<![CDATA[X-treme Wrestling Federation - War Games 2020 PPV Board]]>

<![CDATA[X-treme Wrestling Federation - War Games 2020 PPV Board]]> https://xwf1999.com/ Thu, 16 Apr 2026 14:11:02 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[bring.it]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37148 Sat, 30 May 2020 23:59:02 -0700 red-x]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37148

Wake up.
Smell the coffee.
Pay attention...
...you might learn something

Building walls around myself, to keep them all at bay.

Locking doors, between their roars, screaming their cries of dismay.

Sheltering myself from the outside world, keeping the pain within.

Even the best of us get left in the dust of our long-lived lives of sin.

The more they try to call me out, the further I draw myself in a veil,

There's nothing left for me to do, nothing left to tell.

I feel the hands grabbing my feet and pulling me to hell...

...But I'm not dead. I let out a rebel yell...

--WE ARE ETERNAL--

|to be continued|

...here comes trouble...

Come to me now all ye who hear this cry.

I don't give up. I don't back down.

I never, ever, surrender.

But I can see the landscape of a realm I once cherished... and I am lost in the world I find myself staring at. Every month, as years pass, this company slowly perishes. Death overcomes as I see useless scum drape themselves with what USED to be the most prestigious title in the world.

I remember the last time I was here... I was ridiculed, mocked, broken. I was made a fool, but this time? I use that heartache as a weapon to overcome those who've made the past three years of my life an absolute hell on earth. I don't look at you people as I once did. Remember--

Believe ye be worthy, and worthy ye shall be. Heheh... I know I am...

...But what are you?

Dust to dust, ash to ash, wind flowing through the cuffs of my coat, cutting through the neck... I feel alive once again. I wake up from my bed to find the miserable state I've found myself in slowly dissipating. The words and actions of the XWF faithful are beginning to transform from a knife in the back to a sword in my hand. I simply wish to let you all know that I'm not waiting around for someone to welcome me. I'm busting down the front door this time, and putting each and every one of you on red alert. Death will come for those who wait.

Dust to dust, ash to ash... time changes and the world evolves. The world revolves around those who don't wait, but instead those who take action and take what is theirs. And I'm finally ready to take action in this company, and leave my mark. I am ready to make a name for myself, regardless of which name that may be. Regardless...

...I'm ready. Are you?

|i'm gonna set this world on fire|

~ + ~

The world is a scary place. I don't know how else to put it. I've been through it all in my life, and I've been frightened at least half the time... but I persevere. Everyone I've ever crossed paths with has either used or abused me in some way. Just my life, I suppose. But I never, ever, EVER, give up. And I never move backward. Because quitting is for losers... and as long as I continue forward?

All I do is win.

So many men and women in my history have lived to see me fail. But you only really fail if you give up. So that's why, every time I fall? I get back up again. I will never allow another person to dictate how or why I live my life. I will NEVER allow someone to push me around and tell me what to do. I am a fighter, a warrior, and THAT, above anything else, is the kind of being I wish to be known as.

A warrior.

I'm ready to return to the realm that moved on and forgot me. I'm ready for the land that betrayed me and spat in my face. Anyone that reads this, please note... you're not safe. You can run, but you can't evade the Truth. I love this business, it's my passion, my heart, my soul... but you people have ruined it for me.

And the only way I can relight the fire is if I extinguish that of yours.

Be prepared.

|Believe ye be worthy, and worthy ye shall be|

~ + ~

Strong at heart, weak at body. Strong at spirit, weak at mind.

But each and every day I'm slowly recovering. I am on the track back to my yard.

.....Adrenalize me.

~ + ~

TO THOSE ON MY TEAM:

Graves has seen his best days, but i'm willing to elevate him to his old glory b4 he is put to pasture.

Mastermind has defeated me, which was probably his greatest achievement ever, seeing how fucking awesome I am. Anin't no thang. ^_^

Liam Roberts looks a lot like musical artist "YungBlud", which I'm unsure would be a compliment or a curse for the poor guy...

MY OPPONENTS:

Miss Direction....uhhhmmm....... can I buy a vowel, who is this chick anyhow?? o__O

Felix Jones defeated me by the skin of his teeth, and he KNOWS if he faced me again, it'd be his last night as champion.

Jenny Myst is the name of a two-cent hooker and Michael Bride is her pimp.

The Wizard needs to hop on a air-baloon and get his whack ass back to Kansas!!!! XD

RANDOM THOUGHTS ON OTHER LOSERS:

I should have been on Main and Page's teams, they know, I know, the whole world knows that was their biggest loss, and I offer my condolences

RussianRose is another chump who 'defeated' me, I'll admit it, but these losses are simply fueling me to my eventual throne built upon the Realm of Xtreme

Doug Whitford......LowMo......Who's hiring these guys?? .-.

BigD retired. ....I think?? o_O

Thunder Knux is the reigning X-bux champ.
Which means he's just a BIT above Scully and his

belt, I'm just sayin', I'm just sayin'!! [/kenJeong]

has got a sure-fire winner of a team in Sweetie Petey, Tommy Gunn, The Hired Gun and Dick Powers. Dream Team right'chere!!!! XD

Tula Keali sounds like a Chinese dish, Chris Chaos still has the most generic name on the roster, Centurion is a has-been just like Graves, Fuzz Shawn and other geezers clinging to their spot.....

....and speaking of the Universal Champion, yo, Warstein, yeah you, after I unoficially lead MY team to the main event and we destroy all to our spot on the top, the sole survivors of WarGames.... I'm coming after that title of yours. And when I'm finished with you?? You'll be lucky if you can still stand, much less wrestle. You think you're the elite? Well, bitch, I'm the FUTURE, and I am destined to lead this company to heights it's never seen before. Because that's what I do.... BELIEVE IT.

~ + ~

The scene opens to an arena, an XWF house show taking place as we speak. Steve Sayors is mid-ring interviewing some no-name j0bber who's about to compete... when SUDDENLY, the lights cut out.

The X-tron displays the following in crimson;

BELIEVE YE BE WORTHY, AND WORTHY YE SHALL BE
DESTROY THE TERROR WITHIN, LIVE FOR THE MOMENT
BATTLE OPRESSION, KILL THE HATE, CRUSH THE NEGATIVE

ADRENALIZE ME.

The lights begin to flicker various hues of red, as the curtain jerker in the ring displays clear fear... when out of nowhere, red liquid splatters all over his body from the rafters, resembling blood pouring down his skin. He slips, as does Sayers, and the two drop to the canvas... a heart appears on the X-tron, pulpitating in and out, blood dripping with every pulpitation.

Speakers: Do you know why this business is dying? It's because of jackasses like the ham and egger in that ring. It's because of guys like Felix Jones and Carnes who've RUINED this company. I have had my fill, and soon? I will return, and bring the ceiling crumbling down upon your heads. The time has come and gone for these disgraces to the XWF and pro wrestling itself.

Speakers: ......beware.

~ + ~

No more.

No more crying, no panicking, no more giving up.

No
More.

- - - - -

The tron is blank. A black void. Two men combat center ring, somewhere in the middle of a house show card laden with no names and used-to-be's. Suddenly, the rafters fill with crimson pyro, shaking the roof. The lights dim and blood red liquid pours down upon the two also-rans, as they slip and slide onto their backs. Static slices through the X-Tron, as the fans build with excitement. The static is then replaced with the image of a black heart before a red backdrop... blood drips from the heart, as a young girl's voice rings out from the speakers.

Girl: Do not be alarmed... it is only the end approaching. You see those lights heading your way? They are not the gates of heaven opening, but instead? The oncoming of a mac truck, ready to steamroll you into oblivion. You latch onto your only shred of comfort, but you shouldn't be spending so much time worrying, draped in fear... No. For you see, the time for fear has come and gone. No more. Don't run and hide. Don't scurry from the shadows in the dark. Don't be afraid.

Be prepared. See you on the other side, my darlingz.

Afterward, the red liquid flows down the tron, cascading over the heart, before the lights are cut out... when they return, the two j0bbers are piled one atop the other, their hearts cut out through a gaping hole in their chests, blood splattered upon the canvas. Their last breaths have escaped them... and the tron is left with two words speaking loud and clear;

|NO MORE|

I wish I were where you are. All of you. I miss you guys...

...Though, the longer I further myself from you...

...the more I wonder why I cared about you in the first place.

See, there was this notion in the back of my mind that you people cared. That, when I returned, you held this flicker of a flame for me. Somehow, I came to the idea that you actually gave a damn.

Naievety, indeed.

However, now I've returned to the shadows I once took solace within, I see the truth for what it is. You never cared. Not when I first called XWF my home, not when I returned for the first time, nor did you when I returned for the second time.

I felt betrayed, seeing that the show went on without me.

No more.

If you don't need me, I don't need a single solitary one of you. I'm better than every last one of you, and when I return? I'll prove it. I no longer need celebration or sympathy. All I need is to see bodies broken by my hand, fallen on the mat at my feet. And as god as my witness you will see them.

You will be them.

The XWF was slowly sinking back in 2014. And now, as the years pass by, things digress further and further, making the landscape sorrier as the moments move on. A company can't build itself around a champion who'd just as soon take his ball and hightail it back home. He's untrustworthy, holding onto gold when he should be passing the torch...

...The Federation needs a resurgence. XWF needs a man that can guide it to a new plateau... or bury it in the backyard. There has never been a sadder state in wrestling than that of the XWF in recent times. Know this-- regardless of how things may be, things never remain the same. Change is constant, whether it be for better.... or worse.

Flight is an ability that only so many creatures are gfted with.
Though, that depends on your definition of the word 'flight'.

I can fly. I can soar. I can leap with the best of them, but the difference when it comes to my career is, I have been passed over and belittled more times than I can count. Though, when it all comes down to it, I brought it upon myself. That's the lesson that so many of today's stars tend to forget...

You fuck up? You learn... or you're lost in the sands of time.

I HOPE it cuts you up. Every missed curve ball. Every dropped pass. Every time you step into the ring and fall just THAT short of having your hand raised in victory. Stare up at those lights, sit up from the mat, dust yourself off, and then take it all in as a learning experience. Otherwise?

You will regret it as I have, year after year, match after match.

There came a time in my life, not too long ago, where I found myself spinning my wheels, going nowhere. I wanted more. I wanted to make a name for myself, I wanted to make an IMPACT. I had had it up to here with all of the laughter and loss. I needed to know within my heart that I was more than just another also-ran, some face in the crowd destined to be one more statistic in the grand scheme of things.

I'm no longer a number.
No more.

The XWF is a shipwreck. Its roster consists of those whose tanks are running empty, and even worse than them? Those who never had a full tank to begin with. When I am ready to return, believe me-- it will indeed be with an impact.

You wouldn't even recognize me anymore.

I hope some of you atleast have been noticing my messages. The little warning signs I've strewn about the XWF landscape. I'm almost there, ready to grab the reigns once again and to meet you all in the battlefield. I've changed. I've found myself, and I'm never turning back. Forget what you knew... all that matters is what you WILL know.

I never forget.

For so long I stood cold, unlike myself. I was frozen inside my own self made cell. I didn't want to stay there idly waiting for things to change, so I returned, from the tomb... Unfortunately, things were only worse than I remembered. So?

I took it upon myself to MAKE change.

I spent every waking moment building a story, bringing the people into my world. I was sick and tired of allowing myself to be used, abused, misused and misled for as long as I could remember. So, I showed the world where I came from... so they could realize where I was going. From the bottom to the top, to prove each and every last goddamned one of them they were wrong.

And not just about me. This was and IS bigger than me, TRUST me.

You are all a part of the game. The evolutionary struggle between then and now, them and us, the ready and the waiting. And the waiting don't always wait long enough. Change, ladies and gentlemen. We all have a deeper, more robust version of ourselves buried within us. It is up to each of us to dig underneath and find that side, or be left in the dust.

Are you strong enough to move forward? Or will you be forced to face the consequences?

The truth can be twisted, but it can always be unraveled again. Don't underestimate the forsaken. Don't overlook the forgotten. We rise, and we do so together. As a band, as a flock, as a pack. Mighty and unstoppable, we will show the world why you should always be careful how you treat a person...

...cuz he may just turn around and treat you to your final resting place.

Believe. And be prepared.

|Till we meet again|

#survival_of_the_fittest

_____________________________________________________________

Lost and found, turned around, I find myself divided.
Upside down, trapped in the sound of the world they have provided.
The years I've spent, the time I've lost, falling every day...
I fight, I scratch, I bite and claw, but nothing seems to change.
Confined within a hollow Earth, built from broken men.
Blood staining the floor and every inch of everything it can.
Walls, ceilings, bodies and hands, the madness slowly envelopes...

...it is here where I am lost and trapped...as my eternity slowly develops...
_____________________________________________________________

It's the world I know through a screen,
Everything I've seen in this scene,
Slowly draping itself around me,
Forcing me to wait and not be involved,
With the world I helped revolve,
Trapped in a mystery I cannot solve...

...but I can't wait for long...

That's just not me.
___________________________________________________________

05/31/2020

The autumn air whipped at my back. The concrete ceiling floor below my boots felt like home after walking the thirty or so flights of stairs to the top. I've always hated elevators. Something about vertigo and the intense, migraine headaches and dizziness I've felt since I was younger. I wear a mask, black with a crimson cross etched in the front... hiding myself from the world around me. My gloved hands gripped the bannister tightly as I gazed out at the city. I stood here, taking it all in and feeling its aura surround me...

Washington felt as right a place as any other to begin...

Soon, it would be the right time.

#iAm_transcending
#we_are_immortal
#BELiEVE

#RiSE

Thank you. Thank you everyone, now, before, after... everyone. Thank you for bringing me to an end... so I may return like the Phoenix, bigger, better, badder than ever. I rise from the flames as a force unparalelled. The XWF is slowly falling down to its foundation, a company that could have toppled all of its competition is now struggling to remain relevant... undeserving champions, a management team unworthy of its stature... The XWF cannot be saved. So, it is with that in mind, that I allow you all to realize.....

...you all remain on borrowed time. And WarGames will prove to be the first shot fired. The XWF WILL die...

The end is near...
We are your end.

"And the earth turned grey
The sea turned black
The rivers turned red
The sun turned cold
The beast turned pale
The stars turned fast...

"...And the air turned to poison"

Quote:"I am the bastion of illumination. I am the trailblazer for a new generation. I feel it in my bones...
WELCOME, to a new age. WELCOME, to a new Xtreme Wrestling Federation!! ........... let's dance."

showthread.php?tid=25971
showthread.php?tid=25957
watch?v=
#FzRZHpfUVz8
#aQ3E5GFZ5ig
#uxzpmuEKGJs
#YVJYznNayAc]]>

Wake up.
Smell the coffee.
Pay attention...
...you might learn something

Building walls around myself, to keep them all at bay.

Locking doors, between their roars, screaming their cries of dismay.

Sheltering myself from the outside world, keeping the pain within.

Even the best of us get left in the dust of our long-lived lives of sin.

The more they try to call me out, the further I draw myself in a veil,

There's nothing left for me to do, nothing left to tell.

I feel the hands grabbing my feet and pulling me to hell...

...But I'm not dead. I let out a rebel yell...

--WE ARE ETERNAL--

|to be continued|

...here comes trouble...

Come to me now all ye who hear this cry.

I don't give up. I don't back down.

I never, ever, surrender.

But I can see the landscape of a realm I once cherished... and I am lost in the world I find myself staring at. Every month, as years pass, this company slowly perishes. Death overcomes as I see useless scum drape themselves with what USED to be the most prestigious title in the world.

I remember the last time I was here... I was ridiculed, mocked, broken. I was made a fool, but this time? I use that heartache as a weapon to overcome those who've made the past three years of my life an absolute hell on earth. I don't look at you people as I once did. Remember--

Believe ye be worthy, and worthy ye shall be. Heheh... I know I am...

...But what are you?

Dust to dust, ash to ash, wind flowing through the cuffs of my coat, cutting through the neck... I feel alive once again. I wake up from my bed to find the miserable state I've found myself in slowly dissipating. The words and actions of the XWF faithful are beginning to transform from a knife in the back to a sword in my hand. I simply wish to let you all know that I'm not waiting around for someone to welcome me. I'm busting down the front door this time, and putting each and every one of you on red alert. Death will come for those who wait.

Dust to dust, ash to ash... time changes and the world evolves. The world revolves around those who don't wait, but instead those who take action and take what is theirs. And I'm finally ready to take action in this company, and leave my mark. I am ready to make a name for myself, regardless of which name that may be. Regardless...

...I'm ready. Are you?

|i'm gonna set this world on fire|

~ + ~

The world is a scary place. I don't know how else to put it. I've been through it all in my life, and I've been frightened at least half the time... but I persevere. Everyone I've ever crossed paths with has either used or abused me in some way. Just my life, I suppose. But I never, ever, EVER, give up. And I never move backward. Because quitting is for losers... and as long as I continue forward?

All I do is win.

So many men and women in my history have lived to see me fail. But you only really fail if you give up. So that's why, every time I fall? I get back up again. I will never allow another person to dictate how or why I live my life. I will NEVER allow someone to push me around and tell me what to do. I am a fighter, a warrior, and THAT, above anything else, is the kind of being I wish to be known as.

A warrior.

I'm ready to return to the realm that moved on and forgot me. I'm ready for the land that betrayed me and spat in my face. Anyone that reads this, please note... you're not safe. You can run, but you can't evade the Truth. I love this business, it's my passion, my heart, my soul... but you people have ruined it for me.

And the only way I can relight the fire is if I extinguish that of yours.

Be prepared.

|Believe ye be worthy, and worthy ye shall be|

~ + ~

Strong at heart, weak at body. Strong at spirit, weak at mind.

But each and every day I'm slowly recovering. I am on the track back to my yard.

.....Adrenalize me.

~ + ~

TO THOSE ON MY TEAM:

Graves has seen his best days, but i'm willing to elevate him to his old glory b4 he is put to pasture.

Mastermind has defeated me, which was probably his greatest achievement ever, seeing how fucking awesome I am. Anin't no thang. ^_^

Liam Roberts looks a lot like musical artist "YungBlud", which I'm unsure would be a compliment or a curse for the poor guy...

MY OPPONENTS:

Miss Direction....uhhhmmm....... can I buy a vowel, who is this chick anyhow?? o__O

Felix Jones defeated me by the skin of his teeth, and he KNOWS if he faced me again, it'd be his last night as champion.

Jenny Myst is the name of a two-cent hooker and Michael Bride is her pimp.

The Wizard needs to hop on a air-baloon and get his whack ass back to Kansas!!!! XD

RANDOM THOUGHTS ON OTHER LOSERS:

I should have been on Main and Page's teams, they know, I know, the whole world knows that was their biggest loss, and I offer my condolences

RussianRose is another chump who 'defeated' me, I'll admit it, but these losses are simply fueling me to my eventual throne built upon the Realm of Xtreme

Doug Whitford......LowMo......Who's hiring these guys?? .-.

BigD retired. ....I think?? o_O

Thunder Knux is the reigning X-bux champ.
Which means he's just a BIT above Scully and his

belt, I'm just sayin', I'm just sayin'!! [/kenJeong]

Quote:"I am the bastion of illumination. I am the trailblazer for a new generation. I feel it in my bones...
WELCOME, to a new age. WELCOME, to a new Xtreme Wrestling Federation!! ........... let's dance."

showthread.php?tid=25971
showthread.php?tid=25957
watch?v=
#FzRZHpfUVz8
#aQ3E5GFZ5ig
#uxzpmuEKGJs
#YVJYznNayAc]]> <![CDATA[Team Hanari's Family Vacation]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37134 Sat, 30 May 2020 23:41:18 -0700 Hanari Carnes]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37134

The table that Hanari had set up for his team was now full, other than the seat where Zane was supposed to sit. Instead of reserving it for Boris or Red, he had set a potted plant on the seat. Hanari figured it would be more useful than any of the three of them anyway, and it accented the rooms decoration.

They had each looked through their folders on their opponents, and many of them were impressed by how in depth the scouting report was. Especially Mastermind, who even went as far as to comment on how he was impressed with Hanari's "effort" during all of this.

Hanari shrugged it off.

Hanari surveyed the table. These were the men he was going into battle with. These were the men he personally chose. Whether they liked him or hated him, it was his responsibility to put them in the best possible position to win this entire thing. Hanari had a different method than most. He believed in positive reinforcement. He could 'rah rah' them until he was blue in the face, but it wouldn't have gotten through to them. At least, in his mind. He stood up, his hands on the table. He looked around at the table.

Liam looked rather disinterested. He seemed spaced out, but Hanari could tell he was focused. At least, he hoped.

Hanari's head turned towards Mastermind, who was examining his cigar, twisting it in his fingers as if he was trying to figure it out. He took a shot of the provided tequila, and was conversing with his two minions, who stood at either side. They spoke in hushed tones.

Then there was Graves. Graves had drank almost a bottle and a half by himself, and was currently, and sloppily, pouring another. He had taken Liam's cigar, as well as his own, and lit them both. He was smoking both at the same time. The mess in front of him was the cup of various nuts and plantain chips, which Hanari provided out of courtesy, and Graves had dug into and devoured like a hungry raccoon.

Hanari cringed. The cigars were all but crushed under his grip, and the remnants of the tequila ran down his lips. Hanari cringed.

"Okay, gentlemen. I have arranged a little pre-War Games fun for us."

Nobody seemed to be listening, except Mastermind, who seemed to always be listening to everything.

"I have arranged transportation to a location that I think you will all have a little fun at. Decompress. De-stress."

"Do we get to ride in that sweet limo again?" Von Hammer asked.

"Of course. I wouldn't expect you to know where you are going otherwise."

He signaled for them to get up, and they all did. Graves finished off a few of the nuts on the table as they followed their captain out into the expansive hallway. The elevator opened, and the group got in. Hanari smiled as he pressed the "1" button.

Graves made a joke "Press 1 for English". Hanari didn't comment.

When the elevator doors open, the long black limo was waiting for them. The driver already had the doors open.

They didn't really know where they were going, but the ride was enough to give Hanari a headache. He sat up front with the driver, but he could hear the music, the loud voices, and the occasional bang from behind the partition.

"They better not break anything", the driver said.

"Relax. It's all paid for." Hanari pulled a cigar out of his breast pocket. "The ride home will be much calmer."

When the limo finally rolled to a stop, the driver sighed and got out. He opened the back doors and the occupants basically poured out. Their eyes lit up like a small child's when they saw that they were at Six Flags Woodmore CDP of Prince George's County, Maryland, near Upper Marlboro, and in the Washington, DC metropolitan area.

They all ran towards the entrance. Yes, even Mastermind. When they got there, the gates were locked. Their faces dropped, and they turned to face their captain, who was walking slowly towards the entrance. Graves was kicking the doors and shouting.

"Whoa, whoa, fellas. No need for that. Save it for War Games."

"Doors are closed! Captain shit takes us to a shitty park during this shitty shut down! Good job, shit head!"

Hanari laughed, calmly, almost eerily.

He pulled out his cell phone, and made a call.

"Yo, chocito, we are here. Open the gates."

He turned towards his group and smiled as the gates unclicked.

"I have arranged the park, for a full day, for just us. You guys have fun, you deserve it."

Much to their surprise, when they entered the park, it was flooded with people! Were they in the wrong park?

Or had Hanari just told them that to see if they'd appreciate any gift they were given......

WHO CARES! IT'S SIX FLAGES!!!!!!!

Hanari had barely finished his sentence before they were all inside, taking off in different directions. The driver asked what Hanari was gonna do at the park.

"I am just going to sit here and enjoy this cigar. They need this release, let them have this. We'll round them up at sundown."

Hanari sat on a park bench, lighting the cigar. "I just wish these places served tequila."

The team disperses. At first, they are all together. They come to a booth normally used as a "Fortune Teller" station. The minions decide it would be a cool idea for Mastermind to get behind there and try his luck. After some ribbing, he gets behind the booth.

"Oooooh, me first, me first!" Melanie Childs says, giddy and excited.

Just as he is waving his arms, attempting to predict a random fortune, he hears a noise that makes him cringe.

"Mommy! I wanna get my fortune told!"

Damn kids.

"Ohhh...how cute are you?!" Melanie says.

It was a family of four. Mother, father, an older son and a young daughter.

"Rats" he said to himself.

"Me first, me first!"

Mastermind didn't know the first thing about this little girl, but the parents handed him a $20. He grinned.

"You..........." he says.

The girl waits in anticipation, her face beaming.

"You have a princess poster in your room."

"I do!"

"Your favorite color.......is pink."

"YES!"

He takes a deep breath.

"Your favorite movie is Frozen."

"YESSSSSSSSS"!

The girl was beside herself, but the mother, clearing her throat, chimes in.

"Umm....these are all things that are easy to guess about her. She's 7, she's wearing a PINK frozen shirt. For $20, what a ripoff!"

His lip curls.

"Yeah, how about a real fortune" the father says.

His lip curls further.

"Or give us the $20 back."

"Okay, you want a real fortune........she's going to grow up to be a spoiled brat who lives in your house until she's 21, never holding down a solid job because every time her boss gets on her case about being on social media at work she is going quit and come running back to you. There is no discipline in her life, if there was, you wouldn't let her walk around with cotton candy stains on her face and those retched shoes with the lights. Those aren't fashionable and never will be. She is going to get married at 35, divorced at 37, and will never have kids because any man she meets won't be able to get ;past the fact that she never had to do anything in her life but tie her shoes......."

The girl had tears in her eyes, the parents stared at each other, mouth agape.

"Your son smokes more weed than your car takes gas to get here."

The son's eyes go wide.

"You both can't stand to be in the same room as each other and both get home from work and immediately pour a drink, trying to numb the reality that you haven't had the stomachs to be intimate in over a decade. You're staying together for the kids but once these two crotch goblins are out of your house you two are going to go your separate ways, only ever seeing each other in claims court arguing about how much of each others pay checks you get each month."

The parents usher the kids away, shooting a dagger sharp look at him.

"That....was....FANTASTIC!"

Bored by this quickly, Graves sets out on his own path. Raiding the concessions, the workers scream and jump out of the way. He drinks a cup of ice, dumping it over his head as he shoves cold hotdogs into his mouth. Jumping back over the counter, he grunts a bit as he sees a roller coaster.....all those people having fun. How dare they!

Making his way towards it, He fights his way through the line, pushing kids out of the way. Just then, when he gets to the front of the line, he goes to grab a little girl by the hair to get her out of the way. When she spins around, she has on a Ms. Direction tee shirt. He stops dead in his tracks. He cocks his head, looking at her. The girl doesn't know what to make of him. They stand there for what feels like forever before the ride doors shut, and it begins to take off. The sound snaps them both out of it.

"Look mom! Frankenstein!"

Liam is sitting by himself on a spring loaded horse. He is rocking back and forth, staring into the abyss. He's always been a quiet kid.

As the sundown was begging, Hanari was approached by two security officers.

"Sir, you can't smoke that here."

He ignored them.

The team made their way back towards the entrance. Liam was in the back, head down, hands in pockets. Mastermind was walking with each of the Misfits at his side. Melanie was holding a big teddy bear, Hammer was drinking a giant soda. Graves had a cell phone in his hand, and something told Hanari it wasn't his.

He had the screen turned sideways, as if to show Hanari something.

He handed Hanari the phone.

Hanari smiled.

"God Bless America"

"Jenny the bitch Myst reckons I can't be successful in the Television Division. I won the damn thing. I'm also the 2nd longest Television Champion. Can she say that? 129 days. No then I think she needs to shut the fuck up. She doesn't know what she's talking about. You have too many ramblings.

"Ms. Direction, you think you are the baddest bitch in the XWF? You don't even come close to the baddest bitch of them all, Sarah Lacklan. Just keep on dreaming.

"Felix Jones, the so-called X-treme Champion. He really did a surprising number on his wannabe captain and took her title from her. Now shes off playing I was captain but I'm too shocked to play along. So what are you going to do Felix? Turn up? Turn the match on it's head. You have a target on your back and you'll have it from the get-go. You won't last too long with everyone gunning for that title.

"Michael McBride doesn't know whether he's coming or going. He's too damn stubborn to tell if he's here or there. But I'll show him who's boss.

"And then there's the Wizard. Who wants to beat me down? Do you think you can beat me down? Then think again doosh bag.

"I'll find out sooner or later why you are so focused on me Wizard. But before you think it'll be easy to take me out, I'll just play along, and send you right back to Oz, or to Middle Earth, or where ever the fuck you are from because I don't fucking give a flying fuck why you want me so badly, it is what it is. Your worst nightmare come to life. Because I will and I can master you one way or another.

"What do you want me to say about these fucks that I haven't already said? Shawn Warstein is all bark and very little bite. That's evidenced by the fact that I've been verbally punking him out for over a month, and yet no match, no fight, nothing. The fact that our scheduled match mysteriously became unscheduled, and not a single peep was uttered by our current Universal champ not only tells you everything you need to know about Shawn Warstein, but also the rest of this modern rosters mentality. They all talk a big game. They're the best, you're shit, no matter who it is. Except when they are faced with an impossible challenge like me, then it's all, oh fuck, what have I gotten myself into."

"I challenged Warstein, he accepted, but only if I faced him AND Atari on the same night. When those two fuck birds failed to get inside my head with that move, and it was obvious yo them that I was out for blood. No match."

"Big D has been ducking me for nearly 2 months under the guise of being retired, yet here we are at War Games, and look who just so happens to be unretired. So D, ready to lose your fucking virginity to me? Nothing I'd love more than to pop your XWF Deathmatch cherry, right after I fuck up TK next Savage. Hey, we can even make it for the title if that's what it takes. We all know that the only person in the XWF today who obcesses over titles they don't deserve more than you is Red X!"

"Shane 's team was my favorite to win it all, but I'll be Goddamned if their collective performance hasn't been underwhelming thus far. Maybe they're saving it all for the ring, or maybe Im just expecting too much from the mindless husk of a once great man. Either way, fuck, maybe getting drafted to team shit isn't as bad as I thought. Don't misquote me either, we're still an odd assemble of misfits and losers who are being led into battle by a guy who I have very little confidence in, but when compared to the other teams out there, and what they've become over the last two weeks… Yeah, our chances are looking pretty good. Sure, we had Zane pull out of our team, and yeah, even bigger faggotry is set to take his place no matter if it be Red X or Boris, but at least we didn't have to replace our own fuckin captain!"

"So team Red X became Team Atari. Then Team Atari became team Jenny, and now Team Jenny is Team B.O.B. because there's no way in Hell that Ms. Direction takes direction from ANYBODY. She gives the orders and you listen. Fail to do that, and she'll fuck you up, or worse, stand by as I do it for her. Jenny Myst might want to be the star of this show. She might want to be the leader of her team, but at the end of the day, she'll find that she's neither! B.O.B. are the stars here, no matter which of our teams would win!"

"And that's the thing about B.O.B. we're the hottest rising group in XWF history! Just wait and see! You don't even know who we have are claws sunk into, who we've welcomed to the side of villainy! So my message for each and every team out there, watch your backs, cause you never know when B.O.B. will strike, or what side it'll come from! How can any of you rely on your teammates when you don't know where their allegiances truly lie? Or hey, maybe Im just playing mind games. I'm sure everyone involved in this match is 100% committed to their teams, but even if that's true, the odds still lie with B.O.B. simply because we are representing 3 teams in this show. That's three times the odds that a B.O.B. team wins this whole shebang, and spoiler, it's going to be THIS one!"

"Why? Because I came into this team ready to carry some straight scrubs into the Main Event, or at the very least, get there myself, but having seen this teams commitment to make it to the end, I'm thinking that this will be the night that team shit defies all odds and works as a cohesive unit. Haha, okay that's a fuckin stretch, but if they all keep their heads down and allow me to bash in Jenny and Felix's skulls, it should be so easy for our FULL team to make it to the next round!"

"The time is upon us, my friends. This is where hero's are made, and legends surface from the flames. Where evil dies and good prevails. Career's are made in matches like this. I have a legacy I am chasing, of course. I want to be something here. What competitor doesn't? Despite Zane pulling a bush league move at the last minute, I am still very confident in my team. Michael Graves is a freak, yes, but he is a dangerous freak. A motivated, bloodthirsty freak. Mastermind has tried and true experience. I am the best technical wrestler in the world. Hell, all Liam has to do is throw a punch or two and this should be easy. We get the glory of setting the tone for the entire event. We are the first War Games style match of the night, and we get to face off against a team that cares more about what their wearing to the event than competing in it. There is really no reason to believe we can't win this. I just find it funny that guys like our champion have to wait until 24 hours before the event to open their mouths. And when they do? What is it? Absolutely nothing. Typical. He has to be the most arrogant champion on the roster. I thought I was bad. Teams have put in work all week long, training, promo-ing, and guys like this wait this long......

Saving the best for last, right?

It's a slap in the face to everyone who actually works to get what they want here. Not someone who steals a belt then waves it in our face when he has beaten nobody to keep it. A champion that doesn't deserve to represent this great company. Pathetic.

I have made my thoughts about Warstein clear. I have beaten a dead horse about him. Main, Page, all of them. I hang with giants, but the issue here is that the giants are only concerned with squashing gnomes. I am here to show the world that I deserve to be the top guy. I deserve to be the champion. I am going to lead my team into War Games, and when we come out on top all I will have to say is "I told you so." You can't beat me cleanly. You won last time hiding behind the guise of a triple threat and exploited a loop hole to keep the belt you stole. Next time we see each other, shit will be different, ese. I will break your arm, take your title and leave Shawn Warstein nothing more than an pleasant memory of an even more unpleasant man. Mano-y-mano, you can't beat me, and we both know it. I know not many people give me a chance to win this match. They look at my team and think that we are a bunch of scrubs, but we are determined to prove them wrong. My entire life I have fought, scratched and clawed, I have beaten the odds. Jenny, we face you first. You talk about your love of roasting your opponents. I'd roast you, but I'd never roast plastic, that is bad for the atmosphere. I think I said what I needed to say about you last time out. I hope you thought long and hard about those words. I am not like you, or like anyone else in this match. I am a natural born leader. I believe in my team, and I know that this is a concious effort by all parties involved. I can't do it alone. I don't have to pretend to be a superhero like some people......I am one. I want a better XWF, better competition, better matches, better champions. Guys like Doug Whitford polluting the XWF airspace? No me gusta. Men like Shane

, if you can even call him a man. Guys like Big D and Thunder Knuckles. I damn near broke their arms already....pretty sure Knuckles was crying. I have perhaps the most devistating finisher in the business and I am not afraid to use it.

Chris Chaos, if I see you in the finals, I will not go easy on you either, mi hermano. You seem to be blaming your recent failures on me, which is you're perogative. You haven't been successful in years and hang on to a win total you amassed when half this roster was still in high school. You're old news. Hanari is the new flame that sparks the revolution. You want change? You're looking at him.

Main and Page, I have nothing but respect for the both of you. I missed my chance, however, to break your arms last week on Savage. Don't think I will let that slip by again. You act all macho now, but when I lock in Viva La Republic, we will see who who the big and bad really is. This match is filled with men I've either beaten already or haven't faced. I've lost to one person in this entire match, two if you count Page. The rest......well lets just say you haven't met Hanari Carnes yet and that's probably for the best.

I chose who I did because I have faith. If anyone is going to let this team down it is not going to be me. I will be in the finals of War Games just like I was in the finals of March Madness. Nobody expected that and nobody expects this. The difference is, I am actually going to win it this time.

I'll put big money on it. Right now. American currency. I dare you, any of you, to prove me wrong.

I'm make you do what Donald Trump should have done a long time ago. I am going to make you tap out!

Hasta mañana, pendejos

XWF Tag Team Champion, 1 x
XWF Television Champion, 1 x
XWF Record: 12-12

]]>

"Oooooh, me first, me first!" Melanie Childs says, giddy and excited.

Hanari smiled.

"God Bless America"

XWF Tag Team Champion, 1 x
XWF Television Champion, 1 x
XWF Record: 12-12

]]> <![CDATA[Welcome To Jenny's World]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37141 Sat, 30 May 2020 23:14:34 -0700 Jenny Myst]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37141 "......So, what do we do now? Atara is MIA, The Wizard has been silent. Neither of them are here. It's just you, me and bat girl."

"Hey!"

Jenny smiles, looking at her nails. She has an entire bowl of pink Starburst in front of her. Only pink.

"Well....I mean, I think its clear, Felix, this is my team now."

"Say's who?"

"Umm......how old are you?"

"Ladies....stop it."

Felix is puffing on a cigarette, Ms. D waves her hand in front of her mouth in disgust as he blows it out.

"Why not be a collective unit? Do we even really need a leader?"

Jenny and Ms. D look at each other.

"Typical male", they say in unison.

Jenny undoes a pink starburst from its wrapper and pops it in her mouth.

"Okay, so, why not go by seniority? I mean, we have that McBride guy on the team. He has a lot of experience."

"Umm.....Felix", Jenny says between chews, "I don't think you are in a position to be naming anyone captain. You've been here like a week."

"Um.....I've been here long enough to be X-Treme Champion, toots."

"Ohh here we go with that toxic masculinity sch-tic. Cut the shit, Felix, this is my team now."

"Is that all you care about?"

"No. I want to win, of course, but I want to win with MY name on it....."

Just as she finishes her sentence the hotel room door opens and McBride marches in.

"What did I miss?"

"Ms. Period pants over here is saying it should be her team........"

"Oh, stop it skinny jeans!"

"HEY!"

They both look, Ms. D even jumped a little in her chair.

"Is this really the attitude we want to take going into War Games?! We all need to get along out there or we're going to be slaughtered."

"I'd listen to Braveheart if I were you....."

"Braveheart is Scottish!"

Felix takes another puff of his cigarette before smushing it in the ash tray.

McBride uncaps a bottle of whiskey and pours it into a room-provided glass. No ice. He sits at the table with the others. Jenny opens and eats another pink starburst.

"Why don't we do this, we will all make a pitch as to why we should be team captain? Most convincing pitch wins.....I love a good game."

Jenny rolls her eyes with an ugh.

"Well, Ms. Myst, do you wanna begin?"

"Hard pass. I already have this in the bag. How bout skinny jeans over there tells us why he should be."

"Stop calling me skinny jeans"

Opening another pink Starburst.

"Because I am the champion, okay? I am the only champion on this time and by the hierarchy of wrestling society, that makes me superior to all of you. Plus, Atara picked me first."

Jenny yawns.

"How about you, Sean Connery?"

"Also Scottish!"

"And?"

McBride downs a shot, slamming the glass on the table. This time Jenny flinches.

"Because I am the oldest fucking person in this room. I have seen more, done more, faced more and beat more than all of you combined! I have the ability to ,lead because I know what it takes to get the job done! I put up with bullshit from nobody and I like to hurt people."

Jenny opens what seems like her tenth pink Starburst.

"Ms. D?"

"How come she doesn't get some stupid nickname----"

Jenny put her hand up, "shut it."

"Ms. D?"

The girl in the mask looks down, moving her feet around under the table. Looking up, her and Jenny's eyes locked.

"Aww heck......crap, I hate these....well.....gosh, I don't even really wanna be captain........I just wanna go in there and bash some stuffs! Create some chaos! Have some fun!"

Both men sighed.

"This game is boring. You all know what I'm gonna say. I'm should be captain because I am the Queen and Ms. Perfection and totally fabulous......."

They all look at her....

"Okay. Fine....I have a more fun game.......but Ms. D, stop playing Ms. Innocent. This isn't Britney Spears circa 1998. How about we play MY favorite game. ROAST. Gimme your best.....tell me what you think of every opponent in this match......."

"Every opponent?"

"Hush....women are speaking."

Felix reaches for McBrides whiskey. He gladly obliges.

"You're not leaving this room until you give me something good."

Both men ugh'd.

"So?"

Ms. Direction takes a few moments, then stares Jenny straight in the eyes.

"How about McBride. You got first, set the tone. Can you do that without screaming?"

He stares at her.

Michael took a fat long drag from his cigar before blowing out grey smoke into the air

"Mastermind, you Kiwi bird fucker. I'm forgettable? The fuck are you talking about? I may be a part timer but you've been here the whole time and people still forget that you're alive. You're the one with the ego lad. You go on and on and on how you mastered this mind and that one and blah blah blah. If I have to watch another promo of you on your private jet, I'm going to fuckin' bomb it so I can save everyone from those God awful promos of yours. I fell asleep from your last one. Now when I can't get to sleep at night, I don't have to count sheep anymore, I can just turn on one of your promos and be passed out in moments. Maybe you can go do that for a living instead of wrestling. Go record yourself talking about so called this and that. You'll make money off of it. Trust me. You'd do a lot better at that than stepping in the ring with me. I'm better than you in every way possible and I don't have to handout fucking t-shirts to do it, I'm just a part-timer right? I'm nothing right? Suck a dick. In fact, go suck Gilmour's dick because you're that's all you're good for. Oh and another thing. Why do we have to be with you as your check you're fucking e-mail. That's another common thing about you. Your jet and checking your e-mails. I swear I saw you got mail from Butt Plus R US. Please just keep your personal life away from us. I don't care if you're a

, by always, go suck as much cock as you want, shit. Maybe I should blow up your plane and laptop. Maybe it would help you become a better person. Who knows? What I do know, is you're not worth anything. To your team or to the XWF. If you died tomorrow. No one would shed a tear. We would just throw your body into a trash can and call it a night. Know your place Mastermind and keep your mouth shut."

"Shane Caver. What the fuck happened to you? Where did you go? I remember coming into the XWF when you owned it. You were a ruthless mother fucking mad lad and now you're a shell of that. Where did it all go wrong? How could this have happened? I'm not mad, I just feel so let down. I thought out of everyone here. You were going to be the biggest threat but no. You let me down. I was looking forwards to fighting you. I could tell it would have been an once in a life time battle. It's not meant to be. You let down me, you let down your team but worst of all. You let down yourself. Didn't you hack up a poor lad a few weeks ago? Whatever took over the Shane's body was useless. Some evil spirit, yeah it turned out so great. God dammit. Fuck you Shane. May the Devil slap the fuck out of you for being a failure"

"Peter, don't think I forgot about my brother. I wish we could have been on the same team. We would have fucked some shit up. Like we always do but now we could end up facing each other. Which is good too. I don't remember the last time we fought one another. It's been too long. You know we always had the best fights in the XWF. We can do it again but that all depends on your team and from where I'm looking. I don't think you're going to make to the finals. I know you will fight your heart out but brother. You got some bad luck. That sucks. I'm sorry but Hired Gun five thousand or the power of Dick just isn't going to cut. The fates seem to be so cruel to you Gilmour. That sorry sack of shit Tommy Gunn is with you. It kinda makes me laugh. Theo must had a good laugh with that one. Sorry but we all know it's true buddy. Fear not, we'll step into the ring and have an epic battle some other time. It's just not going to be at War Games."

"Centy, lad. How the fuck are you? So remember when I got back to you late on that match you challenged me to, which by the way, my bad. I didn't see it before. You said you'd still take me on? What happened? You never got back to me on that? That's fucked up lad. I'm not happy about it. Here I thought you'd jump at the match, you were the one who wanted it in the first place. We'll just have to meet in the main event won't we? I don't know what your deal is but you been fucking with my friend Gilly and when you fuck with a friend of mine, you're fucking with me. I hope you do win and make it to the next round. So I can beat the ever living shit outta you. That will teach you a lesson and if not, I'll just have to do it over and over again til you learn. I'm going to smack that shit eating grin of your face."

Jenny nods.

"Good. Good......see, D, it's not that hard.............so?"

She almost explodes out of her seat.

"So team B.O.B. vs Team Shit? That's not quite right is it? Team Shit can't be shit simply because B.O.B. is being represented by one Micheal Graves. A Micheal Graves that only I hold the power to control. Micheal Graves is a rabid animal, and I've let him off the leash when I could have simply ordered him to totally bone his teammates and guarantee Team B.O.B. makes it to the main event. The question that you have to ask yourself is why? Why would I not use every advantage at my disposal to secure our spot in the main event?"

"It's simple stupid, there's more fun in letting the cards fall as they may!"

Ms. Direction winks at Felix Jones before continuing.

"B.O.B. is dedicated to bring carnage and mayhem to the XWF. We are the yin to all of your heroes yangs. They fight for peace, as if fighting for the ability to not fight isn't the stupidest thing that I’ve ever heard of!"

"So, who's making it to the end? Who's winning this thing? My opinion?"

"Who cares!!?"

"What even is this event? What's the point? Bragging rights? Who gives a frick!!? Some sort of prize? Maybe a title shot? Screw that, B.O.B. doesn't fight for titles, we take them. As a matter of fact, we take everything that we want and we dare anyone to try and stop us! So I guess that just leaves the million dollar question, why did I sign up to be a replacement?"

"Because you can't have a big show without featuring the biggest star that Anarchy has ever seen now can you? That and the fact that my involvement in this event is more about having some fun kicking losers teeth down their throats than anything else. If we win, yay, if we don't, who gives a crap?"

"Ugh, this is sooo stupid. I'm expected to talk about all of these clowns that we have to face and even the ones that we might face. I don't know what part of I really don’t care that these people are struggling with. I didn't even watch a single promo that I wasn't at least a guest star in. Does that tell you how little I care? Yet here I am, running off at the mouth because Jenny asked me nicely. This is exactly why being good sucks so hard! I should have just told her to eat me!"

"But Jenny Myst is a pretty good supervillain in her own right! Small scale sure, but still a villain, and I respect that."

"Soooooooo…"

"WORD ASSOCIATION!!"

"HANARI CARNES = BUMBLING FOOL WHO THINKS SOME SMALL SCALE PRANK IS ENOUGH TO EARN MICHAEL'S LOYALTY! Pffft!"

"MASTERMIND = LITERALLY THE OPPOSITE OF HIS NAMESAKE, PROVEN EVERY SINGLE TIME HE OPENS HIS MOUTH!"

"MICHAEL GRAVES = MY BITCH, ASK HIM!"

"BORIS AND RED X = WHO CARES?"

"LIAM ROBERTS = WHO?"

"CENTURION = HAD TO CHEAT TO BEAT A GIRL IN AN ARM WRESTLING MATCH! SOME LEADER!!"

"TULA KEALI'I = WANNABE HERO WHO WILL SOON REALIZE THAT SHE SHOULDN'T STICK HER NOSE WHERE IT DOESN'T BELONG!"

"CHRIS CHAOS = OBSESSED WITH A TITLE THAT HE'S PROVEN INCAPABLE OF RECLAIMING FOR YEARS!!"

"SHAWN WARSTEIN = MEDIUM FISH, VERY SMALL POND!!"

"DOUG WHITFORD = WHO? OH YEAH, IDIOT TRYIN TO MAKE A NAME FOR HIMSELF BY LETTING GRAVY MURDER HIM ON LIVE TV!!"

"BIG D = WHY IS HE EVEN HERE? WHAT CREDIBILITY DOES HE EVEN HAVE AT THIS POINT? TOO SCARED TO FIGHT GRAVY, BUT MORE THAN HAPPY TO MAKE HIS RETURN FIGHTING AT THE CHAMPS SIDE. PROBABLY THINKS HE'LL GET ANOTHER UNI LOSS IF HE DOES WELL. LIKELY WON'T."

"ROBERT THE OMEGA MAIN = FREELANCE VILLAIN. SHOULD JOIN B.O.B. NOTHING BAD TO SAY!!"

"CHRONIC CHRIS PAGE = SEE ROBERT MAIN AND BE LESS COOL ABOUT IT, IF THAT'S EVEN POSSIBLE… OH GUESS IT IS!!"

"THUNDER KNUCKLES = GOOD GUY, NO BAD GUY!! A LITTLE CONFUSED RIGHT NOW."

"RUSSIAN ROSE = MILDLY TALENTED ASSKICKER WHO WAS SUDDENLY REPLACED BY."

ALEXEI MEDVED = UH… OKAY!!"

"LOW MO = WHO?"

"SHANE = IT'S FRICKIN SHANE . THE ORIGINAL FUCKED UP VILLAIN OF THE XWF! NOW JUST A HOLLOW SHELL OF RAMPAGING CHAOS. HMMM, HOW TO CONVINCE HIM TO JOIN B.O.B.?"

"DICK POWERS = I CAN'T TELL YOU DICK ABOUT DICK POWERS. DIDN'T WATCH, DON'T CARE. COOL NAME THO!"

"THE HIRED GUN = HERE'S ANOTHER DON'T CARE. I HEAR HIS RATES ARE VERY INFLATED COMPARED TO THE SERVICES YOU GET!!"

"PETER FN GILMOUR = A GODDAMNED LEGEND WHO IS WRONGFULLY SHAMED BY THE JEALOUS TURDS THAT INCORRECTLY BELIEVE THEMSELVES TO BE BETTER THAN HIM, DESPITE THE FACT THAT THEY'LL LIKELY NEVER ACHIEVE THE SAME LEVEL OF SUCCESS THAT HE HAS!"

"TOMMY GUNN = A GUY, WITH A GUN. COULD BE A COOL VILLAIN IF HE WEREN'T SUCH MORON. SEEMS AS THOUGH HE WOULD RATHER FIGHT HIS OWN TEAMMATE THAN WIN. CLAIMS TO HAVE RETIRED BECAUSE OF A LACK OF COMPETITION. HAS AN 8 AND 2 CAREER RECORD… OKAY!!"

Ms. Direction turns to Jenny.

"There, happy?"

Jenny smiles.

"My turn."

"So, lets not get it twisted, this is my team. Atara dropped the ball, and I picked it up. It is what I do, what I have always done. I date Chris Chaos, I am used to cleaning up someone else's mess. And believe me, if someone knows how to make a mess, its that dude. I am not even worried about him, to be honest. He is going to be so wrapped up in Robert Main, if he makes it that far, that a simple roll up could beat him. Hell, a toddler could beat him. Mental illness is a scary thing.

Look, I'll be frank. I've said most of what I'm gonna say. I mean I've worn out most of my zippy one liners and clever puns. I've already talked about Big D's face looks like Lindsay Lohan's face stretched over Jean Claude Can Damme's skull. Haven't I? Oh wait, maybe not. Well add that to the list! Pretty sure I talked about how Mastermind's head is so big he makes a side income by using it as a balloon at kid's birthday parties. Oh wait, I hadn't yet. Shit. Well, add that too!

My point is, I am on fire all the time. I don't need to be redundant and monotonous. I don't need to exhaust the same vanilla lines time in and time out like some people here. I get in, do what I need to do, say what I need to say, and get out.

Like, for example, I already talked about Centurion. I already mentioned that if someone picks up a magic lamp and whispers "Walgreen's Assistant Manager", Centurion would appear. No? Again? Damn. But for real, he's like the type of dude who would only watch porn if it was on vinyl. Just boring. Old, and boring. Pretty sure I HAVE called him that before, though.

See? I just have so many, sometimes I forget if I've used them before.

Thunder Knuckles, why would I wanna even address him? His body looks like a kindergartners attempt to make a person out of playdoh. I am supposed to be afraid of anyone in this match? I mean, they say TK can pack a punch. I think TK needs to stop packing lunch, personally. Is anyone really afraid of a guy who looks like he's jerked off to more comics than Louis C.K.? You see, I am fearless. There is a difference between egotistical and fearless. Our Universal Champion is egotistical, but he's got more fear in him than Freddie Mercury had AIDS cells. He knows his days are numbered. Me, shiiiiit, I'm just getting started! I'm a free and independent woman now, and you are all gonna find out verrrrry soon that I am the baddest bitch on the planet!

Russian Rose's

brother? Like, are we serious? This is a real thing.....really? We're serious here? It's pretty clear Main and Page paid a translator to write out index cards for him to read off screen. No way was that really his doing. And funny, they appear in every one of his promos? I thought Main was confident in his team? He already has to carry Page, why not carry Rose too? But I don't see him popping up on LowMo's timeline. I'll just never understand Sasquatch bonding techniques.

*sigh*

Did I even waste my time with Peter Gilmour before? Should I even? Will he even make it out of the first 5 minutes? Well, Peetey, lemme just say this. You talk all big and bad, like usual, yelling about superdicks and what not.......you scream "hardcore", but the small part of your body you aren't hiding with your over sized tee shirt screams "soft-serve." I've done the Peter Gilmour dance before. it's like the beginner setting on DDR. BORING.

Tula....Tula, Tula, Tula. I'm pretty sure I used to bowl against that guy on Wii Sports! Ha, I kid, I kid. Tula, babe, you're one of the only other women in this match. Shame I gotta beat you down baby girl, normally I'm all about girl power. but a Queen must assert her dominance. It's gotta suck to be you, though. I mean, jesus, what a forehead! Eyebrows to hairline, that's easily a $6 cab ride. I just hope sugar daddy Cent is keeping those 20's coming! And hey, of this doesn't work out, you could get a job being the token minority field reporter than I see on like every news cast. 2020...diversity!

Graves.....just.......stop it. I would try to roast your ass again, but your ego is probably made out of lead, which explains the brain damage. Your hair says lesbian but your face says pedo. Maybe Tula can awkwardly question you about the disappearance of Dolly Waters and you two can just have a back and forth grunt fest, since, that's about the most productive noise the two of you make out of your faces anyway.

Just so many......we've been over all of this before. We've talked about how Shane

left XWF brass to snag the lead role in a movie about Adam Sandler's slowest sperm.

Main, Page, like I said, I'ma comin! Which, I'm sure both of your dad's wish they never said right about now. Check it. Jokes aside. I am going to shock the world. I am going to come out here and show everyone that not only do I have the sharpest tongue, the quicket wit, the illest burns, and the absolute best hair........I am damn good between those ropes. I am brutal, and I don't give a flying fuck about you or your wellbeing, no matter who you are. I'll admit it, I'm superficial, I'm selfish. But when's the last time helping anyone ever helped me? So Felix, D, Wizard, McBride.....I'm here to lead you into battle but I am here to win. If you wanna stand beside me and fight, you're more than welcome, but if you don't want this as badly as I want this then I kindly ask that you get the fuck out of the way.

Welcome to Jenny's World, Population, WON.

They all get up to leave, but Jenny grabs Ms. Direction's arm, sitting her back down.

"Fellas, you're dismissed, I'll see you tomorrow night. Ms. D, stay, I wanna talk to you about something."

]]> "......So, what do we do now? Atara is MIA, The Wizard has been silent. Neither of them are here. It's just you, me and bat girl."

"Hey!"

Jenny smiles, looking at her nails. She has an entire bowl of pink Starburst in front of her. Only pink.

"Well....I mean, I think its clear, Felix, this is my team now."

"Say's who?"

"Umm......how old are you?"

"Ladies....stop it."

Felix is puffing on a cigarette, Ms. D waves her hand in front of her mouth in disgust as he blows it out.

"Why not be a collective unit? Do we even really need a leader?"

Jenny and Ms. D look at each other.

"Typical male", they say in unison.

Jenny undoes a pink starburst from its wrapper and pops it in her mouth.

"Okay, so, why not go by seniority? I mean, we have that McBride guy on the team. He has a lot of experience."

"Umm.....Felix", Jenny says between chews, "I don't think you are in a position to be naming anyone captain. You've been here like a week."

"Um.....I've been here long enough to be X-Treme Champion, toots."

"Ohh here we go with that toxic masculinity sch-tic. Cut the shit, Felix, this is my team now."

"Is that all you care about?"

"No. I want to win, of course, but I want to win with MY name on it....."

Just as she finishes her sentence the hotel room door opens and McBride marches in.

"What did I miss?"

"Ms. Period pants over here is saying it should be her team........"

"Oh, stop it skinny jeans!"

"HEY!"

They both look, Ms. D even jumped a little in her chair.

"Is this really the attitude we want to take going into War Games?! We all need to get along out there or we're going to be slaughtered."

"I'd listen to Braveheart if I were you....."

"Braveheart is Scottish!"

Felix takes another puff of his cigarette before smushing it in the ash tray.

McBride uncaps a bottle of whiskey and pours it into a room-provided glass. No ice. He sits at the table with the others. Jenny opens and eats another pink starburst.

"Why don't we do this, we will all make a pitch as to why we should be team captain? Most convincing pitch wins.....I love a good game."

Jenny rolls her eyes with an ugh.

"Well, Ms. Myst, do you wanna begin?"

"Hard pass. I already have this in the bag. How bout skinny jeans over there tells us why he should be."

"Stop calling me skinny jeans"

Opening another pink Starburst.

"Because I am the champion, okay? I am the only champion on this time and by the hierarchy of wrestling society, that makes me superior to all of you. Plus, Atara picked me first."

Jenny yawns.

"How about you, Sean Connery?"

"Also Scottish!"

"And?"

McBride downs a shot, slamming the glass on the table. This time Jenny flinches.

"Because I am the oldest fucking person in this room. I have seen more, done more, faced more and beat more than all of you combined! I have the ability to ,lead because I know what it takes to get the job done! I put up with bullshit from nobody and I like to hurt people."

Jenny opens what seems like her tenth pink Starburst.

"Ms. D?"

"How come she doesn't get some stupid nickname----"

Jenny put her hand up, "shut it."

"Ms. D?"

The girl in the mask looks down, moving her feet around under the table. Looking up, her and Jenny's eyes locked.

"Aww heck......crap, I hate these....well.....gosh, I don't even really wanna be captain........I just wanna go in there and bash some stuffs! Create some chaos! Have some fun!"

Both men sighed.

"This game is boring. You all know what I'm gonna say. I'm should be captain because I am the Queen and Ms. Perfection and totally fabulous......."

They all look at her....

"Okay. Fine....I have a more fun game.......but Ms. D, stop playing Ms. Innocent. This isn't Britney Spears circa 1998. How about we play MY favorite game. ROAST. Gimme your best.....tell me what you think of every opponent in this match......."

"Every opponent?"

"Hush....women are speaking."

Felix reaches for McBrides whiskey. He gladly obliges.

"You're not leaving this room until you give me something good."

Both men ugh'd.

"So?"

Ms. Direction takes a few moments, then stares Jenny straight in the eyes.

"How about McBride. You got first, set the tone. Can you do that without screaming?"

He stares at her.

Michael took a fat long drag from his cigar before blowing out grey smoke into the air

"Mastermind, you Kiwi bird fucker. I'm forgettable? The fuck are you talking about? I may be a part timer but you've been here the whole time and people still forget that you're alive. You're the one with the ego lad. You go on and on and on how you mastered this mind and that one and blah blah blah. If I have to watch another promo of you on your private jet, I'm going to fuckin' bomb it so I can save everyone from those God awful promos of yours. I fell asleep from your last one. Now when I can't get to sleep at night, I don't have to count sheep anymore, I can just turn on one of your promos and be passed out in moments. Maybe you can go do that for a living instead of wrestling. Go record yourself talking about so called this and that. You'll make money off of it. Trust me. You'd do a lot better at that than stepping in the ring with me. I'm better than you in every way possible and I don't have to handout fucking t-shirts to do it, I'm just a part-timer right? I'm nothing right? Suck a dick. In fact, go suck Gilmour's dick because you're that's all you're good for. Oh and another thing. Why do we have to be with you as your check you're fucking e-mail. That's another common thing about you. Your jet and checking your e-mails. I swear I saw you got mail from Butt Plus R US. Please just keep your personal life away from us. I don't care if you're a

]]> <![CDATA[Coffee and Cigarettes]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37145 Sat, 30 May 2020 22:31:36 -0700 Felix Jones]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37145 My eyes slowly opened, the Sun was shining through the blinds causing me to wake up due to the heat. It had been hot lately in Las Vegas, but that was just a taste of the true heat to come. Summer was right around the corner and I would be blasting my AC to the max, all day, everyday. I sat up in bed and wiped the sleep from my eyes before looking around the room. Thankfully Jillian was nowhere to be seen. I didn't have the time nor patience to deal with her but just to make sure, I grabbed my gun from under my pillow and proceeded to check around my apartment, yep. She wasn't here. That was a load off my shoulders, for the time the being. I knew she would call me up soon for the job she needed help with. That didn't sit right with me, that was my old life but with that Blood oath, there wasn't anything I could do about it and she knew it. Oh well. I needed to make a call before I got my day started, I picked up my cell from the nightstand and called my fellow bounty hunter Jut. It rang a few times before he answered, it sounded like I had woken him up

"Hey man, sorry if I woke you up."

"Don't worry, I was kinda already awake."

"Oh, then I don't feel so bad. How'd last night go?"

"Shitty, All I got were rumors. He's hiding fuckin well. I might have to call an old buddy of mine. I just have a feeling in my gut."

That threw me off guard. When Jut got a feeling like this, more often than not, his gut feeling turned out to be something, from good to bad. It didn't matter, figured it was like a sixth sense, like how lucky I could be. I don't think we have super powers or some shit but it was something I couldn't explain myself.

"Does it have something to do with the rumors you were talking about?

"In a way. I told you the other day, Jebediah was planning something right? Well there have been a few thefts. four in fact. All of them gun stores. The strange part is that all of them were robbed on the same day all across the state of Nevada, and one robbery happened here in Vegas. I don't think it's a coincidence."

"That enough for me. He steals guns, and of course Jeb is going to use them in some was. So that leaves us with stopping him somehow and getting paid. Who's your buddy you want to call?"

I heard Justin spark up a cigarette, I did the same. That first puff of the morning was always a pleasant one. I loved it. What I would love even more, was a cup of joe. Coffee and cigarettes, the breakfast of champions. I jumped out of bed and walked my ass to the kitchen and turned on Mr.Coffee, Dark Helmet would be proud. I had already put the coffee int he maker, so all I had to do was press a button. In moments I'd have the nectar of the Gods at my fingertips. My Jurassic Park mug was ready. It was my favorite coffee mug, I owned a collection of them but this one was my baby. I put my cell on speaker so I could move around more freely to grab the stuff I needed while talking to Jut.

[green]"My friend works for the F.B.I. I havne't been able to get a hold of him lately but he texted me last night before I went to sleep, said for me to call him at three P.M. I'll see what he can tell me. I'm sure he caught onto the thefts as well. He's a smart man."

"He's a fed huh? Normally they are assholes aren't they? They don't like our types."

I've never met a fed that I could get along with. Always trying to tell us bounty hunters how to do our job, thinking they are hot shit, being cocky, all that jazz. They just annoyed the crap outta me. I tried to stay away from them as much as I could. One day I was going punch an F.B.I. agent in the face. It was only a matter of time and when that day happens, boy it's going to something else.

"This is true, yes but I've known this man for years. He's a good man, we don't have anything to worry about. Trust me."

Mr.Coffee made a beeping sound, telling me it was finished. I took the creamer out of the refrigerator before pouring myself a cup. I added creamer, mixed it up and took down the first sip. It was the spark I needed to become fully away. I felt damn good. After that night sleep and this coffee. I was feeling fantastic, more alive than I have been these past few weeks. My body and soul were alive again. It was about damn time too.

"Cool. Let me know what's up. For now, I'm going to sit down and have myself some breakfast. Wanna meet up at Kitty's Saloon later?"

"That's a good idea, I could use a drink later. How's six?"

"Six it is. Take care buddy." Jut said his goodbyes and we hung up, which was good because my belly was yelling at me to get something in it. I knew just want I needed. Some fluffy, milk-butter pancakes with eggs and bacon and not to far from my apartment, there was a diner who severed the best. No need to drive, I could walk there in ten minutes, no point in wasting gas when I could enjoy a walk. I was going to start off this morning strong. That was the plan anyways but plans tend to change suddenly. That's the adventure of life. You never know what you're gonna get. Forrest Gump is a smart man.

===========================
===========================
===========================

"I would be lying if I said I wasn't having fun in all this. It might be the fact it's my first big XWF event but I'm having a such a fuck good time. Even with the bullshit that's been happen. We saw a lot of changes happen last week with people being replaced, I was shocked with that even my team's captain had disappeared, even more so that Robbie Bourbon was dropped. He talked all that shit and it was for nothing. The fuck up part, I knew he could back his stuff up but no. He didn't do shit. A shame. As for my team. Sure Atara being taken away does suck but it doesn't bother me. My teamed ended up better than others. That's a fact. We even have a fucking Wizard on our side now. He'll send lighting bolts up all of your ass's. It's true. I'm not worried one damn bit. We'll take down team Carnes no problem at all. Boris or Red-X is not going to help them out one bit. They could get an extra member and we'd still win."

"Sorry Carnes, you're out gunned here, you're not going to be able to pull off any sort of victory. Just by looking at you, I can tell, Hell a five year old would be able to see you can't win. I've gone back and watched the tapes. You're a one time T.V. champion. You held it for twenty days and that's it. Every other title shot you've had, nothing has come from it. So why on Earth should our team have any fear of losing? If you don't matter, than none of your teammates do. Mastermind? Are you fucking kidding me? or how about Liam Roberts? Do you think Michael Graves is going to save you ass? If you're counting on him, holy shit. You're fucked, Plain and simple, sorry try again next War Games. I would say I feel bad but I don't. A pedo and a shitty leader like yourself Carnes. I'd be doing you a favor by taking your team out. So you don't have to embarrass yourselves. We have more important opponents to fight than your motley of a crew. Speak of other people

"Robert Main. Oh man, buddy. If you think Lowmo pulling his weight is a good thing. That just makes me worry about you. If he hadn't said shit and was replaced, you would have came out of it better than you are now. He's your weak link my friend and that's going to cost you, big time. I'm not sheep if everyone know it's the truth but you know what cracks me the fuck up? You tell me this, how everyone is saying that fact. You proceed to do the same thing that everyone else is talking about my team. Everyone said shit about Atara Themis ghosting us, and you turn around and call me a n00b? Are you on meth? You do see the hypocrisy in your statement or did you think I wouldn't catch it? Get the fuck outta here with that Robert. No wonder you haven't been back up to the top. You're so stuck up your own ass, you enjoy the smell of your bullshit. Fuck you. I have a bigger dog in this fight than you. My team won on the replacements. We're good now. So please keep talking shit, it doesn't mean jack to me.

"I have to fight harder than anyone here. This xtreme belt could be taken from me. While all of you other champions know if you lose, you're belts are staying right there with you. Not me, mine is gone. That's why I'm the most dangerous one in War Games. I'll do what it takes to keep my title. I don't care if I have to shoot someone in the dick, you can bet your ass I will. I have problem playing dirty, or cheating or whatever. It doesn't bother me. I don't fight fair, I fight to win and that's what's going to happen. So anyone out there, I don't care if it's Shawn or Centurion, Peter Gilmour, Shane

's zombie grandmother. If you're in my team's way. You're going to get stomped. What the fuck are you going to do about? Fuck you, there's nothing you can do.]]> My eyes slowly opened, the Sun was shining through the blinds causing me to wake up due to the heat. It had been hot lately in Las Vegas, but that was just a taste of the true heat to come. Summer was right around the corner and I would be blasting my AC to the max, all day, everyday. I sat up in bed and wiped the sleep from my eyes before looking around the room. Thankfully Jillian was nowhere to be seen. I didn't have the time nor patience to deal with her but just to make sure, I grabbed my gun from under my pillow and proceeded to check around my apartment, yep. She wasn't here. That was a load off my shoulders, for the time the being. I knew she would call me up soon for the job she needed help with. That didn't sit right with me, that was my old life but with that Blood oath, there wasn't anything I could do about it and she knew it. Oh well. I needed to make a call before I got my day started, I picked up my cell from the nightstand and called my fellow bounty hunter Jut. It rang a few times before he answered, it sounded like I had woken him up

"Hey man, sorry if I woke you up."

"Don't worry, I was kinda already awake."

"Oh, then I don't feel so bad. How'd last night go?"

"Shitty, All I got were rumors. He's hiding fuckin well. I might have to call an old buddy of mine. I just have a feeling in my gut."

That threw me off guard. When Jut got a feeling like this, more often than not, his gut feeling turned out to be something, from good to bad. It didn't matter, figured it was like a sixth sense, like how lucky I could be. I don't think we have super powers or some shit but it was something I couldn't explain myself.

"Does it have something to do with the rumors you were talking about?

"In a way. I told you the other day, Jebediah was planning something right? Well there have been a few thefts. four in fact. All of them gun stores. The strange part is that all of them were robbed on the same day all across the state of Nevada, and one robbery happened here in Vegas. I don't think it's a coincidence."

"That enough for me. He steals guns, and of course Jeb is going to use them in some was. So that leaves us with stopping him somehow and getting paid. Who's your buddy you want to call?"

I heard Justin spark up a cigarette, I did the same. That first puff of the morning was always a pleasant one. I loved it. What I would love even more, was a cup of joe. Coffee and cigarettes, the breakfast of champions. I jumped out of bed and walked my ass to the kitchen and turned on Mr.Coffee, Dark Helmet would be proud. I had already put the coffee int he maker, so all I had to do was press a button. In moments I'd have the nectar of the Gods at my fingertips. My Jurassic Park mug was ready. It was my favorite coffee mug, I owned a collection of them but this one was my baby. I put my cell on speaker so I could move around more freely to grab the stuff I needed while talking to Jut.

[green]"My friend works for the F.B.I. I havne't been able to get a hold of him lately but he texted me last night before I went to sleep, said for me to call him at three P.M. I'll see what he can tell me. I'm sure he caught onto the thefts as well. He's a smart man."

"He's a fed huh? Normally they are assholes aren't they? They don't like our types."

I've never met a fed that I could get along with. Always trying to tell us bounty hunters how to do our job, thinking they are hot shit, being cocky, all that jazz. They just annoyed the crap outta me. I tried to stay away from them as much as I could. One day I was going punch an F.B.I. agent in the face. It was only a matter of time and when that day happens, boy it's going to something else.

"This is true, yes but I've known this man for years. He's a good man, we don't have anything to worry about. Trust me."

Mr.Coffee made a beeping sound, telling me it was finished. I took the creamer out of the refrigerator before pouring myself a cup. I added creamer, mixed it up and took down the first sip. It was the spark I needed to become fully away. I felt damn good. After that night sleep and this coffee. I was feeling fantastic, more alive than I have been these past few weeks. My body and soul were alive again. It was about damn time too.

"Cool. Let me know what's up. For now, I'm going to sit down and have myself some breakfast. Wanna meet up at Kitty's Saloon later?"

"That's a good idea, I could use a drink later. How's six?"

"Six it is. Take care buddy." Jut said his goodbyes and we hung up, which was good because my belly was yelling at me to get something in it. I knew just want I needed. Some fluffy, milk-butter pancakes with eggs and bacon and not to far from my apartment, there was a diner who severed the best. No need to drive, I could walk there in ten minutes, no point in wasting gas when I could enjoy a walk. I was going to start off this morning strong. That was the plan anyways but plans tend to change suddenly. That's the adventure of life. You never know what you're gonna get. Forrest Gump is a smart man.

===========================
===========================
===========================

's zombie grandmother. If you're in my team's way. You're going to get stomped. What the fuck are you going to do about? Fuck you, there's nothing you can do.]]> <![CDATA[One Night Only]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37144 Sat, 30 May 2020 21:48:52 -0700 Carver's Sheath]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37144 trouble is in the air!

For one night only,

Shane

's ghostly spirit essence possesses The Crimson Dong

and speaks through him!

BEHOLD the Dongly one in all his glorious shit and toilet seat pillow!

There's just one problem... It seems like Dong is only capable of Dong talk even if somebody else is controlling his brain!?!?

Hey BLowMoe you fuckwad cum sucking pansyfied pedobeard nutflake you thinky you can fight the power of the dong but you fuck the flower of the dung muahahaha bitch I'm the Kimchi lock perfector doctor unlike the fleets of narcoticals you ingest to get by by! I am undefeated Alaskan Pipeline swallower! When ur down in that humbled humpino pluckery pop submits eon, you will tap tap tap tap tap baby I'm the scat pig that'll gonna be tap tap tap TAP TAP TAPPING PING PING PING TAPPING dat ass all over the ring.

Bitch I got the Diff. I got that c.diff so we dont even need the lube when you go raw dog on me hole. Don't fret lil LowBlow boy I'll supply the tarps and drop cloths ha ha ha but the gloves are off. War games comes a time or two a year but this one will be like no other as the protesting and rioting of the globe takes place right outside the White House where we will be perform! We will be performance the glory hold of destiny! No crowds of anger will hold my shit back if I need to clear out the lawn of 9000thousand prostates I will easily wax them the fuck off this Earth!

When my dead husk

's Sheath shows up to play he will be swinging chains and breaking brains. If I even can't control the nasty fuckin thing who the is? No! MLB or TNA don't matter to me when the puss is pushed in. Where's my next hit? Need dat puss. Dat puss.

Crimson Dong starts convulsing all over the room as shit flies out of his asshole in every direction as a result of that sweet, sweet Diff. Shane

's ghostly spirit essence is essentially unmercifully potato-gunned out of Crimson Dong flaming asshole and sent far across the galaxy...........

Meanwhile, not too far from the White House itself, we see the empty one-

's Sheath. He still has needles stuck all over his head and is sluggishly limping down the street, dragging a body by a thick chain that's wrapped around the bloody carcass' neck. There is a large shard of metal sticking out of the dead teenage girl's chest. Suddenly the sound of a siren blaring draws zero attention from

as the police pull up behind him and get out, aiming their weapons at the empty husk.

"Drop the chain and get both hands in the air now or we'll shoot!" - Clearly the police weren't playing tonight with all the chaos unfolding across the country. Just then the police are swarmed by a group of angry protesters as

's Sheath is able to disappear into the night, unchecked and unrestricted. Legend has it he would go on to easily slaughter countless victims throughout the night; some in their homes, some in their cars, some on the streets while everyone has their eyes on other distractions... yet no trace ever coming back to him. The only interaction

would have with the police that night would be when he appeared out of the shadows behind a total bitch officer - you know, one of those new female cops that has to try and act harder than Gilmour's dick? We've all seen them before, but it won't be the one

ripped the mother fucking jaw off of before stabbing the broken jaw bone into her eye sockets repeatedly. What's sick is the protesters witnessing this were cheering him on and supposedly even gave him a mask so he wouldn't be caught... but those same people have since went on to deny having any information on what happened, even though

stabbed one of them in the stomach and ripped his intestines out just before vanishing into the shadows again. Maybe nobody will miss that person. Perhaps for the sake of

's continued plaguing of the XWF, there must be a narrative somewhere that suggests none of this ever happened anyway.

And so the cycle shall continue... ]]> trouble is in the air!

For one night only,

Shane

's ghostly spirit essence possesses The Crimson Dong

and speaks through him!

BEHOLD the Dongly one in all his glorious shit and toilet seat pillow!

stabbed one of them in the stomach and ripped his intestines out just before vanishing into the shadows again. Maybe nobody will miss that person. Perhaps for the sake of

's continued plaguing of the XWF, there must be a narrative somewhere that suggests none of this ever happened anyway.

And so the cycle shall continue... ]]> <![CDATA[Ο πόλεμος μέσα]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37139 Sat, 30 May 2020 20:16:47 -0700 Shawn Warstein]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37139
“Where are you Osira?”

I paced around the battlefield. Peering over the bodies that lay at my feet. “I knew you couldn’t resist seeing what was going on in here….” I place my finger on my temple and tap it a few times. “Surprised by what you’re seeing?” I hear a slight rustling behind me. “Oh your tricks don’t work here anymore, well they never did….”

With a quick snap of my fingers the battlefield begins to disintegrate. Slowly columns begin to crumble into dust. The bodies that litter the ground disappear in small clouds of black smoke. The landscape has totally been changed, only a few boulders remain, as I slowly and methodically walk towards them. Three boulders, all evenly spaced. Each large enough for a person to hide behind.

“Eeny, meany, minne, moe….”

*Snap*

The first boulder vanishes into thin air, revealing nothing behind it.

“Well then…. if at first you don’t succeed.”

*Snap*

The second boulder much like the first vanishes. Again nothing or in this case no one is there.

“I never was good at three card monte…” A broken smile comes across my face. “But there’s only one left. Come on out O. Let’s not make this more difficult than it needs to be…” After waiting a moment and a deep growl later. “Stubborn… just like Atara.” Osira should’ve known something was amiss right then and there. Something had fundamentally changed. We hadn’t called her Atara in a long time. It was always ‘Dear, Sweetheart, Atty’ and anything else other than Atara.

*Snap*

The last boulder disappears, and before I knew it Osira lunges right at me with a blade in hand. The blade barely missed my throat. With a quick shove to the small of her back Osira falls face first to the ground.

“There you are.” Osira rolls over on to her back but her glare doesn’t leave my glowing red eyes. “Let’s have a chat shall we.”

*Snap*

Everything surrounding the two of us slowly fades away and manifests into an open field with nothing surrounding the two of us. Osira is lifted from the ground and placed onto a chair that has manifested itself under her. A few ropes begin to slither around her wrists and ankles. Binding so tightly that her hands quiver under the pressure and just as quickly fall limp. She doesn’t have a look of worry in her eyes, more of a sneer of defiance, and an anger worthy of her heritage.

“Where is she?!” A visceral growl as she yanks on the restraints. She begins to rock the chair back and forth. “If you hurt her….”

“Oh never that lil adelfi…she’s…home.” I smile and quickly snap my fingers, as the restraints fade away. Osira grabs her wrist and stands up. I raise my index finger to the sky and quickly whip it towards the ground. An unknown force pushes Osira back into the chair.

“Don’t believe me she’s at home? Let’s take a quick peek shall we?” I snap my fingers as I turn my back towards Osira.

*Snap*

I slowly open my eyes. The low humming of the ceiling fan above the bed where I’m laying, spins. The clattering of the drawstrings against one another is quickly drowned out by the sound of a door being flung open.

“SHAWN WAKE UP!!!”

Atara rushes up and grabs my body by the shoulders and begins to shake them side to side.

“SHE NEEDS YOUR HELP!”

Atara grabs a glass of water from the side table and throws it on my face.

“HE’S IN CONTROL! SHE NEEDS YOUR HELP!”

*Snap*

I shake my head and glance over my shoulder in the direction Osira, who herself is slowly opening her eyes.

“Ohh did big sis not run to your side?” I lick my lips and draw air deeply through my nose. “Would it make you feel better if she was at your side? Okay… I can make that happen.” The annoying, yet thunderous sound of my fingers snapping echoes.

*Snap*

Once again as I open my eyes Atara is still trying to awaken me from my comatose state. Slowly I struggle to breathe, as I strain to speak.

“Go….go… to… Osira….”

*Snap*

“Okay, you should feel her presence in a minute.” I slowly take a few steps towards Osira and squat down in front of her. “Why don’t you like him…” A puzzled expression falls over Osira’s face. “What did he ever do to you other than care for and be there for your sister? Huh? What did he do that was sooooooo egregious?” Osira doesn’t blink, staring daggers and a small snarl.

“I told you all I wanted was a chance to talk…. well for you to listen.” I clasp my hands together and lean forward. “Let’s get started shall we…”

*Snap*

Atara is hovering over the body of Osira, clasping her hand tightly and a look of dread covered her face.

“Hurry up Shawn…please hurry up…”

*Snap*

“Where to begin.” I let out a short sigh. “Well that damn carnival. Oh he holds that day in such high regard. He sees it as the day everything changed. That was the day he pushed me away.” A low growl emanates from my stomach, Osira still glares at me unmoving. “Let’s make this a little clearer for you then…”

*Snap*

A large plume of smoke fills in next to me, and slowly cascades to the ground. A man is tied to a chair head slumped over, and blood trickling from his nose, ears and mouth. I walk over to him and lift his head up by the chin.

“See Osira… He’s harmless.” Shawn struggles to open his mouth before I firmly grasp it shut. “Shhh…” I shove his head to the side and walk right up into Osira’s face.

“We haven’t been formally introduced…” I slowly back away from her and hold my hand out towards Shawn. “He...is why I’m here.”

“Just get to the point Shawn…” A snide comment if there ever was one.

“Don’t call me that….” I walk up to the chair and kick one of the legs out. The chair falls backwards, as Osira falls to the ground, but is quickly levitated back to a seated position. Shawn lifts his head slowly and finally opens his eyes. His eyes dart around searching, as a look of dread comes across his face.

“Moving forward. Ever since that day Shawn was so happy, so much in fact that he didn’t need ME anymore. So he, still being in charge, benched me.” I shrug. “Good for him right? Clearing out the demons. Finding something, or in this case someone to put him at ease. I would finally be able to rest. I was done.”

“Is there a point?”

“In due time lil sis.” A wide smirk comes across my face. “Then he did it. The one thing WE swore we would never do again…” I turn to Shawn and shake my head. “He said those three words.” I walk up behind Shawn and place my hands on his shoulder. “Only to be rebuffed. Cast aside. In the claims of someone gasping for straws. You want to know the sad truth there Osira?” I walked back around towards Osira.

“He meant it.” I stifled a laugh and tried to compose myself. I clear my throat before I continue. “Right? Oh when she didn’t say anything in return, it broke him. Then Noah told him he was leaving, and the circle continued. Poor little Shawn all alone on top of the mountain. Sure she stuck around…. Kinda.” I smile again and get in Osira’s face once more. “That’s just it with him. He’s always been a loaner. Everyone he put faith in pulled the rug out from underneath. The Black Order, he was the black sheep. The New Wave, never really trusted him. War Games last year, forced into an unwinnable situation. Noah, up and left. And then there was Atara. Still strong, still vigilant, still so distant. Unwilling to open herself fully like he did, and now….” A quick shrug and I’m back to a short distance from Osira.

“.....”

“Nothing? Seems out of character for you. So when you answered the door and let us in? Yeah have you wondered why or how I’m in control here?” I walk over to Shawn once again, patting him on the top of the head. “He knew you were there. He had already let me back behind the wheel. He knew you’d somehow get in here” Once again tapping my temple. “All so you and I could have this little chat.”

*Snap*

A look of worry comes over Atara’s face as the body of Osira begins to convulse.

*Snap*

“You’re not long for the mortal world there O.” I walk right up to Osira. “I was and always have been a man of my word. I told Shawn I wouldn’t hurt Atara and I won’t… but you on the other hand. Fair game.”

I raise my hand as Osira begins to levitate off of the ground. Swaying in the air back and forth. Feet lifelessly dangling. I reach into my pocket and pull out a small dagger. I run the backside of the blade across her cheek.

“I wonder how big sis is going to react?”

I rear back with the blade and thrust it forward. My hand fights with the blade. It doesn’t get any closer to Osira than several inches. Try as I may, the blade won’t get any closer. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I’m whipped around.

“I’ll take that.”

Shawn, risen from his debilitated state, had broken the restraints, and grabbed the blade from my hand.

“If you do it… you can’t go back.” I pleaded with Shawn. He smiled at me and showed the three orbs in the palm of his hand.

“I know.”

The blade pierced my chest as I fell to the ground, Osira did the same. I reach up towards Shawn, and grasp at his legs. He kicked me aside without a second thought. He stood over Osira, and bent down placing the three orbs in her hands. My vision slowly became like a tunnel, and before I was out the last thing he said was to Osira.

“I’m not the bad guy here…”

Fade To Black

[Image: quote-only-in-love-are-unity-and-duality...-15-30.jpg]

[Image: quote-only-in-love-are-unity-and-duality...-15-30.jpg]

The scene fades back in, and there’s Shawn sitting on a throne. The room is unchanged from the first time we have seen it. The only discernible difference is there is a second throne next to his. Currently empty, Shawn stands up and looks over a room of 25 people prepared for a battle in front of him, mumbling to themselves and causing a fever in the room. Four persons walk up behind Shawn as he raises his hands to quiet the crowd.

*Snap*

Two bodies behind Shawn fall lifelessly to the ground, as do a number of others standing in the room.

“There has been so much said about me, so let’s address some of the biggest offenders first shall we?”I pull out a packet of parchment from inside my Kings robe and uncurl them.“Peasant Myst said that I struck out with Atara? Right. Okay. See the only thing you need to concern yourself with is what are you going to do now that she’s gone? You’re going to rely on Felix? Well you do you, but before you go calling me out about being the best but not being the best, you might want to rethink that. Your boys couldn’t, and can’t hang with me, and don’t get me started about what I think of you. There’s not enough time in the world, I would need probably about 531 minutes. So next time my name comes out of your cum catcher , you need to rethink your methods, and go jump back on Chaos’ dick, because this CHAMPION is no longer interested in your opinion.”

“Who is next?” I flip through a few pages. “Okay Michael Graves and Thunder Knuckles… Irrelevant. Anything they could possibly say means nothing. Ohh this is interesting Tula. Well she didn’t seem to have a whole lot to say, other than trust issues, and would I do things differently.” I pause for a moment and begin to nod. “Nope. The fact that I ended up with Doug and D is irrelevant. Are you forgetting the fact that Theo basically drafted my team for me? You act as if I had a choice in what was happening. And as for trust. The both of them are like puppies. Shit in my house one too many times and you’re outside. They have yet to soil my floors, and I don’t think they will be doing that any time soon either. I look forward to seeing you in the White House.”

“Then there was Chris Chaos, who said, ’I don’t have much to say, I’m just going to show up and fuck shit up.’ Really? We will see about that.” Cue a massive eye roll. “The only thing you’ve fucked up is any of the good faith you’ve ever had in my book. I mean it’s only fitting that you are teamed up with Cent and Tula here. Not too long ago you were cowering from him, holding onto a title shot as if it was your first born child. Running and hiding. Only to fall victim to your own teammate when you had the opportunity. You think I have any concerns about you in this match? That what you did four years ago matters? You think that of the three of you you’re not at the bottom of my concerns? Please, you’re not dangerous at all… you’re just sad, and pathetic, I mean calling me a champion during a weak period? Okay. See unlike you when morons speak about me in that tone it doesn’t bother me. Like if it’s so weak, why aren’t you champion? I know what I am and who I am. People watch me because of what I do, not for my next big freak out, because let’s be honest no one is tuning into a Chris Chaos promo other than for the lulz. Get the fuck out of here you pathetic joke of a man.” I shuffle through the papers once more and then toss them aside to the ground.

“Then there was Centurion. A man much like myself. A person out of time, and I don’t mean the literally. You said that the odds have been stacked against me, and you’re right. I didn’t know what I was getting when it came to Doug and D, but the fact that the six of us are in this position tells me all I need to know.” I pause for a moment and let out a deep sigh. “I know that you and I have resorted to tactics that have worked in the past, and have yielded great results. And what do we get called? A villain. A snake. A coward for me, and all they can say about you is that you’re boring. If being all of that means we are in the Hall then guess what… Call me all of that. Wear that boring label like a badge of honor. It’s all jealousy. They hate us because they ain’t us. Yet I must admit something Cent, you are like a crushed light bulb, you’re all out of shine. War Games may be stacked against us, but we both know only one of us is capable of winning the whole thing. Unfortunately we both know it isn’t you.”

“And Cent that’s not a slight on you at all. Please believe me when I say that. Over the course of my long career, you’ve always been there in lock step. Attaining almost everything I have. That’s the difference between us. While you walk the line of fair and decent, I have no problem getting dirty. The main difference between us isn’t that you lack a killer instinct, it’s that mine is always on display and yours has to be pulled from you. The odds have never mattered to me at all, Theo stacking the deck? Don’t care. All eyes on me? What else is new. Shawn Warstein overcoming everything to stand y’all at the end of the show? Check the last three PPV’s… tell me if I’m lying.”

“Then there is the small feat of the match that follows mine. Caver and his batch, and Team Follow the Leader.” A quick shrug and half smile. “I’m not worried about

but I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that what happened on Savage was only the beginning. Then there was the trio of Rose, Page and Main… Sorry I mean Rose’s brother I guess. So they can make the rules up as they go, but I can’t? Okay, sure the blatant disrespect is cool and I can deal with that. Both of you are attached at the hip. I can’t help but laugh to myself. The two of you were at one point at the peak of this company, now the only thing that matters about the both of you and your promos is who else you’ve got featured with you. It’s as if you’ve become a chararichature of each other. The best parts of both of you are gone, and we are left with the husks of what is left. Neither of you can do anything on your own right? The best of Robert was with Apex. The best of Page was when he was running his own place. Now both of you have my scraps. My leftovers. And when War Games are over…” Once again a slight chuckle. “You’ll both be left with my sloppy seconds again.”

“Until Next Time”

*Snap*
]]>
“Where are you Osira?”

I paced around the battlefield. Peering over the bodies that lay at my feet. “I knew you couldn’t resist seeing what was going on in here….” I place my finger on my temple and tap it a few times. “Surprised by what you’re seeing?” I hear a slight rustling behind me. “Oh your tricks don’t work here anymore, well they never did….”

With a quick snap of my fingers the battlefield begins to disintegrate. Slowly columns begin to crumble into dust. The bodies that litter the ground disappear in small clouds of black smoke. The landscape has totally been changed, only a few boulders remain, as I slowly and methodically walk towards them. Three boulders, all evenly spaced. Each large enough for a person to hide behind.

“Eeny, meany, minne, moe….”

*Snap*

The first boulder vanishes into thin air, revealing nothing behind it.

“Well then…. if at first you don’t succeed.”

*Snap*

The second boulder much like the first vanishes. Again nothing or in this case no one is there.

“I never was good at three card monte…” A broken smile comes across my face. “But there’s only one left. Come on out O. Let’s not make this more difficult than it needs to be…” After waiting a moment and a deep growl later. “Stubborn… just like Atara.” Osira should’ve known something was amiss right then and there. Something had fundamentally changed. We hadn’t called her Atara in a long time. It was always ‘Dear, Sweetheart, Atty’ and anything else other than Atara.

*Snap*

The last boulder disappears, and before I knew it Osira lunges right at me with a blade in hand. The blade barely missed my throat. With a quick shove to the small of her back Osira falls face first to the ground.

“There you are.” Osira rolls over on to her back but her glare doesn’t leave my glowing red eyes. “Let’s have a chat shall we.”

*Snap*

Everything surrounding the two of us slowly fades away and manifests into an open field with nothing surrounding the two of us. Osira is lifted from the ground and placed onto a chair that has manifested itself under her. A few ropes begin to slither around her wrists and ankles. Binding so tightly that her hands quiver under the pressure and just as quickly fall limp. She doesn’t have a look of worry in her eyes, more of a sneer of defiance, and an anger worthy of her heritage.

“Where is she?!” A visceral growl as she yanks on the restraints. She begins to rock the chair back and forth. “If you hurt her….”

“Oh never that lil adelfi…she’s…home.” I smile and quickly snap my fingers, as the restraints fade away. Osira grabs her wrist and stands up. I raise my index finger to the sky and quickly whip it towards the ground. An unknown force pushes Osira back into the chair.

“Don’t believe me she’s at home? Let’s take a quick peek shall we?” I snap my fingers as I turn my back towards Osira.

*Snap*

I slowly open my eyes. The low humming of the ceiling fan above the bed where I’m laying, spins. The clattering of the drawstrings against one another is quickly drowned out by the sound of a door being flung open.

“SHAWN WAKE UP!!!”

Atara rushes up and grabs my body by the shoulders and begins to shake them side to side.

“SHE NEEDS YOUR HELP!”

Atara grabs a glass of water from the side table and throws it on my face.

“HE’S IN CONTROL! SHE NEEDS YOUR HELP!”

*Snap*

I shake my head and glance over my shoulder in the direction Osira, who herself is slowly opening her eyes.

“Ohh did big sis not run to your side?” I lick my lips and draw air deeply through my nose. “Would it make you feel better if she was at your side? Okay… I can make that happen.” The annoying, yet thunderous sound of my fingers snapping echoes.

*Snap*

Once again as I open my eyes Atara is still trying to awaken me from my comatose state. Slowly I struggle to breathe, as I strain to speak.

“Go….go… to… Osira….”

*Snap*

“Okay, you should feel her presence in a minute.” I slowly take a few steps towards Osira and squat down in front of her. “Why don’t you like him…” A puzzled expression falls over Osira’s face. “What did he ever do to you other than care for and be there for your sister? Huh? What did he do that was sooooooo egregious?” Osira doesn’t blink, staring daggers and a small snarl.

“I told you all I wanted was a chance to talk…. well for you to listen.” I clasp my hands together and lean forward. “Let’s get started shall we…”

*Snap*

Atara is hovering over the body of Osira, clasping her hand tightly and a look of dread covered her face.

“Hurry up Shawn…please hurry up…”

*Snap*

“Where to begin.” I let out a short sigh. “Well that damn carnival. Oh he holds that day in such high regard. He sees it as the day everything changed. That was the day he pushed me away.” A low growl emanates from my stomach, Osira still glares at me unmoving. “Let’s make this a little clearer for you then…”

*Snap*

A large plume of smoke fills in next to me, and slowly cascades to the ground. A man is tied to a chair head slumped over, and blood trickling from his nose, ears and mouth. I walk over to him and lift his head up by the chin.

“See Osira… He’s harmless.” Shawn struggles to open his mouth before I firmly grasp it shut. “Shhh…” I shove his head to the side and walk right up into Osira’s face.

“We haven’t been formally introduced…” I slowly back away from her and hold my hand out towards Shawn. “He...is why I’m here.”

“Just get to the point Shawn…” A snide comment if there ever was one.

“Don’t call me that….” I walk up to the chair and kick one of the legs out. The chair falls backwards, as Osira falls to the ground, but is quickly levitated back to a seated position. Shawn lifts his head slowly and finally opens his eyes. His eyes dart around searching, as a look of dread comes across his face.

“Moving forward. Ever since that day Shawn was so happy, so much in fact that he didn’t need ME anymore. So he, still being in charge, benched me.” I shrug. “Good for him right? Clearing out the demons. Finding something, or in this case someone to put him at ease. I would finally be able to rest. I was done.”

“Is there a point?”

“In due time lil sis.” A wide smirk comes across my face. “Then he did it. The one thing WE swore we would never do again…” I turn to Shawn and shake my head. “He said those three words.” I walk up behind Shawn and place my hands on his shoulder. “Only to be rebuffed. Cast aside. In the claims of someone gasping for straws. You want to know the sad truth there Osira?” I walked back around towards Osira.

“He meant it.” I stifled a laugh and tried to compose myself. I clear my throat before I continue. “Right? Oh when she didn’t say anything in return, it broke him. Then Noah told him he was leaving, and the circle continued. Poor little Shawn all alone on top of the mountain. Sure she stuck around…. Kinda.” I smile again and get in Osira’s face once more. “That’s just it with him. He’s always been a loaner. Everyone he put faith in pulled the rug out from underneath. The Black Order, he was the black sheep. The New Wave, never really trusted him. War Games last year, forced into an unwinnable situation. Noah, up and left. And then there was Atara. Still strong, still vigilant, still so distant. Unwilling to open herself fully like he did, and now….” A quick shrug and I’m back to a short distance from Osira.

“.....”

“Nothing? Seems out of character for you. So when you answered the door and let us in? Yeah have you wondered why or how I’m in control here?” I walk over to Shawn once again, patting him on the top of the head. “He knew you were there. He had already let me back behind the wheel. He knew you’d somehow get in here” Once again tapping my temple. “All so you and I could have this little chat.”

*Snap*

A look of worry comes over Atara’s face as the body of Osira begins to convulse.

*Snap*

“You’re not long for the mortal world there O.” I walk right up to Osira. “I was and always have been a man of my word. I told Shawn I wouldn’t hurt Atara and I won’t… but you on the other hand. Fair game.”

I raise my hand as Osira begins to levitate off of the ground. Swaying in the air back and forth. Feet lifelessly dangling. I reach into my pocket and pull out a small dagger. I run the backside of the blade across her cheek.

“I wonder how big sis is going to react?”

I rear back with the blade and thrust it forward. My hand fights with the blade. It doesn’t get any closer to Osira than several inches. Try as I may, the blade won’t get any closer. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I’m whipped around.

“I’ll take that.”

Shawn, risen from his debilitated state, had broken the restraints, and grabbed the blade from my hand.

“If you do it… you can’t go back.” I pleaded with Shawn. He smiled at me and showed the three orbs in the palm of his hand.

“I know.”

The blade pierced my chest as I fell to the ground, Osira did the same. I reach up towards Shawn, and grasp at his legs. He kicked me aside without a second thought. He stood over Osira, and bent down placing the three orbs in her hands. My vision slowly became like a tunnel, and before I was out the last thing he said was to Osira.

“I’m not the bad guy here…”

Fade To Black

[Image: quote-only-in-love-are-unity-and-duality...-15-30.jpg]

The channel lands on QVC, where a well dressed, female, presenter is preparing to introduce the next product.

[Image: 0cHyCW3.jpg]

"Well, that'll certainly be a hot item come Christmas time!" she speaks about the previous, unknown thing before walking over to a white table with something else on it. "Speaking of hot items, our next product will surely blow your minds, but don't take MY word for it............."

All of a sudden, Big D comes smashing through the back wall like the Kool-Aid man, scaring the hell out of the host.

"Jesus Christ!" she whispers, grasping her chest. "I thought you were gonna enter from the side, like everyone else!"

"Sorry, Julia, here on Q-V-D we believe in the element of surprise!" Big D explains as his eyes bulge out of his head with intensity. "That's the type of *censor* Centurion and the rest of 'em will have to watch out for Sunday night!"

Julia tries her best to get things back on track, straightening her outfit and taking a step forward. "Well, it certainly got me!" she exclaims before turning her attention back towards the product. "Big D, could you tell us what we have here?"

"Why certainly!" D responds, overselling his enthusiasm as he turns towards the camera, addressing the audience at home. "Do you like big D's in your mouth?................."

Julia covers her mouth in horror at the potential double meaning behind D's words, but he doesn't seem to notice.

"What about your wife, or children?" Big D continues without battin' an eye. "I'm sure grandma could use a nice, big D every now and then!"

The QVC host face palms, leaving her head buried in her hands. She begins to contemplate where she'll be working after the FCC fires her thanks to Big D's antics. As if things already couldn't get any worse, D's next comment just adds salt to the wound.

"Hell, I'm sure Julia here needs a couple big D's in her mouth after a long day of work............."

The host drops her hands, her jaw dropping with them, as she looks at Big D in disgust. "Excuse me?!"

Being in that zone D tends to get in sometimes, he completely blows off Julia and continues with his sales pitch, as he finally unveils his product. "Well, now you can enjoy big D's anytime you want thanks to the Big D Waffle Iron from Oster!"

[Image: IAJxvoh.jpg]

At this point, Julia wants to kill Big D, afterall, this isn't the first run-in she's had with him. Julia is a very active feminist, and just so happened to be in the parking lot with some of her lesbian friends that time PETA and the LGBTQ destroyed his car. Though she wasn't gay herself(other than those nine times in college), Julia felt it was important to protest a man who'd beat up a woman AND an owl WITH CONSENT. It was for that reason she didn't want him on her show, but she had no other choice. After all of her success in the world of QVC, there was no way she could go back to sucking dick to pay the bills!

"Is your waffle iron older than Centurion? Does it burn out faster than Robbie Bourbon in a Title match?" Big D spouts on, oblivious to the fact his co-host hates him. "Well, then, try my new Big D Waffle Iron and you too can be a World Champion, just like my War Games Captain!"

Big D walks away from the waffle iron, to another table. On it rests a plate with some pre-made waffles on it, one of which D grabs and shows the camera.

[Image: cPkUz8a.png]

"That's a big D, if I do say so myself," he says with a blatant smile, revealing he's been fully aware of what he's been saying the entire time. "You can add whatever you want to 'em........" Big D takes a step to the side, revealing a small table with a variety of toppings on it. "Syrup, butter, whipped creeeeeeeam!"

Big D's creepy Bill Cosby impression on the word 'cream' sends chills down Julia's spine.

"We've even got some Hawaiian stuff for Tula!"

Julia looks pleased that D was actually being sensitive and providing for a woman, despite her being an enemy of his. Those feelings get instantly slashed as Big D reaches in a container and slaps a handful of ham and pineapple onto the plate of waffles. His antics have gotten so ridiculous, even the producers behind the camera can be heard gasping in shock.

Big D glances from them to Julia, each person looking more mortified than the previous one. "What???" he asks, confused by their offence. "Is that not what they put on pizza?!"

Julia tries her best to fix a bad situation. "Why don't we take a few phone calls?" she suggests, pointing to yet another table near Big D. This one has a rather large phone board on it, with a bunch of blinking red lights.

"I just press any button?" D asks, walking over to the table.

"Yes" Julia replies with a nod. "All those blinking lights are callers."

Well, let's see what they have to say!" Big D bursts out with excitement as he presses a random button. "Hello, caller, you're on the air!"

"Hi, is this Big D?" a nerdy voice asks.

"Yes it is," D replies with a smirk. "Are you enjoying your new waffle maker?"

"No," the caller responds with a laugh. "I just wanted to say GO TEAM CENTURION!!!!"

An irritated Big D cuts the guy off, leaving the mere sound of a dial tone. After taking a moment to compose himself, D puts the next person on.

"Quit being a p*censor*y and fight me!" the familiar voice of Michael Graves demands.

Big D, once again, hangs up and addresses the camera. "Fun fact about our last caller........... he likes little girls!"

As the producers groan, Julia throws her notes into the air and walks off the set, but this doesn't bother D as much as the first two callers. Determined to find someone who bought his product, he goes through multiple callers, hanging up on each one for various reasons.

"Chris Chaos rules!"
*CLICK*
"Big D's a homo!"
*CLICK*
"Being partner's with the Universal Champion is the closest to the belt you'll ever get!"
*CLICK* *CLICK* *CLICK* *CLICK* *CLIIIIIIIIICK*

A pissed off Big D rapidly presses the button over and over, fuming over the fact he hasn't had ONE serious caller. "I swear to God, if this person didn't buy a waffle iron, I'm gonna lose my mind!" he proclaims, ripping at his hair like a slightly fitter Chris Farley, before putting the next person on. "PLEASE tell me you're the proud owner of a brand new Big D Waffle Iron!"

"I most certainly am!" an excited voice on the other end boasts.

Big D's eyes brighten at the prospect of an ACTUAL sale. "Sir, are you tellin' me you like big Ds in your mouth?

"No!" the man gleefully responds. "But it's perfect for my useless junk collection!"

The caller's words hit Big D like a truck, as he blankly stares into the camera. "Your what?"

"My useless junk collection!" the man explains. You can almost hear the joy in his voice as he tears D down. "It'll go great with my Mastermind shirt and signed red-X action figure!"

A vein throbs in Big D's forehead as he slowly lowers his hand and presses the button to hang up, keeping his finger on it as his face turns red.

*CLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICK*

He stares at the phone board for a second, watching the blinking lights flash. They were all probably just like the others, pranksters awaiting their turn to talk shit to someone they'd NEVER dare to in person. It was at that moment Big D realized how stupid selling a waffle iron was, ESPECIALLY one in the shape of a single letter. In repeat fashion of his fiasco last year at Thanksgiving, Big D begins to tear up the stage in a fit of rage. The first thing to go was the phone board, as he yanked it off the table from which is was perched on and broke it in half over his knee, picturing every member of Team Centurion as he did so(including the two that bailed). His attention then turned to the waffle maker, a reminder of his failed marketing attempt. Big D punched it like he was Mike Tyson, giving it a few small jabs before one last cold, hard right that sent it flying off camera. One for Chaos & Tula, with the final knockout blow saved for Centurion.

After about a minute of recreating his time in a Smash Room, Big D finally calms down. As he gasps for breath(not a good sign for War Games), D looks into the camera and leaves the, likely shocked, people at home with one last message; a suggestion for their Thunder Knuckles stimulus check..............

"Coming up next, we have the XwF Universal Championship..............."

“Like Fuck he’s selling my title!!” I grab my cell phone and quickly dial the number. All I hear on the other end is a busy signal. “Great… I wonder what fuck head is going to come out of the woodwork for this.”

I lean back on the couch and begin flipping through the stations. Then the classic theme music is heard.

“Fuck Yeah! Haven’t seen this show in a minute.

The shot opens to a portly police officer in his late 40's behind the wheel of his cruiser.

[color=#98FB98]"We had a report of a Burger King manager being assaulted the other night. Security footage showed an unidentified black male to be the perpetrator. We don't have any real leads on him, but earlier in the night a member of the local homeless population was captured in their security footage too. Name's Doug, he keeps his head down and we haven't had too many issues with him so we're gonna swing on over and see if he happened to see anything that might help."

The car comes to a halt down a side road next to a dumpster; from underneath a pile of tattered blankets, Doug pokes his head up to investigate the the blinding headlights.

"Doug, my friend. How we doing tonight?"

"Officer Kilpatrick, you know me...just living the dream." He says with a groan.

"I hear ya buddy. Say, the other night you stopped in a Burger King over on 86th. Happen to notice anyone, or anything, out of place?"

"I uh...I don't really remember, I was just passing through looking for a freebie." He nervously spits out his words.

The officer furls his brow. "You don't sound too sure there, Doug. Don't worry, I'm just trying to do some homework here. Say, what's that there next to you?"

Doug's heart skips a beat as he glances over and notices the black card laying next to him.

"Doug, Doug, Doug. Say it ain't so. You boosting credit cards now?" The officer grasps his radio. "Dispatch this is Adam-28, possible 488 at the corner of 76th and Broad, requesting backup."

"10-4, sending a unit to assist." The radio chirps back.

"Come on Kilpatrick, I didn't steal anything. I just found it in the trash. It probably doesn't even work."

"Yeah that's what they all say. Why don't you hand that over to me?"

Before Doug can protest another squad car arrives. Out step two younger officers in their early 30's, grinning from ear-to-ear.

"C'mon Killy, you can't handle a ****ing bum by yourself?" The driver says with a laugh before noticing the camera aimed at him, he uses a cough to readjust his demeanor. "What do we have?"

"Our friend Doug here was just going to hand over his stolen property." He replies with a snarl. "Hand it over Doug."

"Whatever, man. I don't even want the damn thing." He reaches for the card to hand it over. As soon as his fingers make contact with it, however, Doug disappears and is instantaneously replaced by the black behemoth from the security footage.

"Whoa."

"He's huge!"

"He's black!"

The officers turn toward one another as their disbelief slowly fades into a look of pure joy. Like giddy teenage girls they all shout in unison:

"He's resisting!"

"Ah **** here we go." The large man can barely get out his sentence as he's met with with strikes from boots and closed fists.

The strikes last for minutes, each officer striking with as much force as they can muster. One-by-one, each officer slows as they struggle to catch their breath. Exhausted and breathless, the officers look down curiously at the motionless man.

"Think we overdid it?"

The youngest looking of the three officers looks directly into the camera "He had a gun. If this makes it to any news outlet I swear to God---"

Laughter cuts him off. His chest still heaving heavily, the stunned officer turns back to the body on the ground. The large man has a smirk on his face as he dusts himself off.

"Y'all weaker than Chris Chaos' Y-chromosome." He says with a laugh while he gets to his feet. The police officers stare in awe as the man doesn't appear to have a scratch on him.

"Uh--who?" A confused Kilpatrick mutters while eyeing the unscathed man.

"A f***ing simp for some p***y he's already gotten. N****s promos need to be brought to Chris Hansen's attention, they got a real 'panel-van-with-free-puppies-written-on-the-side' vibe to 'em. N***a wants to know what a child tastes like? Put a n***a like that in the pen and they'll braid his hair and eat Skittles out his bootyhole."

"Wait, are you talking about that wrestler?" The youngest officer asks.

"Wrestler? I ain't talking about no g****n wrestler. I'm talking about the XWF's very own Sisyphus. Once upon a time he tricked the entire roster into thinking he wasn't just a run-of-the-mill, dime-a-dozen chump with less substance than that white shit that drips out of Centurion every time he hears himself speak. And now he's paying for it. Forever doomed to push that boulder up the mountain, he's never going to reach the top. It's gotta hurt to show up week-in and week-out, peddling his mediocre b******t in hopes that someone, somewhere is going to buy it again. You gotta question the mental stability of someone so painfully unaware of their shortcomings. He's a lemming heading straight for a cliff, you almost gotta respect him for his commitment to being completely unremarkable."

"Enough!" Kilpatrick shouts with a renewed vigor. "I'm tired of listening to this b******t!" He lunges at the man as the other officers join suit, managing to wrestle him to the ground. Kilpatrick places his knee on the back of the man's neck as he begins to struggle for air.

"Hey! I can't... It's all going dark..."

"Can't breathe?" The cocky Kilpatrick asks him.

"Nah n***a, I was just remembering how f*****g boring Chaos' partner Tula is. Almost put me to sleep." He exhales deeply, loosening the officer's grip with no problem.

"That b***h wants to play the unlikely hero like she's Rudy or something, but she forgot something important: To root for the underdog, you have to have a reason to. You think anybody is going to be sitting in front of their televisions and cheering for Tula? B****h got less charisma than Ben Stein, I'd rather watch a snail race than have to suffer through another one of those after-school special style promos of her. It's like she doesn't know the entire point of it is to draw attention to her match, not to give people a window they can pinpoint to take a s**t break. Calling her boring is the single most basic thing that I could do, but f**k, the shoe couldn't fit any better. Imagine being a former Army ranger and MMA fighter, two of the most exciting possible professions, only to emerge from the other side as so bland and uninteresting that a single sentence uttered would be an effective melatonin replacement."

The large man shrugs the police off and fakes a lunge toward the two younger ones, causing them to jump and collide heads, knocking each other out cold.

"Hey look, a couple of p*****s! Friends of Centurion's? Seen a lot of s**t in my day but never have I seen someone so filled with fear. Notice how he drafted Chaos simply because he had 'champion' on his resume? He knows he's not talented, he knows he doesn't want to work with him, but he knows he's entirely incapable of carrying a team to victory by himself. Main?

? Warstein? They can grab any group of bums through the fire and make it through to the other side. But Centurion? He sold his soul live on camera because he knew that any team he drafted wouldn't have the luxury of having an ace, someone that could carry the team when it needed. He knows damn well he never had a chance of winning in the first place, not against the top dogs in the company. He's saving face, trying not to be completely embarrassed once War Games rolls around. Themis and Carnes don't belong as captains, and to see Centurion as anything different than them is f*****g foolish. Centurion reminds me of pet piranha. Sure, the reputation sounds vicious but when you get the little f****r in the tank you realize that he's nothing more than a cowardly little scavenger, surviving off harmless feeder fish while coyly avoiding any real danger."

With that, the man turns to walk away. Kilpatrick attempts to chase him down but stumbles and slams his head on the concrete, knocking him out cold.

"Here, you can have the body back." The man says as he places the black card in his pocket, causing Doug to reappear instantly. He looks around the alley at the prone police offers and then directly into the camera.

"What happened?" Doug can be heard saying as the screen goes dark.

The officers involved in the beating were cleared of all allegations of excessive force.

The unidentified black male is wanted for three counts of aggravated assault on a police officer and is considered to be armed and dangerous.

“That’s fucked up.” I check my phone and see that the time is getting late. I flip the TV off and stretch. “Time for bed I guess.”

Before long I’m in the bedroom, and lay down next to Atara.

“Why are you sweating?” Atara groggily said, rolling onto her side.

“I was watching COPS.” I jokingly said as I pulled the covers over myself.

“I can’t tell if you're serious or not.”

“Totally serious.”

“Just go sleep.” An arm came swinging and hit me on the shoulder. I rubbed my arm and rolled over tucking my arm under my head.

“I was planning on it, why else would I be in here?” I couldn’t see it, but the eye roll from Atara definitely happened. It was painfully obvious that I wasn’t falling asleep anytime soon, so I reached for the remote and just as quickly the TV was illuminating the room. ‘Ancient Greece and The Trials of Achilles’ is the show of choice for my slumber.

The sun crested over the horizon, as I slowly opened my eyes. A quick breath and I was surprised by an arm being flung over my chest. Atara nuzzled deep in the crevice and pulled herself in closer.

“Morning.” A quick grumble from her was the only response.

“Coffee.”

“Sure.” I gently remove her arm, and slide out of the bed. Wait a minute…

*Snap*

A coffee cup filled to the top appears on the table. Atara sits up in the bed as I hand it over to her. After one sip, she looks up towards me brushing her hair off of her face with her free hand.

“I understand that you can get Osira and I out of here, but what are you going to do about yourself?”Atara sets the coffee cup to the side and stands up and stretches. “The orb is a one way trip, but doesn’t that just lock you in here?”

“Kinda. It’s complicated.” We both sit down on the edge of the bed. “I’ll wake up at some point, and just be a walking husk. I’ll know everything that happened in here, but I’ll still be me out there. We both know what’s coming down the pipeline, and the road doesn’t end up anywhere nice for the both of us.”

“What are you saying?” I grab her hand and smile.

“What I’m saying is we don’t need to act like we both don’t see the end, and what’s at the end for you is clearly not the same ending point that I see, I know what needs to happen here next.” A quick breath as I let go of her hand, stand up, and begin walking towards the door.“We need to focus on getting you and your sister out of here. Come on we’ve got to find her.” Atara shakes her head as she stands up.

“No. I want to know what you’re talking about. What end?” Atara grabs me by the shoulder and spins my body to face hers. “What end point?”

“Listen. I know what is going on in here, I have to live with it daily. You’ve been in here maybe a few hours. I’m not going to put myself out there time and time again just to be spurned.” As I turn to walk away Atara grabs me by the shoulder once again. “I’m done talking about it, let’s go.” Atara doesn’t say a word. There’s no way of knowing what is going on in her head. She begrudgingly follows me through the corridors, not a word spoken between the two of us, just leaving me to my own thoughts.

And that was that. Everything led up to this point. Clearly the two of us are at a fork in the road. I mean why else would she not show up for War Games? Was losing to James that big of a deal? Tons of people have it’s not the end of the world. The only reason I can think of is me. I drove her away and there’s nothing I can do to bring her back. All I can do now is focus all of my attention on War Games and surviving.

Chaos is what this match is all about, and I thrive in it. No, not that Chaos. Actual chaos. You know the stuff that can actually do some harm to an individual. Bodies will be flying all over the place, surely the first person to fall will be Chris Chaos. The only person to somehow overhyped themselves. The person who thinks his demons are anything like what I’ve lived with. The main difference between my title run and basically everyone else’s… when I became champion people left out of fear. They aren’t coming back thinking well if he can do it, then why can’t I. No, they left knowing that they cannot do the things I do. They don’t have the stomach or the balls to do everything in their power to keep this title around their waist.

Centurion knows what it’s like to have pitiful opponents after weak challengers thrown his way, fuck man the toughest competition he’s faced was by Robbie, and he bounced on your team quicker than Vanessa did on the doughnuts in catering. This has been a tougher call to arms than I expected. I know that both Cent and I could throw each other under the bus, but we’ve held back to a point. I wasn’t joking, Centurion, the shot is yours. All you’ve got to do is take your shot.

Tula, I see nothing but big things in your future. I just wish you came here earlier in life. The career expectancy in this business isn’t very long. There’s Life in the NFL and then Professional Wrestler. You’ve capped yourself, you’ve set your own glass ceiling. Time is of the essence for you, and War Games is going to knock a few extra grains of sand from your timer.

So where does that leave my team? The group of ‘flunkies”? Well I said it on draft day. I don’t have a care in the world. Despite what everyone has said about those two, they showed up. There is no dissention between the three of us. We all have the same goal in mind. We all want to win. Regardless of the odds and obstacles thrown at us, we are ready. We aren’t bothered by the mountain in front of us. From where we are standing…. You’re all chasing us.

Atara and I walk out into a large courtyard. There are soldiers in their armor. Some are sharpening their blades, while others spar off with one another. We both scan the area looking for Osira. We spot her near the large gate. She is sitting all alone tapping her foot, and as we approach she stands up and greets her sister, while barely acknowledging myself.

“Finally. I see you found the leech.” Osira said with a fair bit of venom as she glared through me.

“Yeah. We’ve got everything we need to go home. Show her Shawn.” A chill goes down my spine as I pull out the yellow orb and show it to Osira. “All we need to do is use this and we are home free.” Atara forces a smile in my direction, as Osira just rolls her eyes.

“Well then leech, let’s get this over with. I don’t want this to turn into something we can’t undo.”

With a quick nod I hold out the orb. Osira grabs Atara’s hand. I place the orb into Atara’s hand, and just as she was about to grab my hand…

BOOM

BOOM

BOOM

The gate and walls begin to crumble, as I shove Osira out of the way of a large chunk of wall falling towards her, I jump on top of Atara to shield her from the falling debris.

All three of us get to our feet, and just as we do Achilles and his men are flooding in, swinging on anything that moves. Osira and Achilles lock eyes, as he rushes towards her. He pulls his blade backwards and thrusts it towards her.

In the blink of an eye, Atara shoves her little sister out of the way, and takes the full brunt of the blade to her shoulder. She screams out in pain while Achilles slowly pulls the blade out.

“All that to protect her?” Achilles walks towards Osira, as she begins to run. He laughs as he menacingly stalks her.

Osira ducks behind a wooden crate, only for Achilles to destroy it in a single swipe. She then slides behind a large boulder as he swings sparks fly off in all directions. I quickly slide next to Atara and place my hand over her wound keeping pressure on it. She looks up at me as I lean in and place my forehead on hers.

“Do you trust me?” I asked in a low guttural growl.

“...” She didn’t say anything.

“Please Atara...Do you trust me?” Once again, this time with a bit more desperation in my voice.

“Always.” Atara labored to say.

“Good.”

I handed her the orb, and closed her hands around it. I kissed her hands as we locked eyes. I know what she saw, I could feel it happen. The look on her face said everything. Before she vanished in a cloud of black smoke, the last thing she saw was, my eyes.

Glowing Red.

I slowly stood up from where Atara was and cracked my neck.

“It’s good to be home…” Osira and Achilles are playing a game of cat and mouse. “ENOUGH!” I yelled across the courtyard as I slowly walked towards the both of them.

*Snap*

Achilles and everyone fighting freeze in place. Noticing something was amiss, Osira peers from around the boulder. She sees the same thing Atara saw. I slowly tilt my head towards Osira.

*Snap*

Suddenly all the soldiers begin to drop to the ground gasping for air and eventually succumbing, with Achilles being the last one right in front of Osira.

“We need to talk.” I said in a cold raspy voice.

Osira doesn’t think twice and bolts towards the field on the other side of the gate. I shake my head in bemusement and slowly stalk her. We are in a desolate battlefield with bodies strewn about.

****Static****]]> “Okay Shawn, I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up too late. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.” Atara gets up from the couch leaving me there flipping through the tv channels.

“No. All these channels and not a single fucking thing worth watching.” Frustrated I grab my drink from the table and take a large swig. I grab the bottle of bourbon next to it and pour myself another. Just then something catches my eye.

“You’ve got to be kidding me? QVC is still a thing?” I turn the volume up on the TV and lean forward. “I wonder what garbage they’re selling these days..”

The channel lands on QVC, where a well dressed, female, presenter is preparing to introduce the next product.

[Image: 0cHyCW3.jpg]

****Static****]]> <![CDATA[From one War Zone to a Volatile War Zone]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37132 Sat, 30 May 2020 18:51:12 -0700 Mastermind]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37132 VILLA OF HANARI CARNES
PRINCE GEORGE'S COUNTY
WASHINGTON D.C.
MARYLAND
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

We had made it to the States. After my run-in with Michael Graves, where I hit him with Kris The Hammer Von Bonn's hammer, after listening to him talk too much.

We were met on the private airstrip and then taken to one of Harari's private Villa's. Michael Graves was taken away somewhere and we were shown to our Private Quarters.

We were getting ready for the XWF's next Pay Per View, War Games, where we will be competing in the White House itself.

Yet I was standing watching a pretty worrying site. Watching the continuous coverage of the rioting that was going on across America all because of what happened to George Floyd who as we all know now, was killed because a White Cop used his knee to keep the pressure on his throat and effective snuff him out.

Of course, scenes like that would provoke outrage. It was always going to.

It's like we are now in the middle of a war and we are going to take part in a pay per view that focuses on War Games.

And inside the bloody White House whose occupant doesn't know what the hell he is doing. He doesn't know how to deal with Covid-19 and doesn't know how to handle violent protests.

"It's not my fault it's always someone else's fault."

I say to Trump. Look towards how New Zealand handled the COVID 19 situations.
We have almost stamped out the virus.
We have had 6 straight days of no cases.
We have over just 1500 cases.
We spent 5 weeks in full lockdown
Another 4 weeks in semi lockdown
And we are spending at least another month in partial lockdown but more with freedoms.

All because of one person. Our Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern.

And Trump doesn't have a fucken clue on how to deal with Covid-19. Almost 2 million cases. The World has seen 6 million.

Anyway enough with that rant.

I was thinking of all that as Antony The Jerk walked up behind me.

ANTONY: "A penny for your thoughts."

I shook my head.

"Look at what is happening out there Antony. Bloody bedlam. For a country like the States, it's putting race relations back years if not decades, I mean we still have issues like this in New Zealand but not quite as bad."

ANTONY: "I think we just need you to focus on the up coming War Game PPV, it's a war within a war."

"Oh I'm focused Antony. I'm really focused."

ANTONY: "In what way are you focused?"

"I know we can win our match and make it to the Main Event, and even win that."

ANTONY: "Is that right? That's a hell of a comment. I know your opponents have changed in 7 days. Wanna tell me how you think that'll it happen?"

"Team Themis is no longer Team Themis any longer. The bitch dropped her balls as she did with the X-treme Title. And now it's called Team Mismash. It's like Bangers and Mash. All jumped up in one place. All thrown together thinking they have what it takes to compete against us and they don't."

I pointed the remote at the television, and it changed from the protesters to a profile of Ms Direction.

"Take this bitch for instance. Ms Direction. We who know who this is, but yet she wants to play games and let everyone think it's someone else. It's obvious it's Vita Valenteen."

ANTONY: "Are you sure it's obvious?"

I nodded. Then changed it to a different profile.

[Image: 04b86d8b21727f4db76e6df05b79106a.jpg?dat...1588582911]

"The current x-treme champion. Felix Jones. I knew it was too much for Atara to turn up and captain someone who took her belt from her. Felix thinks he has what it takes to be able to keep the belt. I wouldn't be surprised if it was me who takes the belt off of him next. I would be glad to."

ANTONY: "Then you'll have a target on your back for the rest of War Games, do you really want that?"

"Of course I can then show everyone including Felix how it is done by keeping the title."

I then changed from Felix to another profile.

"The so called Queen Bee of the XWF. Only Sarah Lacklan can have that title after what she was able to do last year. Jenny just wants to play copy cats. But she can't and would never be in the same league as Sarah."

ANTONY: "That's a bit harsh with Sarah no longer here. You use to hate her style of competing."

"I still do. But she was impressive. Jenny is not impressive in my eyes."

I changed to another profile.

"The so called bad man with a gun and a massive ego in the XWF. Michael 'I'm so unforgettable' McBride. Because he's fucking truly unforgettable. He won't be around long. So we don't have to worry about him."

"But maybe you should think about him just a little bit?"

I shook my head. No thank you. I changed to a different profile. But this profile was blurry.

"The so called Wizard, who called me out, but after I responded to him, he said nothing since. Just a waste of space if I ever knew a waste of space.

"So that's Team Mismatch. Perfectly mismatched and ripe for the plucking which Team Carnes will be able to do. We now have to look ahead to who our Main Event opponents have to be. I choose Team Centurion to beat Team Warstein. 3 on 3. Lucky fuckers."

"Centurion will have an easy job taking care of the Universal Champion who has a nothing team who can't even provide back up for him. Centurion can and will be stopped by Team Carnes. His luck will run out."

ANTONY: "That's a surprising thing to say when you've never beaten him,"

"I don't need to beat him per se. Team Carnes, together will beat him."

I changed to another profile.

"I know nothing about Tula Keali'i, and I want to keep it that way. She's nothing. Team Carnes can easily defeat her as well,"

I quickly changed profiles.

"This fuckwit is a law until himself. He's got too many Plans to deal with things, that he ain't sure whether he's Arthur or flaming Martha. Chris has too much going on inside his own mind to be even considered a threat. Team Carnes will take him out."

ANTONY: "Who do you think you guys will deal with in the Main Event? Team Main or Team

?"

"That's too easy. Team Main of course."

ANTONY: "Care to explain?"

The profiles of Robert The Omega Main and Chronic Chris Page came up on the television.

[Image: 3FVmsKZ.gif?dateline=1587720883]

[Image: Chris_Jericho_in_April_2016.jpg]

"These two egomaniacs are the current Tag Team Champions and they are teammates for War Games. But deep down they despise one another. And that's to our advantage. They have to trust one another. But can they really? Their fucking egos will just get in the way. Team Carnes will and can take these two out."

I changed to another profile.

"Thunder Knuckles is a complete joke. A complete waste of time and space."

ANTONY: "And yet he's the Television Champion. The same championship you still covet to this day."

"While that is true, I know I can take him out all by myself, and I will prove it. He can't pay his way out of this situation."

I changed to the last two profiles.

"Knock knock,"

ANTONY: "Who's there?"

"RussianRose and LowMo,"

ANTONY: "RussianRose and LowMo who?"

I smirked.

"Exactly. Who are these two worthless motherfuckers? They are nobodies, and they may be gone even before the Main Event, but if somehow Main and Page carries them both to the Main Event, Team Carnes and in particular myself will easily take these fuckwits out. And then we will focus on taking out Main and Page and Centurion and his woble merry men of no one cares.

"At the end of the day Antony, you know who will stand tall at the end of War Games?"

ANTONY: "Who?"

"Team Carnes and in particular me, myself and I..... Mastermind,,,, And I'll just leave it there and let people chew on my words,"

I turned and headed for the door. Antony watched me walk away.]]> VILLA OF HANARI CARNES
PRINCE GEORGE'S COUNTY
WASHINGTON D.C.
MARYLAND
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

We had made it to the States. After my run-in with Michael Graves, where I hit him with Kris The Hammer Von Bonn's hammer, after listening to him talk too much.

We were met on the private airstrip and then taken to one of Harari's private Villa's. Michael Graves was taken away somewhere and we were shown to our Private Quarters.

We were getting ready for the XWF's next Pay Per View, War Games, where we will be competing in the White House itself.

Yet I was standing watching a pretty worrying site. Watching the continuous coverage of the rioting that was going on across America all because of what happened to George Floyd who as we all know now, was killed because a White Cop used his knee to keep the pressure on his throat and effective snuff him out.

Of course, scenes like that would provoke outrage. It was always going to.

It's like we are now in the middle of a war and we are going to take part in a pay per view that focuses on War Games.

And inside the bloody White House whose occupant doesn't know what the hell he is doing. He doesn't know how to deal with Covid-19 and doesn't know how to handle violent protests.

"It's not my fault it's always someone else's fault."

I say to Trump. Look towards how New Zealand handled the COVID 19 situations.
We have almost stamped out the virus.
We have had 6 straight days of no cases.
We have over just 1500 cases.
We spent 5 weeks in full lockdown
Another 4 weeks in semi lockdown
And we are spending at least another month in partial lockdown but more with freedoms.

All because of one person. Our Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern.

And Trump doesn't have a fucken clue on how to deal with Covid-19. Almost 2 million cases. The World has seen 6 million.

Anyway enough with that rant.

I was thinking of all that as Antony The Jerk walked up behind me.

ANTONY: "A penny for your thoughts."

I shook my head.

"Look at what is happening out there Antony. Bloody bedlam. For a country like the States, it's putting race relations back years if not decades, I mean we still have issues like this in New Zealand but not quite as bad."

ANTONY: "I think we just need you to focus on the up coming War Game PPV, it's a war within a war."

"Oh I'm focused Antony. I'm really focused."

ANTONY: "In what way are you focused?"

"I know we can win our match and make it to the Main Event, and even win that."

ANTONY: "Is that right? That's a hell of a comment. I know your opponents have changed in 7 days. Wanna tell me how you think that'll it happen?"

"Team Themis is no longer Team Themis any longer. The bitch dropped her balls as she did with the X-treme Title. And now it's called Team Mismash. It's like Bangers and Mash. All jumped up in one place. All thrown together thinking they have what it takes to compete against us and they don't."

I pointed the remote at the television, and it changed from the protesters to a profile of Ms Direction.

"I know nothing about Tula Keali'i, and I want to keep it that way. She's nothing. Team Carnes can easily defeat her as well,"

I quickly changed profiles.

?"

"That's too easy. Team Main of course."

ANTONY: "Care to explain?"

The profiles of Robert The Omega Main and Chronic Chris Page came up on the television.

"Alexei ready?"

"He about to come in now. Dude's got his shirt off and everything, he's amped to ten...So, how are we doing this?"

Robert grins as his smartphone begins vibrating.

" The old school way Chris... We all cut a promo... Unlike everyone else.

Centurion finally became entertaining! The same guy, just to watch him bitch and moan about not being treated fairly by management.

Thunder Knuckles in the worst Centurion impersonation ever says,

“My team is at a disadvantage.”

Then in the same bad Centurion voice, this time whiney and nasally says,

“Is this even legal.”

Grow up, shit stain, It was at a disadvantage the moment you were named team captain. Draft better dick wad. While we're on the topic of a team who’s not even going to make it to the Main Event. Tula “Buttermilk tits” Kealiʻi! Did I get the name right, toots? Do you feel like you can beat Thunder Knuckles for the Television Title? You can bring your boring ass after the next Savage. I believe I have a title defense on the first show back already. So, wait in line, I’ll be with you shortly. Maybe, I go back over and give the mountain that casts its shadow down on you. A run for his money again then choose which Championship to keep. I said it before and I’ll say it again the only chance, Centurion had was when he drafted Robbie Bourbon. Unfortunately for him, Robbie Bourbon, realized he had to carry Centurion and said the load was too hard. Robbie took his ball and went home. Because FUCK Centurion. Centurion, you then went and drafted Chris Chaos. Two times...one time...Champ- Noone gives a fuck, Chaos. What have you done since? Lose to Shawn at War Games before Shawn loses to us, ME! Suck a dick. I'm glad you took up for Taco Carne Asada, very loyal of you. As you say FUCK Centurion and start Team Choas. That you can be knocked for.

Now let’s talk about the winners, soon to be losers.

BigD. Wow. I’ve been kicking your ass since I got here, haven’t I? Think about it. Debut. Fucking boat. Fucking splash. There goes BigD. First match. Ever. Goddamn… Sorry, Jesus… If that wasn’t enough in the promos leading up to my second match ever. I told Madison Dyson aka Grandma Lemon Tits beating her would be as easy as taking all your xbux. Now she wasn’t that easy because the lord above knows. I've pretty much-taken everything you had… THEN paid you a stimulus check for crying about being screwed once. BigD wins the television title after buying it from me. Good. Boosts sales. Every title shot ‘Ol Thunder Knuckles ever sold has granted the buyer the belt. So what did I do? I beat the man who beat BigD THEN has held because I still do, the title longer than BigD. Now, that's fucking funny. Look at me, BigD, I'm a fucking winner, you're not.

Doug Whit-whatever, I said you can cut a promo. Not untrue. It’s been a little while since I fought some good ‘Ol fashion shock salad. That’s all you are while looking like a yester-year pedophile. You and Micheal Graves should team-up. Fuck! Join B.O.B.

Now we can get off the subject of teams who are fucked from the jump.

Team Ms.Direction! First, I'd like to say, I smite thee foul heathen! In the name of the Lord! Jesus Christ! You are pure evil! Sent to this company by Satan, himself!

Jenny Myst claims to not know who the television champion is. This is supposed to be the person with their finger on the pulse of this generation? She sees herself as a legitimate threat but doesn’t know who the television champion is. Get the fuck outta here, Jenny, you dumb bitch. Go run your little interview segment on my show. While I defend my Championship. By the way, third grade wasn’t hard Jenny. Well, not as hard as my cock when I slap you in that dirty little whore mouth of yours. It was funny when you talked shit on Main and Page’s look. I mean, come on, right? Then you went a step too far... When you said you're not scared. Bitch, you're terrified. Terrified your actually going to advance and back up those fucking claims

Felix Jones for someone with luck on your side. It sure looks like it's run out my friend. Better luck next time? I think you're THE threat this team has to offer.

Micheal McBride, still such a stupid last name. You should change it. Seriously. I'm glad you're excited to be here! I'm excited too! I'm excited that scabs like you still exist! Knowing your fate you still showed up for your first promo. You're a fucking sweetie pie, aren't you? Well, make no mistake pal. I'm going to gut you for Christ!

The Wizard if there is one thing I know for sure is that the Wizard will take out MasterMind. Why? No one wants to put their hand on MasterMind more than the Wiz. Too bad the Wiz kid doesn’t have what it takes against Team Robert Main’s level of high octane brutality.

It’s a damn shame that you guys are going to lose to the following team.

Team Taco Carne Asada! Taco Carne Asada chose not to talk about ‘Ol Thunder Knuckles in his last promo because… Well, he's an idiot. His one chance to show leadership by pointing his team in the right direction. Nope. Now MasterMind has to think for himself. I wonder which retail store he’ll be working at next? Who knows? It’s anyone's guess!

Micheal Graves, I'm going to save you for another day... I'm no fool.

Boris, Congrats! You’ve been selected to be a replacement! Now just watch out for that banana peel. You know what? You’re going to slip on it eventually. It might as well be now.

Red-X, Congrats! You’ve been selected to be a fucking replacement! I’m as shocked as you are. You lost to a car! That’s about the saddest thing I’ve ever seen. Honestly.

Am I done with this team… Fuck… Chasm’s boy. Liam Roberts. Please for the love of all that's holy. Shut the fuck up.

Notice a team that isn’t going to advance got more of my time, Taco Carne Asada? It’s because it's going to be a war. Not many of your teammates walk away from your first match.

For prosperity's sake, I’m going to address Team

quickly. They're already done. I’m just gonna dig that spear a little farther into the rib cage like the Romans did to my boy, Jesus Christ.

Peter Fucking Gilmour, you’re a legend, a story of the past, not the present. I’m the present and the future.

The Pimped Gun is a C minus fighter with a D minus in courage. Which isn’t going to serve him well.

Tommy Gun, tell me how it is to be the punch line to this joke when it’s over, okay?

The Husk of Shane

. I’m not big on this whole boogie man thing. You’re as scary as kittens on Christmas, pal. If Shane Carvers, not the Husk, was in charge of this team. It would be in better shape and would have stood a chance. I can’t wait to slap around this bunch of fucking insubordinate and churlish fucks. If they would have just acted like a team. What happens to them come War Games would have been far less brutal. Now they have to deal with the consequences. I gotta go, Bartholomew, is about to give a sermon on how Jesus calms the storm. He said I’ll need the lesson for after bathing the roster in their own blood at War Games. Main I'll see you fuckers soon...

" What in the blue hell just happened?"

" TK just phoned in a freaking promo... That's classic."

"Who was that?"

"Your old pal TK... He just phoned in a promo..."

"So, we kill him afterrr pay-per-view?"

"After this is all said and done you can do whatever you'd like Alexei..."

" It was quite a contrast from last year in my motherland. I remember watching Main defeat his buddy Page live and in person. Now a year has passed and in less than twenty-four hours I will be competing in my first pro wrestling match. But it is more than just a wrestling match. This is a street fight with the potential to escalate into a full out brawl. That is the type of fight that I am accustomed to, that is the type of situation that I relish. My brother and I are two different men but we were both born and bred to not just fight but to win. He was like an eagle who got his wings clipped before he ever got to fly.

The same blood runs through our veins and I plan to dedicate our WarGames win to him. Because it has been all but officially determined but Team Cataclysm will leave WarGames victorious. We have the skill, speed and strength to win this and then you add me into the mix and it's a guarantee. I may not have the experience or the knowledge but I am the toughest mother fucker in the XWF. I owe it all to where I came from and where I grew up. You see for kids like my brother and I are we already had the odds stacked against us from the day we were born.

But we made it out of there stronger than ever. Now can men like Peter Gilmour say that? Growing up in the 'mean streets' of LA. No wonder he is so soft, he probably grew up playing with barbie's and auditioning for American Idol type talent shows. Face it, Gilmour, you aren't cut out for this sport and you never were. You see Team Cataclysm has LowMo as their weakest link and the whole world knows it but Team

has three or four weak links. I'll be surprised if they all show up on Sunday. Because each one of them knows Team Cataclysm means businesses. They know that when we meet in that White House that we are not taking any prisoners. So, Shane

, I'm sorry but your team was done since the day it was announced that you would face Robert Main's team.

Now, either Team Mishmash or Team Carnes will face off against us in the main event. In my opinion, they are both trash. Team Mismash will be full of disfunction. The only real credibility they have is the two minute X-treme Champion, Felix Jones. He is the only one that has the balls to step up to me. If he does I will beat his scrawny ass from wall to wall. I will give him the beating his father never gave him but definitely should've gave him. As for Jenny Myst and Ms. Direction... They have no place in this Man's world. So I won't even acknowledge the fact that they are even a part of this match.

Now Team Carnes has a poor foundation to start with. You see the team Captain is shit so naturally, the team, in general, will be shit. It's not that I don't like Carnes it's that I fucking hate him. I can't stand his voice, I can't stand his look. There is nothing about the man that I like. It will be my pleasure to hand him one of the most cold-blooded assaults that he will ever receive. As for his last round pick Liam Robert's... I would love to meet him in the main event also but I just don't see that talentless loser making it that far. But Liam it would be great to beat your ass. After all, you do deserve it for having such a big mouth. Like I said before I can't see you making it that far, some people have it and others do not. You fall into the do, not category, Mr. Robert's.

Moving onto the other match to determine the last Main Event spot. Team Centurion vs. Team Fuzz... a three on three match. Chaos, Tula, and Centurion against Big D, Whitford and Fuzz. I don't care who wins this one because Tem Cataclysm will win it all no matter what. But they both seem like intriguing opponents. Centurion who is someone who has been called old and boring but boring or not, that makes no difference to me. All I care about is kicking his ass and spitting on his Championship. He means nothing to me, just another fake king atop his fake throne. But at least he had some sense in drafting Tula. She seems to know what she's talking about especially when she called RussianRose the steal of the draft.

Fuzz, his time is over and my time is right fucking now. He has less than twenty-four hours before he becomes Cataclysm's sacrificial lamb. Whoever he brings with him, he will be leading them not to war but to their slaughter. I can't wait to be there to see it with my own eyes."

” The things I’ve heard this week flow from the mouths of the less fortunate brought a smile to my face as you further established my point when saying you’re all a bunch of broken fucking records that have to regurgitate the things someone else has said and failed with.” Chris starts to slowly pace back and forth in front of Team Cataclysm with his hands resting behind his back as he continues. ” It seems that perhaps it’s time to show every one of you exactly just who the hell I am for no other reason than you need some reminding.” Chris stops pacing where he faces the camera. ” For the guy that you’ve labeled as a has-been or washed up why don’t you take a look at more recent history over the last twelve months because I was the blasting cap this federation needed in a time when things where at a low.” There’s a brief pause from Chris before he continues.

” James Raven knew who to call and ask for a favor, so excuse the fuck out of me if one of your XWF darlings didn’t reach out to ANY of you and instead made that call to me for no other reason than he KNEW I would deliver. Or let’s talk about how the highest ratings in the modern era came when I was feuding with the very man I now hold Tag Team gold with today, Robert Main.” Chris starts to shake his head from right to left as he states. ” Until “they” took it away from us because we shattered their glass ceiling.” Chris chuckles under his breath before continuing. ” Or let’s talk about how both Robert and I have been approached to challenge for the Universal Title, which we’ve declined for the sheer fact that the Universal Title division DESERVES to fail because had Theo and Vinnie not changed the course you’d be living in a different XWF and not the same old garbage wrestling that your deluded minds are comfortable with calling the status quo.”

[green]” What has everyone else leaving skid marks in their underwear and gives them that nervous feeling in the pit of their stomachs is knowing that in just about twenty-four hours the mouths shut and the fight begins and they’re not going to be able to back their fucking play while I will continue to do what I fucking do damn near every time I have a match….” Chris shifts to a softer tone as he states. ” Steal the show.” With sheer sarcasm he spouts out. ” So what does that say about every one of you knowing you spout out nonsense about being overrated when if you could hold my jock it would have been you getting monthly notorieties and not me.”

“I don’t have to do anything other than state the truth because the truth outweighs anything any of you can say and unlike most of you I’m still man enough to back my fucking play, but don’t you worry boys and girls if you don’t take me at my word on that then might I suggest you take a good long look at what I am personally going to do to anyone that fucking dares to cross my path. I am on a mission that I will see to its conclusion good, bad or indifferent and while I won’t be stupid enough to say I’m going to win it all what I will say is that I’ll be seeing some of you in the Main Event and we’re going to see if you're capable of walking away on your own accord. This is going to be the most unique and barbaric sets of War Games matches that none of us can rightfully prepare for, so stop fooling yourselves.”

” To navigate your way to success in a scenario like this is to have some smarts inside your head, and with all due respect some of you still think Robert is the brains behind this after we’ve plainly stated, I dunno, like one thousand times that I brought Robert to the dark side, so smarts aren’t most of your cup of tea. I say all of that to finally say this… I can give two shits about who you think you are or what “spot” you think you deserve because I stand before you challenging you to try me one for size just one time and the last thing you’ll be spouting out is that I’m a washed-up has been when your body is being carried out of the White House on a fucking stretcher.” There’s another brief pause from Chris before he continues. ” We’ve out talked you all over the last two weeks and the only thing that’s left is out performing you all on the grounds of the White House. How does it feel knowing that you all dedicating so much time to Robert and I it negates every point you’ve tried to make? How does it feel to know that when it looked as if Thunder Knuckles was going to fuck us he actually fucked every one of you that clamored for a screw job because none of you is man or women enough to put the screws to us yourself? Or how does it feel to know that even if he had stuck the knife in our backs it wouldn’t change the end result that either Robert, myself or both of us collective are going to find a way to survive.”

“You should feel pretty shitty but I’m sure you’re all going to find a way to cry about it later, right Cent?”

“Speaking of Centurion, I have one simple question for you since you seem to think that Shawn versus Cent screams box office attraction, how would you sell that knowing Shawn put you down in the Captain’s match? Yeah, bro, I didn’t think you could either.”

“The time for talking has officially come to an end for me and now all that’s left is action. So all of you do yourselves a favor and go ahead and come to terms with the fact that losing to Chris Page doesn’t mean you suck… it just means you’re like everyone else.”

" I'm going to touch on our hero Champion first... Fuzz I've slaughtered you so many times this doesn't need a sequel, but here we are it’s kind of feels like I’m kicking a corpse at this point. War-games I’ve always shown I’m a different breed of person, this match has always been my element, the past victories and skeletons are evidence of just that. On this night "The Omega" has and always will be untouchable... What I am is a person who isn’t intimidated by one ounce of scrutiny, unlike you Shawn I’m not dying for exposure, this naysayer shit is so underwhelming and over the years I have become conditioned for all the persecution. Blowing up my Twitter Fuzz just makes me bigger. Just a mere mention of my name triggers you. I’m not sure how many times now Page and I have relayed this message but for whatever reason, you keep missing the point. You are out of your league wearing that Universal Championship. You keep trying to judge your engine by your paint job. Wargames you're looking to continue a legacy? Shawn, if we cross paths I'm going to make you night a living hell. If I were you or any other competitor in this match, I'd start begging for mercy right fucking now. Wave the white flag... The only issue, this team has no compassion. After this night Champ, you will no longer be able to face yourself or your fans... The only thing that will be left is for you to run away in shame. Page, has told me numerous times I should dumb it down because I’m too conscious for you Champ. This is career suicide, a self-assassination if you do make it to the finals, you'll have to do more than shoot at me with a red rifle BB. I’d put your seat belt on CHUMP because it’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

Robert clears his mind for a few moments when the thought of that snake in the grass Centurion begins to creep in… Robert squints his eyes as images of their past endeavors flash through his mind… There is almost a smile when Robert remembers the truth. Cent was always there like a shadow until you needed him the most. His ready smile was only for those who gave freely and didn't require any help in return. In the past, Robert welcomed Cent with open arms and would have given his life for the man.

” Ya know Centurion, sleeping on my team is a stupendous mistake. But when it comes to career blunders you’ve always put in a Herculean effort. Hell, when it comes to misadventure you, my old friend are a trendsetter. You of all people should know not to fire a single shot at me unless you want to get cremated. Cent, do you believe for a split second that you are going to get that “L” Raven and I gave you back through a loophole? The envy of that match we had over a year ago keeps you awake at night, doesn’t it? Once again, the Universal Title slipped through those feeble hands… It was all on the line that night, the Tag Titles and the Universal Championship… What a night…”

Just like a bad penny Centurion always show up when he needed something. Like a career resurgence for example… Robert shook his head.

” You brought The Engineer to the party and I brought James Raven… You came armed to the teeth sure, but like always I was one step ahead and I brought an army with me… In the end, I may have been screwed… But knowing I kept you from gaining your first Universal Championship win… That’s priceless… That’s worth its weight in gold… I told you going into that captains match that you were standing in my fucking lane. You could have easily stepped aside while tucking that tail up into that vagina you carry around. But you had to be defiant, didn’t you? You needed to be relevant, you had to step back into the limelight you lost a decade ago. I cannot help that you chose the ladder and now you want to complain about holding a live hand grenade. You were the one who painted yourself into a corner...”

” Now we move into Wargames and here you are hitting us with all this Barbara Walters shit you and your team is coming at us like the set of 60 minutes. It’s quite humorous honestly man, you want to tell the world how I went to extraordinary lengths to make sure Shawn didn’t make it to the final two…?” Robert pauses for a second. ” Duh mother fucker this is war, this is about cementing a legacy, this is about winning and losing moron. I cannot help the fact that you and Shawn are play checkers and I’m busy playing three-dimensional chess. Of fucking course, I did what I had too to pin your knight in shining armor to the canvas… I would have done the same to you if you were still in the match... I want to walk out with my third War-games victory and remain undefeated.” Robert holds up three fingers. ” I want to give the men on my team who each busted their asses something that will move their careers forward… That’s the entire fucking purpose of this thing called Wargames fuck-wad. To establish dominance, something you’ve never seen I might add… Tell me why in the hell you are trying to shake -n- bake with me and everyone else watching at home?

Are you searching for brownie points or something here? You want to go as far as blaming management? What a damn hypocrite. SOMEONE GET CENT A COTEX!” Robert chuckles. ” What’s next Centurion, are you going to blame management for the Robbie Bourbon pick? I've never heard a man who believes he is the next Universal Champion cry as you have... Take a fucking Midol and shut up... Someone get Dick Powers to insert his sperm worm into Cent's mouth so we have some quite... We have all watched as you sobbed into any camera that had a red light on... If you were as boundless as you believe you are then being disadvantaged would have never come up... Centurion what you are looking for is a way out... You need an excuse to say I told you so... You want to talk disadvantaged? Dude, you've been handicapped your entire fucking career, this should be nothing new at this point.

Then you have the nerve to say I’m paying Theo Pryce off for your shit choices? Bro, news flash Theo and I despise one another… I’ve been calling him out for weeks now… Pay attention to the bouncing ball… My God Man wake up… No matter the order of eliminations you and Fuzz would have been locked in against one another for a simple fact… You sitting in your rocking chair old man, I’m asking because I’d hate to startle you with the news… Do me a favor and turn off Magnum P.I. and turn up those hearing aids up so you can hear this.” Robert places his hands to his ears turning up his imaginary hearing aids smirking. ” You and Fuzz are managements next big thing, there next colossal money maker… Well… At least that’s their hope… Two shriveled up pricks fighting with walkers… It’s going to be the biggest fucking debacle since Robbie Bourbon won the Universal Championship or when Jim Caedus came back and went real-life nuts… The real kicker is how you said I let people down?

Damn man that one cut deep… Tell me who exactly I’ve let down? Did I let you down when I carried your crippled ass over the finish line at Wargames last year…? Didn’t you get eliminated…? Yeah, ya did… In normal Centurion fashion, you folded like a cheap suit. I know where I let you down… It’s when Raven and I blew the doors off you and the Engineer isn’t it? You of all people should not be talking about letdowns brother… When the chips are down you can’t be counted on… I hope that your team has faith in you because from what I’ve seen up close… Robert pinches his nose shut. ” Garbage! You’ve got your draftees fooled into thinking that you are a true leader when you couldn’t lead a one-man parade. You may have the wool pulled over their eyes Cent, but you can’t dupe me… I’ve been in the trenches with you and when its time to pull the trigger you seem to have this terrible habit of misfiring. You’ll under-perform for them in the first round just like you did last year when you flat-lined for me. Just do me a solid, if you are still thirsty after Shawn’s team cuts your throats get your own canteen.”

Robert looking over his shoulder at his team before motioning them forward. Page stands to the right as Alexei stands to the left.

" In the main event, when it comes time to get down to business, I'm going to take the last several months of frustration out on whoever is standing across from this team... Each of you has a plan going into this thing, having a plan is essential, but like all things in life never work out accordingly... Once the first shot is fired everything goes out the window... Most of you I'm not going to respond too because well let's be honest our paths just won't cross... Or will they ever... I get why we are despised, your promos get no views, our names pop up anyplace its an instant click. That right there is why I am different, why we are different, we don't need clout, while the rest of you deadbeats are desperate to make a living off our names... It pisses all of you off knowing you're going into a fight there is no chance in hell of winning. Most of us on this team make more in a single day than any of you do with an entire paycheck... Like a general, I will lead my team to victory and there isn't a damn thing anyone can do to stop us.

This one is for you Cent!

#youlose!"

]]>

]]> <![CDATA[What's That Sound?]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37135 Sat, 30 May 2020 18:30:35 -0700 Centurion]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37135

CONTINUED FROM "There's War on The Streets": http://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37118 and the ending of "Facing My Demons": http://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37122

"The lady’s right"

(Tula and Centurion quickly turn their heads towards the sound of the mysterious voice. A figure walks through the woods, but is barely seen – only a black silhouette and the sound of crunching leaves and sticks gives away the position of the person. After a few seconds though, the figure comes closer, until they step into the clearing. It’s Chris Chaos, the man they have been waiting for.)

"You shouldn’t have come here."

Chris steps out of the bushes. Tula gasps, and Centurion, although not afraid of this man, does brace himself for the unpredictability he has become known for.

"Relax. I'm not here to hurt ya. Your health benefits me. I've had the deck stacked against me one too many times in this place to have to go into War Games alone. Believe it or not, I'm not THAT arrogant."

Both of them do indeed relax a bit.

"Then why should we not have come here? Why the ominous, creepy horror movie killer lurking in the bushes voice then?"

"Well, because you just never know exactly WHO was in those bushes. Your leaving yourself out in the open, exposed. There are far too many snakes in the grass around this place, and every one of them would love to take their pound of flesh before this little shindig gets underway."

Chris sits down next to them, his feet moving loose dirt and debris around.

"How's your arm feeling?"

"I'll live."

"Tough girl."

"You have no idea."

Chris picked his head up.

"You're new here, but I can tell you can handle yourself when shit hits the fan. And trust me, it will. Kind of the M.O. of this place. Not gonna lie, you've got a strong mentor. Centurion is All-State, you're in good hands."

"I know. But what we are both wondering about is what you bring to the table. Your mind state, your mental health and progress."

Chris smiles a weird grin, tilting his head to the side. He stares at her for a moment before his creepy grin turns into an outright smile. He looks at Centurion.

"Progress is an interesting word, Cent. Progress is what everything on this planet revolves around. Progress keeps everything moving. XWF is the polar opposite of progress. I don't know if it's management, the lack of recruiting or viable talent, or the fact that the same three names wedge themselves into the fabric of the proverbial XWF couch and don't let go. Centurion, if I can be frank for a moment, you're one of the best wrestlers I have been in the ring with. No offense, but you're kind of a senior citizen around here. You've seen every nook and cranny of XWF, do you think we've progressed?"

"Would you love to go back? Do you want to return to the days of Shane

having you wrestle in shit? I know it was your glory days, but I also know it still haunts you - the names and the matches. We're a wrestling company again. And there will come a time when folks like Shawn and I will be laid out, and we won't be able to stand up. But progress isn't swapping out names. Progress is making sure the very best EARN their opportunities. And that's happening now far more than it ever had."

"How diplomatic of you. Truly", he takes Centurions clove from his hands, taking a puff himself and handing it back. Cent waves it off, and Chaos brings it back to his mouth, puffing again. "Crazy, I don't even smoke."

Centurion takes a fresh one out of his pack and lights it.

"Our talent now is as weak as its ever been. We have 'big names' on this roster that would rather sit around and watch the action than stick their big toe into it. I think you of all people know who I am referring to. We have champions who took advantage of briefcases, and then are spoon fed filler talent to pad their stats. Having one solid champion rule the roost is good for the stability of the company, right? Well, what if that champion would get beaten handedly by the other half of the roster he never gets to see? It's chaos theory at its finest."

Taking a puff of his Clove, Centurion tilts an eyebrow.

"Excuse me....but....chaos theory?"

“You don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.” Chris sings the lyrics to the Bob Dylan song, snapping his fingers to the tune in his head.

Centurion and Tula look at each other, confused, then back at him.

"Yet if you do have enough wind velocity information, combined with an array of readings from barometers, thermometers, and such, you might ask a weatherman, particularly a trained meteorologist with access to state-of-the-art computers and software, to make a sound forecast......"

They look back at each other again, still confused and wondering why they invited this lunatic out here into the desolate nothingness in the first place.

"We often plan our outdoor activities these days with the help of newscasts, websites, apps, and voice assistants that provide reasonable forecasts hours or days in advance. It is rather amazing that meteorology can perform such a feat. On the other hand, if we happen to rely on a sunny forecast to schedule a picnic, and it rains instead, we don’t condemn the entire field of meteorology, or dismiss it as useless guessing. We recognize that it is an imperfect science. We recognize that it can only give us probabilities of a particular outcome, not a definitive prediction for what must come to pass. While compared to decades ago, forecasts are so much better, but they’re far from flawless. And even with advances in technology, the theory of deterministic chaos shows that they’ll never be perfect."

Cent puffs out a long drag on his Clove as Tula cocks and eyebrow.

"So, again, what the fuck exactly are you talking about?"

Chaos shifts in his seat, crushing out his clove and blowing a smoke ring in the air. He smiles as it dissipates.

"Everyone and their mother has Main and Page as a shoe in to win this thing. You me and The Rock's daughter over there are all but written off. The deck is stacked, the odds are against us. We are 2 bodies down in an event solely based on competent bodies and survival. There is a forecast that has been made long in advance. The picnic is planned, the food is pre-prepared, the confetti cannons are already stocked to the brim........."

He turns toward the two of them.....

Looking at Tula, he smiles again.

"Why do YOU feel, you of all people, that we have a snowball's chance in hell to win this thing?"

"I wouldn't bet on us. But I've been in worse fights than this."

"EXACTLY. It's an imperfect science. WE are that storm that nobody sees coming. WE are that rain that puts a damper on their parade. Nobody expects us to do diddly squat, hell, we don't even believe it.....

Centurion shrugs.

"If we won this thing, nobody would bat an eye. They wouldn't disparage the entire proclivity of the event....they'd chalk it up as a wrong guess, an imperfect prediction.......because nothing in this life, in this world, is perfect. Everything is chaos."

He stands up, flipping out his blade. Cent stands up, bracing himself. Tula scrambles into a fighting stance.

"Theo and Vinnie, they are the trained meteorologists. They already have the trophy with the names etched in. You're nothing to them but a name. If you left tomorrow, they'd thank you with a firm handshake and a head nod. But life would go on. If Main or Page, or even Warstein, left tomorrow, they'd be soaking their designer suits trying to find a suitable replacement. Pun intended."

Chris presses the blade firmly on his palm again, dragging it across the flesh. More blood, and he squeezed his hand shut.

"Have you ever heard of decaf?"

"You are content with being a rain shower, maybe even a thunderstorm. I am saying lets be the entire goddamn hurricane. Let's blow them off their posts, ruin the establish oligarchy, and lets be the most cohesive and vicious storm this place has ever experienced."

He brings the blade to the outside of his hand. The blood drops down and onto the leafy surface below.

Centurion stands up.

"I'm tired of the disrespect I've been getting around here, and I know you are, too. Hell, you're own girlfriend is dogging you. This is THE opportunity we all need. I want respect. Tula wants her shot. And you want to recover your career. This is our moment."

"See you Sunday......"

A trail of blood follows him into the dark abyss, as branches snap and leaves rustle in his wake. Centurion and Tula look at each other again, mouths agape.

"You mentioned earlier how people earn things around here? What have we truly earned? What have you truly earned. Theo clearly doesn't respect you, other wrestlers here seem to think you're on your way out. I am new at this, I know this is potentially make or break for me. A big performance here can vault me up the ranks to the realm of elite, or close to it. What does a big performance here truly do for you? You have the best win loss record in this company. They need you a hell of a lot more than you need them."

Centurion's lip curls into a snarl.

"I don't need to earn a goddamn thing. I have spent well over a decade earning, now its time to start reaping the benefits of that hard work. Maybe that lunatic is right...maybe I need to break the established order........I am Centurion, damnit, and they need to learn to put a little respect on my name!"

He bends down, picking up a leaf, stained with blood.

"They want a storm? They haven't even seen the clouds yet."

------There's Something Happening Here------

This has been the longest week in the history of the world.

That may be hyperbole, but it does feel true, doesn't it? Since the death of George Floyd at the hands of police brutality, the entire world, in the midst of a global pandemic, has been turned upside down. It is hard to truly put into words the emotions of the moment. It feels like the world is just...different. And scary.

Wrestling feels so insignificant right now. There's a generation of people on the streets, fighting for justice and peace, and here we are, a bunch of greased up assholes looking to fight each other for the fuck of it, just continuing to line the pockets of greedy capitalists and macho assholes who want to play John Wayne on the backs of those struggling to survive.

I look at everyone wrestling at War Games, and I don't see a single leader. Sure, I see captains, but I don't see a leader. A leader would have spent time showing his team what's happening in the real world. A leader would have put this whole thing into perspective, and reminded us that, yes, this maybe be important, but it's not nearly important as compared to what is going on out there.

I have a massive respect for Centurion. He started as my father's friend, but he's become a mentor to me. He's taught me a lot. But even he is guilty of this. I understand - there is a lot of pressure to come up big in this match, especially for someone with Centurion's legacy. But whether he wins or loses, he still gets to pack his bags and go home. He gets to continue on with his career, and fight his next battles.

George Floyd can't fight another battle. Neither can Treyvon Martin, or Sandra Bland, or Breonna Taylor. And neither can Hana Kamura, who had her life cut short at the age of 22, all because of horrific cyber bullying. Their stories are over. There is no redemption arc for them.

So when I hear people in this match talk about how "important" this all is, I roll my eyes. None of you are fighting for your lives here. None of you are truly risking anything by being in this match. What would Robert Main and Chris Page lose if they don't win this match? Their tag titles? No, those aren't on the line. Their pride? If they even have any.

What is Shawn Warstein risking? He could be eliminated immediately, and his life does not change. In fact, he could win the whole thing, and his life STILL does not change. That doesn't make this important. Not at all. It makes this a nice weekend activity. Like shooting hoops with your buddies. Sure, you may want to win, but your life remains exactly the same if you don't.

I am a person of color living in a racist world, but even I know how privileged I am. I had a father who supported me through thick and thin. I had a full scholarship to college. I was able to move to the continental US without a dollar in my pocket and still manage to find work and survive. I am blessed to even have this opportunity.

That's the difference between me and everyone else in this match. They NEED it, even though they truly don't. They've placed this false sense of pride and accomplishment on this event. They haven't taken any time to actually stop and think about how they got here, and how lucky they are to even be a part of this match. Me? I know I'm a lucky bitch. I shouldn't be here, but I am, and I'm going to make the most out of this opportunity. And there's a real good chance I won't come out of this thing with a victory, but that's ok. Because I will wake up in the morning with a new sense of accomplishment and a new purpose. I will know what I did right and what I did wrong, and I will be thankful for the opportunity.

Can the rest of you say the same?

"Nobody is expecting anything from me. Typical. Chris Chaos is just the washed up has been whose best days are far in the rearview. Right? Well, what if their wrong? I flourish in these types of matches. Any opportunity I have to cause chaos, I take it. Any opportunity I have to throw a wrench into the spokes of this no-so-well-maintained-bike we call a company, I take it. Man....how times have changed. There is a whole roster full of men and women in the back who don't know who Chris Chaos is other than what they've heard or been told. Who don't know what XWF WAS like, and refuse to do their research. I praise them for living in the now, but history always repeats itself.

History is on my side in these types of matches.

Have I won them all, no, but I always fuck shit up. I'm always in the discussion. When push comes to shove, Chris Chaos always seems to have a final say in the decision.

I look at men like Main and Page and I can't help but think that Centurion is right. My past does haunt me. The Shane

days have fucked my mind up. I have never beaten Main, and he is the only one on this roster who I've faced that I haven't. Him and Page, though, our exhange has been brief. That will always fuck with me, and I will not rest until I conqour that mountain. I climbed Mt. Caedus, Mt. Main is surely next. But will I ever get that chance? Who the hell knows.

I roll with the punches now. I take it a step at a time.

Robert Main is Tag Team Champion, and that would require me getting along with someone for more than 5 minutes to topple. He has nothing that I want other than that W. But, I want that W to cost him. Main is sitting in his cave, stroking a title belt, ruling over a division that has been reduced to ash and rubble, telling himself he won't ever lose that gold.

Maybe he won't.

But he has nothing that I want to take. Those Tag Belts aren't his pride and joy, they're his new toy.

Warstein on the other hand? Well, Warstein is going to lose this event, further lamenting all of our claims of him being a phony paper champion, and you best believe when the opportunity comes, I will strike.

Big D is a nobody who gets his rocks off on being the class clown with a smattering of serious. I just wish he was more creative. Comparing Tula to Tua? Man, D, that must have taken you hours to come up with. I'm surprised you didn't have a migrane after that one. You're a loser, whose entire career has been based around being a loser, and you have a hard on because you're on the team with the Champion of Champions? News flash, he's the biggest loser of them all. He's gonna let you down, but you don't care. You're happy as a pig in shit to even be in this event. That's the difference between you and me. I am in it to win it, you're in it to be noticed.

Everything I do, I do it to win. If I can't win the match, I win at making it a damn good contest. You're teaming with Doug Whitford as well. That in and of itself is a death sentence. Has he even said anything in two weeks? He'll disappear when the pressure mounts, and it'll be you and your coward of a 'leader' left taking the War Games dicks into your already gaping anuses. I have all the faith in the world that Centurion will get the job done, and Tula....this is big for her. She's either gonna show up or crumble. Either way, Chris Chaos is gonna ge standing with one foot on the shit and a body spray that smells like roses!

But what I really want to address in my final words is what Jenny said. I'd be lying if I said it didn't take me a bit by suprise. I mean, she went on camera, said what she said, then we shared a bed that night! I guess it truly is a dog eat dog world.

Do you really think that little tirade got you over? Do you really think people are paying attention to you now for anything other than your looks? It'll never change for you, Jen. You have all the appeal of a paper cut. It's just your nature. You have no skills other than the ones I taught you, dont you realize that? You were nothing but eye candy until I needed a tag partner and figured I'd like to see you bounce around in low cut shorts. You'll never be more than a valet, and you aren't even that good at that. How many matches have you cost me?

You are a squeaking rat, a mistake of nature and a heavy-metal bagpipe player. Your alleged parents abandoned you at birth and then died of shame in recognition of what they had done to an unsuspecting world. They were a bit late if you ask me.

Aww, sore subject?

Suck it up butter cup, and come face to face with the reality that you attacked the only person in this world who actually gives one ounce of a fuck about you. You wonder why we've been together four years and I haven't popped the question? Had sex hundreds of times and still haven't put a baby in you? Because it disgusts me. We need to trace your bloodline and terminate all siblings and cousins in order to cleanse humanity of your polluted genes. The good news is that no normal human would ever mate with you, so we won't have to go into the sewers in search of your git.

That has always been your problem, Jen. You NEED to be in the spotlight. You have nothing else to hang your hat on. You are a living emptiness, a meaningless void. You are sour and senile despite your age. You are a loathsome disease, a plague. When War Games is over, forget being the Queen. Forget your little show. Forget the .000000001 worth of attention you've gained through this process. When War Games is over, you should get on your knees--which is your specialty--and thank your lucky stars you have a home to come back to.

The problem is you're focusing on the things in life that don't really matter. When I was a kid I had hopes and dreams. We all did. But over time, the daily grind gets in the way and you miss the things that really matter, even though they are right in front of you, staring you in the face. I think the next time you should ask yourself "Am I on the right track here?". If the answer is no, then shut that jizz stained mouth of yours. Not every battle needs to be fought, and you picked the wrong one this time. So maybe you could use the few brain cells you have and take advantage of the knowledge I have given you now. Good luck."

Allow me to extend a big old "congratulations" to Robert Main for not only his impending victory this Sunday, but for his fantastic promo writing skills. I mean, it's amazing how quickly he has turned Alexei into a legitimate trash talker who can suddenly form complete sentences in English.

What, you don't think I caught on to what's going on here? You took out Russian Rose because he's a bafoon and you replaced him with his not as dimwitted brother. You also slapped a script in his hand, turned on a camera, and said "dance, monkey, dance!" I'm surprised I didn't see Low Mo talking for 20 minutes straight. Either you didn't send him his lines, or he didn't check his Hotmail. Nobody checks their Hotmail!

It must be wonderful being you. This entire tournament worked out in your favor. You drafted one man who is so far up your ass I can no longer tell where one of you ends and the other begins. You drafted another that is willing to do and say whatever the fuck you want them to, like he's your very own Melania Trump. And you drafted the Television Champion who is a troll and usually doesn't give a shit, but he hates enough people in this match to want to do just enough to piss certain people off. And who are your opponents?

Well, you have whatever is left of Shane

, who may or may not be working for you, I don't give enough of a fuck to really look into it. You have Peter Gilmour - pretty self explanatory there. You have Tommy Gunn, who is in the match to screw Gilmour in more ways than one. You have Dick Powers who, I'll he honest, he makes me smile and I don't have a whole lot of bad things to say about the dude. And you have Hired Gun, someone so mediocre you can be forgiven if you forgot he was even in the match.

Wow. Murders row there.

So yes, chill that champagne. You have this locked up. Much like the Golden State Warriors had it locked up when they were up 3-1 on the Cavaliers. Much like the Atlanta Falcons had it locked up with they were up 28-3 on the Patriots. Much like Hillary Clinton had the election locked up in 2016. No reason to try. Might as well celebrate now.

But here's the thing. I am the Patriots. I am the Cavaliers. I am...well, I'm not Donald Trump, but you get the point.

Watching promo after promo, there seems to be very few people who think I'm going to even make it to the main event, and absolutely no one thinks I'm going to win. It's pretty incredible. I understand the chips are down and things look bad, but not even a single person saying "hey, maybe Centurion could win"? Disrespectful.

Though, I can say that about this entire roster Just disrespectful. Jenny Myst thinks she can come in from nowhere and make some snide remarks about me, even though she hasn't done a damn thing in this company? Doug Whitford thinks he can insult me just because he looks like the bastard child of Rick Moranis and Bobby Clampett. Hanari Carnes thinks he can just make shit up about me.

Dude, I never once used a racial joke to disparage you. Give me more credit than that. Your heritage is an important, valuable part of who you are. The fact that you completely suck is independent of that.

Even Ms. Direction, who has had exactly zero matches in this company, thinks she can hurl insults at me. She thinks I'm lame because I don't wear a ridiculous body suit. Whitford thinks I'm lame because I don't use slurs in my promos. Myst thinks I'm lame because I don't come to the ring on a throne expecting everyone to call me "king". These folks ain't me cus that ain't me.

Whiteness confirmed.

I'm really looking forward to this. Truly. I'm looking forward to seeing Chris Page realize that the broken shell of a man he used to work for is dead, and that while he got weaker, I got stronger. I'm looking forward to seeing the look on Big D's face when he realizes that he, once again, failed to deliver on his promise to beat me. I look forward to seeing Shawn Warstein's frustrations as he sees the man he has tried to leave in the dust ending his hopes of being a War Games champion.

Most importantly, I look forward to looking Robert Main in the eyes as he tries to figure out how it all went wrong. How his team - his partner, his Russian monkey, and his meet sack with a title on it - failed to deliver what should have been a slam dunk. Then I'll go on Twitter and brag about it. I'll send the tape to every troll on the internet who can't stand me.

And then I'll send it to Drew Archyle, may he rest in peace, so he can see just how much his former tag team partner has fallen from grace.

Oh, I'm sure the members of your team will take the loss in stride. Chris Page is a reasonable man not known for losing his cool and turning on the people closest to him. I'm sure failing to deliver for the Russian mafia won't cause any issues. I'm sure...

...well, Thunder Knuckles isn't doing to do shit about it, but still.

Ladies and gentlemen...let the War Games begin.]]>

CONTINUED FROM "There's War on The Streets": http://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37118 and the ending of "Facing My Demons": http://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37122

"The lady’s right"

(Tula and Centurion quickly turn their heads towards the sound of the mysterious voice. A figure walks through the woods, but is barely seen – only a black silhouette and the sound of crunching leaves and sticks gives away the position of the person. After a few seconds though, the figure comes closer, until they step into the clearing. It’s Chris Chaos, the man they have been waiting for.)

"You shouldn’t have come here."

Chris steps out of the bushes. Tula gasps, and Centurion, although not afraid of this man, does brace himself for the unpredictability he has become known for.

"Relax. I'm not here to hurt ya. Your health benefits me. I've had the deck stacked against me one too many times in this place to have to go into War Games alone. Believe it or not, I'm not THAT arrogant."

Both of them do indeed relax a bit.

"Then why should we not have come here? Why the ominous, creepy horror movie killer lurking in the bushes voice then?"

"Well, because you just never know exactly WHO was in those bushes. Your leaving yourself out in the open, exposed. There are far too many snakes in the grass around this place, and every one of them would love to take their pound of flesh before this little shindig gets underway."

Chris sits down next to them, his feet moving loose dirt and debris around.

"How's your arm feeling?"

"I'll live."

"Tough girl."

"You have no idea."

Chris picked his head up.

"You're new here, but I can tell you can handle yourself when shit hits the fan. And trust me, it will. Kind of the M.O. of this place. Not gonna lie, you've got a strong mentor. Centurion is All-State, you're in good hands."

"I know. But what we are both wondering about is what you bring to the table. Your mind state, your mental health and progress."

Chris smiles a weird grin, tilting his head to the side. He stares at her for a moment before his creepy grin turns into an outright smile. He looks at Centurion.

"Progress is an interesting word, Cent. Progress is what everything on this planet revolves around. Progress keeps everything moving. XWF is the polar opposite of progress. I don't know if it's management, the lack of recruiting or viable talent, or the fact that the same three names wedge themselves into the fabric of the proverbial XWF couch and don't let go. Centurion, if I can be frank for a moment, you're one of the best wrestlers I have been in the ring with. No offense, but you're kind of a senior citizen around here. You've seen every nook and cranny of XWF, do you think we've progressed?"

"Would you love to go back? Do you want to return to the days of Shane

As Robert stepped into the matured factory building it was like stepping into a whole other world. It was like venturing onto a set of old train tracks and following them as far as they'd take you, ignoring the grass peeking up between the slats and the bits where the metal was rusted and broken. The building seemed to shudder in the wind and sway as the rain attacked it.

” Even the one guy you all said wasn’t going to show up showed the fuck up.” A sly smirk graces Robert’s face as he continues. ” A fate worse than death am I right Jenny Myst? I’ll keep my royal flush I was dealt and you uh… Keep spreading falsehoods and wishing upon a star… Tell me how feels to swallow your fucking words? Of all people Jenny you should know better to talk one once of shit about me… You’ve witnessed me dismantle Chris Chaos up close and personal how many times now? I’ve always got an ace in the hole and if you sheep could see the gravity of the situation you're all in you’d each be shitting your pants collectively. I’m the only captain that saw my team’s legitimacy. A team that everyone overlooked and said I was thickheaded for picking… I have an eye for talent unlike the rest of the captains in this match. I’m the one sitting pretty having the last laugh. My team is one of the two teams that showed up for this thing. Jenny tell me when Page and I haven’t had a gigantic bullseye on our backs? We are the white whales of this company, the pot at the end of the rainbow… We are the straw that stirs the fucking drink. Prevailing over us opens every door you didn’t have the intestinal fortitude to open yourself. We cherish the idea of everyone having a vested interest in us. We are the holy grail and the end game in the XWF… I for one don’t need to throw around my accolades Jenny, all I have to do is keep on annihilating and moving on.”

He pulled down his hood. The building was empty, but for a few obsolete pieces of rusted factory equipment, pieces that seemed perfectly at home within the building's vine-covered walls. Just as it had been outside, the inside looked like something out of a dystopian movie, the corrugated walls as rusted and useless as the equipment they housed. Beams stretched high overhead, as the rain dripped down through cracks in the ceiling.

” Tula, hi my name is Robert “The Omega” Main, I’d like to welcome you to my show… The one I’ve been running for years now. And you thought I forgot about you… Darling, I scout all the talent of this company… Now what I’m about to do is offer you an olive branch or a way out of this hodgepodge of a cluster fuck Centurion created for the three amigos. Listen to me, while you have the chance walk away from all of this. Save yourself the embarrassment, Centurion will let you down. He’s let me down before but that’s neither here nor there. The impending doom that is about to unfold isn’t worth a career-ending injury, over here on team Main we take no prisoners… This is business and lady you are smack dab in the middle of our business. I’m not underestimating you or your team’s ability to make it to the main event… I just don’t believe your whining team captain has it in him… He picked a turd, and no matter how he wants to polish it up… It’s still just a turd… All the fancy words in the world will not get team Cent out of the six-foot hole HE dug. Tula, I guess what I am saying here is no matter how this plays out, it’s survival of the fittest and from where I’m standing team Chump or team Cent is dead in the water.”

” I’d mention Boris or Tommy Gunn but why?”

He stepped further into the building, looking around as he left wet footprints on the floor in his wake. His hands trailed along the old beams, turning back to the door he had entered. The abandoned factory seemed like an odd place to do much of anything, let alone a suitable place to cut a promo. His breath seemed to still in the cold air, leaving a gap of soundless space as he stood there. A gap of nothing but a challenge. Only the rain dared to interrupt, pounding hard against the walls of the building like it didn't care about their stupid conversation he was about to have with the rest of The XWF roster members involved in Wargames. And it didn't.

” Felix Jones…” Robert places his palm on his forehead. ” Here’s a guy who believes he’s got it all figured out. Now I would applaud your monumental effort rookie if it weren’t so fucking evident …” Robert makes a jerking off motion near his custard launcher. ” Why not tell me the color of the sky next time? Jesus H. Christ son…Thanks for pointing out the conspicuous imperfections of my team. But for the sake of saving a bit of time here, I’m going to kind of fast-forward over TK and Lomo situation if you don’t mind. I just don’t see the need of beating a dead horse anymore, especially after everyone involved in this pay-per-view has come to this same conclusion…” Robert golf claps while shaking his head. ” Good on you for being a maverick there Felix, I thought you were different from the rest… But with those words, all you did was prove without a shadow of a doubt you are nothing more than a sheep.

But enough on how you are a boot-licking parasite, let’s talk about why you should be concerned…” Robert bit the edge of his lip in a vain attempt to keep his creeping grin at bay. The intention behind his perking lips wasn’t something that could be easily kept in check. ” For one your team captain ghosted you and I mean flat ass didn’t fucking show up Hoss. Yet you have the gall to talk shit about Lomo, he showed his face no matter how limited the time was… He did his part and in the grand scheme of things and that’s all we needed him to do.” Robert glanced at the floor when his eyebrows slightly raised as his mischievous look spread even further. ” Here’s a bit of free advice n00b in this game of three seconds the pawns go first without exception. You’d think a man living in a glass house would be the last person throwing stones… Yet here we are… And yes, I realize I have the gluttonous TK on my team but at the very least he’s showing up. He’s putting in the work no matter of his intentions. Thunder Knuckles has pulled his weight as far as I’m concerned… Can you say the same about the shit show you call a team?”

Mischief is in the eye of the beholder. It certainly was in Robert’s case.

” What I still find astonishing is how everyone is counting out Alexei Medved… This guy is a calculated, remorseless savage and if he gets the opportunity you along with everyone else in this shit- show will see unsympathetic up close and personal. Medved is the defection of barbaric, this bloodthirsty man will go to any length to do what he does best. Brutalize feeble people like you Jones… You can meet the challenge with humility, grace and even a courageous soul... But when it comes to that final match it will be Chris Page, Alexei, TK and myself kicking teeth down throats.” At times Robert could be a bit forward, a little intrusive, but it was clear that his mannerisms were due to his assertiveness. ” Someone like you Jones will be fortunate if you even get out of the damn starting blocks let alone make the main event against a couple of contract killers. I’m not sure if you have noticed this unequivocal fact. So, I’ll spell it out for you jackass. This team that I hand-selected and gotten so much shit for…

This is the team to beat… Do you know what lambasting a man like Chris Page or I will do for your career? I’ll tell you…” Robert acts like he has a slingshot in his hand. ” It will propel your pathetic career here in the XWF further than you would have ever dreamed… Everyone involved in this thing knows it, including our idiot Champion. That’s why we are mentioned in almost every promo… Now, Felix, there was one thing you said that I found noteworthy, you had the beach ball-sized man nuts to say you didn’t know if I Robert “The Omega” Main had what it takes to cut it in this business anymore. Kid, I’ve seen more than a few thin dicked politicians in my day, you can push the propaganda, but in my ring, I pop your skull every time. I’ve been taken down twice in over a year, by a demon, you wouldn’t last a few nanoseconds with. When it comes to the big one junior, I come out on top… It must suck… The moment you realize you don’t know shit. You couldn’t lace my boots pal. I pray you get to the main event Jones… So, I can slide my dick down your pessimist throat. Sorry, Dick Powers I’ve got to do it.”

Lightning illuminates the abandoned factory as Robert's eyes lifted towards the heavens. Roberts eyes then wandered for a few second. Then came the refusal to smile, to show any warmth in this game of emotional warfare. The laughter evaporated from his eyes. Graves crossed an invisible line offending Robert for the last time.

” We have Graves standing there, grimacing, giving me that irritating side-eye he’s given me since the day we met. I did try to trade Lomo for you? Absolutely, and I do it again. I thought it was an even trade… A turd for a turd… But what aggravated me is what you tried next, the fly by night bull shit Michael Graves is known for…” Robert’s blood drained as his heart hammered away erratically. ” You tried swinging that dick around and what happened? It got smashed. What you did, that is some appalling, cowardly, spineless shit. I don’t want to go hard proving a point here so pay close attention. You see, Michael, whatever you do, no matter fucking what, you don’t mess with the new world order in this federation. And the new world order is Cataclysm, and it’s very uncomplicated, so, even if you’re ignorant, which you may very well be, you can understand it.

We will shut your sex offender ass down, no freaking exceptions. We will bring the hammer down so fast you won’t even know what just hit you upside the melon. Do you believe you’re some sort of a hero in all of this? Graves let me share a secret here, you are and always will be a nothing. A nobody way in over your head. You’ve always been a backstabbing, double-crossing dirt-bag. You tired fucking us over. Now there is no getting out of this mess. Whether it’s at Wargames or later, I wouldn’t accept your surrender if you came to me begging for mercy on those knees.” Robert’s cold eyes had a deadness, a stillness as he continued burning Graves down to his foundation. ” I’ve always had a shit load of confidence that I can lead people down the right path. Thunder Knuckles for example… He might have been a mistake and I’ll own it. I took a chance on the man, thinking I was doing the right thing, and from my view, all I did was punch myself in the dick.

But who knows maybe just maybe he will see the light and do the right thing for the first time in his career…? Maybe not… I like the guy, I always have… But cross me and you’ll be making pizzas at pizza hut after I’m done castrating your ass… All I got to do is snap and that Television Championship is gone… Robert snaps his fingers. ” I don’t want to do it, but again if needed myself or one of my hooligans will prove that point, I spoke of earlier. But let’s switch gears here and talk about that time you “kicked my ass” in Lethal Lottery, shall we? When we stood across the ring from one another it was you and Peter Gilmour - vs - me and that crotch stained deadbeat Justin Sayne… Far from the picture you tried to paint… Like always your trash talk has more holes than a slice of swiss cheese. I didn’t have a partner and went into this alone, I may have been subjugated Graves, but not one second in that match did you ever steamroll me. We face off one on one I’d break your fucking back and never leer in the rear-view. You can’t fucking touch me and you know it. I never take an “L” what I do is take careers and make them disappear.”

Water washed over Robert's skin so strongly that it feels like he was in the flow of a river rather than an inside a building, one that leaves him standing yet lets him know that it is here to stay for a while. And so the only thing to do is to keep walking forward, to accept it as easily as the air he was breathing, to see it run over the earth beneath the soft soles of his boots.Robert’s wide-opened eyes reflected everything in front of him but saw nothing… Behind them was something more interesting than the normal clenched jaw.

” Do you know why I picked Page? Because he is my partner in crime and something you could never be… A real friend, someone I can trust with my life… He isn’t a sick freak trying to stick his dick in every under-aged girl he can find either. And while you may have found my trade offer degrading, it’s all you are worth Graves. It’s all you’ll ever be worth in my eyes… You are worth a fucking Lomo…” [orange] Robert flips Graves the bird. [orange] “Fuck you Graves and I mean that from the bottom of my black heart. When I saw you strutting your way down to the ring on Savage, we let VV go. You didn’t ask shit. She walked away under her own power, you, on the other hand, got crushed under the weight of Cataclysm. I might be a bastard nowadays, but the image of her locked in a basement flashed in my mind so we laid you out… And by the way, who the fuck are you to ask us to do anything, you stuck your nose in our business and now you are bitching because you got smacked around? This is nothing more than a case of sour grapes… No one has taken you seriously since you abducted Dolly Waters and trapped her in a cage dude…”

Narcissism comes from having a brittle ego, people like Shawn “Fuzz” Warstein manufactures walls of indifference and seek prestige to conceal their vulnerable self… This is our Champion in a nutshell…

” Fuzz thinks he is being cute with his Greek title. Hey, dick you’re not the only educated one in the room. “The road to the end” is fitting title Shawn I mean after all Page and I have eradicated your confidence over the past two months. Not to mention eroding any credibility you had as Universal Champion… March Madness was a flop, and then there was that captains match where I pinned you, I’m sure you’ve heard all the negative comments and gossip. You know? How I own that ass… Just want to let you know that you're sitting' in my chair. Honestly, man, I can’t imagine the stress that you’re under. Most don’t see you for what you truly are, Shawn they look at you through rose-colored glasses. What I see, what I know is the truth. The weight of that Championship seems to be making you weak in the knees. Before you know it that yellow spine will collapse underneath the pressure of the crown you were never fit to wear.”

The narcissist losses that skirmish every day, always choosing to use their selves first. Just ask Noah Jackson.

” Yet there are people out there saying that you of all people are going to end my career… That’s comedy gold… I can’t help the fact that you are elderly and resentful and can’t hit me where it hurts. Watching you try to talk shit gave me a God damn concussion. You want to get your hands around my neck? Are you drunk? I mean really…? Because when you step to me Fuzz, I set you back down. You must be drunk trying to beef with me, you’ll need a tall ladder to get up onto me level pal… All you can do is raise that voice while I keep raising the fucking standard… Shawn when you became Universal Champion you took a hefty shit on everything that I built from the ground up. You woke up the bull man and all I see is red. Fuzz you’ve become a weak target that I’m starting to feel bad for killing again. I guess all those Tweets have backfired huh Fuzz…? But hey who am I to judge? You’ve always been a parody..."
]]>

Angry. If he could describe the way he was feeling in one word. It would surely be angry. He was infuriated because he knew the injury was preventable. From the very beginning, Alexei never liked the idea of his brother being part of an unsanctioned deathmatch. But the choice was not his. He had offered his advice and guidance, but it went unheard.

Russian Rose was fed up with the lack of opportunities provided. The XWF was supposed to open more doors for the pro wrestler. But it seemed to be the opposite, that's why he took the offer. He was unhappy and looking for a way out. He was offered a lucrative salary for one night; he could retire with the funds. Indeed, he retired and with the funds in his pocket but sad to say the doctors aren't sure if he will ever be able to walk again.

::::The Following Message Was Recorded Earlier Today By Alexei Medved’s Interpreter::::

My brother…He was a shattered image of his old self now. Bedridden for the time being, confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. I'm not sure what was worse, the fact that my mother won't stop crying, or how my brother won't stop talking about how he will never be World Champion.

I'm so God damn selfish that I can't stop thinking about the fact that I won't see him pummel the living shit out of Peter Gilmour. I won't be able to watch him rip Dick Powers to fucking shreds. I won't be able to witness him showing off his true potential with the likes of Shane

inside the white house, chopping each member down like a Christmas tree. But that's fine, I've come to terms with the fact that I'll never see him wrestle again. One thing that I do know is that I now have the tremendous opportunity of throwing Team

one of the most remorseless drubbings in XWF history.

My brother may not be able to wrestle again. But when one door closes another one opens. His career has tragically ended and mine has shockingly begun. Now I get to face off against pieces of shit like the Hired gun who isn't even worth shining my brother's fucking shoes. You see I never wrestled Pro, but I can tell you I'm more resilient than any one of those members of Team

. Hell, I'm the hardest hitting mother fucker in the XWF. Anyone who has a problem with that can step up and try to solve it. We can start with bottom-feeding garbage like Red-X and end at the top dog, Shawn Warstein. The XWF’s paper Champion…Then the in-between, all the other insignificant poor excuses for competitors can try to stay relevant.

But I have a pact with Robert Main, with Chris Paige and whoever else wants to align with the future winners of Wargames. Collectively, Team Cataclysm will rain down on the XWF like a hurricane, like an earthquake, a natural disaster unlike any other witnessed by mankind. It will be the end of days, one by one, they will fall, bending at the knee or dying by the sword.

Men like Tommy Gunn have no idea what they have gotten themselves into. Tommy, I've had my people contact your family, more specifically your mother. We've made arrangements for her to start picking out your casket. I was surprised to hear she picked the cheapest lumber... pine. Just confirming that your existence doesn't matter, not even to your mother.

Tommy, you want to make fun of the Medved family? You want to talk shit? Well at Wargames, we will meet, and I will expose you for the bitch you really are. Because whether it's in the ring or on the street, you won't stand a chance against me. But with you I want to do my talking in the ring and let it culminate with you in that pine box that your mommy picked out. You will be food for the fucking worms.

Moving on from the sewer rats to the King of the jungle, Warstein better tread lightly. Because his team has that extensive ego, it's so oversized all I want to do is pop it. Like a floating balloon, it only gets attention because of its pretty little color and shape. Reminds me of the champ’s girl, looks like she wasn't satisfied and took an extended vacation.

My teammates have made a habit of knocking the Universal Champion down a few notches. When Fuzz is faced with the situation of kill or be killed his true colors will come out. YELLOW … But INobody from the XWF has come across the likes of a man like Alexei Medved. Might as well make a date with the grim reaper himself because death is not far behind. May thirty first, I plan on being in that last main event match. After I drag Peter Gilmour by the greasy hair from turnbuckle to turnbuckle. After Team Cataclysm dismantles Team

, their main event match will follow. Just like the match before, Team Cataclysm will rape and pillage until we have conquered all. We will take no prisoners, Bid D, Doug Whitford, that goes for both of you.

So, when I tell you, boys, it is time for your last words, I better not hear any crying or complaining. Because you have been all properly warned. If you talk the talk then you better all walk the walk or just lay down... Plain and simple. Because I will be at Wargames, I will be competing. Let it be known, Judgement day is coming.

I don't care if it's Jenny Myst, Ms. Direction, The Wizard. I will squash you all like a roach underneath my boot. Myst wants to be queen? Be real and marry a King. Because there is no way you are taking the throne especially while you spend most of your time laying on your back. But it could be worse, you could be face down and ass up like your boyfriend Chaos while he gets pegged by Tula. I wonder if that's considered cheating? I don't think so especially since Chris will be doing the cuckold during her match on Sunday. Chris, will that be with dildo in or out? I guess it's whatever you prefer, or Tula prefers, or Jenny prefers...I'm not sure how that Triangle works. I wonder if Chaos Inc. teammate Hanari Carnes gets a piece of that as well. You guys got a whole new meaning to the words tag team.

The setting... One of the many D.C hotel lobbies. Windows from wall to wall, ceiling to floor. The bright morning sun illuminating the large room that buzzed with reporters. The flashes from the cameras glitter off the dark painted walls. They reflect off the giant crystal chandelier that hangs above the main podium.

Three black steel stairs, a long table draped in a black tablecloth are perched atop the podium. The background beyond the table and three chairs and the XWF Wargames logo. The energy in the room begins to heighten. The whispers grow into clusters of loud buzzing as Alexei Medved enters onto the podium. Slicked back hair, dark sunglasses, a red rose dangling from the breast pocket of his dark green fitted suit. He is all business as he chooses one of the outside chairs and takes a seat. He taps on the microphone in front of him, testing to make sure it works. He nods his head at the media acknowledging that it is on and working properly. A reporter stands up and is first to speak.

Suddenly his train of thought was interrupted by the sound of a women's voice.

" разумеется вам возможно как правило на "

It was a familiar voice, a Russian woman hired by the Medved camp as a publicist. In America, her services were never needed until today. But she has now coordinated the most important press conference that Alexei had ever been a part of.

"Alexei, on behalf of the wrestling community our thoughts are with your family at this time. First off, how is your brother handling recovery?"

Alexei has a stone-cold glare as he stares into the sea of reporters and members of the press.

" Recoverrr-y?"

Alexei shakes his head and looks down at the microphone.

" Brrrother Evgeni finish. Carrreer finish."

The simultaneous gasp from the crowd can be heard.

" Now I... Alexei Medved will take Russian Rose place at Wargames. I will rrrep-rrresent Medved name. I will avenge my brrrother. I will crrrush competition."

Alexei seems furious as he continues adjusting his blood-red tie.

" I have heard enough! Competitorrrrs will start to be accountable forrr worrrds. Enough is enough, people cannot go on disgracing my family name. People like Dominican piece of shit Carrrnes. He think he is bad... He think he is tough... beforrre he get chance to speak I zap him in mouth.

Robert “The Omega” Main and “Chronic” Chris Page both walk out from behind Alexei taking their seats as a barrage of questions come raining down as Chris Speaks up.

” Robert and I are not taking a single fucking question…”

Robert reaches for his microphone.

” Alexei on behalf of Chris and myself we want to offer our condolences. We will not let the Medved family down. Now Alexie if you don’t mind Page and I are going to lighten the mood around here and do what we do best.”

Alexie nods lighting a cigarette.

” You know what’s funny, Rob?” Chris Page and Robert Main are shown snickering as Alexie blow a thick cloud of smoke into the air. ” These fuckers still don’t pay attention and still think rambling off falsehoods is enough to take them to the pay window when it comes to dealing with the legit two alphas on this roster. Three with Alexei.”

” You can’t blame them anymore for flat out being uneducated regardless of how many times we’ve thrown the truth in their faces. You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make that horse drink the water. What cracks me up is how these inexperienced unsophisticated jackasses keep attacking our Tag Team straps… The division is on its last legs… Hey guys and gals, this match doesn’t have a damn thing to do with our Tag Team Titles or the division… This is about Wargames you empty-headed lamebrains. What’s the excuse going to be after we walk out of Wargames with the “W”?” Robert grins raising his index finger into the air. ” Oh, I know… The Wargames teams were emasculated… Right? Why not just tell the God damn truth… You were clobbered by superior wrestlers… It’s amazing how the entire fucking roster needs a crutch to stand, besides the three of us sitting here at this table… We win and move onto the next one.”

” I just wish it was a little more difficult to combat rather than shooting fish in a fucking barrel.” Chris shakes his head dropping the mic from his lips before he continues.
” Let’s start this off by dealing with the first team we’re going to steamroll and that belongs to you, Shane. And the first monkey turd we’re going to slash to pieces is that of you, Gilmour.” Chris turns towards Robert as he sarcastically spouts. ” That ten grand belongs to me. Alexei grins waving his hand in the air then pointing to himself.”

” That’s left to be determined, yet ole’ Gilly has done what Gilly does, he opens his mouth and his verbal diarrhea starts to explode. I wish this guy would retire.” [orange] Robert rolls his eyes annoyed. [orange] “First things first when it comes to you Pete, we could clash one hundred times and you’d be humbled one hundred times. You do realize it’s hard to spit some shit against two guys just can’t seem to slay.”

” He did lay you out with a Cutter, that shit was funny.”

” Fuck off. Not funny.”

Alexei points to Robert making a Gilmour cutter motion.

” That’s good shit, Alexei… Look Robert’s pouting…” Robert extends his arms out to his sides flipping his partners off. ” But since when have I dodged you, Pete? Do you seriously believe the things you say? I tell you what since I’ve been skirting you, I’ll make you a deal; after I collect my ten grand for your elimination I’ll pop on over to Warfare and own you on your turf, again. How about that little boy? Does that work for you? I mean, unless you’ve got more pressing matters to contend with you ignorant fuck.”

” Dude why waste your time? We already know how this story ends.”

” Yes… Dead in ditch.

” Sometimes lessons have to be taught regardless if it’s time-wasting or not.”

” Speaking of time-wasting, shrimp Dick Powers anyone?”

” Centimeter Peter…”

” Isn’t that the dude that gave Gilly a hard-on after telling you to get your dick out of my ass? And we’re gay? This is getting

.”

” Regardless of how unintelligent things are going to get… We’ve got to stay the course… Painful yes I know… Oh, and yes Pete’s dick got hard thinking about another man, again.”

” I honestly thought I was looking at a Vita promo when hearing the lame remarks made in our general direction. I often wonder why people elect to use THE SAME MATERIAL that has failed… I dunno… EVERYONE else?

” We can’t help that you’re a clueless twit that hasn’t amounted to anything other than bad comic relief, but Dick trust me when I tell you that we’re going to thoroughly enjoy whipping your ass and thumping you within an inch of your life… While sending you crawling back under the rock in which you’ve emerged from. You might want to peek at what every other person that’s crossed our paths have said and I don’t know…Maybe not REPEAT it, then again it takes talent to be original which is something you know absolutely nothing about. Just keep the sperm worm in your pants and everything will be over relatively quick…”

” Oh and by the way, Lowmo showed up… What other lies does your magic 8-ball have for you?”

” Chris, I didn’t know you were overrated? I lied… I did know that… You are…”

” Oh yeah man, I’m certain everyone has said it time after time after time after time… Hired Gun isn’t any different. I mean for someone who is as overrated as I am to have 17 World Title under my belt, to have beaten the best of the best this profession has to offer all the while making it look effortless, to running a successful company… Yeah, bro, I’m as overrated as they come and you’re apparently a Non-Playable Character. Oh, and fuck you…”

” You haven’t beat the best of the best dick… You’ve never defeated me… Page flips Robert off while Alexei seems to be enjoying the banter. ” At least I’m not gay.”

” If you use the logic proposed by everyone else... You are, deal with it.” Robert simply shakes his head. ” I didn’t tell these fuckers to be generic, yet that’s all they’ve done.”

” Well K-Money… “ Chris smacks Robert on the shoulder.

” Dude I told you that in confidence!”

” Oh… Right” Robert redirects. ” Well Hired Gun I wish I could say I was impressed with your display but that’d be nothing short of a fabrication. I’ve never lived in a fairytale and I’m not going to start now… Let’s be honest you cheap MK rip off you’re as cookie-cutter as cookie-cutter gets. You keep thinking you can stand toe to toe with either myself or my overrated partner and we’re going to show you firsthand, live and in living color how wrong you truly are.”

” And finally there’s Shane

who is doing what Shawn won’t do… Sell.”

"Shane will always do Shane and I hate that we have to be the two that stalls his momentum; however, this is business and we’ve got nothing but time and opportunity to send them all packing.”

” When it comes to

this isn’t personal… but we’ve got a job to do and that job is being the last two standing in this entire cluster fuck they’re calling a Pay-Per-View. We’ve already won round one and now we’re on our way to winning round two. This is going to be easier than Gilly’s dick getting hard for another dude.”

” The way we see it is like this… Team

- vs - Team Cataclysm ends one way… With Cataclysm standing over all your broken bodies and taking that next step to the Main Event of this program where talents like us belong… The rest of you can only dream of attaining.”

” I wish I could say our job is done but being as overrated as I am and you being the failure as a champion. Isn’t it funny how our names couldn’t help but overflow from the mouths of damn near everyone involved in this program? I can’t say I’m surprised being as overrated as I am yet being one of the top men to beat is kind of an oxymoron.”

” Aw Chris, you know people will say whatever they need to in order to sleep better at night. Walking talking contradictions.”

::::To Be Continued::::

]]>

]]> <![CDATA[In war there's no substitute for victory. (cont.from last RP)]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37126 Sat, 30 May 2020 13:36:03 -0700 Chris Page]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37126 [align=center]There Alexei Medved, Robert Main and Chris Page stood, with a newly found desire for total authority and dominance. They called it something more straightforward… Respect… Alexie released his white-knuckle grip on his two duffel bags dropping them onto the floor.

” Thunder Knuckles think he take money and run?” Alexei changes his tone became coarse like rocks rubbing against one another speaking in Russian. ” YA ne lyublyu, kogda menya trakhayut. I take T.V. title.”

The basement they were standing in was once a wine cellar, holding the most expensive vintages that Eastern Europe had to offer each were meticulously shelved in wooden racks, trusted to the natural refrigeration of the soil behind the dense brick walls. Robert watched as Alexei crossed his arm leering down at the duffel bags filled with stolen money. Page tossed his bag to the floor running his hands over the ancient brackets that held candles every few feet, it's been so long since they were used that there isn't even any waxy residue anymore. Alexei reached upward pulling the tattered string of a solitary light bulb that is dangling from the ceiling. Alexei becomes more agitated. Pointing to the duffel bags planted at his feet.

” Next time I stick gun in mouth and pull trigger… Gromovyye kostyashki dolzhny zaplatit' za yego prichineniye vreda… Wargames we get revenge.”

Robert tossed his duffel bag to the floor.

” Listen, I know he tried taking all the cash from that bank robbery, but here we are all the cash in hand… Maybe we can use it as a bribe? TK has an unquenchable thirst for money. Hell, he says he’s seen the light, maybe he’s a changed man?”

” Net ... My yego ubivayem. Can’t be trusted.”

Page leans in.

” Main, Alexei is right, you cross us you’ve got to pay the price. Alexei where are we exactly?”

Alexei turns around smiling…

” Home away from home comrrrade Page…”

The basement of this abandoned house would have appeared to others as discomforting and sinister, but it was their only place of escaping from the rest of the world. Page sighs…

” Page… You doubt me…? You believe Alexei Medved stay in shit hole?”

Page shrugs as Alexei pushed one specific brick in, then the entire wall moved to reveal a colossal chamber, the walls - half-naked rock, half polished steel. Armed guards stood at the doorway with Russian AK-47’s watching as Alexei shouted at his goons.

” Get money idiot, count then divide thrrree ways…”

The two Russian mobsters quickly rush over grabbing each of the duffel bags.

” Welcome to United States base of operrrations… Follow…”

As the trio left the decrepit basement moving further underground things changed rapidly. There was a maze of titanium rooms, each one buzzing with computers other rooms loaded with the latest in weaponry. Page stopped as his jaw hung slack all he could do is watch… An entire room was filled to the top with money being counted from all over the globe.

” Before we leave, I have a favor. Can I lay in all that cold hard cash Scrooge McDuck?”

Alexei nods.

” This is going to be a good day.”

Every inch was recorded by security cameras… It was now clear what the Medved family were involved in, sure they were mobsters dabbling in cocaine, hookers and money laundering. They made most of their fortune in the gun business. The Medved’s were top-notch arms dealer, the wholesale provider of death and horror, not the sanitized version on the movie screens, but the tangible genocides, the executions of entire families. Alexei grinned revealing a dead quality to his eyes as if his soul had long departed and left this zombie-like man in his place, a monster to do the bidding of evil. Alexei was psychopathic through and through, with all the charm they use to manipulate and threaten all at once.

” Not too bad Alexei… One question though… After the past few days that we’ve had… Where is the bourbon?”

Page chimes in.

” And chronic? I need to knock the edge off before we continue our burial of these fools.”

” Main, we have finest Russian bourrrbon and cigarrrs… Page best weed in worrrld prrre rrrolled… Also set up live feed to cut prrromo forrr Warrrgames… This way…”

Alexei lead the charge as he was handed a chilled glass of Vodka, Robert was given a glass of bourbon and Page a Bob Marley sized joint. Page didn’t waste a second pointing at his unlit joint, as a guard quickly leaned in lighting it for Page.

” God damn! I feel like a freaking supervillain and it feels stupendous.”

Robert points.

” This camera?”

Alexei nods…

” Rrred light on… We arrre live.”

” Dude I’m so overrated I single-handedly eliminated HALF of Apex at this same event; hey Raven! Hey Drew!”

” Don’t’ be a dick.”

”Who Rrraven? Drrrew?”

” Not important Alexei… I’m just saying I’m so overvalued that I beat the unstoppable Nicole Jackson to win these little belts and I’m so over promoted that I walked into this company and was HANDED the top spot because the complacent little fucks that STILL run their mouths today are still in the same spot… On the fucking sidelines.”

” Sideline hoes.”

” If this was Twitter it’d be all Shawn all day every day, yet you’re delusional as fuck if you think we’ve shot our best shots when it comes to dealing with you, sir. We’re just getting started if anyone is on borrowed time it’s you. You’re the guy that loves to evade challenges from legitimate challengers; you’re the guy that plays one broken record after another… But more importantly, you’re nowhere near as tremendous or wonderful as you might think you are.”

” Shawn you’ve loved sitting on the sidelines talking about how my title reigns haven’t meant a damn thing and now here you sit in the driver’s seat with an engine that won’t even start. You’re dealing with guys like Calvary. Damn bro, you’ve burned me. The fact of the matter is this Chump you’re not ready for conflict like this.”

” For a guy that’s talked so much shit about how we’re pretty much nobodies in this profession and yet in the same sentence talk about WANTING to get your hands on us, NEW FLASH fuck boy, we aren’t hard to find and if you’re as serious about wanting us. You would have already accepted Main’s challenge and put the only thing that makes you relevant on the line; the Universal Title, and since you’re not going to do that fearing yet another loss… Why don’t you defend it against me?”

Robert chimes in directly.

” He’ll find a reason not to. Plus, Centurion is the next contender. You don’t need a fortune teller to see it coming.”

” I don’t see the problem with it; I mean I’m washed up, right? I’m a has-been, right? I’m only successful because I ran a company, right? It’s a shoe-in victory for someone such as Shawn Warstein because I can’t hang, right?” Chris intently gazes into the camera speaking directly to the Universal Champion. ” If you think I’m punched out… Try me, I dare you… or better yet, keep your fucking belt and just come fight me… at least when I beat you you’ll have that shiny belt to fall back on.”

” In the meantime you say that you want us? Cool story bro, we’ve never been hard to find and while people can play the hit and run game all they’d like it’s something completely different standing in the middle of the ring with us daring you to do something… When it comes to getting it done when it matters; no one on this fucking roster stands a chance. Shawn the last time we saw each other I did exactly what I said I’d do. I sat you down on your prissy little overvalued, overpromoted, overestimated pumped up ass … You’re not going to have to look for us come Wargames, we’ll be in the main event waiting to slaughter whoever it may be.”

” We’re going to be waiting especially for you.”

” Oh... And if you can, bring ole Doug Whitford with you.” Chris immediately starts bursting out into laughter at the mention of Doug’s name which draws the ire of Robert. ”What’s so funny?”

” Dude you do realize we’re the only two guys Doug mentioned outside of his opponents.”

” Well, of course, Chris, this is the shit that happens when you are at the top of the food chain. These lowlifes will go out of their way to mention us trying to gain that fifteen seconds of fame… Some clout, Doug be careful when you mention the names of God’s, you might not like the outcome. Doug, do yourself a favor and just shut the fuck up now and stop talking like you belong in the same conversation as Chris and me. You, much like everyone else seems to think that this a game but there’s nothing funny or no games being played when you step up the Everest of this company. If you’re lucky enough to survive Centurion, if you can get past the King of the Mid Carders and reach that Main Event we’re going to be waiting… Untouched and nearly at full capacity we’ll see if you got the sack to back up your play.”

Robert pauses.

” Don’t you worry little lad, don’t you fret because should you make the Main Event your tenure will be short-lived, you can thank us for that.”

” Speaking of short-lived, Centurion… Old buddy, old pal.”

” This guy seriously thinks he belongs in the Main Event…. Dude, I hate to break the news to you… You’re not on that level regardless of how much you pep yourself up. Your deluded logic that I “tried so hard” to keep Shawn out of the top spots of the Captains match makes about as much sense as a Peter Gilmour promo. I didn’t try anything; I showed up and kicked his ass, clobbering him right after he beat you.”

” This cocksucker right here has a lot of gall as he chases your Hart Title record while trying to convince the world that Shawn versus Centurion would sell some fucking tickets. Dude, I booked you opposite Nick Fucking Ryan because that’s where you belonged; and what makes you boring as fuck isn’t that proverbial shit talk, oh no, it’s the lame productions you show us beforehand. So, and I mean this in the nicest possible way, go kill yourself like Hana Kimura and do the entire world a favor in the process.” Robert shifts his attention and stares at Chris which prompts him to say. ”To soon?” Robert shakes his head as he returns his attention towards the camera.

” Way to embrace the dark side Chris Chaos, once again playing second fiddle. Seems about right.”

” Didn’t we just demolish him and Carnes, nothing left to see here.”

” Atara showed she doesn’t have what it takes to step into the forefront. But we already knew that going in.”

” Carnes can thank his lucky stars because the only way anyone on his team was making the finals was with the lack of promo time the opposing team put in. So, it looks like our original thoughts of Atara/Shawn/Us has been spoiled.”

” Congratulations Team Carnes for being the only other team other than my own to have all your teammates bother to do some work and build your respective matches, and while you thwarted our bracket thank God this isn’t March Madness. I know you’re all getting super excited, but you shouldn’t be.”

” Making the final means you’re going to be looking across at us, and you all already know how that’s going to play out.”

” Let’s take a closer look at the third piece of the equation that will comprise the Main Event of this Pay-Per-View because it’s not a matter if members of Team Carnes make it it’s a matter of how many.”

” We can cross Mastermind of that list.”

” I’d agree with that.”

” That prick has been given more opportunities to win major titles only to squander them all, literally.”

” Two words that sum him up, gloried fuckup.”

” Speaking of glorified fuckups, Hanari Carnes… Jesus Christ, you talk about a bandito. Listen up chumpstain, we’ve already been down this road as recently as the last edition of Saturday Savage. You and everyone else want to call Rob predictable for selecting me first… Do you all not realize how fucking

you sound by that mere notion? Collectively we’re UNSTOPPABLE. Why wouldn’t Robert pick me? Fucking moron.”

” Let’s not forget that collectively we’re the XWF Tag TEAM Champions and let’s not forget War Games pits a TEAM together; are you smart enough to see the trend we’re going here? I like to win, Chris Page in a winner.”

Chris quickly interjects.

” No Robert, I’m overrated. Remember?”

” Kind of like Shawn I get it, Chris…Carnes, you can continue this myth that you mean anything in this federation and we’re going to continue this reality that we ARE this federation.”

” If Michael Graves is the strong link to this team then why are we wasting our time dealing with everyone else? It’s safe to say whoever makes the finals off Team Carnes will only be sniffing the Main Event spotlight for as long as we allow them to be involved in it.”

” I mean that is a good point.”

” Graves’s body is already in our collection; don’t you remember how he protected Vita a while back?”

” Ah yeah, that’s right we have dropped him already.”

”I know we’ve dropped for people than Polio but all the more reason to do it again, this time legally.”

” Oh and Michael, you want to know why I picked Chris over you? I don’t roll with fucking underachieving has-beens…”

” He prefers overrated has-beens, we tend to run circles around everyone else.”

” It’s what we do. Chris and I are in this for ourselves and Alexei we’re in this to further stick it to Theo and Vinnie. It takes a lot of balls to step to the plate week after week professing to be second to none and then backing it up with anyone that bothers to put pen to paper and face us. We’ve made no mistake about it that we are coming to Wargames to rip ass and take names while taking the level of destructiveness to a level that none of you ever thought was possible, and yet you’re all too fucking simple-minded and pay attention.”

” We know that all eyes are on us and we know that we’ve got the two of biggest bullseyes on our backs because beating us actually means something around here. This is the environment in which we thrive, there’s a reason why we’ve stolen the show every time we’ve stepped foot inside a ring or graced a show with our mere presence… And we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

” But we’re oversold and we’re carrying a liquidated division.”

” Yet we have a standing open challenge to any team that wants a try to take the belts away from us… yet none of you signs the dotted line, but love to talk shit about it… Funny how that works out.”

” Speaking of funny how things work out, correct me if I am wrong but didn’t just about everyone slams my choice in teammates only for all of my team bother to cut promos for this fucking thing while four teams are going to be filled with scabs because all of you didn’t bother to promo for this?

” Even fucking Low Mo wasted three minutes of my time.”

” Three minutes more than nine others that just flat out didn’t give a fuck.”

” Why don’t you enlighten all the ignorant fucks why you handpicked who you handpicked

” First pick was a no brainer; we don’t need to run your credentials nor provide a story for why I picked you. Chris Page is a national treasure who more than holds his weight in any given situation. He’s cold, he’s methodical and he’s precise with every move he makes.”

” And I’m overrated.”

” We do have to talk about the elephant in the room.”

” Dude you didn’t tell me Shawn’s mom was coming.”

” I’m talking about Thunder Cunt, I mean Thunder Knuckles.” Chris rolls his eyes. ” Rumor has it he’s accepted an offer to lay down in the first of two of our encounters for War Games. Allow me to firmly address this here and now by simply saying I don’t need Thunder Knuckles in the finals when I’ve got Chris Page and Alexei standing right beside me.”

” Bro that was last week, he isn’t diving.”

”Oh yeah… With or without Thunder Knuckles in the equation doesn’t affect the result and that result sees Team Cataclysm standing tall while further establishing why we are the measuring sticks and the rest of you are just supporting casts.”

”Goddamn it’s good to be kings.”]]> <![CDATA[The Wizard is Ready!]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37125 Sat, 30 May 2020 10:53:53 -0700 thewizard]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37125
But First.

Work.

The malaise of another work day blending in with all the rest. That blue vest. That conditioned response. That half-hearted smile. And, yes, that shitty pay. Gotta make ends meet, right? Barely.

I applied for the electronic department yet somehow found myself directing lost customers in and around aisles containing hygienic products. Not that I’m devoid of hygiene. I just never found myself debating the minute differences between various types of deodorants, shampoos, and paste for teeth. Not to mention loofahs.

Ugh, loofahs.

I longed for the pre-loofah days. They were so...simple.

“You have any blue ones?” a woman probably but not likely named Karen asked.

“Uhm,” I replied. I needed to act sure despite residing south of uncertainty.

“It’s a simple question?” the woman fired back before allowing me an opportunity to follow up my sound of confusion.

“I think these are all the loofahs we have…” I mean, I was pretty sure. I wasn’t entirely convinced. But common sense told me, regardless of how big the store was, loofahs wouldn’t occupy a space larger than a squared section in a singular aisle.

“You think? Aren’t you supposed to know?” She was getting testy. Loofahs were very important to this woman.

I pointed at the small, squared section containing loofahs. It was my silent, non-confrontational way of informing the soon-to-be apoplectic woman that particular area was the extent of our loofah inventory. She huffed. She stomped her foot.

“Are you mute?”

No. I was and remain, to this day, a person capable of speech. I was simply attempting to prevent the situation from escalating. Which, in a weird way, seemed to gaslight her fury.

“Well, this is totally unacceptable. Why can’t you give me a straight answer? Are you stupid? All I need is a blue loofah!”

I didn’t understand why she had to have a blue loofah. What was wrong with peach? Pink? Purple? Beige? WHY BLUE?

“That’s it, I’d like to speak with your manager.”

And there it was. The rumors were true. Stereotypes exist for a reason, people.

“He’s at lunch.”

The woman’s eyes flared. Flames shot from her nostrils. Shit got real.

It was one in a number of lamentable instances I dealt with on a daily basis. Yes, my job sucked. I suppose that’s the norm for most people in this prison we call society. A society where petulance is rewarded. As evidenced by the box of loofahs in my backseat. Loofahs that were tossed to the floor by the angry woman. Loofahs that were considered contaminated by the store. Loofahs that came out of my impending paycheck. Loofahs that were now, somehow, mine.

Work can sometimes break an individual. As human beings, we need an outlet. A realm in which we make decisions. We take charge. A realm where we enjoy a form of control.

I had my realm.

The Woods of Elderdom.

“Guile’s Theme” cranked up inside my apartment as I slid those gray stockings over my legs. I threw on my gray robe. Slipped on those gray shoes. Attached my magical, gray beard. I threw on my gray hat and snared the mystical staff.

Staring into the mirror, I swelled with pride. I was no longer a low-level employee. I was The Wizard.

-----

Marching through the Woods of Elderdom The Wizard carried his staff along with a box of loofahs. He located his favorite tree named Jamal.

“Hello, Jamal. A fine evening, isn’t it?” The Wizard spoke while staring into the sky contaminated by manufactured clouds. A few stars remained visible. The ones which shone brightest.

“What’s that, Jamal?” Jamal’s branches swayed in the night breeze. “Ah yes, the stars are a metaphor for WarGames. Good call, brother Jamal. Only the strongest, the brightest will receive recognition at XWF’s WarGames. You truly are an observant tree.”

The Wizard dumped the loofahs out at Jamal’s base. He picked through them with his feet, kicking and knocking them around. A pause and a sigh later, he looked at Jamal with more than a hint of irritation.

“NO, Jamal. We do NOT have any blue ones? Geez. What’s so great about a blue loofah, anyway?”

Jamal seemed to groan as The Wizard slipped a loofah over his lowest branch. “Oh be quiet, Jamal. I’m doing this to mark the quickest, most efficient route to safety should another dangerous situation arise.” He paused, checking out the work. “Besides, it gives you character. Some might even call it panache.”

Jamal’s protesting ceased. The Wizard tossed the loofahs back in the box and walked down his favorite trail, placing loofahs around low hanging branches in a concerted effort to mark the getaway trek.

The spacing increased the further he went. The Wizard hadn’t really done any math on how many loofahs it might take to cover every branch along the way. So, as the box emptied and the path continued, he realized he may have been a bit too generous early on. It was a tenuous moment of brevity. Reaching the end, the number of loofahs sufficed. A final, beige loofah found its way along the branch of a small tree.

Casting a gleaming eye backward, The Wizard tossed a nod of achievement. He was proud of his work. The trees all seemed to wave their loofahs at him.

“You’re welcome, friends.”

And then, noise. Corruption. The Woods of Elderdom’s serenity soiled. The Wizard spun around, gripping his mystical staff. His eyes narrowed. His beard wiggled.

“They’re back.”

-------

It’s tough facing a stacked deck. Sure, I have a team. YES, I KNOW THIS. But, do I REALLY have a team? We’re called Team MishMash for fuckling’s sake. It doesn’t exactly SCREAM cohesion.

I’m an unknown. An unfamiliar face. Difficult to trust. Easy to betray.

Yes, these are truths. Truths that evolve into the longest of odds.

But that’s okay.

Because I’m The Wizard.

A Wizard has MANY tricks. An entire bag, some might say. When facing my treacherous foes, I’ll deploy the art of MISDIRECTION. It’ll have Hanari Carnes’ head on a swivel.

Hanari Carnes. The name of a tryhard, in my humble, wizardly opinion.

If placed in a situation where I’m outnumbered, I’ll outrun my opponents, much like former cowboy star Felix Jones would outrun the competition en route to a 100+ yard kick off return. There’s no way Boris or Red X could keep up with my CAT-LIKE speed.

Should the situation arise where I’m surrounded and hopelessly outgunned, then I may be forced to utilize some of my magical powers by creating a giant cloud of MYST. With enough myst I should be able to confuse my opponents enough to regain the upper hand. Keep in mind this would only be used in the Gravest of situations.

And, oh, I don’t know, if some weirdo named Liam came my way I might rape his ear canals with the horrific music of Martina McBride. Perhaps the deadliest weapon of all.

All of these tricks. All of these tactics. All of these weapons thrust forward and dedicated to vanquishing each and every member of the opposition until one remains – MASTERMIND.

THAT’S RIGHT MASTERMIND.

The people that run XWF aren’t stupid. It’s no coincidence that I’ve been placed on the team opposite yours. They are going to give all the WIZARD FANS what they desire...a beatdown. I’M COMING FOR YOU MASTERMIND. YOUR MIND WILL BE MASTERED. I WILL REDUCE THAT MASTERFUL BRAIN OF YOURS INTO A HIDEOUS PILE OF MUSH. When this is all over you will no longer be called MASTERMIND. Instead, people will refer to you as…

…

…

MASTERBATOR

…

…

Okay, so that was lame. But you get the point. MASTERMIND, I’M GONNA KNOCK ALL THAT MASTERY OUT OF YOUR BRAIN.

WarGames. The Nation’s Capital. THE WHITE HOUSE. It’s all a tremendous setting for a breakout performance. Team MishMash may be a hodgepodge of unaligned personalities, but that isn’t necessarily a recipe for disaster. Sometimes the greatest triumphs stem from impromptu hookups.

And, even IF teamwork boils down into a dilapidated mess...the beauty of WarGames is that, when push comes to shove, we...as individuals, control our own fate. SO...Team MishMash...Team...can’t remember the name, so we’re going to go with Mastermind...TEAM MASTERMIND...and everybody else competing in WarGames...get ready, because The Wizard won’t go down without a fight.

I’ll be appearing in Washington DC ready to fight. The rest of you psychos had better do the same...ESPECIALLY YOU MASTERMIND.

---

Indeed, they were back. The teenagers from over a week ago, back for revenge. Teenagers don’t like getting arrested. They REALLY don’t like being punished by their parents due to said arrest. So, they naturally lust for revenge. The Wizard, standing atop the hill, staring down at the very spot of their previous crimes and transgressions, noticed ten high school-aged boys.

They were pounding beers. They were holding weapons. They were firing one another up. A beating was brewing.

#WizardLivesMatter?

Apparently not outside the Woods of Elderdom.

“I’m six nine and four hundred twenty pounds,” The Wizard spoke to himself. It was an attempt at rationalizing remaining in position, taking them all on. “Myst, Cat Like Speed, Misdirection, the shitty music of Martina McBride...I have many tools. But...will they be enough?”

While the Wizard contemplated his options...his move was made for him.

“THERE’S THAT BITCH!”

All ten high schoolers stared up the hill at The Wizard.

“LET’S KICK HIS ASS!”

They charged the hill, weapons in hand. The Wizard turned and ran. He followed the Loofahs, feeling great relief he hadn’t allowed procrastination to bite him in the ass.

Through the woods The Wizard ran, keeping his eyes ahead, making sure he was following the trail of loofahs...a trail that would lead him to safety. The Woods of Elderdom, while completely familiar to the Wizard, contained a mysterious aura. An aura capable of confusing even the most knowledgable inhabitant.

And while The Wizard loved solving puzzles. While he was and remains a fan of the occasional maze. That night was no night for deviation. It was no night for dilly-dallying. It was a night for haste. And haste was made.

His giant, lumbering frame reached the enormous roots of Jamal. Pausing, The Wizard extended his long, giant arm, placing the silky smooth skin of his palm against the rough bark that comprised Jamal’s weathered exterior. He panted. He doubled over. He looked under his arm, at the trail of loofahs behind him. Silent. Vacant. Nothing.

“Whew,” he uttered. A word sandwiched between pants. “That was a close one, Jamal. It’s a good thing I marked that trail, otherwise -”

“Hey, dickbag!”

The Wizard’s moment of victory was stolen like a game-winning touchdown pass called back due to the bullshit that is instant replay. Standing upright, the hair on the back of his neck danced. His eyes widened. “Impossible,” he thought to himself. How could these cretins...these children know The Woods of Elderdom well enough to catch him.

Slowly, he turned. His eyes caught the teens and, his answer. They were holding loofahs.

“Thanks for marking the trail, dumbass,” one of the teens mocked.

“Yea, I thought Wizards were supposed to be smart,” another chimed in.

“And who the fuck marks shit with these things anyway? Did you steal these from your MOM?”

They howled with laughter.

The Wizard’s pride impinged, he began to swing his staff, hoping the act might turn them away.

It didn’t.

A loofah was tossed at The Wizard. Displaying shockingly quick reflexes, he smacked the loofah to the side using his staff. The teens’ laughter subsided. They threw another at him...again, he smacked it away. Then another – the same result. And another – resulting in the same conclusion. And, finally, a fifth loofah was hurled in his direction...with a spin, The Wizard’s sebaceous gut shook to-and-fro as his staff knifed through the thick air, slapping the loofah into the darkness.

In victory, he raised his staff. Five loofahs, all defeated. A great omen heading into WarGames. For a moment...however brief, he forgot about his current plight, directing all of his focus onto achieving victory at WarGames.

And, just like WarGames, initial victory was only temporary. Increased danger awaited in the form of other survivors.

Or, in the case of his current plight, increased danger manifested itself in the form of A BUNCH OF OTHER LOOFAHS.

They slammed into The Wizard’s body, sending the giant man stumbling backward. The teens, loofah-drained, looked at one another as if wondering, “Why are we throwing these things at this guy?”

And, more importantly…“WHY IS IT WORKING?”

In an attempt to regain control of their burgeoning masculinity, the teens raised their initial weapons and charged at the off-balanced Wizard. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed, seeing a certifiable beatdown charging his way. Turning, he took off...this time without the aid of loofahs to guide his way.

He burst through branches. He stumbled over roots. He stepped on tiny creatures. The Woods of Elderdom was left bruised and battered with The Wizard crashing his way toward an escape.

The teens remained hot on his trail.

His shaky vision detected nothing but darkness. The voices, the footsteps...they drew closer. The Wizard knew he didn’t have much time. Soon they would be on him...soon they would unleash their juvenile anger upon him...soon his hopes for success at WarGames would be dashed.

Would his legs give out? The weight of 420 pounds is quite the burden for two legs to bear, no matter how thick. It seemed only a matter of time at that point. The Wizard would be caught, barring a miracle.

A MIRACLE IN THE FORM OF A CHEVRON SIGN.

There it was! Breaking through the darkness like a ray of light from the heavens! The Wizard was being called home...called to safety from the hellish consequences that awaited mortality.

With grit and determination, The Wizard convinced his aching, tired body to sustain. A few more steps. There was no way those kids could do TOO much harm to him in the parking lot of a well-lit gas station. Plus, if he did take a beating he could stumble inside and purchase some Slim Jims. So, not a total loss.

He picked up speed. His legs moved quicker than ever before. They trounced the ground with reckless abandon. He was nearly there. Freedom stood a few steps away.

A hand pawed at his back. OH SHIT...they were within arm’s reach. C’MON WIZARD, ONE MORE STEP!

He lunged forward and TRIPPED! The Wizard’s giant body face planted into the ground! OH NO!

A blessing in disguise! His body acted as a giant speed bump. The teens had no opportunity to stop...they all tripped over his massive frame, flying through the air and tumbling down the hill which fed into the gas station parking lot. Like boulders tumbling down the side of a mountain...they bumped and tumbled, rocked, and rumbled.

Only a sturdy force could bring an end to their tumultuous pain and suffering.

BOOM

They SLAMMED right into the side of a parked vehicle. All ten of them within seconds...BAM, BANG, CRASH, SMASH!

And then, silence. Followed immediately by groans and ‘what the fucks’. Their backs, legs, arms, and heads ached from the unexpected fall and subsequent crash.

One by one, they sat up, half feeling the unforgiving metal pressed against the back of their heads and necks. The other half facing the steel beast. A white bodied mechanism with blue and red flashing lights at its apex.

“Ah shit!” one of the teens blurted. Both doors opened, one easier than the other, its protrusion shoved a teen forward. Two uniformed officers hit the ground with their shiny boots. Within seconds they towered over the group of disheveled teens.

One spat. The other grabbed the buckle of his belt. They looked at one another before grabbing their cuffs and going to work.

The teens begged and pleaded. But, to no avail. Another night in jail was their collective, immediate futures.

In the distance, The Wizard stood, looking down upon his great fortune. A smile found its way through his amazing beard, which wiggled in an evening breeze. The realization hit. Victory can come in many forms – practice, hard work, talent, and, in this case, luck.

Before the cops had a chance to spot him, he spun around and marched through The Woods of Elderdom, eventually locating the pile of loofahs at Jamal’s base.

“You should have seen it, Jamal! One by one I took them out!” Jamal wasn’t buying The Wizard’s sophistry. “You know me too well, Jamal,” he removed the proud facade, “truth be told, tonight, it was The Woods of Elderdom that protected its protector.”

Leaning forward, he hugged the trunk of Jamal, saying, “No homo.”

Releasing the hug he looked around, taking in the night air and the sound of evening activity, which included sirens in the distance. “I’m going on a journey, Jamal. I won’t be gone long, but you guys will have to look after yourselves for a few days. If this journey bears fruit, we’ll all benefit.”

At that moment, The Wizard knew he was ready. There was nothing left in which to prepare. WarGames would receive his best shot. It’s all a man – all a Wizard could hope to provide.

Get ready, XWF. The Wizard has arrived. Bask in his aura.]]>
But First.

Work.

The malaise of another work day blending in with all the rest. That blue vest. That conditioned response. That half-hearted smile. And, yes, that shitty pay. Gotta make ends meet, right? Barely.

I applied for the electronic department yet somehow found myself directing lost customers in and around aisles containing hygienic products. Not that I’m devoid of hygiene. I just never found myself debating the minute differences between various types of deodorants, shampoos, and paste for teeth. Not to mention loofahs.

Ugh, loofahs.

I longed for the pre-loofah days. They were so...simple.

“You have any blue ones?” a woman probably but not likely named Karen asked.

“Uhm,” I replied. I needed to act sure despite residing south of uncertainty.

“It’s a simple question?” the woman fired back before allowing me an opportunity to follow up my sound of confusion.

“I think these are all the loofahs we have…” I mean, I was pretty sure. I wasn’t entirely convinced. But common sense told me, regardless of how big the store was, loofahs wouldn’t occupy a space larger than a squared section in a singular aisle.

“You think? Aren’t you supposed to know?” She was getting testy. Loofahs were very important to this woman.

I pointed at the small, squared section containing loofahs. It was my silent, non-confrontational way of informing the soon-to-be apoplectic woman that particular area was the extent of our loofah inventory. She huffed. She stomped her foot.

“Are you mute?”

No. I was and remain, to this day, a person capable of speech. I was simply attempting to prevent the situation from escalating. Which, in a weird way, seemed to gaslight her fury.

“Well, this is totally unacceptable. Why can’t you give me a straight answer? Are you stupid? All I need is a blue loofah!”

I didn’t understand why she had to have a blue loofah. What was wrong with peach? Pink? Purple? Beige? WHY BLUE?

“That’s it, I’d like to speak with your manager.”

And there it was. The rumors were true. Stereotypes exist for a reason, people.

“He’s at lunch.”

The woman’s eyes flared. Flames shot from her nostrils. Shit got real.

It was one in a number of lamentable instances I dealt with on a daily basis. Yes, my job sucked. I suppose that’s the norm for most people in this prison we call society. A society where petulance is rewarded. As evidenced by the box of loofahs in my backseat. Loofahs that were tossed to the floor by the angry woman. Loofahs that were considered contaminated by the store. Loofahs that came out of my impending paycheck. Loofahs that were now, somehow, mine.

Work can sometimes break an individual. As human beings, we need an outlet. A realm in which we make decisions. We take charge. A realm where we enjoy a form of control.

I had my realm.

The Woods of Elderdom.

“Guile’s Theme” cranked up inside my apartment as I slid those gray stockings over my legs. I threw on my gray robe. Slipped on those gray shoes. Attached my magical, gray beard. I threw on my gray hat and snared the mystical staff.

Staring into the mirror, I swelled with pride. I was no longer a low-level employee. I was The Wizard.

-----

Marching through the Woods of Elderdom The Wizard carried his staff along with a box of loofahs. He located his favorite tree named Jamal.

“Hello, Jamal. A fine evening, isn’t it?” The Wizard spoke while staring into the sky contaminated by manufactured clouds. A few stars remained visible. The ones which shone brightest.

“What’s that, Jamal?” Jamal’s branches swayed in the night breeze. “Ah yes, the stars are a metaphor for WarGames. Good call, brother Jamal. Only the strongest, the brightest will receive recognition at XWF’s WarGames. You truly are an observant tree.”

The Wizard dumped the loofahs out at Jamal’s base. He picked through them with his feet, kicking and knocking them around. A pause and a sigh later, he looked at Jamal with more than a hint of irritation.

“NO, Jamal. We do NOT have any blue ones? Geez. What’s so great about a blue loofah, anyway?”

Jamal seemed to groan as The Wizard slipped a loofah over his lowest branch. “Oh be quiet, Jamal. I’m doing this to mark the quickest, most efficient route to safety should another dangerous situation arise.” He paused, checking out the work. “Besides, it gives you character. Some might even call it panache.”

Jamal’s protesting ceased. The Wizard tossed the loofahs back in the box and walked down his favorite trail, placing loofahs around low hanging branches in a concerted effort to mark the getaway trek.

The spacing increased the further he went. The Wizard hadn’t really done any math on how many loofahs it might take to cover every branch along the way. So, as the box emptied and the path continued, he realized he may have been a bit too generous early on. It was a tenuous moment of brevity. Reaching the end, the number of loofahs sufficed. A final, beige loofah found its way along the branch of a small tree.

Casting a gleaming eye backward, The Wizard tossed a nod of achievement. He was proud of his work. The trees all seemed to wave their loofahs at him.

“You’re welcome, friends.”

And then, noise. Corruption. The Woods of Elderdom’s serenity soiled. The Wizard spun around, gripping his mystical staff. His eyes narrowed. His beard wiggled.

“They’re back.”

-------

It’s tough facing a stacked deck. Sure, I have a team. YES, I KNOW THIS. But, do I REALLY have a team? We’re called Team MishMash for fuckling’s sake. It doesn’t exactly SCREAM cohesion.

I’m an unknown. An unfamiliar face. Difficult to trust. Easy to betray.

Yes, these are truths. Truths that evolve into the longest of odds.

But that’s okay.

Because I’m The Wizard.

A Wizard has MANY tricks. An entire bag, some might say. When facing my treacherous foes, I’ll deploy the art of MISDIRECTION. It’ll have Hanari Carnes’ head on a swivel.

Hanari Carnes. The name of a tryhard, in my humble, wizardly opinion.

If placed in a situation where I’m outnumbered, I’ll outrun my opponents, much like former cowboy star Felix Jones would outrun the competition en route to a 100+ yard kick off return. There’s no way Boris or Red X could keep up with my CAT-LIKE speed.

Should the situation arise where I’m surrounded and hopelessly outgunned, then I may be forced to utilize some of my magical powers by creating a giant cloud of MYST. With enough myst I should be able to confuse my opponents enough to regain the upper hand. Keep in mind this would only be used in the Gravest of situations.

And, oh, I don’t know, if some weirdo named Liam came my way I might rape his ear canals with the horrific music of Martina McBride. Perhaps the deadliest weapon of all.

All of these tricks. All of these tactics. All of these weapons thrust forward and dedicated to vanquishing each and every member of the opposition until one remains – MASTERMIND.

THAT’S RIGHT MASTERMIND.

The people that run XWF aren’t stupid. It’s no coincidence that I’ve been placed on the team opposite yours. They are going to give all the WIZARD FANS what they desire...a beatdown. I’M COMING FOR YOU MASTERMIND. YOUR MIND WILL BE MASTERED. I WILL REDUCE THAT MASTERFUL BRAIN OF YOURS INTO A HIDEOUS PILE OF MUSH. When this is all over you will no longer be called MASTERMIND. Instead, people will refer to you as…

…

…

MASTERBATOR

…

…

Okay, so that was lame. But you get the point. MASTERMIND, I’M GONNA KNOCK ALL THAT MASTERY OUT OF YOUR BRAIN.

WarGames. The Nation’s Capital. THE WHITE HOUSE. It’s all a tremendous setting for a breakout performance. Team MishMash may be a hodgepodge of unaligned personalities, but that isn’t necessarily a recipe for disaster. Sometimes the greatest triumphs stem from impromptu hookups.

And, even IF teamwork boils down into a dilapidated mess...the beauty of WarGames is that, when push comes to shove, we...as individuals, control our own fate. SO...Team MishMash...Team...can’t remember the name, so we’re going to go with Mastermind...TEAM MASTERMIND...and everybody else competing in WarGames...get ready, because The Wizard won’t go down without a fight.

I’ll be appearing in Washington DC ready to fight. The rest of you psychos had better do the same...ESPECIALLY YOU MASTERMIND.

---

Indeed, they were back. The teenagers from over a week ago, back for revenge. Teenagers don’t like getting arrested. They REALLY don’t like being punished by their parents due to said arrest. So, they naturally lust for revenge. The Wizard, standing atop the hill, staring down at the very spot of their previous crimes and transgressions, noticed ten high school-aged boys.

They were pounding beers. They were holding weapons. They were firing one another up. A beating was brewing.

#WizardLivesMatter?

Apparently not outside the Woods of Elderdom.

“I’m six nine and four hundred twenty pounds,” The Wizard spoke to himself. It was an attempt at rationalizing remaining in position, taking them all on. “Myst, Cat Like Speed, Misdirection, the shitty music of Martina McBride...I have many tools. But...will they be enough?”

While the Wizard contemplated his options...his move was made for him.

“THERE’S THAT BITCH!”

All ten high schoolers stared up the hill at The Wizard.

“LET’S KICK HIS ASS!”

They charged the hill, weapons in hand. The Wizard turned and ran. He followed the Loofahs, feeling great relief he hadn’t allowed procrastination to bite him in the ass.

Through the woods The Wizard ran, keeping his eyes ahead, making sure he was following the trail of loofahs...a trail that would lead him to safety. The Woods of Elderdom, while completely familiar to the Wizard, contained a mysterious aura. An aura capable of confusing even the most knowledgable inhabitant.

And while The Wizard loved solving puzzles. While he was and remains a fan of the occasional maze. That night was no night for deviation. It was no night for dilly-dallying. It was a night for haste. And haste was made.

His giant, lumbering frame reached the enormous roots of Jamal. Pausing, The Wizard extended his long, giant arm, placing the silky smooth skin of his palm against the rough bark that comprised Jamal’s weathered exterior. He panted. He doubled over. He looked under his arm, at the trail of loofahs behind him. Silent. Vacant. Nothing.

“Whew,” he uttered. A word sandwiched between pants. “That was a close one, Jamal. It’s a good thing I marked that trail, otherwise -”

“Hey, dickbag!”

The Wizard’s moment of victory was stolen like a game-winning touchdown pass called back due to the bullshit that is instant replay. Standing upright, the hair on the back of his neck danced. His eyes widened. “Impossible,” he thought to himself. How could these cretins...these children know The Woods of Elderdom well enough to catch him.

Slowly, he turned. His eyes caught the teens and, his answer. They were holding loofahs.

“Thanks for marking the trail, dumbass,” one of the teens mocked.

“Yea, I thought Wizards were supposed to be smart,” another chimed in.

“And who the fuck marks shit with these things anyway? Did you steal these from your MOM?”

They howled with laughter.

The Wizard’s pride impinged, he began to swing his staff, hoping the act might turn them away.

It didn’t.

A loofah was tossed at The Wizard. Displaying shockingly quick reflexes, he smacked the loofah to the side using his staff. The teens’ laughter subsided. They threw another at him...again, he smacked it away. Then another – the same result. And another – resulting in the same conclusion. And, finally, a fifth loofah was hurled in his direction...with a spin, The Wizard’s sebaceous gut shook to-and-fro as his staff knifed through the thick air, slapping the loofah into the darkness.

In victory, he raised his staff. Five loofahs, all defeated. A great omen heading into WarGames. For a moment...however brief, he forgot about his current plight, directing all of his focus onto achieving victory at WarGames.

And, just like WarGames, initial victory was only temporary. Increased danger awaited in the form of other survivors.

Or, in the case of his current plight, increased danger manifested itself in the form of A BUNCH OF OTHER LOOFAHS.

They slammed into The Wizard’s body, sending the giant man stumbling backward. The teens, loofah-drained, looked at one another as if wondering, “Why are we throwing these things at this guy?”

And, more importantly…“WHY IS IT WORKING?”

In an attempt to regain control of their burgeoning masculinity, the teens raised their initial weapons and charged at the off-balanced Wizard. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed, seeing a certifiable beatdown charging his way. Turning, he took off...this time without the aid of loofahs to guide his way.

He burst through branches. He stumbled over roots. He stepped on tiny creatures. The Woods of Elderdom was left bruised and battered with The Wizard crashing his way toward an escape.

The teens remained hot on his trail.

His shaky vision detected nothing but darkness. The voices, the footsteps...they drew closer. The Wizard knew he didn’t have much time. Soon they would be on him...soon they would unleash their juvenile anger upon him...soon his hopes for success at WarGames would be dashed.

Would his legs give out? The weight of 420 pounds is quite the burden for two legs to bear, no matter how thick. It seemed only a matter of time at that point. The Wizard would be caught, barring a miracle.

A MIRACLE IN THE FORM OF A CHEVRON SIGN.

There it was! Breaking through the darkness like a ray of light from the heavens! The Wizard was being called home...called to safety from the hellish consequences that awaited mortality.

With grit and determination, The Wizard convinced his aching, tired body to sustain. A few more steps. There was no way those kids could do TOO much harm to him in the parking lot of a well-lit gas station. Plus, if he did take a beating he could stumble inside and purchase some Slim Jims. So, not a total loss.

He picked up speed. His legs moved quicker than ever before. They trounced the ground with reckless abandon. He was nearly there. Freedom stood a few steps away.

A hand pawed at his back. OH SHIT...they were within arm’s reach. C’MON WIZARD, ONE MORE STEP!

He lunged forward and TRIPPED! The Wizard’s giant body face planted into the ground! OH NO!

A blessing in disguise! His body acted as a giant speed bump. The teens had no opportunity to stop...they all tripped over his massive frame, flying through the air and tumbling down the hill which fed into the gas station parking lot. Like boulders tumbling down the side of a mountain...they bumped and tumbled, rocked, and rumbled.

Only a sturdy force could bring an end to their tumultuous pain and suffering.

BOOM

They SLAMMED right into the side of a parked vehicle. All ten of them within seconds...BAM, BANG, CRASH, SMASH!

And then, silence. Followed immediately by groans and ‘what the fucks’. Their backs, legs, arms, and heads ached from the unexpected fall and subsequent crash.

One by one, they sat up, half feeling the unforgiving metal pressed against the back of their heads and necks. The other half facing the steel beast. A white bodied mechanism with blue and red flashing lights at its apex.

“Ah shit!” one of the teens blurted. Both doors opened, one easier than the other, its protrusion shoved a teen forward. Two uniformed officers hit the ground with their shiny boots. Within seconds they towered over the group of disheveled teens.

One spat. The other grabbed the buckle of his belt. They looked at one another before grabbing their cuffs and going to work.

The teens begged and pleaded. But, to no avail. Another night in jail was their collective, immediate futures.

In the distance, The Wizard stood, looking down upon his great fortune. A smile found its way through his amazing beard, which wiggled in an evening breeze. The realization hit. Victory can come in many forms – practice, hard work, talent, and, in this case, luck.

Before the cops had a chance to spot him, he spun around and marched through The Woods of Elderdom, eventually locating the pile of loofahs at Jamal’s base.

“You should have seen it, Jamal! One by one I took them out!” Jamal wasn’t buying The Wizard’s sophistry. “You know me too well, Jamal,” he removed the proud facade, “truth be told, tonight, it was The Woods of Elderdom that protected its protector.”

Leaning forward, he hugged the trunk of Jamal, saying, “No homo.”

Releasing the hug he looked around, taking in the night air and the sound of evening activity, which included sirens in the distance. “I’m going on a journey, Jamal. I won’t be gone long, but you guys will have to look after yourselves for a few days. If this journey bears fruit, we’ll all benefit.”

At that moment, The Wizard knew he was ready. There was nothing left in which to prepare. WarGames would receive his best shot. It’s all a man – all a Wizard could hope to provide.

Get ready, XWF. The Wizard has arrived. Bask in his aura.]]> <![CDATA[GRAVES TO THE GRAVE!]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37124 Sat, 30 May 2020 07:49:22 -0700 (Gravy_Xtreme_5000)]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=37124

”You wanna know what’s worse than watching Mastermind babble on and on about nothing in those shitstain “promos” he puts out? Being trapped on a Goddamned private jet with the fucker for THIRTEEN FUCKING HOURS!!! Oh yeah, think that’s bad? I forgot to mention that he brought the entire black hole of fun with him. Speaking of, did that fucking Van Peter's mother fucker hit me with his hammer?”

No Micheal, Kris “The Hammer” Von Bon did not strike you with his weapon of choice, but you were struck indeed, by Mastermind himself, no less. Although judging by the look of you, perhaps answering your verbal question shouldn’t have taken precedence over the question that you’re subconsciously asking as I speak. That answer that that one, I’m afraid, isn’t likely to be one that you’d want to hear.

“Ugh... I don’t feel so well...”

I’d imagine not. You see Micheal, over the course of the past few hours, you’ve managed to slip in and out of consciousness for a total of 5 times. The odd part about this is the fact that every time you awaken, you seem to do so as a completely different personality than the last. It’s almost as though all of these entities are battling for control of your mind and body.

XWF PRESENTS!!

GRAVES TO THE GRAVE!!

The sky dark, the desolate land devoid of any signs of life. Except for the cries of sorrow that fill the night. Hundreds, maybe thousands of men, but none of them are in sight. Yet still, their sobs flood the air.

KA-FUCKING-BOOM!!

[Image: 7ucwd-447264-Full-Image-Gallery-Backgrou...SX1080.jpg]

MG: "Holy shit!"

Graves stands still, shocked by the huge explosion off in the distance. Micheal is mesmerized by the ball of fire that reaches into the heavens off into the distance. So much so that he doesn't notice the shadowy character that crept up behind him.

??: "It's amazing how many of them cling to the idea that they can someday regain control."

Micheal jumps, startled by the unexpected interruption. He turns around to greet his guest with raised fists, but as soon as he sets eyes on him, confusion sets in.

MG: "What sort of witchery is this!?"

Micheal Graves circa 1999

MG99: "Eh, so you're the newest reinvention huh?"

Graves studies the strange visitor up and down trying to make sense of what he's seeing.

MG: "Why is it that you look like me?"

Graves99 smirks as he realizes that the gravity of the situation escapes Graves.

MG99: "I look like you, Micheal, because I am you, and you are me."

Graves struggles with this revelation, but with nothing to say, he looks off to the distance where the explosion took place. The flames dance in the night sky as the sobs of thousands continue to fill the air.

MG: "What is this place?" He says as he continues to stare into the distance.

MG99: "This is no place, not in the physical sense anyway."

Graves turns his head, looking Graves99 right in the eye.

MG: "Explain yourself."

MG99: "This world and its people are not of the physical realm. Instead, this is the mental purgatory where all of your discarded identities stay locked away. Always fighting and destroying everyone and thing around them for a chance to regain control of our physical being. You've been here before, do you not remember?"

Graves observes his surroundings once more, looking for even a hint of familiarity.

MG: "I do not."

MG99: "Perhaps you've suppressed the memory of your time here? Most seem to look onto this place with the same fear as they would look onto Hell."

Micheal looks to Graves99, his muscles tense and his mind untrusting.

MG: "You said that all of the inhabitants of this place fight for control of my mortal body. If that's true, why have you not made a move yet?"

Graves99 lets out a hardy laugh.

MG99: "You need not worry about that with me. I have no desire to return to the realm of Xtreme."

MG: "Then tell me, how do I escape this place?"

MG99: "There is a portal of sorts. You must reach it before any of the others."

MG: "Then there's no time to waste! Point me towards this portal so that I may reclaim my mortal body and continue my mission!"

MG99: "I'm afraid it's too late."

Graves instantly turns to anger. Grabbing Graves99 by the leather belts that cross his chest and pulling him close. Through gritted teeth he ask.

MG: "What do you mean it's too late?"

Graves99 smiles a sly smile.

MG99: "Can't you feel it? Another has already stepped through."

Back in the land of reality, Micheal awakens, but not as the child-loving head-smashing misfit that we all know and love hate, but instead as an earlier personality.

MG: "Whoa, wicked ride!"

Micheal sits up in bed. Wait bed? What happened to the private jet?

Just then, Harari Carnes greets his newly awakened guest.

HC: "Ah, it's good to see you awake my friend."

Graves turns his attention to Hanari.

MG: "Friends?"

Micheal thinks hard on the subject. It's not the easiest task to call forth the memories of another, even if they share your body.

MG: "Where am I?"

[red]HC: "My villa, of course, do you not remember? Mastermind picked you up in Japan and brought you here."

MG: "I... I'm sorry, I'm just having trouble remembering some stuff."

HC: "I can imagine, and I would like to apologize for Mastermind's actions."

MG: "What did he do?"

Harari is caught off guard by that question. Did MM really hit him THAT hard?

HC: "It doesn't matter. What does matter is that you're here, and we have some things to discuss."

Hanari turns to exit the room. He pulls the door closed behind him, but peaks back in at the last second.

HC: "I must admit, you're not quite what I was expecting. Anyway, when you're feeling up to it, get dressed, and meet us downstairs."

Micheal nods and Hanari pulls the door closed.

Graves dresses in the black suit that Hanari apparently laid out from him. Convenient considering that his wrestling attire was burnt to ask upon reentry into the Earth's atmosphere. (see ME FIRST) And meets up with the rest of the group.

As Micheal walks out of the house, it's all eyes on him. Partially because he's a loose cannon, and partially because he looks sharp as fuck right now. A far cry from his typical discount Halloween store look.

MM: "Micheal..."

Mastermind says as he approaches the group.

MG: "Uh, hello? Who are you again?"

Daggers from the rest of team shit. None of them trust him and none of them want to share the ring with him. None of them that is, except for Hanari Carnes, who drafted Graves to this team. Hanari knew early on that he would rather the pychopedia brotanica of violence fight as part of his War Games team than against it. Presumably though his connection with Chris Chaos, he knew that Micheal's particular set of skills would come in handy for any team, and definitely wasn't something that he wanted to have to deal with standing on the opposing side.

HC: "Ah, Micheal, I'd glad you could join us."

Micheal just sort of nods, trying to be polite, but still unsure what is going on.

MG: "So what is this? Are we in some sort of stable together or something?"

Suddenly it's Carnes staring daggers at MM.

HC: "I told you, you hit him too hard!"

Graves tilts his head slightly to the side as those words leave Hanari's mouth.

MG: "Hit me too hard? What are you talking about?"

Hanari quickly backpedals, afraid that telling Graves what happened now may cost him another teammate. Something team shit just can't afford right now considering that they've already suffered the loss of one Zane Norrison, which honestly isn't even a big deal until you factor in the possibility of Red X weaseling his way on to the team and somehow making it an even bigger joke.

HC: "Nothing Micheal, nothing. you are among friends here. There was just a small accident on your way here. Mastermind may have accidentally struck you with a hammer."

Micheal looks to Mastermind, who is eyeballing him pretty hard. I suppose he's waiting for Graves to give him a reason to put him down again, but this isn't the same Graves that Mastermind thinks he knows.

MG: "I doubt it was an accident, but it's cool bro. I'm sure I deserved it."

The group look to each other, confused by the lack of intensity in Micheals's response.

MM: "Are you sure that you're well?"

MG: "Never felt better!"

Or in other words, he's just happy to be free from that hellish prison inside of his own head.

MM: "I think the hammer shot did him some good. He seems more agreeable now."

Yes MM, he is more agreeable, but this isn't the man that Hanari drafted. So it should come as no surprise when Hanari creeps up behind Graves with a golfclub.

SOMETIME LATER

"Close call! War Games was almost ruined when Mastermind decided to strike his own teammate down with a fucking hammer! See, this is just another reason as to why this team is so shit! In fighting? Do you see anyone from Robert Main's team trying to off one another with hand tools? Do you see crazy mindless Shane sheath trying to, okay, bad example? The point is, these fuckheads don't want to be called shit, but they damn sure aren't acting like a team that wants to win! Of course, why would they? We all know that the only reason that I was drafted into this team was so that I could carry their asses to the main event anyway. Who else here can withstand inhuman amounts of damage and still crack skulls as if they were watermelons? I'm the best Goddamned talent on this team, and they all know it! That's why Hanari struck me with that golf club. Because he doesn't need friends, he doesn't need an agreeable yes man, he needs a monster that will rip the flesh from his enemies and then suck the bones dry, and after Masterminds folly, he did what he had to do to bring ME back!"

"Now I'm sure you're all wondering how well team shit's going to hold it together at War Games. It should be fairly obvious that none of us really care for the other. Sure, they try to hide it, but how often do you really think that any combination of Carnes, MM, or Laim.. uh? Fuck it, let's just keep calling him Jelly Jam Face. So how often do you think those guys interact with one another outside of matches? If you said never, you'd be right. Even if this team wasn't complete shit, it's definitely a ragtag group of misfits that seemingly have nothing in common. It's almost like Hanari threw darts at pictures to decide his draft picks. The best part is that he STILL somehow managed to assemble a better team than Atari "where did she go?" Themis! This match right here marks the SECOND time that bitch has found a way to slither her way out of a schedule confrontation with me! Need I remind you all of the Savage a few weeks back where I was supposed to challenge her and FuZz for their respective titles? Do you guys remember the interactions for that? Where they would only give me the shots if I faced BOTH OF THEM in the same night. Separate matches of course, but same night. I give Atari a lot of shit, all of it deserved, but still a lot of shit, and you know what? I have to give her credit there. Because when those matches didn't happen. When management chose not to book what was definitely going to be a top-rated Savage when I walked out two titles richer, I knew the truth. I knew that Attacus Black and White didn't just randomly decide to ROB his show of this amazing night. I knew that someone had to have gone to him. Someone had to have begged for the matches NOT to take place. I figured it was both of those clowns, but looking at the recent history of the once "great" HA! Yeah right! Atari Themis, we see a woman who was handed a title that she couldn't hold on to. A woman who was handed a match with the legend James Raven, and just couldn't find the fortitude to step up to the challenge, and a woman who was handed her own team, but couldn't be bothered to put in the work."

"Does this sound like the type of person that you would want as captain? Does this sound like the type that could assemble a top-rated team? Obviously not, since most of them seem to have dropped out with her. Atari Themis has been handed everything that she's ever had in this company, and even so, she still finds a way to fuck it all up. Honestly, I'm thinking we have a new female Gilly. Maybe now we can give the real Gilly a break and direct some of that ridicule to someone who truly deserves it!"

"Somebody else that deserves a little ridicule is a guy who's known only as Big D. Fitting name since he's been nothing but a BIG Disappointment since day one! So obsessed over the idea of winning the Universal Title, that it's all he ever seems to talk about! You had your shot Big D, and you lost! Now that you're retired, how about just shutting that big yap of yours and fading into obscurity where you belong!"

"Oh wait, what's that you say? You're NOT retired? You're one of the mystery men that FuZz got saddled with against his will? How fitting that you would return to the ring to work War Games. Even more so that you would end up, sheerly by chance, as a member of the champs team? Just imagine if you do well. Get him to the Main Event. Win it all. Maybe he'll reward you with a title shot? One more chance for Big D to fall flat on his face and look foolish. Not that you can look any more foolish than you already do!"

"You admitted that you were too much of a pussy to meet me in the ring, and you went on to further prove it last Savage when you ran out of the ring like a scolded dog at the first sign of trouble. Still, you couldn't have landed on a better team had you tried, considering the fact that your fearless leader has been ducking me ever since he realized that him and his bitch were on the fast track to irrelevancy were they to go through with those title defenses!"

"You all need to realize something real quick. Micheal Graves doesn't run from a fight!"

"I'm not ducking that ! He just picked the most inopportune time he possibly could to throw down a challenge. After choking the life out of Thunder Knuckles last Savage, the match is set. Graves vs TK, TV title, and unless he also finds a way to duck me, you're looking at your NEW TV Champion! Maybe since he decided to go all Jesus freak and return my money, he'll actually make it to the main event and we can have a little preview of that match!"

"You're being awfully confident that you'll make it past me!!"

Graves looks to his left, the source of Ms. Directions' voice.

"You haven't told me to take a dive have you?"

"No, and I won't. Because the results of this event are pretty meaningless and do not further my plans in any way. So in other words, enjoy yourself."

A sadistic smile crawls onto Graves face as he turns back to the camera.

"Oh I will"]]>

“Ugh... I don’t feel so well...”

XWF PRESENTS!!

GRAVES TO THE GRAVE!!

KA-FUCKING-BOOM!!

Micheal Graves circa 1999

SOMETIME LATER