve gotten nothing from you, Engy. Honestly, this wasn’t quite what I expected when I said that I looked forward to you creatively telling the world how I suck. You could have done waaaay better over the course of the last two weeks.

Instead you choose to call me fodder. Really? That’s the best you got? I mean…ok.

Guess we can take that whole, “Everyone runs because ‘Engy’s promos are too good’” nonsense and toss that in the trash, huh? Cause honestly, nothing about you over the course of the past two weeks has been good.

Pest throws his hands up as he speaks.

I already know your response to this. You’re gonna blame me for that, right? You’re gonna spin it as my fault for not being the guy that’s gonna push you. Well what about the match before this one? What about the match before that? All everyone else’s fault and not yours, huh? Typical.

Pest folds his arms in front of him.

It’s typical because I know better than that, Engy; because I am a fan of yours. I’ve paid attention since day one. And it’s fitting that you bring up your work against Finn, because honestly, that’s the last time you’ve done anything of note. And yes, you did call out James Raven, but don’t sit here and act like Finn wasn’t a threat. Truth be told, Finn was kickin your ass during the match. I agree with you that you didn’t need Madison’s help to win, but Finn was giving you that work…jus sayin.

Now, let’s move past all of that and talk about truth for a second. For the last two weeks you been givin me a lot of ‘real talk’ (hood status confirmed) and then you asked me to refute anything you’ve said so far. Ok, the truth is…

Pest looks away from the camera, pursing his lips, before looking back shrugging.

I can’t. See, a good portion of the things you’ve said about me are in fact true. I haven’t beaten any of the champions in this company; I’m not too proud to own up to that. But, I’ve never made a single excuse since day one. I’ve owned every loss I’ve earned (key word earned); but also, I’ve embraced those losses. I’ve used each and every one of those losses to make me better. And because of that, I’m the guy that you are facing on Sunday whether you like it or not. So you can down play my journey to this point all you want, it still doesn’t change the fact that I deserve to be here. I deserve to get in that ring with you and bust you the fuck up. And that’s what I’m gonna do…bust you the fuck up.

I’m done singing your praises; I’m done fan-boying for you. The days of me looking up to The Engineer are over, cause now I’m looking AT you. And despite how much of a joke you make it out be it’s dangerous for you. It’s dangerous cause I’m bigger than you, I’m stronger than you, and most importantly I’m hungrier than you. I want this match more than you because I want the victory more than you. To you, this is a waste of time, a formality; a contractual obligation that you have to deal with. To me, this is the reason why I worked my ass off for a year in Japan. This is the reason why for the past six months I’ve worked harder than I have in my whole life. Beating you; taking that title…it’s all that matters.

So on Sunday night before you come out from the back, take that title and put it around your waste. Feel the weight of it on your hips; run your hands across the metal. Take a look at yourself in the mirror wearing it; commit what it looks like to memory. Remember what it feels like to be the face of the company; the top of the food chain.

Pest moves closer to the camera giving us a close up of his face. His relaxed look instantly turns to one of intensity and aggression.

And then bring your punk ass to the ring so that I can fuck you up and take what’s yours.

Holla at cha later bitch! ]]> Doubt
(Verb)
1. To be uncertain about; consider questionable or unlikely; hesitate to believe.
2. To distrust
3. (Archaic.) To fear; be apprehensive about.


“Doubt kills more dreams than failure ever will.”
Suzy Kassem

“We learn from failure, not from success!”
Bram Stoker

“Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt.”
William Shakespeare


A cloud of doubt has been cast upon the main event of Leap of Faith 2018. These shrouds of doubt have been injected not only from the participants, but from people whose futures will be directly affected from the outcome of the main event. Even fans, both those that will view the events live and those watching on live stream have their doubts about this match. In situations like this it’s inevitable that people will be unsure about what’s to come. But what sets this instance apart from the others is the fact that everyone…every single person has the exact same doubt.

Can Pestalance actually win?

Can a man who seemingly came from nowhere, a man with minimal experience and a short list of accomplishment beat the unbeatable?

The answer seems to lie in the question doesn’t it? The cliché statement of ‘beat the unbeatable’; typically a statement used to build dramatic effect to insight anticipation. A way to get people on the edge of their seats waiting with baited breath for the excitement to start.

In this case, however, the unbeatable seems to have become truly that. Many have stepped up to the challenge and all have been thwarted. No one has even come close to defeating The Engineer. So it’s very easy for that doubt to show up in people’s minds.

If you’ve been paying close enough attention, you could easily identify the doubts of every individual that will be affected by this match.

Robert Main doubts that anyone aside from him will bring the honor or dignity the Universal Championship deserves when challenging for it. He believes that he is the only person who is willing to take the long hard road that leads being the face of XWF.

Chris Chaos doubts the validity of his opponents getting an opportunity to even challenge for the Universal Championship. He feels like he is the only person worthy to be the next to step up to the challenge.

Robbie Bourbon doubts his own existence; a gaping hole in his soul has him questioning if he’ll ever be whole again. This emptiness motivates him to put everything on the line to obtain something to give his life meaning.

Peter Gilmour doubts that another individual is competent and proficient enough to take is spot in his former collective. If he comes out on top he proves this doubt and takes his spot back.

Engineer doubts that aside from one current individual within the company, there will never be someone who will push him to his limit of competition. He has ripped through all comers and is now unfulfilled.

Each person has their own individual doubts, but what links them all together is that they all share the collective doubt regarding Pestalance’s ability to dethrone The Engineer.

Not one of ‘The Leap of Faith’ participants has even mentioned the possibility of having to face Pestalance if they should win the match. Not one of them have even mentioned Pestalance’s name. In their minds they all need to be gearing up for The Engineer and The Engineer alone.

It begs to be noted, however, that these men are not the only ones guilty of exhibiting doubt. Pestalance himself has shown very similar doubt within himself. Statements such as “Because If I can beat THAT Engy” and “I don’t know if first time is gonna be the charm” has shown that even Pestalance is unsure that he can beat The Engineer.

All of these instances put us as viewers in a very awkward position. Are we about to witness the inevitable? Is The Engineer about to steam roll over Pestalance as he has done so many others?

No

Doubt has never determined the actual outcome of anything.

If that were the case, the New England Patriots would be the second undefeated champions in NFL history.

[Image: Super-Bowl-XLII-e1486520584660.jpg]

Buster Douglas would have never beaten Mike Tyson to become the champion.

[Image: Douglas-Tyson1.jpg]

The United States would have never won the gold in ice hockey in the 1980 Winter Olympics.

[Image: g238412_u85016_1980campcov.jpg]

Doubt is simply a feeling that can be overcome. If you have the intestinal fortitude, the drive and the desire, doubt is transformed from a brick wall to a speed bump.

Pestalance has these qualities within him and when he taps into them, he is the one that can beat that unbeatable.

This Sunday Pestalance will leave no doubt.



Plainfield, New Jersey
Thursday, July 19, 2018
1:45am Eastern Standard Time

As the camera comes into focus we hear a chuckle from Pest who is standing on his front porch. He’s looking over to his left nodding his head as he speaks.

Ok…so this is what we’re gonna do huh? Cool!

Pest turns his head toward the camera.

See I tried to make this match about the spirit of competition between two of the best this company has to offer. I put aside my vendetta against this company in order to facilitate something that has the potential to be a classic match. I didn’t take any low blows or cheap shots; hell I didn’t really even talk a lot of shit. I stated my position, I stated my motivations, and I stated my goals. I showed you the respect that I felt you deserved. And what did I get in return, Engineer?

Nothing.

I mean, aside from the low key ‘Yo mama’ joke that Madison slipped to Tucker prior to that dumb ass interview, I’ve gotten nothing from you, Engy. Honestly, this wasn’t quite what I expected when I said that I looked forward to you creatively telling the world how I suck. You could have done waaaay better over the course of the last two weeks.

Instead you choose to call me fodder. Really? That’s the best you got? I mean…ok.

Guess we can take that whole, “Everyone runs because ‘Engy’s promos are too good’” nonsense and toss that in the trash, huh? Cause honestly, nothing about you over the course of the past two weeks has been good.

Pest throws his hands up as he speaks.

I already know your response to this. You’re gonna blame me for that, right? You’re gonna spin it as my fault for not being the guy that’s gonna push you. Well what about the match before this one? What about the match before that? All everyone else’s fault and not yours, huh? Typical.

Pest folds his arms in front of him.

It’s typical because I know better than that, Engy; because I am a fan of yours. I’ve paid attention since day one. And it’s fitting that you bring up your work against Finn, because honestly, that’s the last time you’ve done anything of note. And yes, you did call out James Raven, but don’t sit here and act like Finn wasn’t a threat. Truth be told, Finn was kickin your ass during the match. I agree with you that you didn’t need Madison’s help to win, but Finn was giving you that work…jus sayin.

Now, let’s move past all of that and talk about truth for a second. For the last two weeks you been givin me a lot of ‘real talk’ (hood status confirmed) and then you asked me to refute anything you’ve said so far. Ok, the truth is…

Pest looks away from the camera, pursing his lips, before looking back shrugging.

I can’t. See, a good portion of the things you’ve said about me are in fact true. I haven’t beaten any of the champions in this company; I’m not too proud to own up to that. But, I’ve never made a single excuse since day one. I’ve owned every loss I’ve earned (key word earned); but also, I’ve embraced those losses. I’ve used each and every one of those losses to make me better. And because of that, I’m the guy that you are facing on Sunday whether you like it or not. So you can down play my journey to this point all you want, it still doesn’t change the fact that I deserve to be here. I deserve to get in that ring with you and bust you the fuck up. And that’s what I’m gonna do…bust you the fuck up.

I’m done singing your praises; I’m done fan-boying for you. The days of me looking up to The Engineer are over, cause now I’m looking AT you. And despite how much of a joke you make it out be it’s dangerous for you. It’s dangerous cause I’m bigger than you, I’m stronger than you, and most importantly I’m hungrier than you. I want this match more than you because I want the victory more than you. To you, this is a waste of time, a formality; a contractual obligation that you have to deal with. To me, this is the reason why I worked my ass off for a year in Japan. This is the reason why for the past six months I’ve worked harder than I have in my whole life. Beating you; taking that title…it’s all that matters.

So on Sunday night before you come out from the back, take that title and put it around your waste. Feel the weight of it on your hips; run your hands across the metal. Take a look at yourself in the mirror wearing it; commit what it looks like to memory. Remember what it feels like to be the face of the company; the top of the food chain.

Pest moves closer to the camera giving us a close up of his face. His relaxed look instantly turns to one of intensity and aggression.

And then bring your punk ass to the ring so that I can fuck you up and take what’s yours.

Holla at cha later bitch! ]]>