<![CDATA[X-treme Wrestling Federation - "CCPE Cannabis Cup 2022" RP Board]]> https://xwf1999.com/ Sat, 13 Jun 2026 05:59:43 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[Put a Condom on your Heart...]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44072 Thu, 21 Jul 2022 20:12:26 -0700 Candice Wolf]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44072 Put a Condom on your Heart...
[Image: voo9468.jpg]]]> Put a Condom on your Heart...
[Image: voo9468.jpg]]]> <![CDATA[A Day In The Life, Or My Life In One Day...]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44038 Sun, 10 Jul 2022 08:27:09 -0700 Peter Vaughn]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44038

The Road So Far:

A Spirited Opportunity

A Spirited Journey, P1

A Spirited Journey, P2

A Spirited Journey, P3


[Image: executive-summary.jpg]


Lately, Peter Vaughn has been put through the ringer. He lost his identity for a time to a virtual reality program, having to fight to reunite his mind and body. His mentor sacrificed himself to save Vaughn's life, which made Vaughn the new Head Custodian of the Custodial Coalition. He's fallen into the Down Below and battled sinister spirits while walking the Yellow Brick Road. Yes, you read that correctly. He's even had time in another organization to join his long-lost mother in working to bring down a devious underground criminal enterprise.

So, yeah, it's been a busy summer.

After all that, as well as successfully defending his XWF Supercontinental Title, it feels like Vaughn is due for a nice, quiet time in his life. But with the Cannabis Cup around the corner, it appears that things aren't going to slow down anytime soon...


NOW

~The only thought running through his mind at the moment is "Run". There is nothing else that he can do. No other option has presented itself.~

~The flames begin to creep around the corners of the room, as the explosions go off in slow motion, following a chain sequence, one after the other... ~

~He runs. Step after step. Pushing off the balls of his feet to get the strongest sprint of his life. But it's a race he's destined to lose. He knows this to be true. But he still refuses to accept it.~

~The explosions are beginning to join together into a wall of fire, erupting forward, seeking the easiest passage straight down the hallway. Any doors passed that haven't been blown up yet smash inwards off their hinges. The wall of flame... is gaining... ~

~He runs. What other option is there? The only thing he can see is the window up ahead, a standing frame placed at the end of the hallway in case anyone wanted a scenic view of New York. He calls upon whatever reserves he has left to run... faster... ~

~Paint blisters on the walls seconds before they cave in, unable to withstand the pressure of the explosions. The force shakes the building, even as it's channeled straight ahead. Another explosion comes from the floor level, shattering the ground that was just stood upon.~

~He turns. It's a spin that might remind you of the Tasmanian Devil from your youth, or, more accurately, like an Olympic hammer throw specialist going for the greatest distance. The bag he's carrying comes with him, and after the spin is complete, it's launched forward. If the window is reinforced, this will not work, and the odds of success drop from minimal to nonexistent. But it DOES succeed, as the glass shatters outwards, the edges glinting in the sun for a moment before starting their descent below.~

~The inferno moves as if it has a mind of its own. It is devouring the ground between them at a frantic pace, even in slow motion. There is almost no time left before the distance between the two will be zero.~

~He leaps, getting as much power behind his legs as possible. As the flames close in, he flies through the now-open window, unable to avoid all the shards of glass still sticking out from the frame. It is a sacrifice freely given, bloody scratches that leave some of him behind. He launches past the frame, heading out into open space.~

~The destruction is almost complete. As if not wanting its prey to get away, the flames jet out from the building, almost for a second appearing like a hand of God. The blast scorches the air itself, in a blast that's seen for miles around, bringing back painful memories to those who lived through traumatic times.~

~He falls, his back jacket now smoking from the blast, about to ignite. The blast seems to push him further forward, even as he begins to feel the pull of gravity. We see him from below, watching him begin to plummet downwards, with no tools to stop himself. It appears to be a long way down... for Peter Vaughn... as his life flashes before his eyes... ~


BEFORE

I was born in Allen, Texas, on December 2nd, 1991. Word has it I was an impatient guy even then, as I opted to wake my parents up late at night with the beginning pains of childbirth. My father was able to rush my mother to the hospital on icy roads, using a beat-up loaner from a friend that probably had no right to still be operational. He got us there in time, and I officially came into this world at 5:52am.

[Image: janitorbaby.jpg]

Yes, I did come out with a mop-full of hair, which was both a shock to my mother and a sign of the future to my father. From all reports, I was said to have been a happy child, even if I wasn't routinely spoiled by extravagant gifts from my parents. I felt blessed every night we had food on the table. My father tried his hardest, he truly did, but there was little he could do to better his current situation, and paying to feed one more mouth was certainly a strain. My mother contributed where she could, but she had to make some choices: be there for her son, or leave town for weeks on mysterious assignments. Ol' Mom never strived to be Mother of the Year, so very few of my first memories have her face in them.

I remember my dreams from back then. I would think about places I would go when I grew up, taking my father with me on trips around the world. I thought about many different adventures, but while others were seeking Carmen Sandiego, I was seeking my mother, never knowing when she would return. And then one day, she left and never came back. I believe there was a note to my father, and even possibly one left for me as well, but I never laid eyes on it. My father shredded everything, before taking the remains out to the recycling bin as a good custodian does.

And all I was left with were my dreams.

Those have been what have driven me in life to this moment. Some dreams I've achieved, through a great deal of blood, sweat, and even a few tears. Others have slipped away from me, staying painfully out of reach. And the most cursed dream I've had? Having the greatest match of my life with one James Raven.

I remember James from the GCWA, where he became the World Champion. I was still a curtain jerker at the time, but I knew, if I ever wanted to be great in the wrestling business, I needed to try and emulate someone like him. But copying him wasn't successful. So in OCW, I changed my course, and became my own man, working up the OCW World Heavyweight Championship. As I stood on top of the world, James Raven entered the picture as the new OCW General Manager, and he immediately set up the new #1 contender: himself. While some saw it as a conceited move from a former hero, I believed that it was my destiny to meet James Raven in battle and vanquish him, finally securing my place as one of the top wrestlers in the world today.

And then... the Purge took place.

OCW fell to pieces, at least for a time, and James Raven was one of those released from his position. I was devastated. I saw my opportunity fade from my grasp, along with so many other possibilities... and so, I jumped. I left OCW behind to enter the free agent waters. There were many factors behind the decision, but if I'm honest with myself, the #1 reason was still to find James Raven... and defeat him. But this proved harder than I would have ever thought possible.

I entered the XWF, but Raven had left that fed behind, leaving me on a different path.

I went to Fight for their special Blood Money event, but despite my best efforts, I was never able to track down Raven in the chaos. Neither of us saw the other that night.

I competed in Pro Wrestling Valor, my time overlapping with James Raven's entry into the Roth Tournament. But despite our proximity in the brackets, I couldn't get there, getting screwed over by Matthew Knox. I could only watch as Raven was defeated not by me, but by SEB.

It felt like the fates were aligned against us. It did not seem like Raven and I were meant to fight.

But then, "Chronic" Chris Page approached me about the Cannabis Cup. He told me that he would line up a special opponent for the event, since I could no longer defend the TPW International Title due to the fed closing. He must have remembered some utterances I made while drinking with him at The Velvet Rabbit. I've never been one who could truly hold his liquor, unfortunately.

So Page opted to make my dream come true. He signed Peter Vaughn vs. James Raven, for the first time ever. And suddenly, everything was right in the world.

I had thought so long about standing across the ring from Raven, about walking up to him and sizing him up face-to-face. I thought about the handshake between two great competitors, before the war was on, with each of us trying to take the other to the edge of death if that's what it took to secure victory. I focused so intently on the moment of my landing the Plunge on Raven for the victory, that I had to remind myself that it hadn't taken place yet. And now, thanks to Chris, I had my opportunity to dish out that punishment to Raven. I had my chance to obliterate my idol.

#HailRaven was my calling card for so long. But I knew, no, I KNOW, that if I can eliminate Raven at the Cannabis Cup, I can finally shed that statement and fully utilize my new one: #HailVaughn.

It has a beautiful ring to it.


THIRTY MINUTES BEFORE NOW

~The picture opens up on an aerial shot of the traffic on the FDR Drive. The camera lets a few cars pass by, then zooms in on what appears to be a stretch limo. Through a trick of the art of editing, it seems like the camera goes straight down through the limo's unopened skyroof, sliding to a step as it focuses on Peter Vaughn. He seems to be checking out every item he can from the minibar, while playing around with some of the switches to see what turns on and off. When the blender spins for a second, Vaughn smirks.~

Peter Vaughn: Seriously, who needs a blender for a short car ride? Just drink a beer or two and be happy...

~Vaughn sighs and sits back, taking it all in.~

Peter Vaughn: I will say, Chris really went all out to make this one feel special for me. I never expected a limousine like this to be waiting for me at the airport. But I suppose, as one of the top draws of the Cannabis Cup, I definitely deserve it. Man, never thought I'd see the day when I finally get to face James Raven. Part of me wonders if an asteroid will hit the Velvet Rabbit the night before... no, I better be careful what I say, it could still happen...

~The wrestler sits back, staring out the window of the limo, taking in the 'scenic' view of the East River. He scratches his chin, wondering about the decision to come this way, when the limo abruptly takes the next exit. As Vaughn watches with more and more curiosity, he can tell that they're pulling up to an unexpected location: the American Copper Building.~

[Image: copperbuilding.jpg]

~Vaughn stares upwards at the massive structure, speechless. He finally decides that the limo isn't going to be moving any further, as it's still sitting in the parking lot, so he knocks on the divider. After a moment, possibly because the driver is used to people using the intercom in these post-COVID days, the divider goes down and the driver looks back.~

Driver: Sir?

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, so... I appreciate you driving me out here, but according to my itinerary, I'm supposed to be at The Four Seasons to get ready for my match. So why are we here?

Driver: The Four Seasons? No, sir, I was instructed to bring you to the Copper. I just do what I'm told. Your envelope should be there in the pocket next to you with the information.

~Confused, Vaughn looks around, finally noticing the envelope addressed to him that's sticking out to the side. He grimaces, having been so busy experimenting with the limo that he missed it. He nods to the driver and opens it up, reading the printed document inside. There is also a set of keys, which Vaughn pockets. He shakes his head.~

Peter Vaughn: Huh. I guess Chris had a change of heart. Or maybe he really wanted me to have an exclusive apartment to prepare in? I mean, I need all the advantages I can get with who my opponent is. You ever heard of James Raven?

Driver: Who hasn't heard of James Raven? The man is a legend.

Peter Vaughn: He is... or, I mean, he was... no, legends never die, so I guess he still is, even if he's not the same wrestler he used to be.

Driver: So hang on, you're fighting James Raven? Why'd they throw someone like you into that match?

~Vaughn's quiet for a moment, staring at the driver, who suddenly reads the room. His finger drifts over to the divider switch, in case he needs to put it up quickly.~

Driver: Of course, for you to be driving around in a limo, I suppose you're reaching his level, aren't you?

Peter Vaughn: ... One could say that... I AM a four-time World Champion, after all...

Driver: So, uh, if there's nothing else, my card's in the envelope whenever you need another ride while you're here. It's all paid for.

~Vaughn studies the driver a few moments more, then opts not to make a scene. He wouldn't want to damage something Page had paid insurance for. The door gets flung open, with Vaughn grabbing his single bag and stepping out. He slams the door shut, turning towards the giant building in front of him. He shifts the duffel bag onto his shoulder, watching as the limo quickly pulls away, heading for the main road.~

Peter Vaughn: I'll have to remind Chris to get better drivers next time. Guys who actually know the wrestlers. Strange that he never told me about the change of plans. I guess he wanted it to be a surprise?

~He sighs and steps forward, intent on making his way upwards per the instructions he found in the limo. The camera, meanwhile, zooms into Vaughn's duffel bag, focusing on the cell phone that he absentmindedly stuck in there earlier today after getting off the flight. It shows the screen, which is lit up with multiple messages.~

[Image: christext.png]

~It's clear more messages are coming in, but we cut away before we can see anything else.~


BEFORE

I sometimes wonder how different my life would have been if my mother had stayed in the picture.

Would she have raised me differently? Fought to keep me from becoming like my father? I guess we'll never know the answer to that question, unless parallel universes can be reached. Personally, I don't think I need to know. I like what I am now, so why would I want to see something that could have been different?

In this universe, I was raised by my father, who spent most of his time doing the handyman work for a stubborn jerk of a landlord. I found myself helping him out, first on small chores, and then much larger ones. While I continued in my studies, eventually graduating from high school, my main learning took place at a young age inside the apartment building I lived in.

[Image: janitorchild.png]

I can hear the comments now, how I look like a pretty cute kid in my janitorial outfit. But when others are wearing their football jerseys or favorite bands to school, while you're spending time with this kind of look, well, you can imagine how I was bullied as a kid. The snobs, those with plenty of money who could afford whatever they wanted, loved looking down on guys like me. They'd try to get in their shots, both verbal and physical, whenever they got the chance. It wasn't a very fun life.

And yet, in some ways, this was the beginning of my training as a wrestler. I would learn to use my smarts, choosing different paths wherever I went, mapping out a course of action in case so-and-so showed up. I learned the best patterns to run in order to avoid confrontation. A lot of the speed and agility I use when running circles around my opponents goes back to the time I'd have to avoid Big Ricky's fist from connecting with my skull. I also gained physically in other areas, due to constantly mopping the floors and painting the side walls another awful color.

I didn't know it at the time, but I was definitely preparing myself for my future life.

I wonder what kind of privileged life James Raven had as he grew up?

You'd think as a fan boy, I'd know these things, but for some reason, I've never looked into Raven's history. If I'm being honest with myself, it's probably because I might find myself hating him if I found out he was one of those pretty snobs who was given everything in life. I hope that wasn't the case. But there are times when you feel it from him that he grew up in privileged circumstances.

He's certainly enjoying those privileges today. He's had plenty of title reigns, enough that the money gets thrown at him to make a special appearance, even if he's not expected to succeed while wrestling there. He's got Atara Themis with him, with her about to start the next generation of Raven's. The man is living the life, there's no doubt about it. That, more than anything, is why I'm glad to still have the option to face him between the ropes. It was starting to look like the only way I'd ever fight him would be to ambush him on his way to some special event, smashing him through the car's windshield and leaving him a blood-soaked mess as Atara screams his name.

Not that I would ever do that to him.

I don't think I would, at least.

Raven's always felt like he lives on a higher plane than the rest of us. That's probably why my attempts to emulate him never succeeded. The only way I could become a champion was by relying on my true self, releasing all of the emotion and becoming the force I am today. In the last year, I've learned that I don't need to be the next James Raven. I just needed to be Peter Vaughn, the once and future king of the wrestling world.

My name's started to get out there over the last year. Victories in so many federations have made it hard to ignore. For many who follow wrestling, Peter Vaughn is now a household name. But I'm not blind. It's clear that, even if they know me, they don't set me on the same level as someone like James. Why would they, really? Even after all my championships I've held over the last year, there's still plenty of debate about who I've actually defeated. Guys like Matt Knox and Supreme Machine claim my wins don't count. Fighters like Jim Caedus and Calypso had meltdowns before I could finish destroying them, giving them excuses. Even clean wins over foes like Centurion and Mac Bane barely stirred the waters.

But if I do what I have promised for so long... if I defeat a man the caliber of James Raven... we're talking less of a stir and more of a typhoon effect.

Raven is a Hall of Famer. He may have lost a few steps over the years, but he's still one of the most respected men in the business. And once I bloody his nose with the Keyholder... once I crack his spine with Revenged... and once I demolish his guts with the Plunge... I'll pull that respect away from him, building up my own.

It's going to be glorious, thinking of those bullies watching from their recliners, their guts sagging over their belts, as they see me victorious over James Raven and say to themselves, "If I had been nicer to Peter back in the day, maybe I could have been there to celebrate with him."

I hope they regret every moment of their misbegotten lives on that day.


TWENTY MINUTES BEFORE NOW

~The elevator arrives on the desired floor, with a muffled 'Ding" ringing down the hallway. As the doors open, we see Vaughn working to remove the set of keys, having used them to reach this floor. The elevator doors start to close again, with Vaughn blocking it with his foot. He manages to step out, bringing his bag with him, then watches as the doors quickly close again.~

Peter Vaughn: They don't give you much time to get out, do they? Guess they want the elevators available for everyone else in the building.

~Vaughn shrugs and continues on his way, checking the flap on the keyring for the correct apartment. He heads down the hall, looking at the numbers as they ascend. It sends him around a corner, where we see a picturesque window built into the end of the hall. Vaughn makes a note of it, wanting to check it out later, but he's reached the room he was looking for. He unlocks the door, stepping inside.~

Peter Vaughn: Paradise, here I... come....

[Image: emptyapartment.jpg]

~As the lights come on, Vaughn looks around, having expected a beautifully decorated suite. But there's nothing. No portraits on the walls. No furniture. Very little to speak off, really, other than what looks to be a smaller television screen hung on the wall. Vaughn moves and checks some of the other rooms, finding them just as empty as the first one. Walking back to the entrance area, Vaughn stops in the center, rubbing his head.~

Peter Vaughn: I don't get it. Is Chris playing some sort of joke on me? Prank the CCPE member? But why would he do that? This doesn't make any sense.

~Still confused, Vaughn walks over to his duffel bag, unzipping it and searching through it for his phone. He finally finds it, opening it up and immediately seeing the messages from Chris Page.~

Peter Vaughn: I never showed up? Why would the limo driver say that? Unless...

~Even more puzzled, Vaughn sends a message back, asking about the limo, before putting the phone back in his pocket so that he can receive messages from now on. He looks around the empty apartment once more, this time getting a bit more of a foreboding feeling from it.~

Peter Vaughn: Yeah... until this is straightened out, something tells me I need to get the hell out of here...

~Vaughn heads back over to his bag, reaching for it... just he hears the television in the main room click on. There's the sound of someone clearing their throat. Vaughn slowly turns, looking back over his shoulder at the TV.~

Voice: Leaving so soon, Mr. Vaughn?

~It's a voice that Vaughn has heard before, but not for a long while. He focuses on the figure appearing on the screen, confirming to himself that it is who he thought it was.~

Peter Vaughn: ... Andrew Logan...

~The camera turns enough so that we, too, can see the former wrestler turned manipulator turned criminal, Andrew Logan, sitting in front of a large desk. He is leafing through the book in front of him, as if the whole conversation is beneath him. His voice, though, has a slight tinge of anger boiling up from underneath.~

Andrew Logan: You didn't think things were over between us, did you, Mr. Vaughn?

~Logan lets out a small laugh, as Vaughn, tensed, waits to find out what kind of mess he's gotten himself into this time.~


BEFORE

It was fate that decided that I would become a wrestler.

While I had watched some of the older wrestling programs growing up, at least the ones you could watch without a major cable subscription, I never considered stepping into the squared circle. It was not through any love of wrestling that I applied to the Global Championship Wrestling Association for a janitorial position. I was simply looking for work, so that I wouldn't starve while trying to pay for my father's early entry into a medical ward.

He spent his best years working to keep me alive, so it was really not that surprising when he had his collapse. He was never the same after that.

So I applied anywhere I could for a good position, something that paid more than a custodian in a small apartment building. Since the GCWA was just getting started, they were very interested in filling staff positions, and I was fortunate to get in there with a good salary. That's where I expected it to end. I never thought that The Accelerator would grab me from my work in a fit of rage, ordering me to compete in another wrestler's place that night.

It was a colossal beatdown. I never should have been out there with a professional.

I doubt I truly proved anything to Ace, but he still offered me a full-time wrestling contract after that night. I think it had more to do with his fears, once he calmed down, that I could sue the company for all it was worth if I wanted to. But at the time, I was the happy-go-lucky Janitor, so why would I ever think of suing? I just wanted a good job, and this paid triple what I was getting for janitorial services. It was basically a promotion.

[Image: petervaughn.jpg]

Sure, I suffered lots of bruises, a few cracked ribs, and various other injuries over the next stretch of my career, but in my mind, I decided that the money was worth it. I was doing it all to keep my father comfortable, right? Nothing else mattered.

Over the years, though, I began to tire of being a human punching bag. I started seeking people who I thought might actually be able to train me to be something better. I ended up with Mike Zybala, one of the craziest bastards I've ever known. He had me fighting orangutans and testing my endurance by abandoning me in the wilderness on multiple occasions.

Looking back on it, it's remarkable that I survived.

I believed that it was all for the best, that it was making me a better man. But it didn't help me in the ring. I was still a loser.

That's when Jonathan Barrows, Ace's son, came into the picture.

Would things have been different if James Raven had been willing to become my mentor?

I have to think it would have been a huge change. Maybe I'd be in a different place today if Raven cared more about those who were underneath him. But I don't remember Raven and I sharing more than an occasional "Excuse Me" during his time in the GCWA. He has shown he rarely has time for anyone outside his small circle of friends.

I would call it selfish, but I understand it now. I don't like hanging out with those beneath me, either. I guess I AM resembling James Raven in that regard.

But it's hard not to consider a different place where Raven mentored me instead of Zybala, and I became a champion that much faster. I think I've proven that the basic materials were there. I just needed a guide. It's too bad that Raven had no interest in it. He was focused on trying to keep his own career continuing on its fiery run at the top to worry about any of the next generation.

When you think about it, Raven missed a major opportunity as well. I might have been able to teach him a few things during training, tricks that I created myself that work extremely well in the ring. There's a reason I have such a strong winning record this year, and it's not because I've faced easy competition. I wonder if Raven's seen any of those matches in preparing for me? Has he worked hard to prepare for such a talented wrestler like myself, or does he still see the skinny Janitor he left behind in the GCWA?

It wouldn't shock me if Raven is underestimating me. So many wrestlers have, to their detriment. You'd think, by now, people wouldn't be that stupid, but it just keeps happening. I've been preparing over the last year and a half to build myself into competition for Raven. I've studied almost every match he's ever been in, taking in his usual quirks and decisions while wrestling men my size and speed. I have a detailed knowledge of his favorite attacks and counters, and how he likes to end a match in the most flamboyant way possible.

If Raven walks into the Cannabis Cup just expecting me to be a push-over, well, it's going to be extremely disappointing... and it'll be an extremely fast contest.


TEN MINUTES BEFORE NOW

~Vaughn waits for Logan's next move, expecting him to reveal something on the television screen, but Logan seems more intent on finishing the chapter of the book he's reading.~

[Image: andrewloganbook.jpg]

~Never being the most patient individual, Vaughn steps forward, his voice growling at the man who once tried to recruit him.~

Peter Vaughn: What's this about, Logan? Why'd you bring me here?

~Sighing at the interruption, Logan finally books his book to the side, turning to face Vaughn. He steeples his fingers, thinking for a moment before responding.~

Andrew Logan: Well, you could say I just brought you here to 'mess with you', but that's only a side benefit, I'm afraid. No, I wanted to have this conversation, Mr. Vaughn, to once again offer you the option of working with me.

~Vaughn's eyes narrow. It was not the expected response, clearly.~

Peter Vaughn: The Left Hand is dead...

~Logan lets out another laugh, this one with little humor in it.~

Andrew Logan: It may very well be. I haven't had much contact with anyone in that group for quite some time. It wouldn't surprise me, though, if they were still out there somewhere, waiting for the moment to come back...

Peter Vaughn: Never happen.

Andrew Logan: Never say never, Peter. Still, The Left Hand served its purpose. Once I got out of jail, I was able to use what I learned there to my benefit. I've built quite the successful little enterprise, if I do say so myself. I now have my fingers in many organizations now... but, I'm afraid I still have not been able to return to the wrestling business that used to be my home. But you, Mr. Vaughn... you're part of it. You're surrounded by it. You're the man I want to work with.

~Vaughn finally smirks, knowing what an absurd Idea this is. He turns and grabs his bag, preparing to leave without any other words.~

Andrew Logan: Let us not be too hasty, Mr. Vaughn. You haven't even heard my full offer yet.

Peter Vaughn: I don't need to, Logan. I've made something of myself in this business. I've built myself up to be the equal of men like James Raven! But you never could. You were a failure wherever you went. You became a JOKE! Why would I ever want to do anything with you? I never was Left Hand material... because I love hitting people with both fists at the same time. All you've done, Logan, is waste my time. I've got my actual hotel to get to, even if I have to hitch-hike to get there.

Andrew Logan: If you step out that door, you're making a very serious mistake, one you may very well never be able to come back from.

Peter Vaughn: I'll take my chances.

Andrew Logan: So be it.

~As Vaughn opens the door, heading out, Andrew Logan's image disappears from the television. Instead, a countdown timer appears. Vaughn, stopping just outside the door, looks back, hearing the start of the beeping. Logan's voice can still be heard, now echoing in the hallway. Perhaps it always was there.~

Andrew Logan: I had the feeling our conversation might go this way, Mr. Vaughn. So I arranged for you to be able to "take some time off". I wish you only the best of luck.

~As Logan begins to laugh menacingly, little lights appear above all of the doorways in the hallway. Vaughn peers at them, recognizing the sign of detonators being activated. He gasps and sprints away from the room, heading to the elevators. But all of them have gone to the first floor, far away from any access for Vaughn. This was most likely done on purpose, as well as to prevent any additional casualties in the elevator shafts. Vaughn turns around, looking for the emergency stairwell. He runs over to it, hitting the door, but it's been locked securely shut. It doesn't budge as Vaughn bangs his shoulder into it, again and again.~

Andrew Logan: Your time is running out, Mr. Vaughn. It looks like this time, you'll be the one taking the Plunge. Good bye.

~Frustrated, Vaughn spins around, looking for any way out. That's when his eyes land on the window at the end of the hall. It's a million-to-one chance, but it's better than no chance at all. He begins to sprint, bag in hand, as we're shown the timer again... ticking down to zero. That's when the explosions begin.~


BEFORE

Not many would consider torture to be the greatest turning point of one's life. But it worked for me.

When I survived Jonathan Barrows' manipulations, I came out a changed man. I didn't have the morals that held me down in the past. I didn't feel the emotional angst that once surrounded my life. I became Peter Vaughn, the wrestling machine.

Maybe that's a little conceited, calling myself a machine. But I still think it's accurate.

I went through OCW after that moment and tore my way up to the top. After becoming the OCW Craze Champion due to my placement at the first PPV, I went from there to challenging and defeating Outcast for the OCW World Title. The less said about what happened after that the better, but it did lead to my obsession with fighting James Raven. I went to the XWF, immediately making the most of what I was given by becoming the XWF Universal Champion, dismantling Jim Caedus. I stormed through the Roth Tournament to become the Pro Wrestling Valor World Champion. I dominated in Thunder Pro Wrestling, earning the TPW International Title. And suddenly, I was holding all of these championships at once. I was on top of the world.

Of course, that never lasts.

But the battles have continued. The titles are still there for the taking, like the XWF Supercontinental Title I am wearing at this very moment. I've made waves in other federations, like winning the Game Genie in Level Up Wrestling. And I have become one of the signature figures of one of the greatest agencies ever in the sport.

[Image: ccpe.jpg]

I have found pride in myself, having reached this point in my career where I believe I can be seen as one of the greatest in the world today. There's only one thing in my mind that can make everything even better:

The total domination of those who came before me. Those like James Raven.

I have put together a magnificent battle plan, if I do say so myself, for the match with Raven.

I have a Plan A, a Plan B, and a Plan C, and that's just the tip of the iceberg. I've got a whole series of strategies on how to counter Raven's best moves and make them work against him. It's the same strategy I employed to get the victory over another 'Raven' in Matt Knox. But I'd say I'm showing James Raven a lot more respect in my preparations, because I know he's likely one of the most decorated wrestlers I'll ever face in my career.

I will never underestimate James Raven. Hopefully, I'm not overestimating him, and he's going to bring every single trick he's learned to the war. He is still a dangerous competitor in the ring, who's only lost a step or two so far. I'm glad, because that means that a victory over him still counts for something. It still means that it will be a Top Five moment of my career, once it's all said and done. I will not let this moment slip away from me. Not again. Not ever again.

After so many chances that have been taken away, I can't let this one get by me. There are only a limited number of matches left for Raven before he decides to hang up his boots and become a house husband. I have no doubt that he'll be a tremendous father. I will do my best not to inflict any permanent injuries that would hinder him. I don't want that. I want him to be able to raise his son or daughter up in the air and give them a spin around the room. I'm pulling for him to eventually have more children. Maybe not as many as Knox, but a few more. I want them to have a future where they talk about their father, one of the greatest wrestlers who ever came into the ring.

And I want those kids to also be reminded of the man who soundly defeated Raven, pinning his shoulders to the mat for the 1-2-3. I want them to have posters of Peter Vaughn in their rooms, as I take Raven's spot as the must-watch superstar of his time.

They'll be talking about me, James, and I hope that won't be something that you try to punish them for. Just let them have it. Let them have me, their future hero.

And I'll continue to praise you as the best wrestler I've ever beaten.


TEN MINUTES AFTER NOW

~The renowned New York Fire Department is already arriving on the scene. The damage to the Coppers appears to be surprisingly minimal, as the explosion was channeled directly through one floor of the apartment building. Taking no chances, the NYFD have suited up and are on their way up the stairs, prepared to put out whatever structural fires remain. We see the smashed window on the side of the building, which angles out to the East River. As the camera moves along the path that must have been taken, it zooms downwards from the building, aiming towards the river. We can see something floating down there, face-up, not moving. The camera gets closer and closer, showing us Peter Vaughn. We get a close-up of his face... as his eyes open.~

Peter Vaughn: Phaaugghh!!

~Vaughn comes to, which nearly causes him to sink into the muck of the East River. He manages to right himself, treading water, as he looks around, then up at where he fell from. He laughs to himself, knowing how improbable it is that he survived the fall.~

Peter Vaughn: Good one... Logan...

~He takes a few deep breaths, still trying to pull himself together after what must have been a frightening experience… at least for normal people.~

Peter Vaughn: Now... it looks like… it’s my move...

~Vaughn starts to backstroke his way towards the shore, moving slowly, as if sore from the likely rough landing he endured. The camera zooms up, showing his path towards the nearby coast, as the smoke is still billowing out from the building. We slowly fade out.~


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The Road So Far:

A Spirited Opportunity

A Spirited Journey, P1

A Spirited Journey, P2

A Spirited Journey, P3


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Lately, Peter Vaughn has been put through the ringer. He lost his identity for a time to a virtual reality program, having to fight to reunite his mind and body. His mentor sacrificed himself to save Vaughn's life, which made Vaughn the new Head Custodian of the Custodial Coalition. He's fallen into the Down Below and battled sinister spirits while walking the Yellow Brick Road. Yes, you read that correctly. He's even had time in another organization to join his long-lost mother in working to bring down a devious underground criminal enterprise.

So, yeah, it's been a busy summer.

After all that, as well as successfully defending his XWF Supercontinental Title, it feels like Vaughn is due for a nice, quiet time in his life. But with the Cannabis Cup around the corner, it appears that things aren't going to slow down anytime soon...


NOW

~The only thought running through his mind at the moment is "Run". There is nothing else that he can do. No other option has presented itself.~

~The flames begin to creep around the corners of the room, as the explosions go off in slow motion, following a chain sequence, one after the other... ~

~He runs. Step after step. Pushing off the balls of his feet to get the strongest sprint of his life. But it's a race he's destined to lose. He knows this to be true. But he still refuses to accept it.~

~The explosions are beginning to join together into a wall of fire, erupting forward, seeking the easiest passage straight down the hallway. Any doors passed that haven't been blown up yet smash inwards off their hinges. The wall of flame... is gaining... ~

~He runs. What other option is there? The only thing he can see is the window up ahead, a standing frame placed at the end of the hallway in case anyone wanted a scenic view of New York. He calls upon whatever reserves he has left to run... faster... ~

~Paint blisters on the walls seconds before they cave in, unable to withstand the pressure of the explosions. The force shakes the building, even as it's channeled straight ahead. Another explosion comes from the floor level, shattering the ground that was just stood upon.~

~He turns. It's a spin that might remind you of the Tasmanian Devil from your youth, or, more accurately, like an Olympic hammer throw specialist going for the greatest distance. The bag he's carrying comes with him, and after the spin is complete, it's launched forward. If the window is reinforced, this will not work, and the odds of success drop from minimal to nonexistent. But it DOES succeed, as the glass shatters outwards, the edges glinting in the sun for a moment before starting their descent below.~

~The inferno moves as if it has a mind of its own. It is devouring the ground between them at a frantic pace, even in slow motion. There is almost no time left before the distance between the two will be zero.~

~He leaps, getting as much power behind his legs as possible. As the flames close in, he flies through the now-open window, unable to avoid all the shards of glass still sticking out from the frame. It is a sacrifice freely given, bloody scratches that leave some of him behind. He launches past the frame, heading out into open space.~

~The destruction is almost complete. As if not wanting its prey to get away, the flames jet out from the building, almost for a second appearing like a hand of God. The blast scorches the air itself, in a blast that's seen for miles around, bringing back painful memories to those who lived through traumatic times.~

~He falls, his back jacket now smoking from the blast, about to ignite. The blast seems to push him further forward, even as he begins to feel the pull of gravity. We see him from below, watching him begin to plummet downwards, with no tools to stop himself. It appears to be a long way down... for Peter Vaughn... as his life flashes before his eyes... ~


BEFORE

I was born in Allen, Texas, on December 2nd, 1991. Word has it I was an impatient guy even then, as I opted to wake my parents up late at night with the beginning pains of childbirth. My father was able to rush my mother to the hospital on icy roads, using a beat-up loaner from a friend that probably had no right to still be operational. He got us there in time, and I officially came into this world at 5:52am.

[Image: janitorbaby.jpg]

Yes, I did come out with a mop-full of hair, which was both a shock to my mother and a sign of the future to my father. From all reports, I was said to have been a happy child, even if I wasn't routinely spoiled by extravagant gifts from my parents. I felt blessed every night we had food on the table. My father tried his hardest, he truly did, but there was little he could do to better his current situation, and paying to feed one more mouth was certainly a strain. My mother contributed where she could, but she had to make some choices: be there for her son, or leave town for weeks on mysterious assignments. Ol' Mom never strived to be Mother of the Year, so very few of my first memories have her face in them.

I remember my dreams from back then. I would think about places I would go when I grew up, taking my father with me on trips around the world. I thought about many different adventures, but while others were seeking Carmen Sandiego, I was seeking my mother, never knowing when she would return. And then one day, she left and never came back. I believe there was a note to my father, and even possibly one left for me as well, but I never laid eyes on it. My father shredded everything, before taking the remains out to the recycling bin as a good custodian does.

And all I was left with were my dreams.

Those have been what have driven me in life to this moment. Some dreams I've achieved, through a great deal of blood, sweat, and even a few tears. Others have slipped away from me, staying painfully out of reach. And the most cursed dream I've had? Having the greatest match of my life with one James Raven.

I remember James from the GCWA, where he became the World Champion. I was still a curtain jerker at the time, but I knew, if I ever wanted to be great in the wrestling business, I needed to try and emulate someone like him. But copying him wasn't successful. So in OCW, I changed my course, and became my own man, working up the OCW World Heavyweight Championship. As I stood on top of the world, James Raven entered the picture as the new OCW General Manager, and he immediately set up the new #1 contender: himself. While some saw it as a conceited move from a former hero, I believed that it was my destiny to meet James Raven in battle and vanquish him, finally securing my place as one of the top wrestlers in the world today.

And then... the Purge took place.

OCW fell to pieces, at least for a time, and James Raven was one of those released from his position. I was devastated. I saw my opportunity fade from my grasp, along with so many other possibilities... and so, I jumped. I left OCW behind to enter the free agent waters. There were many factors behind the decision, but if I'm honest with myself, the #1 reason was still to find James Raven... and defeat him. But this proved harder than I would have ever thought possible.

I entered the XWF, but Raven had left that fed behind, leaving me on a different path.

I went to Fight for their special Blood Money event, but despite my best efforts, I was never able to track down Raven in the chaos. Neither of us saw the other that night.

I competed in Pro Wrestling Valor, my time overlapping with James Raven's entry into the Roth Tournament. But despite our proximity in the brackets, I couldn't get there, getting screwed over by Matthew Knox. I could only watch as Raven was defeated not by me, but by SEB.

It felt like the fates were aligned against us. It did not seem like Raven and I were meant to fight.

But then, "Chronic" Chris Page approached me about the Cannabis Cup. He told me that he would line up a special opponent for the event, since I could no longer defend the TPW International Title due to the fed closing. He must have remembered some utterances I made while drinking with him at The Velvet Rabbit. I've never been one who could truly hold his liquor, unfortunately.

So Page opted to make my dream come true. He signed Peter Vaughn vs. James Raven, for the first time ever. And suddenly, everything was right in the world.

I had thought so long about standing across the ring from Raven, about walking up to him and sizing him up face-to-face. I thought about the handshake between two great competitors, before the war was on, with each of us trying to take the other to the edge of death if that's what it took to secure victory. I focused so intently on the moment of my landing the Plunge on Raven for the victory, that I had to remind myself that it hadn't taken place yet. And now, thanks to Chris, I had my opportunity to dish out that punishment to Raven. I had my chance to obliterate my idol.

#HailRaven was my calling card for so long. But I knew, no, I KNOW, that if I can eliminate Raven at the Cannabis Cup, I can finally shed that statement and fully utilize my new one: #HailVaughn.

It has a beautiful ring to it.


THIRTY MINUTES BEFORE NOW

~The picture opens up on an aerial shot of the traffic on the FDR Drive. The camera lets a few cars pass by, then zooms in on what appears to be a stretch limo. Through a trick of the art of editing, it seems like the camera goes straight down through the limo's unopened skyroof, sliding to a step as it focuses on Peter Vaughn. He seems to be checking out every item he can from the minibar, while playing around with some of the switches to see what turns on and off. When the blender spins for a second, Vaughn smirks.~

Peter Vaughn: Seriously, who needs a blender for a short car ride? Just drink a beer or two and be happy...

~Vaughn sighs and sits back, taking it all in.~

Peter Vaughn: I will say, Chris really went all out to make this one feel special for me. I never expected a limousine like this to be waiting for me at the airport. But I suppose, as one of the top draws of the Cannabis Cup, I definitely deserve it. Man, never thought I'd see the day when I finally get to face James Raven. Part of me wonders if an asteroid will hit the Velvet Rabbit the night before... no, I better be careful what I say, it could still happen...

~The wrestler sits back, staring out the window of the limo, taking in the 'scenic' view of the East River. He scratches his chin, wondering about the decision to come this way, when the limo abruptly takes the next exit. As Vaughn watches with more and more curiosity, he can tell that they're pulling up to an unexpected location: the American Copper Building.~

[Image: copperbuilding.jpg]

~Vaughn stares upwards at the massive structure, speechless. He finally decides that the limo isn't going to be moving any further, as it's still sitting in the parking lot, so he knocks on the divider. After a moment, possibly because the driver is used to people using the intercom in these post-COVID days, the divider goes down and the driver looks back.~

Driver: Sir?

Peter Vaughn: Yeah, so... I appreciate you driving me out here, but according to my itinerary, I'm supposed to be at The Four Seasons to get ready for my match. So why are we here?

Driver: The Four Seasons? No, sir, I was instructed to bring you to the Copper. I just do what I'm told. Your envelope should be there in the pocket next to you with the information.

~Confused, Vaughn looks around, finally noticing the envelope addressed to him that's sticking out to the side. He grimaces, having been so busy experimenting with the limo that he missed it. He nods to the driver and opens it up, reading the printed document inside. There is also a set of keys, which Vaughn pockets. He shakes his head.~

Peter Vaughn: Huh. I guess Chris had a change of heart. Or maybe he really wanted me to have an exclusive apartment to prepare in? I mean, I need all the advantages I can get with who my opponent is. You ever heard of James Raven?

Driver: Who hasn't heard of James Raven? The man is a legend.

Peter Vaughn: He is... or, I mean, he was... no, legends never die, so I guess he still is, even if he's not the same wrestler he used to be.

Driver: So hang on, you're fighting James Raven? Why'd they throw someone like you into that match?

~Vaughn's quiet for a moment, staring at the driver, who suddenly reads the room. His finger drifts over to the divider switch, in case he needs to put it up quickly.~

Driver: Of course, for you to be driving around in a limo, I suppose you're reaching his level, aren't you?

Peter Vaughn: ... One could say that... I AM a four-time World Champion, after all...

Driver: So, uh, if there's nothing else, my card's in the envelope whenever you need another ride while you're here. It's all paid for.

~Vaughn studies the driver a few moments more, then opts not to make a scene. He wouldn't want to damage something Page had paid insurance for. The door gets flung open, with Vaughn grabbing his single bag and stepping out. He slams the door shut, turning towards the giant building in front of him. He shifts the duffel bag onto his shoulder, watching as the limo quickly pulls away, heading for the main road.~

Peter Vaughn: I'll have to remind Chris to get better drivers next time. Guys who actually know the wrestlers. Strange that he never told me about the change of plans. I guess he wanted it to be a surprise?

~He sighs and steps forward, intent on making his way upwards per the instructions he found in the limo. The camera, meanwhile, zooms into Vaughn's duffel bag, focusing on the cell phone that he absentmindedly stuck in there earlier today after getting off the flight. It shows the screen, which is lit up with multiple messages.~

[Image: christext.png]

~It's clear more messages are coming in, but we cut away before we can see anything else.~


BEFORE

I sometimes wonder how different my life would have been if my mother had stayed in the picture.

Would she have raised me differently? Fought to keep me from becoming like my father? I guess we'll never know the answer to that question, unless parallel universes can be reached. Personally, I don't think I need to know. I like what I am now, so why would I want to see something that could have been different?

In this universe, I was raised by my father, who spent most of his time doing the handyman work for a stubborn jerk of a landlord. I found myself helping him out, first on small chores, and then much larger ones. While I continued in my studies, eventually graduating from high school, my main learning took place at a young age inside the apartment building I lived in.

[Image: janitorchild.png]

I can hear the comments now, how I look like a pretty cute kid in my janitorial outfit. But when others are wearing their football jerseys or favorite bands to school, while you're spending time with this kind of look, well, you can imagine how I was bullied as a kid. The snobs, those with plenty of money who could afford whatever they wanted, loved looking down on guys like me. They'd try to get in their shots, both verbal and physical, whenever they got the chance. It wasn't a very fun life.

And yet, in some ways, this was the beginning of my training as a wrestler. I would learn to use my smarts, choosing different paths wherever I went, mapping out a course of action in case so-and-so showed up. I learned the best patterns to run in order to avoid confrontation. A lot of the speed and agility I use when running circles around my opponents goes back to the time I'd have to avoid Big Ricky's fist from connecting with my skull. I also gained physically in other areas, due to constantly mopping the floors and painting the side walls another awful color.

I didn't know it at the time, but I was definitely preparing myself for my future life.

I wonder what kind of privileged life James Raven had as he grew up?

You'd think as a fan boy, I'd know these things, but for some reason, I've never looked into Raven's history. If I'm being honest with myself, it's probably because I might find myself hating him if I found out he was one of those pretty snobs who was given everything in life. I hope that wasn't the case. But there are times when you feel it from him that he grew up in privileged circumstances.

He's certainly enjoying those privileges today. He's had plenty of title reigns, enough that the money gets thrown at him to make a special appearance, even if he's not expected to succeed while wrestling there. He's got Atara Themis with him, with her about to start the next generation of Raven's. The man is living the life, there's no doubt about it. That, more than anything, is why I'm glad to still have the option to face him between the ropes. It was starting to look like the only way I'd ever fight him would be to ambush him on his way to some special event, smashing him through the car's windshield and leaving him a blood-soaked mess as Atara screams his name.

Not that I would ever do that to him.

I don't think I would, at least.

Raven's always felt like he lives on a higher plane than the rest of us. That's probably why my attempts to emulate him never succeeded. The only way I could become a champion was by relying on my true self, releasing all of the emotion and becoming the force I am today. In the last year, I've learned that I don't need to be the next James Raven. I just needed to be Peter Vaughn, the once and future king of the wrestling world.

My name's started to get out there over the last year. Victories in so many federations have made it hard to ignore. For many who follow wrestling, Peter Vaughn is now a household name. But I'm not blind. It's clear that, even if they know me, they don't set me on the same level as someone like James. Why would they, really? Even after all my championships I've held over the last year, there's still plenty of debate about who I've actually defeated. Guys like Matt Knox and Supreme Machine claim my wins don't count. Fighters like Jim Caedus and Calypso had meltdowns before I could finish destroying them, giving them excuses. Even clean wins over foes like Centurion and Mac Bane barely stirred the waters.

But if I do what I have promised for so long... if I defeat a man the caliber of James Raven... we're talking less of a stir and more of a typhoon effect.

Raven is a Hall of Famer. He may have lost a few steps over the years, but he's still one of the most respected men in the business. And once I bloody his nose with the Keyholder... once I crack his spine with Revenged... and once I demolish his guts with the Plunge... I'll pull that respect away from him, building up my own.

It's going to be glorious, thinking of those bullies watching from their recliners, their guts sagging over their belts, as they see me victorious over James Raven and say to themselves, "If I had been nicer to Peter back in the day, maybe I could have been there to celebrate with him."

I hope they regret every moment of their misbegotten lives on that day.


TWENTY MINUTES BEFORE NOW

~The elevator arrives on the desired floor, with a muffled 'Ding" ringing down the hallway. As the doors open, we see Vaughn working to remove the set of keys, having used them to reach this floor. The elevator doors start to close again, with Vaughn blocking it with his foot. He manages to step out, bringing his bag with him, then watches as the doors quickly close again.~

Peter Vaughn: They don't give you much time to get out, do they? Guess they want the elevators available for everyone else in the building.

~Vaughn shrugs and continues on his way, checking the flap on the keyring for the correct apartment. He heads down the hall, looking at the numbers as they ascend. It sends him around a corner, where we see a picturesque window built into the end of the hall. Vaughn makes a note of it, wanting to check it out later, but he's reached the room he was looking for. He unlocks the door, stepping inside.~

Peter Vaughn: Paradise, here I... come....

[Image: emptyapartment.jpg]

~As the lights come on, Vaughn looks around, having expected a beautifully decorated suite. But there's nothing. No portraits on the walls. No furniture. Very little to speak off, really, other than what looks to be a smaller television screen hung on the wall. Vaughn moves and checks some of the other rooms, finding them just as empty as the first one. Walking back to the entrance area, Vaughn stops in the center, rubbing his head.~

Peter Vaughn: I don't get it. Is Chris playing some sort of joke on me? Prank the CCPE member? But why would he do that? This doesn't make any sense.

~Still confused, Vaughn walks over to his duffel bag, unzipping it and searching through it for his phone. He finally finds it, opening it up and immediately seeing the messages from Chris Page.~

Peter Vaughn: I never showed up? Why would the limo driver say that? Unless...

~Even more puzzled, Vaughn sends a message back, asking about the limo, before putting the phone back in his pocket so that he can receive messages from now on. He looks around the empty apartment once more, this time getting a bit more of a foreboding feeling from it.~

Peter Vaughn: Yeah... until this is straightened out, something tells me I need to get the hell out of here...

~Vaughn heads back over to his bag, reaching for it... just he hears the television in the main room click on. There's the sound of someone clearing their throat. Vaughn slowly turns, looking back over his shoulder at the TV.~

Voice: Leaving so soon, Mr. Vaughn?

~It's a voice that Vaughn has heard before, but not for a long while. He focuses on the figure appearing on the screen, confirming to himself that it is who he thought it was.~

Peter Vaughn: ... Andrew Logan...

~The camera turns enough so that we, too, can see the former wrestler turned manipulator turned criminal, Andrew Logan, sitting in front of a large desk. He is leafing through the book in front of him, as if the whole conversation is beneath him. His voice, though, has a slight tinge of anger boiling up from underneath.~

Andrew Logan: You didn't think things were over between us, did you, Mr. Vaughn?

~Logan lets out a small laugh, as Vaughn, tensed, waits to find out what kind of mess he's gotten himself into this time.~


BEFORE

It was fate that decided that I would become a wrestler.

While I had watched some of the older wrestling programs growing up, at least the ones you could watch without a major cable subscription, I never considered stepping into the squared circle. It was not through any love of wrestling that I applied to the Global Championship Wrestling Association for a janitorial position. I was simply looking for work, so that I wouldn't starve while trying to pay for my father's early entry into a medical ward.

He spent his best years working to keep me alive, so it was really not that surprising when he had his collapse. He was never the same after that.

So I applied anywhere I could for a good position, something that paid more than a custodian in a small apartment building. Since the GCWA was just getting started, they were very interested in filling staff positions, and I was fortunate to get in there with a good salary. That's where I expected it to end. I never thought that The Accelerator would grab me from my work in a fit of rage, ordering me to compete in another wrestler's place that night.

It was a colossal beatdown. I never should have been out there with a professional.

I doubt I truly proved anything to Ace, but he still offered me a full-time wrestling contract after that night. I think it had more to do with his fears, once he calmed down, that I could sue the company for all it was worth if I wanted to. But at the time, I was the happy-go-lucky Janitor, so why would I ever think of suing? I just wanted a good job, and this paid triple what I was getting for janitorial services. It was basically a promotion.

[Image: petervaughn.jpg]

Sure, I suffered lots of bruises, a few cracked ribs, and various other injuries over the next stretch of my career, but in my mind, I decided that the money was worth it. I was doing it all to keep my father comfortable, right? Nothing else mattered.

Over the years, though, I began to tire of being a human punching bag. I started seeking people who I thought might actually be able to train me to be something better. I ended up with Mike Zybala, one of the craziest bastards I've ever known. He had me fighting orangutans and testing my endurance by abandoning me in the wilderness on multiple occasions.

Looking back on it, it's remarkable that I survived.

I believed that it was all for the best, that it was making me a better man. But it didn't help me in the ring. I was still a loser.

That's when Jonathan Barrows, Ace's son, came into the picture.

Would things have been different if James Raven had been willing to become my mentor?

I have to think it would have been a huge change. Maybe I'd be in a different place today if Raven cared more about those who were underneath him. But I don't remember Raven and I sharing more than an occasional "Excuse Me" during his time in the GCWA. He has shown he rarely has time for anyone outside his small circle of friends.

I would call it selfish, but I understand it now. I don't like hanging out with those beneath me, either. I guess I AM resembling James Raven in that regard.

But it's hard not to consider a different place where Raven mentored me instead of Zybala, and I became a champion that much faster. I think I've proven that the basic materials were there. I just needed a guide. It's too bad that Raven had no interest in it. He was focused on trying to keep his own career continuing on its fiery run at the top to worry about any of the next generation.

When you think about it, Raven missed a major opportunity as well. I might have been able to teach him a few things during training, tricks that I created myself that work extremely well in the ring. There's a reason I have such a strong winning record this year, and it's not because I've faced easy competition. I wonder if Raven's seen any of those matches in preparing for me? Has he worked hard to prepare for such a talented wrestler like myself, or does he still see the skinny Janitor he left behind in the GCWA?

It wouldn't shock me if Raven is underestimating me. So many wrestlers have, to their detriment. You'd think, by now, people wouldn't be that stupid, but it just keeps happening. I've been preparing over the last year and a half to build myself into competition for Raven. I've studied almost every match he's ever been in, taking in his usual quirks and decisions while wrestling men my size and speed. I have a detailed knowledge of his favorite attacks and counters, and how he likes to end a match in the most flamboyant way possible.

If Raven walks into the Cannabis Cup just expecting me to be a push-over, well, it's going to be extremely disappointing... and it'll be an extremely fast contest.


TEN MINUTES BEFORE NOW

~Vaughn waits for Logan's next move, expecting him to reveal something on the television screen, but Logan seems more intent on finishing the chapter of the book he's reading.~

[Image: andrewloganbook.jpg]

~Never being the most patient individual, Vaughn steps forward, his voice growling at the man who once tried to recruit him.~

Peter Vaughn: What's this about, Logan? Why'd you bring me here?

~Sighing at the interruption, Logan finally books his book to the side, turning to face Vaughn. He steeples his fingers, thinking for a moment before responding.~

Andrew Logan: Well, you could say I just brought you here to 'mess with you', but that's only a side benefit, I'm afraid. No, I wanted to have this conversation, Mr. Vaughn, to once again offer you the option of working with me.

~Vaughn's eyes narrow. It was not the expected response, clearly.~

Peter Vaughn: The Left Hand is dead...

~Logan lets out another laugh, this one with little humor in it.~

Andrew Logan: It may very well be. I haven't had much contact with anyone in that group for quite some time. It wouldn't surprise me, though, if they were still out there somewhere, waiting for the moment to come back...

Peter Vaughn: Never happen.

Andrew Logan: Never say never, Peter. Still, The Left Hand served its purpose. Once I got out of jail, I was able to use what I learned there to my benefit. I've built quite the successful little enterprise, if I do say so myself. I now have my fingers in many organizations now... but, I'm afraid I still have not been able to return to the wrestling business that used to be my home. But you, Mr. Vaughn... you're part of it. You're surrounded by it. You're the man I want to work with.

~Vaughn finally smirks, knowing what an absurd Idea this is. He turns and grabs his bag, preparing to leave without any other words.~

Andrew Logan: Let us not be too hasty, Mr. Vaughn. You haven't even heard my full offer yet.

Peter Vaughn: I don't need to, Logan. I've made something of myself in this business. I've built myself up to be the equal of men like James Raven! But you never could. You were a failure wherever you went. You became a JOKE! Why would I ever want to do anything with you? I never was Left Hand material... because I love hitting people with both fists at the same time. All you've done, Logan, is waste my time. I've got my actual hotel to get to, even if I have to hitch-hike to get there.

Andrew Logan: If you step out that door, you're making a very serious mistake, one you may very well never be able to come back from.

Peter Vaughn: I'll take my chances.

Andrew Logan: So be it.

~As Vaughn opens the door, heading out, Andrew Logan's image disappears from the television. Instead, a countdown timer appears. Vaughn, stopping just outside the door, looks back, hearing the start of the beeping. Logan's voice can still be heard, now echoing in the hallway. Perhaps it always was there.~

Andrew Logan: I had the feeling our conversation might go this way, Mr. Vaughn. So I arranged for you to be able to "take some time off". I wish you only the best of luck.

~As Logan begins to laugh menacingly, little lights appear above all of the doorways in the hallway. Vaughn peers at them, recognizing the sign of detonators being activated. He gasps and sprints away from the room, heading to the elevators. But all of them have gone to the first floor, far away from any access for Vaughn. This was most likely done on purpose, as well as to prevent any additional casualties in the elevator shafts. Vaughn turns around, looking for the emergency stairwell. He runs over to it, hitting the door, but it's been locked securely shut. It doesn't budge as Vaughn bangs his shoulder into it, again and again.~

Andrew Logan: Your time is running out, Mr. Vaughn. It looks like this time, you'll be the one taking the Plunge. Good bye.

~Frustrated, Vaughn spins around, looking for any way out. That's when his eyes land on the window at the end of the hall. It's a million-to-one chance, but it's better than no chance at all. He begins to sprint, bag in hand, as we're shown the timer again... ticking down to zero. That's when the explosions begin.~


BEFORE

Not many would consider torture to be the greatest turning point of one's life. But it worked for me.

When I survived Jonathan Barrows' manipulations, I came out a changed man. I didn't have the morals that held me down in the past. I didn't feel the emotional angst that once surrounded my life. I became Peter Vaughn, the wrestling machine.

Maybe that's a little conceited, calling myself a machine. But I still think it's accurate.

I went through OCW after that moment and tore my way up to the top. After becoming the OCW Craze Champion due to my placement at the first PPV, I went from there to challenging and defeating Outcast for the OCW World Title. The less said about what happened after that the better, but it did lead to my obsession with fighting James Raven. I went to the XWF, immediately making the most of what I was given by becoming the XWF Universal Champion, dismantling Jim Caedus. I stormed through the Roth Tournament to become the Pro Wrestling Valor World Champion. I dominated in Thunder Pro Wrestling, earning the TPW International Title. And suddenly, I was holding all of these championships at once. I was on top of the world.

Of course, that never lasts.

But the battles have continued. The titles are still there for the taking, like the XWF Supercontinental Title I am wearing at this very moment. I've made waves in other federations, like winning the Game Genie in Level Up Wrestling. And I have become one of the signature figures of one of the greatest agencies ever in the sport.

[Image: ccpe.jpg]

I have found pride in myself, having reached this point in my career where I believe I can be seen as one of the greatest in the world today. There's only one thing in my mind that can make everything even better:

The total domination of those who came before me. Those like James Raven.

I have put together a magnificent battle plan, if I do say so myself, for the match with Raven.

I have a Plan A, a Plan B, and a Plan C, and that's just the tip of the iceberg. I've got a whole series of strategies on how to counter Raven's best moves and make them work against him. It's the same strategy I employed to get the victory over another 'Raven' in Matt Knox. But I'd say I'm showing James Raven a lot more respect in my preparations, because I know he's likely one of the most decorated wrestlers I'll ever face in my career.

I will never underestimate James Raven. Hopefully, I'm not overestimating him, and he's going to bring every single trick he's learned to the war. He is still a dangerous competitor in the ring, who's only lost a step or two so far. I'm glad, because that means that a victory over him still counts for something. It still means that it will be a Top Five moment of my career, once it's all said and done. I will not let this moment slip away from me. Not again. Not ever again.

After so many chances that have been taken away, I can't let this one get by me. There are only a limited number of matches left for Raven before he decides to hang up his boots and become a house husband. I have no doubt that he'll be a tremendous father. I will do my best not to inflict any permanent injuries that would hinder him. I don't want that. I want him to be able to raise his son or daughter up in the air and give them a spin around the room. I'm pulling for him to eventually have more children. Maybe not as many as Knox, but a few more. I want them to have a future where they talk about their father, one of the greatest wrestlers who ever came into the ring.

And I want those kids to also be reminded of the man who soundly defeated Raven, pinning his shoulders to the mat for the 1-2-3. I want them to have posters of Peter Vaughn in their rooms, as I take Raven's spot as the must-watch superstar of his time.

They'll be talking about me, James, and I hope that won't be something that you try to punish them for. Just let them have it. Let them have me, their future hero.

And I'll continue to praise you as the best wrestler I've ever beaten.


TEN MINUTES AFTER NOW

~The renowned New York Fire Department is already arriving on the scene. The damage to the Coppers appears to be surprisingly minimal, as the explosion was channeled directly through one floor of the apartment building. Taking no chances, the NYFD have suited up and are on their way up the stairs, prepared to put out whatever structural fires remain. We see the smashed window on the side of the building, which angles out to the East River. As the camera moves along the path that must have been taken, it zooms downwards from the building, aiming towards the river. We can see something floating down there, face-up, not moving. The camera gets closer and closer, showing us Peter Vaughn. We get a close-up of his face... as his eyes open.~

Peter Vaughn: Phaaugghh!!

~Vaughn comes to, which nearly causes him to sink into the muck of the East River. He manages to right himself, treading water, as he looks around, then up at where he fell from. He laughs to himself, knowing how improbable it is that he survived the fall.~

Peter Vaughn: Good one... Logan...

~He takes a few deep breaths, still trying to pull himself together after what must have been a frightening experience… at least for normal people.~

Peter Vaughn: Now... it looks like… it’s my move...

~Vaughn starts to backstroke his way towards the shore, moving slowly, as if sore from the likely rough landing he endured. The camera zooms up, showing his path towards the nearby coast, as the smoke is still billowing out from the building. We slowly fade out.~


]]> <![CDATA[Still Gonna Put This Out There]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44037 Sun, 10 Jul 2022 03:56:09 -0700 James Raven]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44037 [Image: d8bf8fad8ce74a100e43610f9068bd56.gif]

TORONTO, CANADA

TYLER CAGE
So, I’m picturing an entire section of baddies, right?

Cups in hand, we make our way from the counter and towards the front door of the coffee shop. I pull the glass door open and step aside to allow a young couple to enter, but Tyler bursts through the threshold and onto the sidewalk as if he heard someone fire a starter's pistol. I shrug to the couple apologetically and wave them inside before exiting behind my new employee and “best friend”, still continuing with his pitch.

TYLER CAGE
Every time you cut to Centurion and I at the commentary desk, there’s just a sea of them behind us. They’re jumpin’ up and down, they’re hype as hell, they’re all lookin’ TOO fine… and Cent and I just do our thing, you know? He’d be all “Peter Vaughn is looking good here tonight” and I’ll be like “HELLLLS YEAH HE IS!” but the whole time there’s big titties behind us, right?

I sigh softly, taking a sip from my cup as he turns to walk backwards on the sidewalk in front of me so he can look me in my eyes with that expectant grin of his.

JAMES RAVEN
Uh-huh. What exactly is the point of it?

His grin fades, and he looks befuddled.

JAMES RAVEN
What does it DO for the WGWF?

TYLER CAGE
Are you insane? Half this business is perception, you know that. It makes us look like the place to be! It tells all the guys watching at home that if they come to our shows in their crispest wrestling tees and shave their neckbeards, they might bag themselves a baddie! You gotta imagine it James, like, really try and picture it. You know my fit is gonna be on point. Cent in a suit. A bunch of perfect tens leaning over the railing and screaming our names before you and Chris kick off Monday Night Brawl… the hottest new/old show in wrestling…

JAMES RAVEN
Right.

He shrugs his shoulders indifferently and spins away from me again to my sweet relief. I take another sip from my cup, quietly pulling my cell phone from my pocket and checking the screen for any new messages. Nothing. I drop it back into my pocket as we continue to walk, and Tyler continues to pitch from a few paces ahead of me.

TYLER CAGE
You’re not feeling it yet. That’s cool. It’s not like I’m coming to the table with one idea. Lemme fill the merch booths at the WGWF shows. Branded bikinis, a Baddy of the Month calendar, or-

JAMES RAVEN
I really think you’re narrowing in too hard on one specific lane. Let’s try and think outside of that box a little bit, drift out of your comfort zone and see what you come up with.

He’s quiet for a moment, lost in his own mind. He stops walking in the middle of the sidewalk, blocking the way for an elderly man passing in the opposite direction. Tyler turns to me slowly.

TYLER CAGE
Well, it’s got nothing to do with wrestling, but I did have an idea for a TV show I wanted to talk to you about. It’s kind of awkward to be the guy that starts working with you and day one says “give me my own show”, but I really think it’s got a lot of potential, I just need to work out the details.

I’m taken aback by his sudden sincerity, and grab him by the elbow to drag him over to the edge of the sidewalk and out of the way of the old man (that could have very easily just stepped into the street and passed by now, but chose to be entitled about it) who grumbles and moves on after losing a few of the precious seconds he has left.

JAMES RAVEN
Alright. You’ve got me interested. Let’s hear it.

TYLER CAGE
Well- no, nevermind man, it’s not ready. I shouldn’t have brought it up yet.

JAMES RAVEN
We develop. We produce. Just give me the elevator pitch, it doesn’t need to be fully formed.

He takes a deep breath.

TYLER CAGE
I want to host, like, a reality competition or something. We take ten aspiring baddies and-

JAMES RAVEN
Jesus Christ, Tyler…

I turn away from him and walk off the sidewalk into a small parkette, striding across the grass to a nearby bench that sits in the shade of a giant maple tree. I collapse onto it, taking my phone out again to check for non-existent messages before balancing it on my thigh and taking another sip from my cup as Tyler makes his way over and sits down behind me.

TYLER CAGE
This coffee is trash, in this goofy ass tiny cup…

JAMES RAVEN
It's espresso.

TYLER CAGE
Is that French for trash?

JAMES RAVEN
It’s Italian.

TYLER CAGE
For trash?

I shake my head and sigh, a more and more frequent occurrence with each day he and I spend together. I lean back against the bench, staring absently into space for a long and quiet moment as Tyler pulls the lid off of his cup and pours the remainder of its contents into the grass beside him. He leans back beside me and soaks in the silence for as long as he can. It might have been forty five seconds.

TYLER CAGE
You good, GOAT?

JAMES RAVEN
Yeah, I’m good.

TYLER CAGE
You sure? You’ve been quiet. No jabs, no quips.

JAMES RAVEN
Just preparing you to work with Centurion.

I look down at my phone again. No messages. He points at me immediately, shaking his finger like a parent when reprimanding their child.

TYLER CAGE
And what’s up with that? Why do you keep checking your phone every three minutes? Am I boring you or something?! You got somewhere else you gotta be? ‘Cause I can go if you want, man, it’s a big city but I can find somebaddy to show me around, ya know?

JAMES RAVEN
It’s nothing like that.

TYLER CAGE
So what is it? You can’t bring me to fuckin’ Canada from Los Angeles and then stiff arm me the entire time. Somethings up with you. What’s good? If you’ve got something on your mind or somebody bothering you, let’s take care of it and then start having some fun. I got you.

I can see the spark in his eyes as the adrenaline starts to pump and I instantly hold a hand out to stop him, or at least slow him down.

JAMES RAVEN
Relax! It’s nothing like that. It’s Atty. I’m just checking to see if there’s anything from Atty.

He takes a breath. His eyes soften.

TYLER CAGE
Is everything good?

JAMES RAVEN
It’s great, Tyler. We’re going on a trip.

He lights up excitedly.

TYLER CAGE
AYYYYE! Living that jet-setting life! You guys been planning something, or just taking off somewhere spur of the moment?

JAMES RAVEN
We’re going back to Greece. It’s impromptu, but I’ve been thinking about it for a while.

He nods his head enthusiastically, a smile spreading from ear to ear across his face.

TYLER CAGE
I like it. Maybe I’ll fly out. I can bring a couple of-

JAMES RAVEN
Tyler, if you say the word “baddies” I swear to God you’re fired, and if I see your face in Athens I will end you.

TYLER CAGE
You can’t hog an entire island, bruh. I’m sure there’s plenty of beaches.

JAMES RAVEN
It’s not “an island”. Look at a fucking map.

TYLER CAGE
Why would I look at a map when I’m tryna just go there?! But you’re out here being an entire asshole about it!

I drop my head, rubbing my eyes with my thumb and forefinger. I take a deep breath to calm myself and stop from assaulting this near-child in public.

JAMES RAVEN
I’m not taking her home for a vacation, OK?

TYLER CAGE
So what? You have some little business sum’n sum’n or somethin’?

JAMES RAVEN
No business. No vacation. We just need to go back for a little bit, leave it alone.

He shakes his head furiously, standing up from the bench and standing in front of me on the grass.

TYLER CAGE
Nope. You gotta tell me what’s up, now. This is the most interesting thing you’ve had to talk about all day. If you don’t tell me why you’re going to Greece, then bet I’m gonna run up on you there and find out.

JAMES RAVEN
Shut the fuck up.

TYLER CAGE
I'm not playing. I'll be there in a toga with a baddy feeding me grapes unless you tell me what's up.

I take a deep breath, trying to find the words. He stands patiently, arms crossed and eyes locked on me.

JAMES RAVEN
I just have a few people I need to talk to. Things have changed over the past few months, and I don’t want to waste any more time, you know?

TYLER CAGE
I dunno. Maybe.

JAMES RAVEN
It’s just… like… I don’t know. I’ve spent a few months trying to figure some things out, and it’s been a whirlwind of fucking thoughts and feelings to fight through, and it just finally seems so obvious. I spent so much time worrying about who I used to be, or who I still can be, or what people expect me to be… and there’s really only one thing I want to be… one thing that I think about every day, from the second I wake up until the second I fall asleep again.

He listens carefully, but I get the distinct impression that some of the sentiment is lost on him. I shrug my shoulders, and leave it there.

JAMES RAVEN
Don’t worry about it. I just need to talk to some people, that’s all.

TYLER CAGE
You can talk to me, GOAT. Just stop being so cryptic.

I wink at him.

JAMES RAVEN
Never. I need to talk to different people, but don’t worry. If this weekend goes well, you’ll find out along with everyone else.

He shakes his head in resignation.

TYLER CAGE
Fine. Keep your secrets. Can we at least hit the gym or something?

I feel my phone vibrate and immediately scramble for it, seeing the new message on the display; “I’m ready. Let’s go.”. I pop up from the bench, firing an apologetic look to Tyler as I take a few steps across the grass away from him.

JAMES RAVEN
Sorry, man. I’ve got a flight to catch.

TYLER CAGE
Now?!

JAMES RAVEN
Right now!

TYLER CAGE
What the fuck am I supposed to do?!

JAMES RAVEN
Work!

I turn away from him, breaking out to a near sprint as I take off back towards the coffee shop and the car.

TYLER CAGE
I don’t even know how to get back to the studio! I’M NOT FROM TORONTO YOU DICK!

JAMES RAVEN
I’ll send you an Uber!

I feel bad. I didn’t know I was going to be leaving like this when I asked Tyler to come up from California, but when the time is right… you can’t let it slip away.

TYLER CAGE
You forgot your coffee!

JAMES RAVEN
It’s trash!

Wish me luck, kids. This is the rest of my life that we're talking about.

FADE

OUT


ATHENS, GREECE


He strokes his heavily bearded chin, smiling warmly as he studies me from behind his desk. I can't help but shift slightly in my seat as I offer my own uncomfortable grin and a wiggle of my eyebrows in return. I sink deeper into the plush armchair with each subtle attempt to slide out, and I become painfully self-aware of his eyes on my struggle and resign myself to collapsing fully into the cushions. He says nothing, his hand moving instinctively from his beard to straighten a large golden crucifix hanging around his neck.

JAMES RAVEN
That’s a nice piece. You should be shooting music videos with bling like that.

He continues to smile, and shrugs his shoulders softly.

PRIEST
A bit of the reference is wasted on me, I admit, but I’m sure it was very charming.

Swing and a miss. I feel like my heart is beating in my throat, and I can feel my stomach twisting and tightening nearly enough to double me over. I haven’t spoken to someone like him in a long time. I’m not exactly what you’d call a “true believer”. I shift my eyes off of him and glance around his office as I take a deep breath to steady myself. Rich wood, and earth tones. The wall to my right is lined floor to ceiling with more books than a local library, the wall to my left tall windows that look out over Athens with a stained glass border across the top that casts red and golden hues upon us as we meet.

PRIEST
Relax, James. We’re just chatting. Surely you’ve faced higher stakes than this, before.

JAMES RAVEN
I think you’d be surprised, Father. Am I supposed to call you Father?

PRIEST
Call me whatever puts you at ease.

I nod, but say nothing else. He allows us to steep in the silence, giving me a moment to take a few more calming breaths as he reaches to lift a water pitcher from the corner of his desk and pours two glasses. He offers me one, then leans back and resumes stroking the graying patches of his long and dark beard.

PRIEST
If you don’t mind, tell me a bit of your background…

JAMES RAVEN
You mean, like, my career? You want me to do my whole schtick and rattle off the resume?

He shakes his head with an amused twinkle in his eye.

PRIEST
The championships you’ve won aren’t something that factors in here, I’m afraid. Where are you from? Tell me about your family.

I feel my face grow hot with embarrassment. Right. That makes more sense. I take a deep slug from my water glass and set it down on the desk.

JAMES RAVEN
I was born in Toronto, Canada. My parents lived a comfortable life, and I’m the middle of three children. My father was a doctor, and my mother was… everything… everything you ever needed her to be. She passed away when I was a teenager, and my older brother passed a few years later.

PRIEST
My condolences.

I smile gratefully.

JAMES RAVEN
Thanks, padre. Anyways, my younger sister lives in Virginia Beach right now. She’s awesome, but we don’t see each other often. My dad lives… I don’t even know where. We don’t see each other at all.

He slowly nods, listening carefully. Thankfully he doesn’t pry.

PRIEST
Did faith play any sort of role in your life?

Fuck. I wish he had pried. I suddenly feel like I’m traversing a minefield, the slightest misstep ready to blow me and my aspirations to smithereens. He senses the tension that overtakes me.

PRIEST
James! Relax! I’m just asking you a couple of questions, I’m not here to judge you.

JAMES RAVEN
… yeah you are.

PRIEST
Well, maybe a little bit.

He winks from across the desk.

JAMES RAVEN
My mother was Christian. My father was too, I guess, but it was for her. As soon as she was gone he never went back. I didn’t either. I don’t know that I was ever really bought in before then, though. Faith is a weird word for it. I was interested in philosophy. I believed in the possibility of there being more to life, and stuff like that… but… I don’t know if that’s enough for what you’re asking.

PRIEST
Faith in anything is still faith, and it’s good. I’d like to discuss some of that further with you another time, if you’re open to it.

I nod my head solemnly, biting my tongue to stop myself from telling him that I’d do basically anything he asked me to do at this point if it helped my cause even slightly.

PRIEST
Were you baptized after birth?

JAMES RAVEN
I was, uh… I was not.

PRIEST
Would you perhaps be open to it?

Caught slightly off guard, I glance around the office, my eyes settling on the pitcher of water on the table.

JAMES RAVEN
Now?

PRIEST
No, of course not now. Perhaps soon, though? Something to think about over the next couple of months?

Like I said, I’d do basically anything.

JAMES RAVEN
I’m open to it.

Seemingly satisfied with my anwer, his smile grows somehow warmer. He takes a drink from his glass for the first time, and I take the opportunity to snatch my glass and drain nearly every drop. He pushes the pitcher towards me, motioning for me to refill and settle in.

PRIEST
I understand you have a child on the way. Congratulations, I’m sure you’re very excited.

JAMES RAVEN
Thank you. I am. I can’t appropriately describe it.

PRIEST
What are your plans for the baby? In regards to the church, of course.

For the first time my answer flows off my tongue without the slightest hesitation.

JAMES RAVEN
She’ll be baptized, and she’ll be raised Orthodox. Atara and I bought a house in the Greek neighborhood in Toronto, and we’ve already looked at a few churches.

PRIEST
There’s no objections, or maybe doubts on your end? However small?

I shake my head firmly.

JAMES RAVEN
Not at all. It’s important to Atara, and it’s important to her family. Why would I object?

He shrugs his shoulders casually.

PRIEST
Maybe as someone whose own faith has been, let's call it “vague”, you would find the whole thing a bit silly. Maybe you’d see the energy and belief of others being directed to something intangible, and would find it to be misdirected.

I think about his words carefully, and choose my own even moreso.

JAMES RAVEN
I fell in love with Atara. Everything she is and everything that made her this way. I always kind of chased “what's next”, especially when I was younger, because I didn’t have a lot to look behind me and take pride in. I left home early, and I wore my family name like an albatross around my neck… a constant reminder of my father, the constant shadow of an older brother that laid out the path I followed… but Atara wears hers like her badge of honor. She’s nothing but prideful of her family, and the place she came from, and the faith that she has. The strength she’s pulled from all of that has been unwavering, and inspiring. So if I love her and everything that’s shaped her, I think the only silly thing would be refusing to offer my daughter all of those same things just because it’s a little out of my comfort zone. There’s not a single one of the Themis women that I wouldn’t be proud to see my daughter grow up into, so… I have faith.

He nods slowly, and winks reassuringly at me.

PRIEST
As I said. Faith in anything is still faith, and it’s good. There’s a twinkle in your eye when you speak of this child. Is it your first?

JAMES RAVEN
No. I have a son, his name is Tyler.

He strokes his beard thoughtfully, taking a sip of water as he considers this new information. I decide to jump right to the answers, before he can ask any more questions.

JAMES RAVEN
I was married once. It was a long time ago.

PRIEST
You and I may have slightly different definitions of “a long time ago”. What happened?

Well. There’s a loaded question.

JAMES RAVEN
The short version? I was young. I was with someone that I loved, and I trusted, and I thought I had my life and career figured out and that it was the next logical step. It was what I was always told you were supposed to do, and I jumped in headfirst. We just… we weren’t ready, and we weren’t right… and it took a few years to grow up and figure it out.

PRIEST
Give me a slightly longer version.

JAMES RAVEN
We met when we were 18. We fell in love traveling the world together and we bonded through the business. We were rookies, everything we saw was a new and shared experience and there’s this… electricity… that came with all of that. We were too young and naive to recognize what that was. It felt like passion, I guess, something unique and deep and long lasting. A little while after Tyler was born we walked away. We went to take care of our son and focus on our family, and everything else disappeared. She was my best friend and I loved her, but things just changed. We were 23, and we wanted different things, and we grew further and further apart. Eventually it was just over. I wanted to get back to work, and it made the most sense for Tyler to go with her. They’re in Arizona now.

We sit in silence for a long time. He doesn’t pry further. Eventually I chuckle softly and try to ease the tension.

JAMES RAVEN
Hopefully that’s not a HUGE strike against me.

He shakes his head gently.

PRIEST
We have a saying. We bless the first marriage, we perform the second… it goes on from there, but hopefully I’ll never need to speak to you about any of those parts.

I feel the tightness of excitement in my chest as I try to read between the lines.

He stands up from his chair to extend his hand over the desk to me. Slowly I stand and extend my own. He looks straight into my eyes as he shakes.

PRIEST
It was a pleasure to speak with you, James. I was serious, though. I’d like to go a little deeper on some of the things we talked about sometime, if you’re open to it.

JAMES RAVEN
Of course. Whatever you want, Father. I’m definitely open to it. So just to be clear… you’re good? We’re good? It’s all… it’s all good?

He winks at me again.

PRIEST
We’ll talk more, but I think we’ll be able to figure it out.

I pull his hand toward me and lean in to hug him over the desk. A long and incredibly awkward embrace. I pull away slowly.

JAMES RAVEN
Your beard smells like sandalwood.

PRIEST
Th-thank you.

FADE

OUT



BLINK


I open my eyes, sand squishing between my bare toes as I stand underneath the night sky and stare out across the ocean. The waves lap towards us, an older man and woman standing on either side of me as they tell me the history of this place. The man tells me of a great battle that was fought here many years ago, and of how he used to run the shores as part of his training while his daughters splashed in the surf. The woman tells me a story about the gods, and of how she once brought her granddaughters here to look at the moon and the stars and tell them the same story.

She asks me why I’m still wearing a shirt.

Dirty Yia Yia.

BLINK


I open my eyes, squinting in the bright daylight as The Goddess dances delicately in the shallow water ahead of me. The beach looks different than it had the night before, but the beauty of anything but her is lost on me as she kicks her feet gently in the ankle depth as she walks. She smiles as the beads of water catch the glimmer of the sunlight on their way back down to the surface. She turns slowly to face me, her smile coy as she extends a hand for me to join her.

I hope it never fades.

The sand squishes between my bare toes as it had the night before, and I make my way from the shore to the surf.

Then she asks me why I’m still wearing a shirt.

It must run in the family.

BLINK


Yia Yia likes to instigate. She reminds us of the time I came to Greece and fought him. She nudges him in the ribs, and reminds him that I won. I can see his jaw clench in the moonlight, but he simply rolls his eyes and says nothing. She turns to me and asks if I think I could do it again. I look down at the ground awkwardly, my neck red with embarrassment as I also say nothing.

She calls us both cowards.

I tell them both that I went to the church earlier. I tell them about my conversation with the priest, and everything that came from it. I tell him what I want to do, and what I'd be willing to make it happen and earn the blessings of everyone involved. They both listen to me carefully, and he runs his fingers through thick hair as he thinks.

She asks if I have cute friends that are single. She explains that she has many single grandaughters that are getting old, and that she needs to find suitors for so that her friends will stop laughing at her. I tell her I can handle one of those grandaughters for her now, and I'll work on the rest.

BLINK


Atara takes my hand and lifts it into the air, twirling herself underneath it and spinning slowly and gracefully into my chest. She looks up at me and bats her eyelashes, my hands dropping down and wrapping around to hold her and feel her stomach. She kisses my cheek and whispers softly in my ear. Je T’aime, I whisper back.

The sun beats down on us as we stand in the ocean and look out across the water together. She tells me that she used to come here with her family.

I pretend this is new information.

BLINK


He asks me if I'm doing this out of a sense of obligation. He asks if I really understand what I'm asking him for, or if this is just some attempt to "do the right thing". It seems like a lot of trouble, and a lot of hoops to jump through, he proclaims. Am I ready for this sort of change? He strokes his chin as Yia Yia nods her head in agreement, studying me as if waiting to see if I throw my hands up in the air and quit.

There's no obligation. There’s no trouble.

Nobody asked me to do any of this, but I want to. I tell them this is all I’ve been able to think about for months, and something that’s been building much longer than that... since the moment I met her. There’s no hoops to jump through. There’s just steps to take, and ones I’d take happily to reach what’s on the other side. I spare them the cliches, the sappy verbiage and cheesy imagery. I would do anything I could to help ease her mind, and theirs. Ensuring nobody faces eternal damnation included.

I love her, and in a way that was unimaginable to me. I’d always loved her, but in a way that had been indescribable for me.

Yia Yia asks if we’re talking about the same person. It doesn’t sound like the Atara she knows.

He smiles.

He asks me what I see when I look at her.

BLINK


She spins away from me and continues to dance in the water.

I see hope.

I see someone that has shown me nothing but kindness and understanding, even in my darkest moments, and who’s given me an opportunity to bring more of that into a world that desperately needs it. I see support and inspiration that’s kept me going when I’ve wanted to quit, and I see compassion that has cooled me when I felt spiteful. I see a beacon that draws the love and the goodness out of everyone around her, and pushes me to try and heal old wounds and be better each day than I was the day before. I see the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, full of strength and confidence and grace. Brilliance. Ambition.

I see someone who has never asked or exected me to be anything. Who never needed me to be The People’s G.O.A.T. or unbeatable. Who never cared what I would be next. Who just needed me to be.

And for some unknown reason, she wanted me to be with her.

I see the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, and striving to be better for.

BLINK


They’re both smiling at me. Yia Yia turns away to look up at the stars, taking a deep breath to steady herself in the moment. He puts a hand on my shoulder, and offers only the slightest of nods before turning out to look over the ocean once more.

BLINK


I take a few steps in the water behind Atara. Her back is to me as I approach, her arms stretched out at her sides as she soaks in the sun. Carefully, I slide my hand into my pocket.

BLINK


He tells me I always struck him as the type to make a big show out of a moment like this. Was this really how I wanted to do it? On a beach, away from everyone else? I tell him it feels right. We didn't need anyone else around, our relationship had always been just for us anyways. I just knew I'd wanted to bring her home.

“Good luck, James.”

“Thanks, Eros.”

“You’re still wearing your shirt.”

“Sorry, Yia Yia.”

BLINK


I pull the ring box from my pocket and hold it in my hands, waves crashing into my ankles as my eyes stay locked on Atara. My heart races, breath catching in my throat as I take a few paces closer to her. Her eyes are closed and her face upturned to the sky as the breeze whips strands from behind her ear.

My hand reaches for hers, and I whisper her name.

She turns to me slowly, happy and beaming to be home. She quickly recognizes the change in my expression, her eyebrows furrowing as she tries to figure it out. She looks me up and down, the smile fading ever so slightly as she notices the small box in my hands. Her eyes widen, her lips parting slightly.

I sink slowly to one knee in the water, my eyes never leaving hers as I open the box.

"Atara, will you marry me?"

BLINK


FADE

TO

BLACK
]]> [Image: d8bf8fad8ce74a100e43610f9068bd56.gif]

TORONTO, CANADA

TYLER CAGE
So, I’m picturing an entire section of baddies, right?

Cups in hand, we make our way from the counter and towards the front door of the coffee shop. I pull the glass door open and step aside to allow a young couple to enter, but Tyler bursts through the threshold and onto the sidewalk as if he heard someone fire a starter's pistol. I shrug to the couple apologetically and wave them inside before exiting behind my new employee and “best friend”, still continuing with his pitch.

TYLER CAGE
Every time you cut to Centurion and I at the commentary desk, there’s just a sea of them behind us. They’re jumpin’ up and down, they’re hype as hell, they’re all lookin’ TOO fine… and Cent and I just do our thing, you know? He’d be all “Peter Vaughn is looking good here tonight” and I’ll be like “HELLLLS YEAH HE IS!” but the whole time there’s big titties behind us, right?

I sigh softly, taking a sip from my cup as he turns to walk backwards on the sidewalk in front of me so he can look me in my eyes with that expectant grin of his.

JAMES RAVEN
Uh-huh. What exactly is the point of it?

His grin fades, and he looks befuddled.

JAMES RAVEN
What does it DO for the WGWF?

TYLER CAGE
Are you insane? Half this business is perception, you know that. It makes us look like the place to be! It tells all the guys watching at home that if they come to our shows in their crispest wrestling tees and shave their neckbeards, they might bag themselves a baddie! You gotta imagine it James, like, really try and picture it. You know my fit is gonna be on point. Cent in a suit. A bunch of perfect tens leaning over the railing and screaming our names before you and Chris kick off Monday Night Brawl… the hottest new/old show in wrestling…

JAMES RAVEN
Right.

He shrugs his shoulders indifferently and spins away from me again to my sweet relief. I take another sip from my cup, quietly pulling my cell phone from my pocket and checking the screen for any new messages. Nothing. I drop it back into my pocket as we continue to walk, and Tyler continues to pitch from a few paces ahead of me.

TYLER CAGE
You’re not feeling it yet. That’s cool. It’s not like I’m coming to the table with one idea. Lemme fill the merch booths at the WGWF shows. Branded bikinis, a Baddy of the Month calendar, or-

JAMES RAVEN
I really think you’re narrowing in too hard on one specific lane. Let’s try and think outside of that box a little bit, drift out of your comfort zone and see what you come up with.

He’s quiet for a moment, lost in his own mind. He stops walking in the middle of the sidewalk, blocking the way for an elderly man passing in the opposite direction. Tyler turns to me slowly.

TYLER CAGE
Well, it’s got nothing to do with wrestling, but I did have an idea for a TV show I wanted to talk to you about. It’s kind of awkward to be the guy that starts working with you and day one says “give me my own show”, but I really think it’s got a lot of potential, I just need to work out the details.

I’m taken aback by his sudden sincerity, and grab him by the elbow to drag him over to the edge of the sidewalk and out of the way of the old man (that could have very easily just stepped into the street and passed by now, but chose to be entitled about it) who grumbles and moves on after losing a few of the precious seconds he has left.

JAMES RAVEN
Alright. You’ve got me interested. Let’s hear it.

TYLER CAGE
Well- no, nevermind man, it’s not ready. I shouldn’t have brought it up yet.

JAMES RAVEN
We develop. We produce. Just give me the elevator pitch, it doesn’t need to be fully formed.

He takes a deep breath.

TYLER CAGE
I want to host, like, a reality competition or something. We take ten aspiring baddies and-

JAMES RAVEN
Jesus Christ, Tyler…

I turn away from him and walk off the sidewalk into a small parkette, striding across the grass to a nearby bench that sits in the shade of a giant maple tree. I collapse onto it, taking my phone out again to check for non-existent messages before balancing it on my thigh and taking another sip from my cup as Tyler makes his way over and sits down behind me.

TYLER CAGE
This coffee is trash, in this goofy ass tiny cup…

JAMES RAVEN
It's espresso.

TYLER CAGE
Is that French for trash?

JAMES RAVEN
It’s Italian.

TYLER CAGE
For trash?

I shake my head and sigh, a more and more frequent occurrence with each day he and I spend together. I lean back against the bench, staring absently into space for a long and quiet moment as Tyler pulls the lid off of his cup and pours the remainder of its contents into the grass beside him. He leans back beside me and soaks in the silence for as long as he can. It might have been forty five seconds.

TYLER CAGE
You good, GOAT?

JAMES RAVEN
Yeah, I’m good.

TYLER CAGE
You sure? You’ve been quiet. No jabs, no quips.

JAMES RAVEN
Just preparing you to work with Centurion.

I look down at my phone again. No messages. He points at me immediately, shaking his finger like a parent when reprimanding their child.

TYLER CAGE
And what’s up with that? Why do you keep checking your phone every three minutes? Am I boring you or something?! You got somewhere else you gotta be? ‘Cause I can go if you want, man, it’s a big city but I can find somebaddy to show me around, ya know?

JAMES RAVEN
It’s nothing like that.

TYLER CAGE
So what is it? You can’t bring me to fuckin’ Canada from Los Angeles and then stiff arm me the entire time. Somethings up with you. What’s good? If you’ve got something on your mind or somebody bothering you, let’s take care of it and then start having some fun. I got you.

I can see the spark in his eyes as the adrenaline starts to pump and I instantly hold a hand out to stop him, or at least slow him down.

JAMES RAVEN
Relax! It’s nothing like that. It’s Atty. I’m just checking to see if there’s anything from Atty.

He takes a breath. His eyes soften.

TYLER CAGE
Is everything good?

JAMES RAVEN
It’s great, Tyler. We’re going on a trip.

He lights up excitedly.

TYLER CAGE
AYYYYE! Living that jet-setting life! You guys been planning something, or just taking off somewhere spur of the moment?

JAMES RAVEN
We’re going back to Greece. It’s impromptu, but I’ve been thinking about it for a while.

He nods his head enthusiastically, a smile spreading from ear to ear across his face.

TYLER CAGE
I like it. Maybe I’ll fly out. I can bring a couple of-

JAMES RAVEN
Tyler, if you say the word “baddies” I swear to God you’re fired, and if I see your face in Athens I will end you.

TYLER CAGE
You can’t hog an entire island, bruh. I’m sure there’s plenty of beaches.

JAMES RAVEN
It’s not “an island”. Look at a fucking map.

TYLER CAGE
Why would I look at a map when I’m tryna just go there?! But you’re out here being an entire asshole about it!

I drop my head, rubbing my eyes with my thumb and forefinger. I take a deep breath to calm myself and stop from assaulting this near-child in public.

JAMES RAVEN
I’m not taking her home for a vacation, OK?

TYLER CAGE
So what? You have some little business sum’n sum’n or somethin’?

JAMES RAVEN
No business. No vacation. We just need to go back for a little bit, leave it alone.

He shakes his head furiously, standing up from the bench and standing in front of me on the grass.

TYLER CAGE
Nope. You gotta tell me what’s up, now. This is the most interesting thing you’ve had to talk about all day. If you don’t tell me why you’re going to Greece, then bet I’m gonna run up on you there and find out.

JAMES RAVEN
Shut the fuck up.

TYLER CAGE
I'm not playing. I'll be there in a toga with a baddy feeding me grapes unless you tell me what's up.

I take a deep breath, trying to find the words. He stands patiently, arms crossed and eyes locked on me.

JAMES RAVEN
I just have a few people I need to talk to. Things have changed over the past few months, and I don’t want to waste any more time, you know?

TYLER CAGE
I dunno. Maybe.

JAMES RAVEN
It’s just… like… I don’t know. I’ve spent a few months trying to figure some things out, and it’s been a whirlwind of fucking thoughts and feelings to fight through, and it just finally seems so obvious. I spent so much time worrying about who I used to be, or who I still can be, or what people expect me to be… and there’s really only one thing I want to be… one thing that I think about every day, from the second I wake up until the second I fall asleep again.

He listens carefully, but I get the distinct impression that some of the sentiment is lost on him. I shrug my shoulders, and leave it there.

JAMES RAVEN
Don’t worry about it. I just need to talk to some people, that’s all.

TYLER CAGE
You can talk to me, GOAT. Just stop being so cryptic.

I wink at him.

JAMES RAVEN
Never. I need to talk to different people, but don’t worry. If this weekend goes well, you’ll find out along with everyone else.

He shakes his head in resignation.

TYLER CAGE
Fine. Keep your secrets. Can we at least hit the gym or something?

I feel my phone vibrate and immediately scramble for it, seeing the new message on the display; “I’m ready. Let’s go.”. I pop up from the bench, firing an apologetic look to Tyler as I take a few steps across the grass away from him.

JAMES RAVEN
Sorry, man. I’ve got a flight to catch.

TYLER CAGE
Now?!

JAMES RAVEN
Right now!

TYLER CAGE
What the fuck am I supposed to do?!

JAMES RAVEN
Work!

I turn away from him, breaking out to a near sprint as I take off back towards the coffee shop and the car.

TYLER CAGE
I don’t even know how to get back to the studio! I’M NOT FROM TORONTO YOU DICK!

JAMES RAVEN
I’ll send you an Uber!

I feel bad. I didn’t know I was going to be leaving like this when I asked Tyler to come up from California, but when the time is right… you can’t let it slip away.

TYLER CAGE
You forgot your coffee!

JAMES RAVEN
It’s trash!

Wish me luck, kids. This is the rest of my life that we're talking about.

FADE

OUT


ATHENS, GREECE


He strokes his heavily bearded chin, smiling warmly as he studies me from behind his desk. I can't help but shift slightly in my seat as I offer my own uncomfortable grin and a wiggle of my eyebrows in return. I sink deeper into the plush armchair with each subtle attempt to slide out, and I become painfully self-aware of his eyes on my struggle and resign myself to collapsing fully into the cushions. He says nothing, his hand moving instinctively from his beard to straighten a large golden crucifix hanging around his neck.

JAMES RAVEN
That’s a nice piece. You should be shooting music videos with bling like that.

He continues to smile, and shrugs his shoulders softly.

PRIEST
A bit of the reference is wasted on me, I admit, but I’m sure it was very charming.

Swing and a miss. I feel like my heart is beating in my throat, and I can feel my stomach twisting and tightening nearly enough to double me over. I haven’t spoken to someone like him in a long time. I’m not exactly what you’d call a “true believer”. I shift my eyes off of him and glance around his office as I take a deep breath to steady myself. Rich wood, and earth tones. The wall to my right is lined floor to ceiling with more books than a local library, the wall to my left tall windows that look out over Athens with a stained glass border across the top that casts red and golden hues upon us as we meet.

PRIEST
Relax, James. We’re just chatting. Surely you’ve faced higher stakes than this, before.

JAMES RAVEN
I think you’d be surprised, Father. Am I supposed to call you Father?

PRIEST
Call me whatever puts you at ease.

I nod, but say nothing else. He allows us to steep in the silence, giving me a moment to take a few more calming breaths as he reaches to lift a water pitcher from the corner of his desk and pours two glasses. He offers me one, then leans back and resumes stroking the graying patches of his long and dark beard.

PRIEST
If you don’t mind, tell me a bit of your background…

JAMES RAVEN
You mean, like, my career? You want me to do my whole schtick and rattle off the resume?

He shakes his head with an amused twinkle in his eye.

PRIEST
The championships you’ve won aren’t something that factors in here, I’m afraid. Where are you from? Tell me about your family.

I feel my face grow hot with embarrassment. Right. That makes more sense. I take a deep slug from my water glass and set it down on the desk.

JAMES RAVEN
I was born in Toronto, Canada. My parents lived a comfortable life, and I’m the middle of three children. My father was a doctor, and my mother was… everything… everything you ever needed her to be. She passed away when I was a teenager, and my older brother passed a few years later.

PRIEST
My condolences.

I smile gratefully.

JAMES RAVEN
Thanks, padre. Anyways, my younger sister lives in Virginia Beach right now. She’s awesome, but we don’t see each other often. My dad lives… I don’t even know where. We don’t see each other at all.

He slowly nods, listening carefully. Thankfully he doesn’t pry.

PRIEST
Did faith play any sort of role in your life?

Fuck. I wish he had pried. I suddenly feel like I’m traversing a minefield, the slightest misstep ready to blow me and my aspirations to smithereens. He senses the tension that overtakes me.

PRIEST
James! Relax! I’m just asking you a couple of questions, I’m not here to judge you.

JAMES RAVEN
… yeah you are.

PRIEST
Well, maybe a little bit.

He winks from across the desk.

JAMES RAVEN
My mother was Christian. My father was too, I guess, but it was for her. As soon as she was gone he never went back. I didn’t either. I don’t know that I was ever really bought in before then, though. Faith is a weird word for it. I was interested in philosophy. I believed in the possibility of there being more to life, and stuff like that… but… I don’t know if that’s enough for what you’re asking.

PRIEST
Faith in anything is still faith, and it’s good. I’d like to discuss some of that further with you another time, if you’re open to it.

I nod my head solemnly, biting my tongue to stop myself from telling him that I’d do basically anything he asked me to do at this point if it helped my cause even slightly.

PRIEST
Were you baptized after birth?

JAMES RAVEN
I was, uh… I was not.

PRIEST
Would you perhaps be open to it?

Caught slightly off guard, I glance around the office, my eyes settling on the pitcher of water on the table.

JAMES RAVEN
Now?

PRIEST
No, of course not now. Perhaps soon, though? Something to think about over the next couple of months?

Like I said, I’d do basically anything.

JAMES RAVEN
I’m open to it.

Seemingly satisfied with my anwer, his smile grows somehow warmer. He takes a drink from his glass for the first time, and I take the opportunity to snatch my glass and drain nearly every drop. He pushes the pitcher towards me, motioning for me to refill and settle in.

PRIEST
I understand you have a child on the way. Congratulations, I’m sure you’re very excited.

JAMES RAVEN
Thank you. I am. I can’t appropriately describe it.

PRIEST
What are your plans for the baby? In regards to the church, of course.

For the first time my answer flows off my tongue without the slightest hesitation.

JAMES RAVEN
She’ll be baptized, and she’ll be raised Orthodox. Atara and I bought a house in the Greek neighborhood in Toronto, and we’ve already looked at a few churches.

PRIEST
There’s no objections, or maybe doubts on your end? However small?

I shake my head firmly.

JAMES RAVEN
Not at all. It’s important to Atara, and it’s important to her family. Why would I object?

He shrugs his shoulders casually.

PRIEST
Maybe as someone whose own faith has been, let's call it “vague”, you would find the whole thing a bit silly. Maybe you’d see the energy and belief of others being directed to something intangible, and would find it to be misdirected.

I think about his words carefully, and choose my own even moreso.

JAMES RAVEN
I fell in love with Atara. Everything she is and everything that made her this way. I always kind of chased “what's next”, especially when I was younger, because I didn’t have a lot to look behind me and take pride in. I left home early, and I wore my family name like an albatross around my neck… a constant reminder of my father, the constant shadow of an older brother that laid out the path I followed… but Atara wears hers like her badge of honor. She’s nothing but prideful of her family, and the place she came from, and the faith that she has. The strength she’s pulled from all of that has been unwavering, and inspiring. So if I love her and everything that’s shaped her, I think the only silly thing would be refusing to offer my daughter all of those same things just because it’s a little out of my comfort zone. There’s not a single one of the Themis women that I wouldn’t be proud to see my daughter grow up into, so… I have faith.

He nods slowly, and winks reassuringly at me.

PRIEST
As I said. Faith in anything is still faith, and it’s good. There’s a twinkle in your eye when you speak of this child. Is it your first?

JAMES RAVEN
No. I have a son, his name is Tyler.

He strokes his beard thoughtfully, taking a sip of water as he considers this new information. I decide to jump right to the answers, before he can ask any more questions.

JAMES RAVEN
I was married once. It was a long time ago.

PRIEST
You and I may have slightly different definitions of “a long time ago”. What happened?

Well. There’s a loaded question.

JAMES RAVEN
The short version? I was young. I was with someone that I loved, and I trusted, and I thought I had my life and career figured out and that it was the next logical step. It was what I was always told you were supposed to do, and I jumped in headfirst. We just… we weren’t ready, and we weren’t right… and it took a few years to grow up and figure it out.

PRIEST
Give me a slightly longer version.

JAMES RAVEN
We met when we were 18. We fell in love traveling the world together and we bonded through the business. We were rookies, everything we saw was a new and shared experience and there’s this… electricity… that came with all of that. We were too young and naive to recognize what that was. It felt like passion, I guess, something unique and deep and long lasting. A little while after Tyler was born we walked away. We went to take care of our son and focus on our family, and everything else disappeared. She was my best friend and I loved her, but things just changed. We were 23, and we wanted different things, and we grew further and further apart. Eventually it was just over. I wanted to get back to work, and it made the most sense for Tyler to go with her. They’re in Arizona now.

We sit in silence for a long time. He doesn’t pry further. Eventually I chuckle softly and try to ease the tension.

JAMES RAVEN
Hopefully that’s not a HUGE strike against me.

He shakes his head gently.

PRIEST
We have a saying. We bless the first marriage, we perform the second… it goes on from there, but hopefully I’ll never need to speak to you about any of those parts.

I feel the tightness of excitement in my chest as I try to read between the lines.

He stands up from his chair to extend his hand over the desk to me. Slowly I stand and extend my own. He looks straight into my eyes as he shakes.

PRIEST
It was a pleasure to speak with you, James. I was serious, though. I’d like to go a little deeper on some of the things we talked about sometime, if you’re open to it.

JAMES RAVEN
Of course. Whatever you want, Father. I’m definitely open to it. So just to be clear… you’re good? We’re good? It’s all… it’s all good?

He winks at me again.

PRIEST
We’ll talk more, but I think we’ll be able to figure it out.

I pull his hand toward me and lean in to hug him over the desk. A long and incredibly awkward embrace. I pull away slowly.

JAMES RAVEN
Your beard smells like sandalwood.

PRIEST
Th-thank you.

FADE

OUT



BLINK


I open my eyes, sand squishing between my bare toes as I stand underneath the night sky and stare out across the ocean. The waves lap towards us, an older man and woman standing on either side of me as they tell me the history of this place. The man tells me of a great battle that was fought here many years ago, and of how he used to run the shores as part of his training while his daughters splashed in the surf. The woman tells me a story about the gods, and of how she once brought her granddaughters here to look at the moon and the stars and tell them the same story.

She asks me why I’m still wearing a shirt.

Dirty Yia Yia.

BLINK


I open my eyes, squinting in the bright daylight as The Goddess dances delicately in the shallow water ahead of me. The beach looks different than it had the night before, but the beauty of anything but her is lost on me as she kicks her feet gently in the ankle depth as she walks. She smiles as the beads of water catch the glimmer of the sunlight on their way back down to the surface. She turns slowly to face me, her smile coy as she extends a hand for me to join her.

I hope it never fades.

The sand squishes between my bare toes as it had the night before, and I make my way from the shore to the surf.

Then she asks me why I’m still wearing a shirt.

It must run in the family.

BLINK


Yia Yia likes to instigate. She reminds us of the time I came to Greece and fought him. She nudges him in the ribs, and reminds him that I won. I can see his jaw clench in the moonlight, but he simply rolls his eyes and says nothing. She turns to me and asks if I think I could do it again. I look down at the ground awkwardly, my neck red with embarrassment as I also say nothing.

She calls us both cowards.

I tell them both that I went to the church earlier. I tell them about my conversation with the priest, and everything that came from it. I tell him what I want to do, and what I'd be willing to make it happen and earn the blessings of everyone involved. They both listen to me carefully, and he runs his fingers through thick hair as he thinks.

She asks if I have cute friends that are single. She explains that she has many single grandaughters that are getting old, and that she needs to find suitors for so that her friends will stop laughing at her. I tell her I can handle one of those grandaughters for her now, and I'll work on the rest.

BLINK


Atara takes my hand and lifts it into the air, twirling herself underneath it and spinning slowly and gracefully into my chest. She looks up at me and bats her eyelashes, my hands dropping down and wrapping around to hold her and feel her stomach. She kisses my cheek and whispers softly in my ear. Je T’aime, I whisper back.

The sun beats down on us as we stand in the ocean and look out across the water together. She tells me that she used to come here with her family.

I pretend this is new information.

BLINK


He asks me if I'm doing this out of a sense of obligation. He asks if I really understand what I'm asking him for, or if this is just some attempt to "do the right thing". It seems like a lot of trouble, and a lot of hoops to jump through, he proclaims. Am I ready for this sort of change? He strokes his chin as Yia Yia nods her head in agreement, studying me as if waiting to see if I throw my hands up in the air and quit.

There's no obligation. There’s no trouble.

Nobody asked me to do any of this, but I want to. I tell them this is all I’ve been able to think about for months, and something that’s been building much longer than that... since the moment I met her. There’s no hoops to jump through. There’s just steps to take, and ones I’d take happily to reach what’s on the other side. I spare them the cliches, the sappy verbiage and cheesy imagery. I would do anything I could to help ease her mind, and theirs. Ensuring nobody faces eternal damnation included.

I love her, and in a way that was unimaginable to me. I’d always loved her, but in a way that had been indescribable for me.

Yia Yia asks if we’re talking about the same person. It doesn’t sound like the Atara she knows.

He smiles.

He asks me what I see when I look at her.

BLINK


She spins away from me and continues to dance in the water.

I see hope.

I see someone that has shown me nothing but kindness and understanding, even in my darkest moments, and who’s given me an opportunity to bring more of that into a world that desperately needs it. I see support and inspiration that’s kept me going when I’ve wanted to quit, and I see compassion that has cooled me when I felt spiteful. I see a beacon that draws the love and the goodness out of everyone around her, and pushes me to try and heal old wounds and be better each day than I was the day before. I see the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, full of strength and confidence and grace. Brilliance. Ambition.

I see someone who has never asked or exected me to be anything. Who never needed me to be The People’s G.O.A.T. or unbeatable. Who never cared what I would be next. Who just needed me to be.

And for some unknown reason, she wanted me to be with her.

I see the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, and striving to be better for.

BLINK


They’re both smiling at me. Yia Yia turns away to look up at the stars, taking a deep breath to steady herself in the moment. He puts a hand on my shoulder, and offers only the slightest of nods before turning out to look over the ocean once more.

BLINK


I take a few steps in the water behind Atara. Her back is to me as I approach, her arms stretched out at her sides as she soaks in the sun. Carefully, I slide my hand into my pocket.

BLINK


He tells me I always struck him as the type to make a big show out of a moment like this. Was this really how I wanted to do it? On a beach, away from everyone else? I tell him it feels right. We didn't need anyone else around, our relationship had always been just for us anyways. I just knew I'd wanted to bring her home.

“Good luck, James.”

“Thanks, Eros.”

“You’re still wearing your shirt.”

“Sorry, Yia Yia.”

BLINK


I pull the ring box from my pocket and hold it in my hands, waves crashing into my ankles as my eyes stay locked on Atara. My heart races, breath catching in my throat as I take a few paces closer to her. Her eyes are closed and her face upturned to the sky as the breeze whips strands from behind her ear.

My hand reaches for hers, and I whisper her name.

She turns to me slowly, happy and beaming to be home. She quickly recognizes the change in my expression, her eyebrows furrowing as she tries to figure it out. She looks me up and down, the smile fading ever so slightly as she notices the small box in my hands. Her eyes widen, her lips parting slightly.

I sink slowly to one knee in the water, my eyes never leaving hers as I open the box.

"Atara, will you marry me?"

BLINK


FADE

TO

BLACK
]]> <![CDATA[My Daughter's Alias]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44036 Fri, 08 Jul 2022 20:59:11 -0700 Charlie Nickles]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44036
The Latina Submission Machina, or Máquina de Sumisión Latina as she is known in Mexico, was on a hot streak like none other when she was called up by Chris Page and asked to participate in the first ever Cannabis Cup. Robyn Gonzalez immediately accepted Page’s offer, knowing that this could be the exact opportunity she needed to really cement her position in the industry. At the time of Page’s offer, LSM had just become the youngest woman and only person of color to win the XWF Anarchy championship twice. She was fresh off a major pay-per-view upset over CCPE’s own Elijah Martin, who was known as the most dominant wrestler on Thursday nights until LSM pinned him for the championship belt at Fire & Ice.

Robyn Gonzalez had soared to heights unimaginable in the XWF, yet still, the tragic loss of her mother Maria loomed like a dark shadow over her career. Raised by a single mother, the loss of Maria meant the loss of any family Robyn had ever known. On Maria’s deathbed, she told Robyn to seek out The Nickleman to learn more about her family’s history. The ensuing months of emotional turmoil led LSM on a journey of self-discovery where she finally came to understand that her father was none other than Charlie Nickles himself!

LSM went through great pains to avoid public disclosure of her salacious lineage. She didn’t want anyone to hold her accountable for the sins of her father, and she didn’t want anything to do with the bastard who created her. She had managed to keep her dark secret safe from almost everyone, including Charlie Nickles himself…..but at what cost?

In order to bolster her resume before the Cannibus Cup, LSM went ahead and pinned XWF figurehead Vita Valenteen for the 24/7 Freestyle belt to make herself a double champion. With back-to-back wins over major stars like Vita Valenteen and Elijah Martin for title belts, LSM was sure that it was going to be smooth sailing all the way to the opening round of the tournament.

Then Tommy Wish happened.

Tommy Wish had been crushing on LSM for months, leaving love letters and gifts in her locker room after almost every show. LSM never read the letters, but she always accepted the gifts. She could tell that Tommy Wish was in love with her, but she just didn’t swing that way, and she never reciprocated any interest. At first Tommy Wish was content with the subtle rejections, he could do with just watching LSM from the shadows.

Then La Reina happened.

LSM fell head over heels for a love of her own, and she developed her own little crush on an Anarchy co-star. LSM teamed up with La Reina to defeat Jason Cashe and Elijah Martin in a tag match, and from that moment on LSM had a new sparkle in her eye. In that budding romance Vinnie Lane saw major money: so he booked La Reina against LSM for the Anarchy championship belt at the next pay per view. LSM was the odds-on favorite, and she was considering taking it easy on La Reina to keep the romance alive….

Until the former Freak ruined it all.

Now, LSM needed her father more than ever.


Quote:LEAP OF FAITH

Latina Submission Machina transitions the rollup into an armbar! La Reina is trapped! She’s got nowhere to go!

The referee gets in close to La Reina, checking to see if she’s going to tap out, but La Reina hangs in there. She screams in pain as her arm is twisted in ungodly directions, but she refuses to give in!


Bama: “Vinnie look there goes that libtard photographer again! Probably from FRANCE!”


The photographer sticks his camera right into the face of LSM, leaning in between the ropes to get as close as he can… and when he pulls the trigger, the whole flash bulb assembly explodes!!!


Vinnie Lane: “What the heck just happened?!?!”


Bama: “The French bastard just tried to do La Terrorism!”

LSM screeches and grabs at her face, blinded and burned. She stands and stumbles, and La Reina is right there to scoop her up…


OSIRIS’ JUDGMENT!!!


La Reina makes a cover!


1!


2!!


3!!!



DING! DING! DING!!!


Winner and NEW Anarchy Champion - “La Reina” Daniela Raye-Weathers



Vinnie Lane: “I can’t believe it! I don’t even think La Reina knows what happened to LSM, but she reaps the benefits!”


Bama: “They ain’t done yet Vinnie… LOOK!!”


After La Reina is given her new title and has started heading away to the back…

The cameramen leap into the ring and grab LSM. The now former Anarchy Champion can barely defend herself as the two grab her by the arms and legs and pull her out of the ring.

While flailing, LSM snatches one of the masks away from the face of one of the cameramen, and it reveals…


TOMMY WISH!!!


Bama: “WHAT THE HAY-ULL?!”


Wish and his still-masked accomplice continue dragging LSM away from the arena, kicking and screaming. They soon disappear into the backstage leaving the audience stunned!


Vinnie Lane: “What the heck just happened? Tommy Wish abducted Latina Submission Machina right here in front of our eyes!!”






Why is this happening to me?


At the end of my greatest championship run yet?


Before the biggest tournament of my career?


What did I do to deserve this….


I have the biggest opportunity of my life on the horizon, and I’m shackled to a concrete wall! My bed has mysterious stains on it! The walls are mind numbingly bare! This isn’t supposed to happen to women like me, women who know how to defend themselves!

I sit back against the wall and tuck my head between my legs as the realization sets in that these shackles are never going to budge. A few tears roll down my cheeks as I think about the life I should be living right now. I should be training at world-class gyms to prepare myself for the world-class competition I’m up against. I should be promoting the show on a binational media blitz, because I’m the biggest Lucha star in the Cup! I should be signing autographs, I should be kissing babies, I should be winning La Reina’s heart….but instead I’m trapped here, in this moldy basement room.

Why is this happening to me?

Because I’m attractive? Because I’m young? Because I’m successful? None of these answers sat well in my stomach. I clutch my guts as I feel my empty innards constricting and tightening. I can feel myself beginning to dry heave, but I know I have nothing in my stomach to throw up.

This is the worst day of my life. Worse than the day I learned who mi padre was. Today was even worse than the day mi madre died. I could die today, at any time, if Tommy Wish were to snap. My career is on the verge of dying, my whole life’s work could be wiped out or left by the wayside if Tommy just keeps me here forever.

I lift my head and begin to look around the room…doesn’t Vinnie Lane have drones that follow every XWF star? …..so where’s my drone, and why hasn’t anyone come to help yet?

Does no one care about me? Of course they don’t. I have no family left in this forsaken world. My old friends Dolly and Vita seem to have completely forgotten about me. My mother is dead, and my father doesn’t even know I exist.

I whisper aztec curses beneath my breath as I pull and strain against the iron chains shackling me to the wall. A sudden glow from the necklace around my throat catches my eye and causes me to stop resisting for the moment. I found this necklace in a hidden location in my mom's old house, but I never understood what it meant…until now. Until the moment I needed its power most!


[Image: BOBBREAK2.jpg]


As Charlie falls into the grassy knoll the black hole behind him suddenly rushes to a close. The black hole squeezes in on itself until it disappears entirely. As the camera zooms in on The Nickleman he appears to be free of the blood and gore from the hospital, as if he were cleansed by going through the black hole. Charlie rubs a newfound bump on his head before he rises to his knees, then his feet. The Nickleman looks around and finds himself in the middle of a forest clearing.

Come on, fatso, we have to be quick! If we sit around all day eating cheeseburgers he’s going to come find us!

Charlie looks down and sees the little blonde girl crossing her arms and staring at him with authoritative intent.

What the fuck was in that baggy I snorted…

The girl rolls her eyes before she starts stomping away towards the treeline.

You coming or what?!

Charlie rolls his eyes before he tucks his head and starts jogging after the bossy blonde child.

I still don’t know what’s going on! Who even are you!

If you haven’t figured it out on your own by now, there’s no point in telling you. You’re obviously not smart enough to understand! Just go with me, we’ll get there soon!

Charlie throws his hands into the air in frustration as he follows the little girl into the forest. The two duck under some branches and into some trees, with Charlie having much more difficulty doing so. The Nickleman gets mollywhopped and mollywhacked by more than a few low-hanging fruit branches before the pair finally dip onto a somewhat cleared path amidst the trees. The Nickleman sets to picking splinters and berries out of his hair as the little girl comes to a sudden stop.

Look around for a sign from her…she’ll be able to find us if we channel our minds on her!

What the fuck are you talking about? Did you snort a line from my baggy or something? We need to find a sober fucking adult.

No, look!

The little girl points to a glimmering patch of air on the path in front of them. The few rays of sunshine poking through the treetops reflect off the shimmering figure some ways down the path.

We have to follow her!

What? Why?

Because she needs help, even more than I did!

The little blonde girl takes off running down the path and Charlie has no choice but to follow her. The absent father and the little girl that isn’t his start running down the not-so-well trodden path. They duck between some trees and turn around some rocks as Charlie tries to stay close to the sprinting girl. As the two come upon a particularly tall patch of grass, the blonde child turns back and calls out a startling warning to The Nickleman.

Watch out for the snakes in the grass! They’ll get you when you’re least expecting it!

Huh?!

As the pair sprint through the tall grass The Nickleman feels something beneath his feet. He looks down and sees a snake with a rattling tail! The creature strikes out with its fangs, but The Nickleman is able to jump out of the way! As he looks around mid-sprint he’s able to see that there is a slew of snakes slithering around in the grass beside him. The creatures are only of moderate size, but their rattling tails and sharp fangs would give any man cause to pause. Charlie cocks a curious eyebrow as he notices the heads of the snakes appear to be deformed and distinctly ape-like. If anything the snakes bare a slight resemblance to Bobby Bourbon, Thunder Knuckles, Marf, and Oswald.

Don’t look into their eyes, they’ll mesmerize you!

Charlie shakes his head from side to side as he looks away from the treacherous snakes and continues sprinting after the blonde girl. It doesn’t take long for the pair to pass through the tall grass and come upon the bank of a small river. Charlie puts his hands on his waist and bends over, clearly struggling for breath, but the little girl doesn’t give him any time to pause!

Over there!

She points to a little hobo shack built along the side of the river before she runs towards it.

Wait…I need a sec!

You need a diet, fat man!

Charlie growls instinctively before taking off after the child. As the odd couple nearly reaches the hobo shack, the flotsam front door suddenly barges open! Charlie and the child both stop on a dime as a powerful figure steps out from his little hobo house.

UNKNOWN SOLDIER!

What are you doing here, weirdo?

Unknown Soldier lets out a little ‘hmpph’ as he reaches into his pants pocket. He pulls out a familiar pendant, showing it to the pair. The girl scratches her head, completely unfamiliar with it. Charlie, on the other hand, immediately tries to snatch it away.

Hey, Maria used to have one of those! Were you going through a dead woman’s things?!

Unknown Soldier pulls back as Charlie reaches forward to grab the pendant. Soldier bats Charlie’s hands away before the pendant suddenly glows blue. Charlie steps back as the blonde girl raises a curious eyebrow.

I never saw Maria’s do that before…

Look over there!

As the pendant glows blue we see the shimmering figure of a woman walking down the coast of the riverbank. The pendant suddenly stops glowing as the mirage disappears.

I’m looking for my War Games captain. I heard she’s missing.

And what’s that fancy jewelry doing?

Soldier holds the pendant out for closer inspection.


[Image: 468428705_tp.jpg]


It’s a symbol of dark power I’ve carried with me since I was a child- but it’s not the only one. Witches, warlocks, and weirdos all across the galaxy use these pendants to enhance their powers- and for our purposes, to find each other.

But why would Robyn have one of those?!

Charlie looks between the blonde child and the painted man curiously, not quite sure what the hell they’re talking about.

I just figured she looked the witchy type. The sexy little freak paints half her face up like a damn skeleton, there’s no way she doesn’t have a few laying in her closet and under her bed!

Fair enough. She always did seem a bit ‘off’ to me. Either way though, we need to save her! If I don’t free her from that freak’s little basement, I won’t be able to team her up with Dolly and Vita!

Now what in the ever living fuck are you people talking about? And more importantly, why should I give a fuck about any of it?!

Unknown Soldier and the girl just looked at Charlie and rolled their eyes, clearly already exasperated with his aloofness.

How much explanation could you possibly need, Nickleman?

Well, at least a little more than you’ve given me!

Where do I even begin….


[Image: BOBBREAK2.jpg]


Charlie Nickles sits at a rinky-dink table inside an overly decorated Mexican restaurant. Mexican flags, luchador masks, and even a few bricks from the Alamo are plastered all over the walls of the mostly empty restaurant. Charlie looks around at the decorations a bit before turning back to one of the two menus located on the table. He picks the menu up and starts reading through his options.

Not much to pick from here, eh? Pretty much the same slop all the time it looks like.

Charlie cracks a smile as he puts the menu down and leans back in his chair.

Gosh darn, even when I’m not trying to think of work I’m still thinking of work! Look at me, here in the restaurant with my daughter, and I still can’t get my mind off the match. Shit, it’s not even much of a match at this point, because I’ve clearly pulled away from the whole pack.

They’re all serving up the same slop as one another, Raion Kido and Alias are practically finishing each other’s sentences! Charlie’s pathetic, Charlie’s humiliated, Charlie hasn’t done anything, Charlie hasn’t beat anyone, Charlie’s fat, Charlie’s stupid….god damn, I’m starting to think they have the same ghostwriters!

Charlie shakes his head as his phone starts to ring. Charlie pulls it out of his pocket only to groan when he reads the caller ID.

I I W MNGMT.

Ugggghhh more work shit?

Charlie rejects the call before stuffing his phone back into his pants.

I’m getting job offers all over the world after pinning Crim’! IIW is begging for me to come back to their show and beat up their world champion some more. OCW is desperately trying to book me for a card. Shit, I’ve even gotten a few calls from SPLAT! asking if I’d be interested in getting on twitter again!

God damn, I might just be the biggest star in the whole fucking world. I headline Warfares, I headline Savages, I headline Pay Per Views, and I headline Super Shows! The Brotherhood of Bastards invades IIW and they respond by giving me a fucking job offer. Even Chris Page is kissing my ass and writing me checks these days!

Charlie cracks a laugh as he pats the wallet tucked inside his jeans.

Page’s money is paying for dinner tonight! Cause unlike Alias…I’M EATING GOOD, BABY!

Alias ain’t ate shit but his words since Leap of Faith. I ate up the 24/7 champion and the tag-team champion! Alias complains that he ain’t got shit to eat no more, that there’s nothing left on the menu to fill his appetite- but that ain’t true at all. Corey Smith was running around undaunted and unchallenged for a year, but Alias never saw fit to order him a slice of that! North Korean War Criminal was running around here with a golden waist and a flawless record, but Alias never tried to bite off a piece of that!

There’s plenty of fresh food running around, you just got to get off your ass and go find it! But what did I say earlier? A lazy dog just won’t fucking hunt…and Alias is the laziest dog of all. That hound really screwed the pooch this time, that mangy mutt ain’t done nuthin’ but lay in the corner in a puddle of his own piss since Leap of Faith! No wonder that dog ain’t eating anymore, ain’t getting up to hunt anymore: that dog is damn near dead!

I’ve been running laps around the XWF and eating up everything in sight, but can Alias really say the same? The warpath he was on in 2021…is the warpath I’m on in 2022! I lay waste and I wreak havoc: it's just what I’m known to do at this point. Raion Kido was running around with a perfect record: until I beat him. NKWC was running around with a perfect record: until I beat him. When people compare a match against Charlie Nickles to shooting a free throw they’re right, but they don’t even know it. Charlie Nickles is like a free throw because I’m the ‘and-one’ that happens every time a perfect record gets dunked on!

Charlie pounds the table in joy as he guffaws at his own punchline. The hostess at the other end of the restaurant looks at him curiously but says nothing.

Alias better watch out because I’ve got my back to the basket, and trust me- my fade-away isn’t the same as his! I fade up, up and away over glass ceilings- Alias just fades away from the scene entirely! As it was before it shall be again, or whatever fucking biblical shit he’s spewing nowadays.

Raion Kido better take notes, because this is how you’re supposed to deal with someone that has whooped your ass twice. Kido likes to take the childish route, and then call me predictable?! Every Kido promo can be summarized as follows: He beat X and Y, and his opponent has only beaten Z and Q, and they’ve both beaten W, so clearly Kido is going to win!

Charlie Nickles rolls his eyes at the played-out bit.

Every. Fucking. Time.

And it’s never mattered. Not even once. Who cares about who beat who however many months ago, Raion? X and Z and Y aren’t going to be in that ring with us, it’s just going to be C, R, A, and D, baby- so what do Peter Vaughn and Mark Flynn have to do with any of it?

Shit, what am I supposed to do? Get up here and dismiss all of Raion Kido’s arguments out of hand simply because I just beat Crim’?. You know if you had a cynical mind, you might speculate that I waited this long to address any of Kido’s bullshit intentionally, just so it had time to really sink in and spread all over the airwaves. Kido’s been telling everyone for three weeks that I can’t beat HIM, because I couldn’t beat Mark Flynn and the Crim’.

And now I’m fresh off a singles win over Crim’- the only one in history. If I got up here and just talked about THAT, well, that alone would take all the wind out of Raion’s sails and knock his house of cards right down. Because I mean, if it’s all about WHO beat WHO and WHEN they did it…well…C beat NKW-C one-on-one just a few nights ago…and WHO else has ever done that?

Kido’s own logic would crown me champion on that basis alone.

Charlie shook his head from side to side as he leaned forward in his chair and clasped his hands together.

It’s a shame it doesn’t work like that.

Because in reality, nothing that happens before that bell rings will really matter. All that’s going to matter is what happens during the match. The only matter anyone’s going to see in the match will be the brain matter of my opponents, flung all across the ring!

I’m coming to the Cannabis Cup and I’m laying it all on the line inside that ring, just like I’m known to do in every main event far and wide. So what if the match isn’t *officially* the main event? We all know everyone’s going to tune out after they see the big match, and that’s why it’s still the main event, baby!

I’m Mr. Main Event, and it’s about damn time I got that strap put around my waist to prove it. I’m more than ready to be the universal champion damn it, because I’ve been the acting uni champ for the last four fucking months! Since Alias became ‘that guy’ again, he’s only beaten ME…and Big Preesh. I beat the shit out of ‘unbeaten’ Jason Cashe, and then the very next week I became the only person in HISTORY to beat Crim’ one-on-one, so shit, why the fuck don’t I have a belt to defend against these guys? I’m the fighting champ’ everyone wants a piece of, I’m the fightin’ champ this company deserves, I’m just not the guy with the fucking belt!

It’s insane if you think about it. I orchestrated the fall of Jim Caedus, and then management straight fucked me out of a match with Peter Vaughn. And now I’m sitting here, main eventing show after show, pinning TOP GUY after TOP GUY- and what’s Alias doing? Just beating Charlie Nickles every two months?.....Would Alias say that he’s doing impressive work? Because I know I’m doing some of the most impressive work this federation has EVER SEEN, straight up! I know I’m doing the most impressive work War Crim’ has ever seen. So now it’s time to put that fucking belt where it belongs!

Charlie scoffs at the situation before picking his menu back up and mindlessly looking at it.

I would be a better uni champ than Alias, and that’s not even in dispute by this point. I show up on cable, not only that- I show out! I bite any DiOGee who thinks they’re tough enough to test my bark. I drive ratings, I drive stories, I make the fucking wheels on this bus go round and round! Alias just sleeps in the backseat and gets out for a quick piss break every couple of months.

And shit, what the fuck would Raion Kido even do as champion? Turn the belt into a god-damned comic book prop? Raion Kido isn’t grown enough to handle the responsibilities of being the champion. Raion Kido isn’t mature enough for that role. That Kiddo’s not like me, that Kido doesn’t have any experience carrying the weight of a whole federation on his shoulders. He hasn’t been in the main event since I last put him there, so how could he ever be in a main event without me?! There’s just no precedent for it!

Raion’s whole shtick in the XWF is that he’s the guy who can beat ANYONE- except for Charlie Nickles! So what the fuck would having the uni belt around his waist do for him? I’ve been hunting the uni like a crazed dog ever since January, and if I don’t win it now, I’m not going to fucking stop! I’ll come after Kido like I came after Alias, like I came after Caedus. And then what’s he going to do when we’re booked one-on-one? We all already know the answer to that one.

Charlie looks smugly into the camera before a little smile creeps across his bearded face.

I’m a great white shark baby and I smell the scent of blood in my tank. I’ve been sniffing it since January, and I’ve been hot on the trail ever since. I’m coming to the Cannabis Cup with six months of championship-chasing behind me, with over 300 days as an XWF title-holder under my belt, with a bellyful of rage and a mouth full of venom!

I ain’t never going to stop chasing the uni til’ I win it, and then you can bet your ass that I’m never going to let it go! But I won’t be a whimpering pussy that ducks challenge after challenge, the way Alias-chicken that he is-DUCKED my invitation to show his ass in Columbus. When I’m the uni champ I’ll go wherever the people want me to go, and I’ll lay the smack down on any motherfucker that dares step to me at any place, any time.

THE WAY A TRUE CHAMPION SHOULD! The way that Alias never has, and the way that Raion Kido never will!

Charlie chuckles to himself before a quiet Mexican doll tucked away in the corner catches his eye.

And don’t even get me started on what kind of champion Dolly Waters would be. She’d be just like the last blonde bitch, and barely ever show up to work. That dumb bitch wasn’t even able to make all her scheduled appearances to promote the show, how the fuck would she ever promote the company as it’s champion? Dolly Waters got her panties twisted in a bunch cause I told some tall tales and white lies about her, does anyone really think she could handle the pressure of being the universal champion? Is she the kinda gal that can handle the heat inside those kitchens? I don’t think so. If Dolly ever became the uni champ, then she would REALLY draw my ire…and I don’t think she wants that. I don’t even know what Dolly would do when I started to fuck her pussy with an umbrella. I wonder how loud she’d scream when it opens?

As Charlie looks back towards the menu his eyes are finally able to settle an appetizing order.

Tequila shots! I’ll definitely have to get her some of these when she gets out of the bathroom. Speaking of, she’s been in there a long time…

Charlie sets his menu down as he glances over to the restrooms set back in the far wall of the restaurant. The camera fades out as Charlie looks across the restaurant and waits for his dining partner to come back to the table.


[Image: BOBBREAK2.jpg]

We cut back to a shot of Charlie Nickles, Unknown Soldier, and a small blonde child standing outside a hobo shack next to a river. Charlie has his hand on his chin, like he’s deep in thought. The child and Soldier, meanwhile, look exasperated beyond belief.

So you’re telling me we are in an alternate dimension right now? The dimension of space that opens up in the time gap between Warfare and Savage? And that XWF roster members who rarely show up on television sometimes get trapped here between appearances? What the fuck? Why haven’t I ever been here before?!

Because you’re booked for almost every show, Charlie!

But you’re getting booked a lot too, Soldier! And I don’t know who that little girl is, but I think I’ve seen her around from time to time!

You have seen her around from time-to-time, mostly on Thursday nights, and that’s quite literally why the fuck she’s here!

So why are you here! And why am I here?!

I’m here because I used to live here, you idiot! I had to come get some old shit, and then when my pendant started going crazy I realized someone else who shouldn’t be here anymore was here, too!

Me?

No, you idiot! My War Games Captain!

But what does any of this have to do with me?!?!

Soldier and the girl roll their eyes before burying their faces in their hands.

Why is everyone being so cryptic and weird?!

It’s the curse of the phantom that roams these lands, Charlie!

He used to live here, in between appearances on the shows! He even tried to get his ashy left hand in my pants one time!

But recently, as traces and appearances of him have become more faint, his impression here too has diminished. Now he roams these lands as a phantom, a ghost in the shell of this federation that just won’t, or perhaps CAN’T, leave. But he’s become hungry, eternally, because a starving phantom can never eat.

But he can kill!

I still don’t get what any of this has to do with me.

She must have called you here!

It’s possible.

Who’s she?

Soldier and the child answer at the same time, causing Charlie to look even more confused.

Robyn! She’s the one who sent that mirage into the hospital to save me, and she led us here!

My War Games captain! She called out my name in this great mystical ritual of witches and warlocks, known as ‘The Draft’....and I knew I had to come save her. She must have called out for you as well, but I honestly can’t imagine why. You’re kind of fat and useless.

HEY!

But he’s here somehow…how could that be?! I explicitly started living here so that I wouldn’t have to see him anymore! He shouldn’t be in this plane of existence at all!

I’m not sure, but with the dark power of the pendant we may just find out.

What are you talking abou-

Without answering, Soldier presses the pendant against Charlie’s forehead. The necklace glows red, as Charlie begins convulsing. The Nickleman’s arms begin to shake as green foam starts fizzing out of his mouth and down his chin.

What’s happening?!

The magic is working!

As Charlie stands tall he feels a sudden shock inside his skull, and his vision goes blank. While he still stands beside the blonde child and the true dark magician, his mind and soul are pulled into another dimension entirely: into the memories of the pendant. A cloudy fog overtakes The Nickleman as he sees himself soaring out of the sky towards a nice house in the middle of the desert. He falls through the ceiling, feeling no pain, until his perspective suddenly stills. His gaze is forcibly fixated on a familiar woman in a familiar room. In her arms, a newborn infant coos and caws.

Maria?

The woman dots the child’s nose before placing her inside of a multicolor crib with green, white, and red railings. The child laughs as a single tear drops down from the woman’s eye into the child's crib. Atop the crib sits a mobile, but instead of something cheery, dead rats are swinging around in a circle. Around the woman’s neck sits that same familiar pendant.

Lamento que tu padre no esté aquí para ti, Robyn. Pero no te preocupes, hija: lo maldeciré con mil rencores por su insolencia.

Is that….a baby LSM?

The woman leaves the child to nap in the crib as she walks out of the room and into the hall. Charlie’s perspective follows her, and he sees her walking down the stairs of the family home. The woman Charlie recognizes as Maria walks through the very same living room that he saw dozens of times while he was shacking up with her. But when Maria went to the bookcase, however, Charlie saw something he had never seen before: a secret passageway. Maria pulls a book off the shelf and suddenly the bookcase turns around to reveal a secret stairway. The woman goes down the dark stairwell, and of course Charlie’s perspective follows. Partway down the stairs the woman pauses as she hears a child crying upstairs. She sighs and shakes her head.

Si tan solo su padre no fuera un bastardo, alguien podría estar ahí para ella siempre.

The woman continues descending down the staircase until she gets to the bottom and flicks on the lightswitch. Charlie’s mind is completely rattled when he sees a shrine dedicated to himself, adorned with a few locks of his hair and a Mexican birth certificate. Charlie's perspective zooms past Maria and towards the shrine. As Maria begins a witchy ritual, Charlie’s perspective is locked onto the words on the paper.

Chares Nichols nunca conocerá la paz en su vida, no mientras su hija nunca conozca a su padre. Con este fin, mi Dios oscuro, te ruego. Te doy mi vida, soy tuyo para recordar si esto se hará.

Charlie’s mind and soul slowly floated away from the shrine after he read the names on the paper.

Nombre: Robyn Gonzalez
Madre: Maria Gonzalez
Padre: Charles Nichols (Ciudadano extranjero)

Charlie’s perspective floated away, right past the screaming child all alone in her crib. Charlie tried to reach out for the infant, but he couldn’t move at all, he was being pulled back to another dimension entirely. As Charlie was forced to abandon the scene, he thought back to the choices he made all those decades ago, his choice to abandon Maria.
Could he be the father of Maria’s child?

As Charlie floated into the sky high above the home he broke, he knew in his heart that it was true. The Family Man finally realized, after 20 long years, that he had a child in need of saving.


CHARLIE! CHARLIE! CHARLIE!


Charlie blinked his eyes a few times as he awoke on the ground just outside the hobo shack. He pushed himself up to the ground and dusted the dirt off himself as Soldier held the glowing pendant out in front of him.

What happened?! You collapsed!

What did you see?!

I think I saw my daughter….

She’s here, too?

Charlie turned back towards the Unknown Soldier, his awe-struck face betraying his sudden realization.

She’s the one who’s been here for months….my daughter’s wrestling Alias is the name of your War Games captain.

The little girls nods in understanding.

It makes perfect sense! That’s why we’re all here together in an alternate reality, somehow united under a common banner! I want to bring LSM, Dolly, and Vita into a faction under my management. Unknown Soldier wants to start strategizing with his War Games captain. And you….you want to rescue your daughter!

Well what are we waiting for?!

We should go before the phantom finds us again!

If we all channel our minds together and place our hands on the pendant, perhaps we can find her and save her!

Unknown Soldier holds the red glowing pendant out and everyone quickly places their hands on it as they close their hands. The three unlikely allies concentrate hard on their common linkage: The Nickleman’s daughter. As the three put their minds together and concentrate, a sudden burst of light shoots out of the pendant. As the three open their eyes they see a mirage of a woman with a half-painted face, standing in front of a light green portal to parts unknown.

Let’s go!

Charlie charges through the portal, but before Soldier and the girl can follow it suddenly closes!

Charlie, you broke the spell!

Wait!

It’s too late. Charlie is already gone, chasing after his lost daughter in this zany dimension of reality. As The Nickleman enters the portal he immediately feels his body start to float amidst a sea of darkness. There is nothing to observe: no sights, no sounds, no sensations at all. There is just one Family Man, chasing after the only daughter he has never known.

After what feels like an eternity within the nothingness, Charlie suddenly plops down onto the hard ground.

Who’s there?!

As Charlie looks up he finds himself trapped inside a dark room. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and shakes it from side-to-side to activate the flashlight app. As he does so, LSM immediately closes her eyes and looks away, pulling on her chains to do so.

ROBYN!

Charlie?

LSM squints past the light and pulls on her chains as she lunges forward.

GET ME OUT OF HERE!

That’s the plan!

Charlie sets the phone/flashlight down on the only piece of furniture in the room: a moldy looking bed. Charlie immediately rushes over to his latina daughter and starts messing with her chains.

These are locked! I’ve tried opening them for weeks!

The shackles immediately click open.

WHAT THE? HOW’D YOU DO THAT?!

Charlie looks at his daugther with a big ol’ smile.

When you’ve resisted arrest as many times as I have, you learn a trick or two! Maybe I can teach you sometime…daughter.

Robyn is immediately taken aback. She pauses, frozen for a few seconds, before a huge smile flashes across her face. She grabs Charlie and pulls him in for a big, wholesome hug.

I love you too, but we should probably get out of here and get something to eat! I’m starving!

Get me the fuck out of here!

The hug breaks and the two immediately sprint for the door after Charlie grabs his phone.

It’s probably locked!

Charlie walks up to the door and pushes it open before turning back to Robyn.

It wasn’t locked- you were just chained up. Lazy security, I guess.

I hate Tommy Wish!

Well that will certainly be interesting. Now come on, baby girl- we got a show to make!

Charlie gestures for his daughter to follow him as he leads the way out her personal prison, his cellphone’s flashlight serving as the guiding light for LSM’s salvation. She balls her hands into fists as she follows Charlie out of the room, up the stairs, and into the light of day for the first time in months.

[Image: BOBBREAK2.jpg]


As Charlie sits at the table, still perusing the menu of the restaurant, he is suddenly joined at the table by a painted-up LSM! Charlie flashes a smile as he greets his daughter upon her return.

It’s good to see you again! I swear you took months in there!

Robyn laughs as she picks up the menu and starts looking it over.

Look dad, girls take a long time in the bathroom! I had to do my makeup.

LSM puts her menu down and gives her dad a warm smile as she shows off her painted face.

How’s it look? It’s the first time I’ve ever done it myself.

It looks amazing!

As Charlie is in the middle of lovebombing the young daughter he abandoned, the waitress finally walks up to the table with a notepad and a pen in her hands.

So, have we decided what we want?

Charlie turns to the waitress and places his order as he hands her the menu.

Three little piggies in a blanket, please!

....I guess we can do that?

And four shots of Tequila, please!

Charlie looks over to Robyn, who is quickly looking through the menu to find her order.

Actually- make it five! I think my daughter will probably want one.

The waitress makes some marks on her pad before she turns to LSM.

And for you? Anything to eat, or just the shot of Tequila?

I just want something with a wish-bone, please. It can be from meats unknown, just tell the chef to have a little mercy on me, okay?

LSM politely hands the waitress the menu as she shrugs.

Sure, I guess we can do that, too. Strange orders from you two…

As the waitress walks off with a bit of sass Charlie scowls in her direction.

That’s going to hurt her tip.

Oh come on dad, you need to be nicer to people! Especially Dolly! The things you said to her were foul.

Oh come on Robyn, I didn’t mean any of that shit I said about Dolly. I was just trying to get under her skin- and it worked! While I was busy beating Crim’, something Dolly ain’t done in six years here, she was busy crying her eyes out and going through my old videos, trying to find some sort of contradiction! But there ain’t no contradiction!

CHARLIE AND DOLLY ARE THE BEST!

That’s why I had to make up a bunch of shit about Dolly to make her feel bad and make her take her eyes off the prize. Now she’s completely distracted, and she’s too caught up in her emotions to even focus on the match. What’s funny is Dolly called it out as it was happening: even she observed the fact that I was saying anything I could to throw dirt on her name….and the pretty little bitch still ate it all up!

Charlie cracked a hearty guffaw as he pounded the table in merry joy. Robyn, however, crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at her father.

You really should apologize to her for what you said. She’s my friend too, you know!

Charlie rolls his eyes and sighs before he leans forward in his chair and looks his daughter in the eyes.

Oh come on, caught me some slack. I’ll make it up to her, I’ll do something real special for her sometime after War Games, after it’s all had some time to cool down. We’ll all be back to smoking dope and chugging booze together in no time!

Robyn rolls her eyes and bites her tongue as she briefly looks away. Charlie holds his arms out at his sides, as if to say ‘cut me a break’. Robyn sighs before turning back to her dad with undue gratidude.

I understand…and hey- thanks for saving my life.

Oh, don’t even mention it! You’re my daughter now, Robyn, and that means I’d do anything to keep you safe!

I appreciate it.

I love you, Robyn!

Robyn smiles from ear-to-ear as she blushes. She looks away form the camera as the scene slowly fades to black.

I love you too, dad.

Now let's make sure to eat quick...I'm excited to take you to the Velvet Rabbit for the show! It's every father's dream to bring their child to the strip club!
]]>
The Latina Submission Machina, or Máquina de Sumisión Latina as she is known in Mexico, was on a hot streak like none other when she was called up by Chris Page and asked to participate in the first ever Cannabis Cup. Robyn Gonzalez immediately accepted Page’s offer, knowing that this could be the exact opportunity she needed to really cement her position in the industry. At the time of Page’s offer, LSM had just become the youngest woman and only person of color to win the XWF Anarchy championship twice. She was fresh off a major pay-per-view upset over CCPE’s own Elijah Martin, who was known as the most dominant wrestler on Thursday nights until LSM pinned him for the championship belt at Fire & Ice.

Robyn Gonzalez had soared to heights unimaginable in the XWF, yet still, the tragic loss of her mother Maria loomed like a dark shadow over her career. Raised by a single mother, the loss of Maria meant the loss of any family Robyn had ever known. On Maria’s deathbed, she told Robyn to seek out The Nickleman to learn more about her family’s history. The ensuing months of emotional turmoil led LSM on a journey of self-discovery where she finally came to understand that her father was none other than Charlie Nickles himself!

LSM went through great pains to avoid public disclosure of her salacious lineage. She didn’t want anyone to hold her accountable for the sins of her father, and she didn’t want anything to do with the bastard who created her. She had managed to keep her dark secret safe from almost everyone, including Charlie Nickles himself…..but at what cost?

In order to bolster her resume before the Cannibus Cup, LSM went ahead and pinned XWF figurehead Vita Valenteen for the 24/7 Freestyle belt to make herself a double champion. With back-to-back wins over major stars like Vita Valenteen and Elijah Martin for title belts, LSM was sure that it was going to be smooth sailing all the way to the opening round of the tournament.

Then Tommy Wish happened.

Tommy Wish had been crushing on LSM for months, leaving love letters and gifts in her locker room after almost every show. LSM never read the letters, but she always accepted the gifts. She could tell that Tommy Wish was in love with her, but she just didn’t swing that way, and she never reciprocated any interest. At first Tommy Wish was content with the subtle rejections, he could do with just watching LSM from the shadows.

Then La Reina happened.

LSM fell head over heels for a love of her own, and she developed her own little crush on an Anarchy co-star. LSM teamed up with La Reina to defeat Jason Cashe and Elijah Martin in a tag match, and from that moment on LSM had a new sparkle in her eye. In that budding romance Vinnie Lane saw major money: so he booked La Reina against LSM for the Anarchy championship belt at the next pay per view. LSM was the odds-on favorite, and she was considering taking it easy on La Reina to keep the romance alive….

Until the former Freak ruined it all.

Now, LSM needed her father more than ever.


Quote:LEAP OF FAITH

Latina Submission Machina transitions the rollup into an armbar! La Reina is trapped! She’s got nowhere to go!

The referee gets in close to La Reina, checking to see if she’s going to tap out, but La Reina hangs in there. She screams in pain as her arm is twisted in ungodly directions, but she refuses to give in!


Bama: “Vinnie look there goes that libtard photographer again! Probably from FRANCE!”


The photographer sticks his camera right into the face of LSM, leaning in between the ropes to get as close as he can… and when he pulls the trigger, the whole flash bulb assembly explodes!!!


Vinnie Lane: “What the heck just happened?!?!”


Bama: “The French bastard just tried to do La Terrorism!”

LSM screeches and grabs at her face, blinded and burned. She stands and stumbles, and La Reina is right there to scoop her up…


OSIRIS’ JUDGMENT!!!


La Reina makes a cover!


1!


2!!


3!!!



DING! DING! DING!!!


Winner and NEW Anarchy Champion - “La Reina” Daniela Raye-Weathers



Vinnie Lane: “I can’t believe it! I don’t even think La Reina knows what happened to LSM, but she reaps the benefits!”


Bama: “They ain’t done yet Vinnie… LOOK!!”


After La Reina is given her new title and has started heading away to the back…

The cameramen leap into the ring and grab LSM. The now former Anarchy Champion can barely defend herself as the two grab her by the arms and legs and pull her out of the ring.

While flailing, LSM snatches one of the masks away from the face of one of the cameramen, and it reveals…


TOMMY WISH!!!


Bama: “WHAT THE HAY-ULL?!”


Wish and his still-masked accomplice continue dragging LSM away from the arena, kicking and screaming. They soon disappear into the backstage leaving the audience stunned!


Vinnie Lane: “What the heck just happened? Tommy Wish abducted Latina Submission Machina right here in front of our eyes!!”






Why is this happening to me?


At the end of my greatest championship run yet?


Before the biggest tournament of my career?


What did I do to deserve this….


I have the biggest opportunity of my life on the horizon, and I’m shackled to a concrete wall! My bed has mysterious stains on it! The walls are mind numbingly bare! This isn’t supposed to happen to women like me, women who know how to defend themselves!

I sit back against the wall and tuck my head between my legs as the realization sets in that these shackles are never going to budge. A few tears roll down my cheeks as I think about the life I should be living right now. I should be training at world-class gyms to prepare myself for the world-class competition I’m up against. I should be promoting the show on a binational media blitz, because I’m the biggest Lucha star in the Cup! I should be signing autographs, I should be kissing babies, I should be winning La Reina’s heart….but instead I’m trapped here, in this moldy basement room.

Why is this happening to me?

Because I’m attractive? Because I’m young? Because I’m successful? None of these answers sat well in my stomach. I clutch my guts as I feel my empty innards constricting and tightening. I can feel myself beginning to dry heave, but I know I have nothing in my stomach to throw up.

This is the worst day of my life. Worse than the day I learned who mi padre was. Today was even worse than the day mi madre died. I could die today, at any time, if Tommy Wish were to snap. My career is on the verge of dying, my whole life’s work could be wiped out or left by the wayside if Tommy just keeps me here forever.

I lift my head and begin to look around the room…doesn’t Vinnie Lane have drones that follow every XWF star? …..so where’s my drone, and why hasn’t anyone come to help yet?

Does no one care about me? Of course they don’t. I have no family left in this forsaken world. My old friends Dolly and Vita seem to have completely forgotten about me. My mother is dead, and my father doesn’t even know I exist.

I whisper aztec curses beneath my breath as I pull and strain against the iron chains shackling me to the wall. A sudden glow from the necklace around my throat catches my eye and causes me to stop resisting for the moment. I found this necklace in a hidden location in my mom's old house, but I never understood what it meant…until now. Until the moment I needed its power most!


[Image: BOBBREAK2.jpg]


As Charlie falls into the grassy knoll the black hole behind him suddenly rushes to a close. The black hole squeezes in on itself until it disappears entirely. As the camera zooms in on The Nickleman he appears to be free of the blood and gore from the hospital, as if he were cleansed by going through the black hole. Charlie rubs a newfound bump on his head before he rises to his knees, then his feet. The Nickleman looks around and finds himself in the middle of a forest clearing.

Come on, fatso, we have to be quick! If we sit around all day eating cheeseburgers he’s going to come find us!

Charlie looks down and sees the little blonde girl crossing her arms and staring at him with authoritative intent.

What the fuck was in that baggy I snorted…

The girl rolls her eyes before she starts stomping away towards the treeline.

You coming or what?!

Charlie rolls his eyes before he tucks his head and starts jogging after the bossy blonde child.

I still don’t know what’s going on! Who even are you!

If you haven’t figured it out on your own by now, there’s no point in telling you. You’re obviously not smart enough to understand! Just go with me, we’ll get there soon!

Charlie throws his hands into the air in frustration as he follows the little girl into the forest. The two duck under some branches and into some trees, with Charlie having much more difficulty doing so. The Nickleman gets mollywhopped and mollywhacked by more than a few low-hanging fruit branches before the pair finally dip onto a somewhat cleared path amidst the trees. The Nickleman sets to picking splinters and berries out of his hair as the little girl comes to a sudden stop.

Look around for a sign from her…she’ll be able to find us if we channel our minds on her!

What the fuck are you talking about? Did you snort a line from my baggy or something? We need to find a sober fucking adult.

No, look!

The little girl points to a glimmering patch of air on the path in front of them. The few rays of sunshine poking through the treetops reflect off the shimmering figure some ways down the path.

We have to follow her!

What? Why?

Because she needs help, even more than I did!

The little blonde girl takes off running down the path and Charlie has no choice but to follow her. The absent father and the little girl that isn’t his start running down the not-so-well trodden path. They duck between some trees and turn around some rocks as Charlie tries to stay close to the sprinting girl. As the two come upon a particularly tall patch of grass, the blonde child turns back and calls out a startling warning to The Nickleman.

Watch out for the snakes in the grass! They’ll get you when you’re least expecting it!

Huh?!

As the pair sprint through the tall grass The Nickleman feels something beneath his feet. He looks down and sees a snake with a rattling tail! The creature strikes out with its fangs, but The Nickleman is able to jump out of the way! As he looks around mid-sprint he’s able to see that there is a slew of snakes slithering around in the grass beside him. The creatures are only of moderate size, but their rattling tails and sharp fangs would give any man cause to pause. Charlie cocks a curious eyebrow as he notices the heads of the snakes appear to be deformed and distinctly ape-like. If anything the snakes bare a slight resemblance to Bobby Bourbon, Thunder Knuckles, Marf, and Oswald.

Don’t look into their eyes, they’ll mesmerize you!

Charlie shakes his head from side to side as he looks away from the treacherous snakes and continues sprinting after the blonde girl. It doesn’t take long for the pair to pass through the tall grass and come upon the bank of a small river. Charlie puts his hands on his waist and bends over, clearly struggling for breath, but the little girl doesn’t give him any time to pause!

Over there!

She points to a little hobo shack built along the side of the river before she runs towards it.

Wait…I need a sec!

You need a diet, fat man!

Charlie growls instinctively before taking off after the child. As the odd couple nearly reaches the hobo shack, the flotsam front door suddenly barges open! Charlie and the child both stop on a dime as a powerful figure steps out from his little hobo house.

UNKNOWN SOLDIER!

What are you doing here, weirdo?

Unknown Soldier lets out a little ‘hmpph’ as he reaches into his pants pocket. He pulls out a familiar pendant, showing it to the pair. The girl scratches her head, completely unfamiliar with it. Charlie, on the other hand, immediately tries to snatch it away.

Hey, Maria used to have one of those! Were you going through a dead woman’s things?!

Unknown Soldier pulls back as Charlie reaches forward to grab the pendant. Soldier bats Charlie’s hands away before the pendant suddenly glows blue. Charlie steps back as the blonde girl raises a curious eyebrow.

I never saw Maria’s do that before…

Look over there!

As the pendant glows blue we see the shimmering figure of a woman walking down the coast of the riverbank. The pendant suddenly stops glowing as the mirage disappears.

I’m looking for my War Games captain. I heard she’s missing.

And what’s that fancy jewelry doing?

Soldier holds the pendant out for closer inspection.


[Image: 468428705_tp.jpg]


It’s a symbol of dark power I’ve carried with me since I was a child- but it’s not the only one. Witches, warlocks, and weirdos all across the galaxy use these pendants to enhance their powers- and for our purposes, to find each other.

But why would Robyn have one of those?!

Charlie looks between the blonde child and the painted man curiously, not quite sure what the hell they’re talking about.

I just figured she looked the witchy type. The sexy little freak paints half her face up like a damn skeleton, there’s no way she doesn’t have a few laying in her closet and under her bed!

Fair enough. She always did seem a bit ‘off’ to me. Either way though, we need to save her! If I don’t free her from that freak’s little basement, I won’t be able to team her up with Dolly and Vita!

Now what in the ever living fuck are you people talking about? And more importantly, why should I give a fuck about any of it?!

Unknown Soldier and the girl just looked at Charlie and rolled their eyes, clearly already exasperated with his aloofness.

How much explanation could you possibly need, Nickleman?

Well, at least a little more than you’ve given me!

Where do I even begin….


[Image: BOBBREAK2.jpg]


Charlie Nickles sits at a rinky-dink table inside an overly decorated Mexican restaurant. Mexican flags, luchador masks, and even a few bricks from the Alamo are plastered all over the walls of the mostly empty restaurant. Charlie looks around at the decorations a bit before turning back to one of the two menus located on the table. He picks the menu up and starts reading through his options.

Not much to pick from here, eh? Pretty much the same slop all the time it looks like.

Charlie cracks a smile as he puts the menu down and leans back in his chair.

Gosh darn, even when I’m not trying to think of work I’m still thinking of work! Look at me, here in the restaurant with my daughter, and I still can’t get my mind off the match. Shit, it’s not even much of a match at this point, because I’ve clearly pulled away from the whole pack.

They’re all serving up the same slop as one another, Raion Kido and Alias are practically finishing each other’s sentences! Charlie’s pathetic, Charlie’s humiliated, Charlie hasn’t done anything, Charlie hasn’t beat anyone, Charlie’s fat, Charlie’s stupid….god damn, I’m starting to think they have the same ghostwriters!

Charlie shakes his head as his phone starts to ring. Charlie pulls it out of his pocket only to groan when he reads the caller ID.

I I W MNGMT.

Ugggghhh more work shit?

Charlie rejects the call before stuffing his phone back into his pants.

I’m getting job offers all over the world after pinning Crim’! IIW is begging for me to come back to their show and beat up their world champion some more. OCW is desperately trying to book me for a card. Shit, I’ve even gotten a few calls from SPLAT! asking if I’d be interested in getting on twitter again!

God damn, I might just be the biggest star in the whole fucking world. I headline Warfares, I headline Savages, I headline Pay Per Views, and I headline Super Shows! The Brotherhood of Bastards invades IIW and they respond by giving me a fucking job offer. Even Chris Page is kissing my ass and writing me checks these days!

Charlie cracks a laugh as he pats the wallet tucked inside his jeans.

Page’s money is paying for dinner tonight! Cause unlike Alias…I’M EATING GOOD, BABY!

Alias ain’t ate shit but his words since Leap of Faith. I ate up the 24/7 champion and the tag-team champion! Alias complains that he ain’t got shit to eat no more, that there’s nothing left on the menu to fill his appetite- but that ain’t true at all. Corey Smith was running around undaunted and unchallenged for a year, but Alias never saw fit to order him a slice of that! North Korean War Criminal was running around here with a golden waist and a flawless record, but Alias never tried to bite off a piece of that!

There’s plenty of fresh food running around, you just got to get off your ass and go find it! But what did I say earlier? A lazy dog just won’t fucking hunt…and Alias is the laziest dog of all. That hound really screwed the pooch this time, that mangy mutt ain’t done nuthin’ but lay in the corner in a puddle of his own piss since Leap of Faith! No wonder that dog ain’t eating anymore, ain’t getting up to hunt anymore: that dog is damn near dead!

I’ve been running laps around the XWF and eating up everything in sight, but can Alias really say the same? The warpath he was on in 2021…is the warpath I’m on in 2022! I lay waste and I wreak havoc: it's just what I’m known to do at this point. Raion Kido was running around with a perfect record: until I beat him. NKWC was running around with a perfect record: until I beat him. When people compare a match against Charlie Nickles to shooting a free throw they’re right, but they don’t even know it. Charlie Nickles is like a free throw because I’m the ‘and-one’ that happens every time a perfect record gets dunked on!

Charlie pounds the table in joy as he guffaws at his own punchline. The hostess at the other end of the restaurant looks at him curiously but says nothing.

Alias better watch out because I’ve got my back to the basket, and trust me- my fade-away isn’t the same as his! I fade up, up and away over glass ceilings- Alias just fades away from the scene entirely! As it was before it shall be again, or whatever fucking biblical shit he’s spewing nowadays.

Raion Kido better take notes, because this is how you’re supposed to deal with someone that has whooped your ass twice. Kido likes to take the childish route, and then call me predictable?! Every Kido promo can be summarized as follows: He beat X and Y, and his opponent has only beaten Z and Q, and they’ve both beaten W, so clearly Kido is going to win!

Charlie Nickles rolls his eyes at the played-out bit.

Every. Fucking. Time.

And it’s never mattered. Not even once. Who cares about who beat who however many months ago, Raion? X and Z and Y aren’t going to be in that ring with us, it’s just going to be C, R, A, and D, baby- so what do Peter Vaughn and Mark Flynn have to do with any of it?

Shit, what am I supposed to do? Get up here and dismiss all of Raion Kido’s arguments out of hand simply because I just beat Crim’?. You know if you had a cynical mind, you might speculate that I waited this long to address any of Kido’s bullshit intentionally, just so it had time to really sink in and spread all over the airwaves. Kido’s been telling everyone for three weeks that I can’t beat HIM, because I couldn’t beat Mark Flynn and the Crim’.

And now I’m fresh off a singles win over Crim’- the only one in history. If I got up here and just talked about THAT, well, that alone would take all the wind out of Raion’s sails and knock his house of cards right down. Because I mean, if it’s all about WHO beat WHO and WHEN they did it…well…C beat NKW-C one-on-one just a few nights ago…and WHO else has ever done that?

Kido’s own logic would crown me champion on that basis alone.

Charlie shook his head from side to side as he leaned forward in his chair and clasped his hands together.

It’s a shame it doesn’t work like that.

Because in reality, nothing that happens before that bell rings will really matter. All that’s going to matter is what happens during the match. The only matter anyone’s going to see in the match will be the brain matter of my opponents, flung all across the ring!

I’m coming to the Cannabis Cup and I’m laying it all on the line inside that ring, just like I’m known to do in every main event far and wide. So what if the match isn’t *officially* the main event? We all know everyone’s going to tune out after they see the big match, and that’s why it’s still the main event, baby!

I’m Mr. Main Event, and it’s about damn time I got that strap put around my waist to prove it. I’m more than ready to be the universal champion damn it, because I’ve been the acting uni champ for the last four fucking months! Since Alias became ‘that guy’ again, he’s only beaten ME…and Big Preesh. I beat the shit out of ‘unbeaten’ Jason Cashe, and then the very next week I became the only person in HISTORY to beat Crim’ one-on-one, so shit, why the fuck don’t I have a belt to defend against these guys? I’m the fighting champ’ everyone wants a piece of, I’m the fightin’ champ this company deserves, I’m just not the guy with the fucking belt!

It’s insane if you think about it. I orchestrated the fall of Jim Caedus, and then management straight fucked me out of a match with Peter Vaughn. And now I’m sitting here, main eventing show after show, pinning TOP GUY after TOP GUY- and what’s Alias doing? Just beating Charlie Nickles every two months?.....Would Alias say that he’s doing impressive work? Because I know I’m doing some of the most impressive work this federation has EVER SEEN, straight up! I know I’m doing the most impressive work War Crim’ has ever seen. So now it’s time to put that fucking belt where it belongs!

Charlie scoffs at the situation before picking his menu back up and mindlessly looking at it.

I would be a better uni champ than Alias, and that’s not even in dispute by this point. I show up on cable, not only that- I show out! I bite any DiOGee who thinks they’re tough enough to test my bark. I drive ratings, I drive stories, I make the fucking wheels on this bus go round and round! Alias just sleeps in the backseat and gets out for a quick piss break every couple of months.

And shit, what the fuck would Raion Kido even do as champion? Turn the belt into a god-damned comic book prop? Raion Kido isn’t grown enough to handle the responsibilities of being the champion. Raion Kido isn’t mature enough for that role. That Kiddo’s not like me, that Kido doesn’t have any experience carrying the weight of a whole federation on his shoulders. He hasn’t been in the main event since I last put him there, so how could he ever be in a main event without me?! There’s just no precedent for it!

Raion’s whole shtick in the XWF is that he’s the guy who can beat ANYONE- except for Charlie Nickles! So what the fuck would having the uni belt around his waist do for him? I’ve been hunting the uni like a crazed dog ever since January, and if I don’t win it now, I’m not going to fucking stop! I’ll come after Kido like I came after Alias, like I came after Caedus. And then what’s he going to do when we’re booked one-on-one? We all already know the answer to that one.

Charlie looks smugly into the camera before a little smile creeps across his bearded face.

I’m a great white shark baby and I smell the scent of blood in my tank. I’ve been sniffing it since January, and I’ve been hot on the trail ever since. I’m coming to the Cannabis Cup with six months of championship-chasing behind me, with over 300 days as an XWF title-holder under my belt, with a bellyful of rage and a mouth full of venom!

I ain’t never going to stop chasing the uni til’ I win it, and then you can bet your ass that I’m never going to let it go! But I won’t be a whimpering pussy that ducks challenge after challenge, the way Alias-chicken that he is-DUCKED my invitation to show his ass in Columbus. When I’m the uni champ I’ll go wherever the people want me to go, and I’ll lay the smack down on any motherfucker that dares step to me at any place, any time.

THE WAY A TRUE CHAMPION SHOULD! The way that Alias never has, and the way that Raion Kido never will!

Charlie chuckles to himself before a quiet Mexican doll tucked away in the corner catches his eye.

And don’t even get me started on what kind of champion Dolly Waters would be. She’d be just like the last blonde bitch, and barely ever show up to work. That dumb bitch wasn’t even able to make all her scheduled appearances to promote the show, how the fuck would she ever promote the company as it’s champion? Dolly Waters got her panties twisted in a bunch cause I told some tall tales and white lies about her, does anyone really think she could handle the pressure of being the universal champion? Is she the kinda gal that can handle the heat inside those kitchens? I don’t think so. If Dolly ever became the uni champ, then she would REALLY draw my ire…and I don’t think she wants that. I don’t even know what Dolly would do when I started to fuck her pussy with an umbrella. I wonder how loud she’d scream when it opens?

As Charlie looks back towards the menu his eyes are finally able to settle an appetizing order.

Tequila shots! I’ll definitely have to get her some of these when she gets out of the bathroom. Speaking of, she’s been in there a long time…

Charlie sets his menu down as he glances over to the restrooms set back in the far wall of the restaurant. The camera fades out as Charlie looks across the restaurant and waits for his dining partner to come back to the table.


[Image: BOBBREAK2.jpg]

We cut back to a shot of Charlie Nickles, Unknown Soldier, and a small blonde child standing outside a hobo shack next to a river. Charlie has his hand on his chin, like he’s deep in thought. The child and Soldier, meanwhile, look exasperated beyond belief.

So you’re telling me we are in an alternate dimension right now? The dimension of space that opens up in the time gap between Warfare and Savage? And that XWF roster members who rarely show up on television sometimes get trapped here between appearances? What the fuck? Why haven’t I ever been here before?!

Because you’re booked for almost every show, Charlie!

But you’re getting booked a lot too, Soldier! And I don’t know who that little girl is, but I think I’ve seen her around from time to time!

You have seen her around from time-to-time, mostly on Thursday nights, and that’s quite literally why the fuck she’s here!

So why are you here! And why am I here?!

I’m here because I used to live here, you idiot! I had to come get some old shit, and then when my pendant started going crazy I realized someone else who shouldn’t be here anymore was here, too!

Me?

No, you idiot! My War Games Captain!

But what does any of this have to do with me?!?!

Soldier and the girl roll their eyes before burying their faces in their hands.

Why is everyone being so cryptic and weird?!

It’s the curse of the phantom that roams these lands, Charlie!

He used to live here, in between appearances on the shows! He even tried to get his ashy left hand in my pants one time!

But recently, as traces and appearances of him have become more faint, his impression here too has diminished. Now he roams these lands as a phantom, a ghost in the shell of this federation that just won’t, or perhaps CAN’T, leave. But he’s become hungry, eternally, because a starving phantom can never eat.

But he can kill!

I still don’t get what any of this has to do with me.

She must have called you here!

It’s possible.

Who’s she?

Soldier and the child answer at the same time, causing Charlie to look even more confused.

Robyn! She’s the one who sent that mirage into the hospital to save me, and she led us here!

My War Games captain! She called out my name in this great mystical ritual of witches and warlocks, known as ‘The Draft’....and I knew I had to come save her. She must have called out for you as well, but I honestly can’t imagine why. You’re kind of fat and useless.

HEY!

But he’s here somehow…how could that be?! I explicitly started living here so that I wouldn’t have to see him anymore! He shouldn’t be in this plane of existence at all!

I’m not sure, but with the dark power of the pendant we may just find out.

What are you talking abou-

Without answering, Soldier presses the pendant against Charlie’s forehead. The necklace glows red, as Charlie begins convulsing. The Nickleman’s arms begin to shake as green foam starts fizzing out of his mouth and down his chin.

What’s happening?!

The magic is working!

As Charlie stands tall he feels a sudden shock inside his skull, and his vision goes blank. While he still stands beside the blonde child and the true dark magician, his mind and soul are pulled into another dimension entirely: into the memories of the pendant. A cloudy fog overtakes The Nickleman as he sees himself soaring out of the sky towards a nice house in the middle of the desert. He falls through the ceiling, feeling no pain, until his perspective suddenly stills. His gaze is forcibly fixated on a familiar woman in a familiar room. In her arms, a newborn infant coos and caws.

Maria?

The woman dots the child’s nose before placing her inside of a multicolor crib with green, white, and red railings. The child laughs as a single tear drops down from the woman’s eye into the child's crib. Atop the crib sits a mobile, but instead of something cheery, dead rats are swinging around in a circle. Around the woman’s neck sits that same familiar pendant.

Lamento que tu padre no esté aquí para ti, Robyn. Pero no te preocupes, hija: lo maldeciré con mil rencores por su insolencia.

Is that….a baby LSM?

The woman leaves the child to nap in the crib as she walks out of the room and into the hall. Charlie’s perspective follows her, and he sees her walking down the stairs of the family home. The woman Charlie recognizes as Maria walks through the very same living room that he saw dozens of times while he was shacking up with her. But when Maria went to the bookcase, however, Charlie saw something he had never seen before: a secret passageway. Maria pulls a book off the shelf and suddenly the bookcase turns around to reveal a secret stairway. The woman goes down the dark stairwell, and of course Charlie’s perspective follows. Partway down the stairs the woman pauses as she hears a child crying upstairs. She sighs and shakes her head.

Si tan solo su padre no fuera un bastardo, alguien podría estar ahí para ella siempre.

The woman continues descending down the staircase until she gets to the bottom and flicks on the lightswitch. Charlie’s mind is completely rattled when he sees a shrine dedicated to himself, adorned with a few locks of his hair and a Mexican birth certificate. Charlie's perspective zooms past Maria and towards the shrine. As Maria begins a witchy ritual, Charlie’s perspective is locked onto the words on the paper.

Chares Nichols nunca conocerá la paz en su vida, no mientras su hija nunca conozca a su padre. Con este fin, mi Dios oscuro, te ruego. Te doy mi vida, soy tuyo para recordar si esto se hará.

Charlie’s mind and soul slowly floated away from the shrine after he read the names on the paper.

Nombre: Robyn Gonzalez
Madre: Maria Gonzalez
Padre: Charles Nichols (Ciudadano extranjero)

Charlie’s perspective floated away, right past the screaming child all alone in her crib. Charlie tried to reach out for the infant, but he couldn’t move at all, he was being pulled back to another dimension entirely. As Charlie was forced to abandon the scene, he thought back to the choices he made all those decades ago, his choice to abandon Maria.
Could he be the father of Maria’s child?

As Charlie floated into the sky high above the home he broke, he knew in his heart that it was true. The Family Man finally realized, after 20 long years, that he had a child in need of saving.


CHARLIE! CHARLIE! CHARLIE!


Charlie blinked his eyes a few times as he awoke on the ground just outside the hobo shack. He pushed himself up to the ground and dusted the dirt off himself as Soldier held the glowing pendant out in front of him.

What happened?! You collapsed!

What did you see?!

I think I saw my daughter….

She’s here, too?

Charlie turned back towards the Unknown Soldier, his awe-struck face betraying his sudden realization.

She’s the one who’s been here for months….my daughter’s wrestling Alias is the name of your War Games captain.

The little girls nods in understanding.

It makes perfect sense! That’s why we’re all here together in an alternate reality, somehow united under a common banner! I want to bring LSM, Dolly, and Vita into a faction under my management. Unknown Soldier wants to start strategizing with his War Games captain. And you….you want to rescue your daughter!

Well what are we waiting for?!

We should go before the phantom finds us again!

If we all channel our minds together and place our hands on the pendant, perhaps we can find her and save her!

Unknown Soldier holds the red glowing pendant out and everyone quickly places their hands on it as they close their hands. The three unlikely allies concentrate hard on their common linkage: The Nickleman’s daughter. As the three put their minds together and concentrate, a sudden burst of light shoots out of the pendant. As the three open their eyes they see a mirage of a woman with a half-painted face, standing in front of a light green portal to parts unknown.

Let’s go!

Charlie charges through the portal, but before Soldier and the girl can follow it suddenly closes!

Charlie, you broke the spell!

Wait!

It’s too late. Charlie is already gone, chasing after his lost daughter in this zany dimension of reality. As The Nickleman enters the portal he immediately feels his body start to float amidst a sea of darkness. There is nothing to observe: no sights, no sounds, no sensations at all. There is just one Family Man, chasing after the only daughter he has never known.

After what feels like an eternity within the nothingness, Charlie suddenly plops down onto the hard ground.

Who’s there?!

As Charlie looks up he finds himself trapped inside a dark room. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and shakes it from side-to-side to activate the flashlight app. As he does so, LSM immediately closes her eyes and looks away, pulling on her chains to do so.

ROBYN!

Charlie?

LSM squints past the light and pulls on her chains as she lunges forward.

GET ME OUT OF HERE!

That’s the plan!

Charlie sets the phone/flashlight down on the only piece of furniture in the room: a moldy looking bed. Charlie immediately rushes over to his latina daughter and starts messing with her chains.

These are locked! I’ve tried opening them for weeks!

The shackles immediately click open.

WHAT THE? HOW’D YOU DO THAT?!

Charlie looks at his daugther with a big ol’ smile.

When you’ve resisted arrest as many times as I have, you learn a trick or two! Maybe I can teach you sometime…daughter.

Robyn is immediately taken aback. She pauses, frozen for a few seconds, before a huge smile flashes across her face. She grabs Charlie and pulls him in for a big, wholesome hug.

I love you too, but we should probably get out of here and get something to eat! I’m starving!

Get me the fuck out of here!

The hug breaks and the two immediately sprint for the door after Charlie grabs his phone.

It’s probably locked!

Charlie walks up to the door and pushes it open before turning back to Robyn.

It wasn’t locked- you were just chained up. Lazy security, I guess.

I hate Tommy Wish!

Well that will certainly be interesting. Now come on, baby girl- we got a show to make!

Charlie gestures for his daughter to follow him as he leads the way out her personal prison, his cellphone’s flashlight serving as the guiding light for LSM’s salvation. She balls her hands into fists as she follows Charlie out of the room, up the stairs, and into the light of day for the first time in months.

[Image: BOBBREAK2.jpg]


As Charlie sits at the table, still perusing the menu of the restaurant, he is suddenly joined at the table by a painted-up LSM! Charlie flashes a smile as he greets his daughter upon her return.

It’s good to see you again! I swear you took months in there!

Robyn laughs as she picks up the menu and starts looking it over.

Look dad, girls take a long time in the bathroom! I had to do my makeup.

LSM puts her menu down and gives her dad a warm smile as she shows off her painted face.

How’s it look? It’s the first time I’ve ever done it myself.

It looks amazing!

As Charlie is in the middle of lovebombing the young daughter he abandoned, the waitress finally walks up to the table with a notepad and a pen in her hands.

So, have we decided what we want?

Charlie turns to the waitress and places his order as he hands her the menu.

Three little piggies in a blanket, please!

....I guess we can do that?

And four shots of Tequila, please!

Charlie looks over to Robyn, who is quickly looking through the menu to find her order.

Actually- make it five! I think my daughter will probably want one.

The waitress makes some marks on her pad before she turns to LSM.

And for you? Anything to eat, or just the shot of Tequila?

I just want something with a wish-bone, please. It can be from meats unknown, just tell the chef to have a little mercy on me, okay?

LSM politely hands the waitress the menu as she shrugs.

Sure, I guess we can do that, too. Strange orders from you two…

As the waitress walks off with a bit of sass Charlie scowls in her direction.

That’s going to hurt her tip.

Oh come on dad, you need to be nicer to people! Especially Dolly! The things you said to her were foul.

Oh come on Robyn, I didn’t mean any of that shit I said about Dolly. I was just trying to get under her skin- and it worked! While I was busy beating Crim’, something Dolly ain’t done in six years here, she was busy crying her eyes out and going through my old videos, trying to find some sort of contradiction! But there ain’t no contradiction!

CHARLIE AND DOLLY ARE THE BEST!

That’s why I had to make up a bunch of shit about Dolly to make her feel bad and make her take her eyes off the prize. Now she’s completely distracted, and she’s too caught up in her emotions to even focus on the match. What’s funny is Dolly called it out as it was happening: even she observed the fact that I was saying anything I could to throw dirt on her name….and the pretty little bitch still ate it all up!

Charlie cracked a hearty guffaw as he pounded the table in merry joy. Robyn, however, crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at her father.

You really should apologize to her for what you said. She’s my friend too, you know!

Charlie rolls his eyes and sighs before he leans forward in his chair and looks his daughter in the eyes.

Oh come on, caught me some slack. I’ll make it up to her, I’ll do something real special for her sometime after War Games, after it’s all had some time to cool down. We’ll all be back to smoking dope and chugging booze together in no time!

Robyn rolls her eyes and bites her tongue as she briefly looks away. Charlie holds his arms out at his sides, as if to say ‘cut me a break’. Robyn sighs before turning back to her dad with undue gratidude.

I understand…and hey- thanks for saving my life.

Oh, don’t even mention it! You’re my daughter now, Robyn, and that means I’d do anything to keep you safe!

I appreciate it.

I love you, Robyn!

Robyn smiles from ear-to-ear as she blushes. She looks away form the camera as the scene slowly fades to black.

I love you too, dad.

Now let's make sure to eat quick...I'm excited to take you to the Velvet Rabbit for the show! It's every father's dream to bring their child to the strip club!
]]> <![CDATA[Naked Opportunity]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44035 Fri, 08 Jul 2022 20:58:26 -0700 Jason Cashe]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44035 "Where are we going?" Being tugged as his hand was gripped in hers. Jason Cashe was being led by Josslynn Spencer. The two were crept down, moving alongside of a house. It wasn't one they owned. That wasn't the confusing part. Together they had formed a habit of spending the night in places that didn't belong to them. "Hey!" He said in a whisper that was kind of loud for a whisper. Josslynn didn't acknowledge him until they arrived at a fence that divided the side of the house to the backyard.

"Give me a boost.." She nods towards Cashe. Her energy for doing these little excursions of crime was most definitely part of her charm.

"Is the gate even locked?" Looking around, Cashe had used his criminal history to observe the scene since they first arrived. "I don't think they have any security to speak of.." Reaching over the wooden fence, Cashe unlatches the lock and opens the gate. "See? They probably leave the doors unlocked."

"That's because a Cop lives here.." She was so casual about it whereas Cashe's eyes popped wide. "He probably has an arsenal inside.. Come on!" She whispers and disappears into the dark abyss of the backyard. This nightcrawler life had its perks but also its concerns.

========


"I'm aware at this point that winning is less likely for me. Not because I can't hang with someone but because I have an appreciation for the talent pool taking part in this tournament. It would be cocky, arrogant to suggest that I can guarantee a win. That in no way means I won't show up aiming to do so..

This is the Cannabis Cup!

I'm one of the FEW on this lineup that belongs here just in what I have caked up on my lungs from long days of inhale exhale. I smoke on a Professional level! The ONLY time you can call me a Vegetarian!

Yet the day of a match and you'll find me sober like I was a D.A.R.E success story. The match, the business inside that ring is the only high I hunger to have before the bell.

These events are long but there are only a few things better than that first high after going without it for a period of time. So the longer I last in this tournament, the more I will enjoy the puff n greens when I finally get around to putting the flame to flower..

We are all here to showcase who we are while representing the companies we compete for and while I am signed to a couple of promotions, my representation is that of but a few. I can count them on one hand! That to me means I am alone at this event. I keep enemies like I keep lighters and that's plenty so it's always a step forward before I find someone who I want to swing on or who wants to swing on me. So if my numbers are correct? I got 31 other motherfuckers wanting to do what we all signed up hoping to do. Win."

========


"You know there's an indoor pool back at the Hotel right?"

Really, as beautiful as this layout was, Cashe was surprised it didn't have more security. The back of the house was almost all glass, you could see in every room. From the backdoor were little lights that trailed along a walkway that led to the pool area. "So, you don't want to swim with me?" Josslynn asked but she wasn't really asking.

Her eyes pierced towards him as she removed piece after piece of clothing. Down to her skivvies. "It's going to be lonely in there without you.." She adds before diving into the water prison. The term is used because it was a Cop who lived there. Getting in could lead you from one to the other.. Still.. The idea of this gave him an interest. The risk, the reward of what was waiting for him to join her.

Cashe stripped. The night wasn't cold but the chill in the wind did hug you a bit. He damn sure didn't dive in, he slowly descended into the dark water, only lit up by lights underneath the surface. Gave it a nice dim glow. "It's kind of cold.." He chimed in as he and Josslynn waved closer to one another.

"It's not so bad when you go under." She said but her bottom lip had a shiver to it. "Here, let's heat things up a bit shall we?" From the water came her bra and her underwear. Smiling as Cashe, she throws them off to the side of the pool. Cashe rushed to remove his briefs. Tossing them in the general direction where she had thrown hers.

He pulls her close and leans in to kiss her but she shoves back, kicking off of him and swimming in the opposite direction. The top of her butt cheeks break the surface. "Say Marco!" Her voice was not in a whisper but Cashe almost forgot the risk involved as he watched the reward swim away. The game was to be played with his eyes closed so that is exacty what he did.

"Marco!"

"Polo.." In a whisper drifted off his right, Cashe cuts and dives into that direction. The game was on.

========


"Looking at these brackets.. Sheesh! To win my side, to find myself in the Finals. Even the Elite Eight. I would need to beat some which I admire.. Bobby Bourbon, Thunker Knuckles. Betsy Granger! Sebastian Everett Bryce..

Raise your hand if you think I can accomplish this? My hand won't be among those raised. Maybe one or two on a good day but to expect those good days to come back to back? Who can really expect that? What we want is not often what we get, I've learned that so many times over the years.

Did Cinderella expect to be exactly what the Prince was looking for? I'm not expecting it but I'll damn sure make the shoe fit if you don't have a Fairy Godmother to wave a wand and make your dreams come true.

In Football, it is Any Given Sunday. In Pro Wrestling, it is Any Given Opportunity and we all have one in front of us! It is literally a Cup sitting there, ready to be claimed by one. This is Highlander shit and if you cannot come prepared to lose your head then you have come ill prepared. I'm coming to curb stomp like I'm kicking knowledge, you want to out smart me. Bring big words and remember that this isn't a spelling bee and we all want to sting like Ali and show we can be great!

Smoke Session Number Two? Between Cypress Hill and Willie Nelson, I am trying to out smoke the competition. So come one, come all, I'll hit you to the head until you're tired. Call it a contact high because while you're on your back for that Uno, Dose, Trey? My Hand Will Rise and then I'll be riding high and you'll have been put UNDER The Influence while I stand above it."

========


"Shit, my phone!" Cashe torpedoed under the water, kicking his legs as his arms tore through the pool. Josslynn, watching, turns to see a light inside the house turn on.

"Jason.. Someone's awake!" She tried to call out but Cashe was still swimming underwater. At best, he might have heard the vibration of her voice but probably not. She wasn't screaming. "Damnit!" She mutters upon seeing a man stumbling through the house in a bathrobe and some slippers. He didn't seem alarmed by anything, probably just had to pee.

Emerging at the wall of the pool, Cashe pushes himself out of the water, twisting and sitting on the edge. Usually when they went out, they left their phones volume off, if they brought them at all. He struggles to get his phone out from the pocket of his shorts. The name 'Price is Right' appears on the screen as Cashe answers the call.

"Hello?" Cashe whispers into the phone as he sees Josslynn pointing towards the house. The man inside wasn't visible anymore so Cashe just shrugged it off. "I can't talk right now." He says as he holds a finger up to signal for Joss to give him a minute. "I'm not worried about Chris Page or his Sissy PE group. If they come, they know the risks."

Josslynn playfully swims around just out of clear sight of Cashe. Into the part of the pool where the lights didn't help. "If you must know.." There was a moment of hesitation. Cashe couldn't see Josslynn's naked body under the water but he knew it was there. "Josslynn and I broke into a Cop's backyard to swim naked in his pool." The truth as they say will set you free. "What? I'm not lying!"

From his peripheral vision, Cashe snapped his head to see the man moving inside the house. "Shit, I gotta go.." Slowly, Cashe slides back down into the pool. An eyeful if there was better lighting but plenty of shadow to catch a glimpse. "I've got to go man.." Hanging up on the call, Cashe holds down the button and shuts his phone off before tossing it onto his clothes pile. "Should we go?" He whispers as he slow swims back to Josslynn. She extends an arm to prevent him from getting too close.

"Say Marco.." Her smile returned, the risk of getting caught faded as she backed away and splashed water into Cashe's face.

"Heh.. Marco…"

========[/i]


"Chronic Chris Page Enterprises. A banner made up of people willing to hold up another man's name. I guess people have been doing that very thing for years and years. Empires that have risen and fallen. Kings and Governments that have gained power over a population simply because they spoon fed people enough of their own source material that it becomes almost a brainwash.

Now we see how the game is to be played though!

How many people in this tournament will have Page in their corner? What happens when two of his clients face one another? Will he pick a side, stand in a neutral corner or not be present at ringside altogether? How many tickets does one have to apply before the odds sit in your favor for success?

Five in the Cup Tournament alone!

Part of aligning yourself with him is to see your name on the marquee but which of you NEEDS his help with that?

Once upon a time, Chris Page threatened to surround the ring with me in it. To line up all his clients and make an example out of me and up until this point? I've bullied those who he has sent to deal with me..

Odds being in your favor is nice. Stack the deck, bring all you've got because me, by my lonesome will do the same. Just know that if one of you do win? He will be in your spotlight helping you hold up that Trophy..

Last time I spoke about the Cannabis Cup, I had to do that introduction stuff. Who I was, what I've done and why I signed up for this in the first place but this is far from being about me. This is about each and every one of us who are showing up at the Velvet Rabbit to whip and tip ass! Throw the big bills and look for the bigger thrills inside of a ring that will host some HUGE matches!

Corey Black versus Chris Page?

Peter Vaughn versus James Raven?

I think Splat has a Title being defended on this show! XWF is showcasing a World Title Match, the hitters are on deck for what could very well be a Homerun Derby. This event, these nights are about Pro Wrestling and with all the drama that we seem to turn on daily like a reality TV show, when you get inside that squared circle with ropes surrounding you and fans surrounding them, you forget all that extra noise. Everything goes quiet in those moments. So, no, it's not just about me. Who I am is another name on the roster. Another number on the total of competitors vying for the same prize. You want that Trophy? Do you NEED that Trophy?

Watch the winner be someone who can't even blow Os in the air with a lungful exhaled.."

[b]========


"Marco…" Waddling calmly through the water. The pool wasn't very deep, just a smidge deeper than Cashe was tall. Not hearing a response from Josslynn, Cashe signals again. "Marco!" His voice turns up the volume a bit.

"Polo.." Her voice faded. Too far to even be IN the pool. Cashe opened his eyes and couldn't see her. Spinning around to check every angle, he wasn't seeing his girlfriend in the pool.

"Jossly–" He spots her outside the pool as she finalizes getting dressed. "What?" Cashe turns to check the house. Silent. It stood motionless. Facing her again, he moves closer to the edge. "Are we leaving?"

"I am!" She says in her non whispered, maybe a bit too loud voice.

"The fuck you mean?" He felt and sounded confused. Unsure of what he might have done. Pushing himself out of the pool, Josslynn rushes over and shoves him back into the water. Breaching the surface, he growls trying to get to the edge. "What are you doing?!" He asks in a demanding loud voice.

"Payback!" The dread that filled him as she spoke the word was heavy. All this time he had thought she forgave him, forgot all about the glitter bomb that he helped execute on her, Sloane Taylor, and Todrick Ramsey.

"You don't have glitter do you?!"

That was his biggest concern at this time. The rest of the picture hadn't yet been painted in thought but as he pushed out of the pool. The lights in the house came on like a bolt of lightning filled it in an instant. Looking down at himself, Cashe was 'bucket naked' (Bernie Mac RIP). The picture started filling with color. "Josslynn wait!" He says in a last minute plea. "Leave my underwear?"

At the gate, just before she disappears. Josslynn turns, blows him a kiss and says, "I love you, I'll see you back at the Hotel."

"But tha–" He tried to say but she was gone. "That's a few miles from here.." He says it anyway to himself. The backdoor of the house is opened, you can hear the lock click as the man steps outside. Cashe sighs, drops his head and turns to face the man. "Heeeey.. I'm Cashe…" The most sad sounding introduction Jason Cashe has ever made.

"KAAAAREN! BRING ME MY GUN!"

Cashe broke off into a sprint, chasing out of the yard and after Josslynn. Butt naked and running. What a sight..

========


"I've talked about the bracket I am in. I wouldn't do this tournament justice if I didn't mention that other side. The side that will produce a Finalist to face whoever wins on my side. Dane Preston just beat Matthew Knox, a feat to say the least but it's from the same company that produced Wraith so I can't give him too much credit. I'm not a fan. I'm also not here to kid glove anyone because that's not what I do. So forgive me if my value placed upon IWF products isn't much more than Dollar Store prices.

They got Austin Ramsey over there! That's my boy, a brother in a sense. I give so much credit to him on how I have evolved and bettered myself over the last year or so. I like that dude and yet if our paths crossed by chance inside the ring? I'd shorten his years knowing he is the Father of my God Children. That's just the Dog in me.. That's where I am when I am inside those ropes. I can be playful on twitter and have some fun but I don't play when it comes to that 3 Count.

Mac Bane is like Family. He married my Sister, Amber. Same can be said though, I'll dig in his ass like I'm trying to change the way he shits if it means to pass that challenge and get my hand raised!

THAT IS THE DRUG!

THE HIGH!

To have your hand raised and keep it above your head match after match. Until they shut off the lights and we all go home, that is the purpose. The ultimate goal for anyone but in this tournament, in that hand I want a trophy to be raised with it.

I will, in truth, worry about the Dickies, the Montouris, Corey Smiths, and LSMs when and IF I get to the Finals. Again, I don't expect to win. The odds aren't in my favor, I'm nobody's Top 5. I'm not supposed to win but in the end? It's your job to stop me.."

========


"Pick up… Pick up… Come ON!"

Cashe was sitting outside of a Laundromat wearing clothes that were a few sizes too small. He had a phone to his ear and a purse that had its contents dumped out onto the sidewalk. Clearly stolen. Pacing as he seemed a bit fidgety.

"Yeah, it's me, Cashe. Answer the fucking phone man! Josslynn ditched me and left me butt ass naked.. Call me back, I need an uber!"

Hanging up, he looks around. Nobody was lingering as the night grew into the morning hours. "I'm gonna get her.. This is war!" He says with a growl as the phone in his hand begins to ring.]]> "Where are we going?" Being tugged as his hand was gripped in hers. Jason Cashe was being led by Josslynn Spencer. The two were crept down, moving alongside of a house. It wasn't one they owned. That wasn't the confusing part. Together they had formed a habit of spending the night in places that didn't belong to them. "Hey!" He said in a whisper that was kind of loud for a whisper. Josslynn didn't acknowledge him until they arrived at a fence that divided the side of the house to the backyard.

"Give me a boost.." She nods towards Cashe. Her energy for doing these little excursions of crime was most definitely part of her charm.

"Is the gate even locked?" Looking around, Cashe had used his criminal history to observe the scene since they first arrived. "I don't think they have any security to speak of.." Reaching over the wooden fence, Cashe unlatches the lock and opens the gate. "See? They probably leave the doors unlocked."

"That's because a Cop lives here.." She was so casual about it whereas Cashe's eyes popped wide. "He probably has an arsenal inside.. Come on!" She whispers and disappears into the dark abyss of the backyard. This nightcrawler life had its perks but also its concerns.

========


"I'm aware at this point that winning is less likely for me. Not because I can't hang with someone but because I have an appreciation for the talent pool taking part in this tournament. It would be cocky, arrogant to suggest that I can guarantee a win. That in no way means I won't show up aiming to do so..

This is the Cannabis Cup!

I'm one of the FEW on this lineup that belongs here just in what I have caked up on my lungs from long days of inhale exhale. I smoke on a Professional level! The ONLY time you can call me a Vegetarian!

Yet the day of a match and you'll find me sober like I was a D.A.R.E success story. The match, the business inside that ring is the only high I hunger to have before the bell.

These events are long but there are only a few things better than that first high after going without it for a period of time. So the longer I last in this tournament, the more I will enjoy the puff n greens when I finally get around to putting the flame to flower..

We are all here to showcase who we are while representing the companies we compete for and while I am signed to a couple of promotions, my representation is that of but a few. I can count them on one hand! That to me means I am alone at this event. I keep enemies like I keep lighters and that's plenty so it's always a step forward before I find someone who I want to swing on or who wants to swing on me. So if my numbers are correct? I got 31 other motherfuckers wanting to do what we all signed up hoping to do. Win."

========


"You know there's an indoor pool back at the Hotel right?"

Really, as beautiful as this layout was, Cashe was surprised it didn't have more security. The back of the house was almost all glass, you could see in every room. From the backdoor were little lights that trailed along a walkway that led to the pool area. "So, you don't want to swim with me?" Josslynn asked but she wasn't really asking.

Her eyes pierced towards him as she removed piece after piece of clothing. Down to her skivvies. "It's going to be lonely in there without you.." She adds before diving into the water prison. The term is used because it was a Cop who lived there. Getting in could lead you from one to the other.. Still.. The idea of this gave him an interest. The risk, the reward of what was waiting for him to join her.

Cashe stripped. The night wasn't cold but the chill in the wind did hug you a bit. He damn sure didn't dive in, he slowly descended into the dark water, only lit up by lights underneath the surface. Gave it a nice dim glow. "It's kind of cold.." He chimed in as he and Josslynn waved closer to one another.

"It's not so bad when you go under." She said but her bottom lip had a shiver to it. "Here, let's heat things up a bit shall we?" From the water came her bra and her underwear. Smiling as Cashe, she throws them off to the side of the pool. Cashe rushed to remove his briefs. Tossing them in the general direction where she had thrown hers.

He pulls her close and leans in to kiss her but she shoves back, kicking off of him and swimming in the opposite direction. The top of her butt cheeks break the surface. "Say Marco!" Her voice was not in a whisper but Cashe almost forgot the risk involved as he watched the reward swim away. The game was to be played with his eyes closed so that is exacty what he did.

"Marco!"

"Polo.." In a whisper drifted off his right, Cashe cuts and dives into that direction. The game was on.

========


"Looking at these brackets.. Sheesh! To win my side, to find myself in the Finals. Even the Elite Eight. I would need to beat some which I admire.. Bobby Bourbon, Thunker Knuckles. Betsy Granger! Sebastian Everett Bryce..

Raise your hand if you think I can accomplish this? My hand won't be among those raised. Maybe one or two on a good day but to expect those good days to come back to back? Who can really expect that? What we want is not often what we get, I've learned that so many times over the years.

Did Cinderella expect to be exactly what the Prince was looking for? I'm not expecting it but I'll damn sure make the shoe fit if you don't have a Fairy Godmother to wave a wand and make your dreams come true.

In Football, it is Any Given Sunday. In Pro Wrestling, it is Any Given Opportunity and we all have one in front of us! It is literally a Cup sitting there, ready to be claimed by one. This is Highlander shit and if you cannot come prepared to lose your head then you have come ill prepared. I'm coming to curb stomp like I'm kicking knowledge, you want to out smart me. Bring big words and remember that this isn't a spelling bee and we all want to sting like Ali and show we can be great!

Smoke Session Number Two? Between Cypress Hill and Willie Nelson, I am trying to out smoke the competition. So come one, come all, I'll hit you to the head until you're tired. Call it a contact high because while you're on your back for that Uno, Dose, Trey? My Hand Will Rise and then I'll be riding high and you'll have been put UNDER The Influence while I stand above it."

========


"Shit, my phone!" Cashe torpedoed under the water, kicking his legs as his arms tore through the pool. Josslynn, watching, turns to see a light inside the house turn on.

"Jason.. Someone's awake!" She tried to call out but Cashe was still swimming underwater. At best, he might have heard the vibration of her voice but probably not. She wasn't screaming. "Damnit!" She mutters upon seeing a man stumbling through the house in a bathrobe and some slippers. He didn't seem alarmed by anything, probably just had to pee.

Emerging at the wall of the pool, Cashe pushes himself out of the water, twisting and sitting on the edge. Usually when they went out, they left their phones volume off, if they brought them at all. He struggles to get his phone out from the pocket of his shorts. The name 'Price is Right' appears on the screen as Cashe answers the call.

"Hello?" Cashe whispers into the phone as he sees Josslynn pointing towards the house. The man inside wasn't visible anymore so Cashe just shrugged it off. "I can't talk right now." He says as he holds a finger up to signal for Joss to give him a minute. "I'm not worried about Chris Page or his Sissy PE group. If they come, they know the risks."

Josslynn playfully swims around just out of clear sight of Cashe. Into the part of the pool where the lights didn't help. "If you must know.." There was a moment of hesitation. Cashe couldn't see Josslynn's naked body under the water but he knew it was there. "Josslynn and I broke into a Cop's backyard to swim naked in his pool." The truth as they say will set you free. "What? I'm not lying!"

From his peripheral vision, Cashe snapped his head to see the man moving inside the house. "Shit, I gotta go.." Slowly, Cashe slides back down into the pool. An eyeful if there was better lighting but plenty of shadow to catch a glimpse. "I've got to go man.." Hanging up on the call, Cashe holds down the button and shuts his phone off before tossing it onto his clothes pile. "Should we go?" He whispers as he slow swims back to Josslynn. She extends an arm to prevent him from getting too close.

"Say Marco.." Her smile returned, the risk of getting caught faded as she backed away and splashed water into Cashe's face.

"Heh.. Marco…"

========[/i]


"Chronic Chris Page Enterprises. A banner made up of people willing to hold up another man's name. I guess people have been doing that very thing for years and years. Empires that have risen and fallen. Kings and Governments that have gained power over a population simply because they spoon fed people enough of their own source material that it becomes almost a brainwash.

Now we see how the game is to be played though!

How many people in this tournament will have Page in their corner? What happens when two of his clients face one another? Will he pick a side, stand in a neutral corner or not be present at ringside altogether? How many tickets does one have to apply before the odds sit in your favor for success?

Five in the Cup Tournament alone!

Part of aligning yourself with him is to see your name on the marquee but which of you NEEDS his help with that?

Once upon a time, Chris Page threatened to surround the ring with me in it. To line up all his clients and make an example out of me and up until this point? I've bullied those who he has sent to deal with me..

Odds being in your favor is nice. Stack the deck, bring all you've got because me, by my lonesome will do the same. Just know that if one of you do win? He will be in your spotlight helping you hold up that Trophy..

Last time I spoke about the Cannabis Cup, I had to do that introduction stuff. Who I was, what I've done and why I signed up for this in the first place but this is far from being about me. This is about each and every one of us who are showing up at the Velvet Rabbit to whip and tip ass! Throw the big bills and look for the bigger thrills inside of a ring that will host some HUGE matches!

Corey Black versus Chris Page?

Peter Vaughn versus James Raven?

I think Splat has a Title being defended on this show! XWF is showcasing a World Title Match, the hitters are on deck for what could very well be a Homerun Derby. This event, these nights are about Pro Wrestling and with all the drama that we seem to turn on daily like a reality TV show, when you get inside that squared circle with ropes surrounding you and fans surrounding them, you forget all that extra noise. Everything goes quiet in those moments. So, no, it's not just about me. Who I am is another name on the roster. Another number on the total of competitors vying for the same prize. You want that Trophy? Do you NEED that Trophy?

Watch the winner be someone who can't even blow Os in the air with a lungful exhaled.."

[b]========


"Marco…" Waddling calmly through the water. The pool wasn't very deep, just a smidge deeper than Cashe was tall. Not hearing a response from Josslynn, Cashe signals again. "Marco!" His voice turns up the volume a bit.

"Polo.." Her voice faded. Too far to even be IN the pool. Cashe opened his eyes and couldn't see her. Spinning around to check every angle, he wasn't seeing his girlfriend in the pool.

"Jossly–" He spots her outside the pool as she finalizes getting dressed. "What?" Cashe turns to check the house. Silent. It stood motionless. Facing her again, he moves closer to the edge. "Are we leaving?"

"I am!" She says in her non whispered, maybe a bit too loud voice.

"The fuck you mean?" He felt and sounded confused. Unsure of what he might have done. Pushing himself out of the pool, Josslynn rushes over and shoves him back into the water. Breaching the surface, he growls trying to get to the edge. "What are you doing?!" He asks in a demanding loud voice.

"Payback!" The dread that filled him as she spoke the word was heavy. All this time he had thought she forgave him, forgot all about the glitter bomb that he helped execute on her, Sloane Taylor, and Todrick Ramsey.

"You don't have glitter do you?!"

That was his biggest concern at this time. The rest of the picture hadn't yet been painted in thought but as he pushed out of the pool. The lights in the house came on like a bolt of lightning filled it in an instant. Looking down at himself, Cashe was 'bucket naked' (Bernie Mac RIP). The picture started filling with color. "Josslynn wait!" He says in a last minute plea. "Leave my underwear?"

At the gate, just before she disappears. Josslynn turns, blows him a kiss and says, "I love you, I'll see you back at the Hotel."

"But tha–" He tried to say but she was gone. "That's a few miles from here.." He says it anyway to himself. The backdoor of the house is opened, you can hear the lock click as the man steps outside. Cashe sighs, drops his head and turns to face the man. "Heeeey.. I'm Cashe…" The most sad sounding introduction Jason Cashe has ever made.

"KAAAAREN! BRING ME MY GUN!"

Cashe broke off into a sprint, chasing out of the yard and after Josslynn. Butt naked and running. What a sight..

========


"I've talked about the bracket I am in. I wouldn't do this tournament justice if I didn't mention that other side. The side that will produce a Finalist to face whoever wins on my side. Dane Preston just beat Matthew Knox, a feat to say the least but it's from the same company that produced Wraith so I can't give him too much credit. I'm not a fan. I'm also not here to kid glove anyone because that's not what I do. So forgive me if my value placed upon IWF products isn't much more than Dollar Store prices.

They got Austin Ramsey over there! That's my boy, a brother in a sense. I give so much credit to him on how I have evolved and bettered myself over the last year or so. I like that dude and yet if our paths crossed by chance inside the ring? I'd shorten his years knowing he is the Father of my God Children. That's just the Dog in me.. That's where I am when I am inside those ropes. I can be playful on twitter and have some fun but I don't play when it comes to that 3 Count.

Mac Bane is like Family. He married my Sister, Amber. Same can be said though, I'll dig in his ass like I'm trying to change the way he shits if it means to pass that challenge and get my hand raised!

THAT IS THE DRUG!

THE HIGH!

To have your hand raised and keep it above your head match after match. Until they shut off the lights and we all go home, that is the purpose. The ultimate goal for anyone but in this tournament, in that hand I want a trophy to be raised with it.

I will, in truth, worry about the Dickies, the Montouris, Corey Smiths, and LSMs when and IF I get to the Finals. Again, I don't expect to win. The odds aren't in my favor, I'm nobody's Top 5. I'm not supposed to win but in the end? It's your job to stop me.."

========


"Pick up… Pick up… Come ON!"

Cashe was sitting outside of a Laundromat wearing clothes that were a few sizes too small. He had a phone to his ear and a purse that had its contents dumped out onto the sidewalk. Clearly stolen. Pacing as he seemed a bit fidgety.

"Yeah, it's me, Cashe. Answer the fucking phone man! Josslynn ditched me and left me butt ass naked.. Call me back, I need an uber!"

Hanging up, he looks around. Nobody was lingering as the night grew into the morning hours. "I'm gonna get her.. This is war!" He says with a growl as the phone in his hand begins to ring.]]> <![CDATA[One Final Victory Will Seal This Series]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44034 Fri, 08 Jul 2022 20:56:39 -0700 TactilizingOne]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44034 https://docs.google.com/document/d/1edCN...sp=sharing&ouid=116579292832110603675&rtpof=true&sd=true]]> https://docs.google.com/document/d/1edCN...sp=sharing&ouid=116579292832110603675&rtpof=true&sd=true]]> <![CDATA[A Cup By Any Other Name]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44033 Fri, 08 Jul 2022 20:54:04 -0700 Gerry]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44033
I carefully pulled the sheet off me and slipped out of bed, quiet as a mouse as the bedroom was full of her slight snores. I lightly treaded over and pulled a pair of shorts on before creeping out of my room quietly. I entered the living room and plopped down on my couch, turning the wall-mounted television on to Sports Center. I rolled my eyes at more nonsense spewing from Bart Scott’s mouth before I suddenly had the feeling I was forgetting something. I shrugged to myself and tried to put it out of my mind when I saw my phone on the glass coffee table where I left it flashing. I grabbed it and opened the phone. It was a notification from Chris Page reminding everyone the deadline for Cannabis Cup promos was imminent.

“Fuck!” I screamed loud enough that I’m sure I woke Cindy/Cora up from her deep slumber. I leapt from the couch and hurried about my place, getting things together in a rush. I kept muttering 'fuck' under my breath as I scurried about.

A short while later I had put on a suit and set up a camera on the coffee table, making sure it was aimed at me. It’s been a long time since I cut a promo directly on camera to send it in but I had to make do with what I had available to me at the moment. I pressed record on the camera and forced a smirk on my face like anyone on the outside would expect.

“Ladies and gentlemen, It is I, your Hollywood Hero and Living Legend, Gerard Angelo. How are all of you Cannabis Cuppers doing today? I hope you’re enjoying the time you all have left before this tournament kicks off. I hope you’re all yelling into the ether about how you're taking the inaugural Cannabis Cup home. Yell about how nobody in this stands up to your athleticism and skill, how this tournament is in your wheelhouse. Talking about how you're the best wrestler to walk the face of God’s green earth,” I said, keeping the smirk across my lips the whole time.

“And I know you all see me here and you’re going to pretend that you don’t know who I am. Better yet, you’re probably chomping at the bit to make a joke about how I’m “Raven-lite”, something that was old and not clever after the first time it was said to me. But I know with most of you, cleverness and ingenuity aren’t you’re strong suits. It’s mostly beating your chest on Twitter trying to look like you’re better than everyone, how you’re life is so perfect while everything burns in the background. Social Median one-oh-one.”

I chuckled and waved a hand in the air dismissively.

“You all can yell about how you’re the best here, the best there. Here’s a news flash though, I’m the best everywhere. It’s true. How do you ask? I’m not the strongest, I’m not the fastest. Hell, I’m not even taller than James Raven. What I am though, is the smartest. That is how you win things like the Cannabis Cup. You having the most power or the best technical skill is irrelevant if you can’t process the information on the fly and adjust. It doesn’t matter how many flips you can do or how good you are on the stick if you can’t put together a game plan. That’s why I am going to win the entire thing. I’ve been filing away information about every single one of you since this event was announced. I’ve meticulously watched every bit of film I could get my hands on. Anybody who I face I will be able to put together an air-tight strategy.”

I lean back on the couch as I keep eye contact with the camera.

“Can any of you say that? Probably not. It’s the same old nonsense with all of you. ‘Ha, you suck. I smash. I win.’” I roll my eyes as I say this, reaching do to the table to lift my glass of scotch and take a sip.

“Even if you’re not pretending, you will know who I am when this is over. I’m going to be the guy Chris and Candice hand the damn trophy to while the rest of you are scratching heads wondering what the fuck just happened. In fact-”

“Okay, I’m ready to go!”

The smirk falters from my face as the woman from last night walks into my living room, her expensive-looking heels clicking off the marble floor. She had shimmied back into her dress and touched up her make-up but it was still quite obvious what happened last night. We locked eyes and stared at each other for a moment as if she was expecting me to make a spectacle about her leaving. I keep my seat on the couch.

“Okay love, I’ll definitely give you a call next time I’m in town. You know where the door is”, I said as I turned back to the camera. She gave me an incredulous look before turning and walking slowly to the door.

“Oh wait!”, I said, leaping to my feet. She turned with a smile. I rummaged through papers on my coffee table before pulling one out. I walked over to her and handed her the piece of paper. She looked down at it and back up at me.

“What is this?”

“This you need to fill out so my people can send you a gift basket. You know you joined an exclusive club last night!” I gave her a grin. She just raised an eyebrow and tried to read it over. I reached into my jacket and removed a pen, handing it to her. She went over it and filled out the information before signing.

“That’s also an NDA. Thank you. Hope you enjoyed your stay. I know I did.”

She looked at me in shock as I opened the door and gently pushed her out into the hallway before shutting the door and locking it. Hopefully, she can reminisce about our night together while she enjoys the items in the gift basket. I looked down at the paper.

“Oh! Her name was Molly. I was way off.”]]>
I carefully pulled the sheet off me and slipped out of bed, quiet as a mouse as the bedroom was full of her slight snores. I lightly treaded over and pulled a pair of shorts on before creeping out of my room quietly. I entered the living room and plopped down on my couch, turning the wall-mounted television on to Sports Center. I rolled my eyes at more nonsense spewing from Bart Scott’s mouth before I suddenly had the feeling I was forgetting something. I shrugged to myself and tried to put it out of my mind when I saw my phone on the glass coffee table where I left it flashing. I grabbed it and opened the phone. It was a notification from Chris Page reminding everyone the deadline for Cannabis Cup promos was imminent.

“Fuck!” I screamed loud enough that I’m sure I woke Cindy/Cora up from her deep slumber. I leapt from the couch and hurried about my place, getting things together in a rush. I kept muttering 'fuck' under my breath as I scurried about.

A short while later I had put on a suit and set up a camera on the coffee table, making sure it was aimed at me. It’s been a long time since I cut a promo directly on camera to send it in but I had to make do with what I had available to me at the moment. I pressed record on the camera and forced a smirk on my face like anyone on the outside would expect.

“Ladies and gentlemen, It is I, your Hollywood Hero and Living Legend, Gerard Angelo. How are all of you Cannabis Cuppers doing today? I hope you’re enjoying the time you all have left before this tournament kicks off. I hope you’re all yelling into the ether about how you're taking the inaugural Cannabis Cup home. Yell about how nobody in this stands up to your athleticism and skill, how this tournament is in your wheelhouse. Talking about how you're the best wrestler to walk the face of God’s green earth,” I said, keeping the smirk across my lips the whole time.

“And I know you all see me here and you’re going to pretend that you don’t know who I am. Better yet, you’re probably chomping at the bit to make a joke about how I’m “Raven-lite”, something that was old and not clever after the first time it was said to me. But I know with most of you, cleverness and ingenuity aren’t you’re strong suits. It’s mostly beating your chest on Twitter trying to look like you’re better than everyone, how you’re life is so perfect while everything burns in the background. Social Median one-oh-one.”

I chuckled and waved a hand in the air dismissively.

“You all can yell about how you’re the best here, the best there. Here’s a news flash though, I’m the best everywhere. It’s true. How do you ask? I’m not the strongest, I’m not the fastest. Hell, I’m not even taller than James Raven. What I am though, is the smartest. That is how you win things like the Cannabis Cup. You having the most power or the best technical skill is irrelevant if you can’t process the information on the fly and adjust. It doesn’t matter how many flips you can do or how good you are on the stick if you can’t put together a game plan. That’s why I am going to win the entire thing. I’ve been filing away information about every single one of you since this event was announced. I’ve meticulously watched every bit of film I could get my hands on. Anybody who I face I will be able to put together an air-tight strategy.”

I lean back on the couch as I keep eye contact with the camera.

“Can any of you say that? Probably not. It’s the same old nonsense with all of you. ‘Ha, you suck. I smash. I win.’” I roll my eyes as I say this, reaching do to the table to lift my glass of scotch and take a sip.

“Even if you’re not pretending, you will know who I am when this is over. I’m going to be the guy Chris and Candice hand the damn trophy to while the rest of you are scratching heads wondering what the fuck just happened. In fact-”

“Okay, I’m ready to go!”

The smirk falters from my face as the woman from last night walks into my living room, her expensive-looking heels clicking off the marble floor. She had shimmied back into her dress and touched up her make-up but it was still quite obvious what happened last night. We locked eyes and stared at each other for a moment as if she was expecting me to make a spectacle about her leaving. I keep my seat on the couch.

“Okay love, I’ll definitely give you a call next time I’m in town. You know where the door is”, I said as I turned back to the camera. She gave me an incredulous look before turning and walking slowly to the door.

“Oh wait!”, I said, leaping to my feet. She turned with a smile. I rummaged through papers on my coffee table before pulling one out. I walked over to her and handed her the piece of paper. She looked down at it and back up at me.

“What is this?”

“This you need to fill out so my people can send you a gift basket. You know you joined an exclusive club last night!” I gave her a grin. She just raised an eyebrow and tried to read it over. I reached into my jacket and removed a pen, handing it to her. She went over it and filled out the information before signing.

“That’s also an NDA. Thank you. Hope you enjoyed your stay. I know I did.”

She looked at me in shock as I opened the door and gently pushed her out into the hallway before shutting the door and locking it. Hopefully, she can reminisce about our night together while she enjoys the items in the gift basket. I looked down at the paper.

“Oh! Her name was Molly. I was way off.”]]> <![CDATA[Raw and Unfiltered]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44032 Fri, 08 Jul 2022 20:53:30 -0700 Austin Ramsey]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44032 [Image: A797CF5C-62EB-4DF5-8079-677DF1E9E02C_1_201_a.jpg]



Friday, July 8, 2022
7:00 a.m.
The Ramsey House
Manhattan, NY






“Raw and Unfiltered”


Austin Ramsey has a routine every day that he never breaks. No matter when he gets home from his shift as The Warrens manager at the Velvet Rabbit. He wakes up at six in the morning, does yoga, and meditates. He lets the dogs out into the yard to do their business and play. Afterward, he cleans up the yard, and he and the dogs head inside to the master bedroom. He always looks at his sleeping wife and smiles. Some days he does things to wake her up, but other days he lets her sleep. This particular morning, he saw a Twitter post from Jason Cashe that made him excited. He woke Toddy up and showed her the video; she was not pleased with either of them.

She goes back to sleep, and Austin sulks that he got in trouble. He puts his phone down, and his mind drifts in many different directions. He wanted to do well in the upcoming Cannabis Cup, he wanted to win the OPW Immortal Tag Team Championships, and he wanted his twins to be born happy and healthy. Things had been going so well for him lately, which was rare. His marriage was solid and better than ever.

Now it was up to him to capitalize on his good fortunes and make a name for himself in the wrestling business. Sure, he was a great personal trainer and put together great meal plans for his customers, but he hadn’t entirely made a name for himself in the wrestling world. Toddy had made her mark several times in her career, and while he was not the least bit jealous of his wife, he wanted more for himself. This is why he needed to win the Cannabis Cup. He needed to prove to himself and the world that he had what it took to be a winner.

He hopped out of bed, got dressed, and went back downstairs. He needed to go to a place where he and all the 28 other Austins felt at peace. He drove to the pier and stared at the water and the light bouncing off of it, and all was right with the world. He took out his phone and decided to go live to talk to his followers.

Austin Ramsey: “Sup y’all. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately, and I just thought I’d come out here to my place of peace and talk to you for a few. As most of you know, all have been right in my world. My marriage is solid, we are expecting twins, my business ventures are thriving, and next week I get my wish of the tag team with my wife challenging for the OPW Immortal Tag Team Championships. I’m happy with all of that, but something is still nagging at me. I need to prove that I have what it takes in singles competition. Sure, you know that I pull off some fantastic matches, but I need to win where it counts.

That is where the Cannabis Cup comes into play. This is an opportunity that I have to win it all and show the world exactly what I’m made of. For some, this is just another tournament and a way to get their face out there, but this is something entirely different for me. I don’t need to win this for anyone other than myself. I need to win this to show my wife, my kids, and most importantly, myself that I still have what it takes. It’s not about prizes or bragging rights; this is strictly to show me what I’m capable of. I know this is a side of me that you don’t usually see, and I’m okay with that.

I am humbled to be standing on my own in this tournament just as a man on a mission. No crazy gimmicks, no rage directed at anyone causing me to make stupid mistakes; I’m simply Austin. Will I still be entertaining? Fuck yeah, but I don’t need any antics taking away from my pure wrestling skill that will be on full display no matter whom I face when I step between those ropes. I want all of you to finally see me every time I step onto that stage. But who is Austin?

Sure, if you’ve followed me since F2B, you know of my tragic backstory, and that really fucked me up in so many ways, but Austin evolves as you see every week. Sometimes, I do bad things, but as you all have come to know, in my fucked-up head, I don’t believe they are wrong. I think I am acting on behalf of the greater good. I never want to cause intentional harm unless someone has wronged my immediate family. That’s when I come unglued; Toddy is the best thing that ever happened to me, and I never got to keep anything good in my life for a long time growing up. I can’t lose her, my family, or the Cannabis Cup.

No, it isn’t a life-or-death situation, but for part of me, I need this victory. I’m going to give it everything that I got, of that you can be sure. But I’m not just going to do “enough”; I’m going to push myself and my opponents to the limit. You all deserve that; that is what the winner of the Cannabis Cup has to do. There are a lot of skilled and talented wrestlers in this thing, and I need to stand out and the only way to get there is to take them past their limits. I’ve had to study so many matches, but if you don’t put in the hard work before, you can’t expect the desired outcome. It takes hard work and dedication.

Wifey helped me work on reversals and counters for moves in their arsenals, and I’m confident walking into this thing. I’m saying the words that need to be said, but I will back it up with the actions. Talk the talk and walk the walk. To take a page from my wife’s playbook, I want all of your love and support for this; I think you, her Rockstars, really do propel her to new heights, and I want to experience that. I won’t let you down if you support me, and when we go all the way and take the Cannabis Cup, I will return your love. Well, this is a rare glimpse of me without all the bravado, and some of your letters to me have asked for me to let you in. This is the start of that. I’ll see you at the Cannabis Cup. Just believe in me is all I ask.”

Austin stops the live, takes his shoes off, and dips his feet in the water. He feels a lick on his arm and looks down to see Duke and Domino staring at their Daddy. He rubs them and kisses their heads. He turns around to see his wife standing there looking at him lovingly with a picnic basket in her hands. He stands up, walks to her, takes the basket, and embraces her. No words need to be spoken, he takes her hand and leads her to the edge of the pier, and they have a beautiful picnic. All is still well in the world of Austin Ramsey. This is what he needed headed into the Cannabis Cup. With this kind of love and support, he would go all the way.]]> [Image: A797CF5C-62EB-4DF5-8079-677DF1E9E02C_1_201_a.jpg]



Friday, July 8, 2022
7:00 a.m.
The Ramsey House
Manhattan, NY






“Raw and Unfiltered”


Austin Ramsey has a routine every day that he never breaks. No matter when he gets home from his shift as The Warrens manager at the Velvet Rabbit. He wakes up at six in the morning, does yoga, and meditates. He lets the dogs out into the yard to do their business and play. Afterward, he cleans up the yard, and he and the dogs head inside to the master bedroom. He always looks at his sleeping wife and smiles. Some days he does things to wake her up, but other days he lets her sleep. This particular morning, he saw a Twitter post from Jason Cashe that made him excited. He woke Toddy up and showed her the video; she was not pleased with either of them.

She goes back to sleep, and Austin sulks that he got in trouble. He puts his phone down, and his mind drifts in many different directions. He wanted to do well in the upcoming Cannabis Cup, he wanted to win the OPW Immortal Tag Team Championships, and he wanted his twins to be born happy and healthy. Things had been going so well for him lately, which was rare. His marriage was solid and better than ever.

Now it was up to him to capitalize on his good fortunes and make a name for himself in the wrestling business. Sure, he was a great personal trainer and put together great meal plans for his customers, but he hadn’t entirely made a name for himself in the wrestling world. Toddy had made her mark several times in her career, and while he was not the least bit jealous of his wife, he wanted more for himself. This is why he needed to win the Cannabis Cup. He needed to prove to himself and the world that he had what it took to be a winner.

He hopped out of bed, got dressed, and went back downstairs. He needed to go to a place where he and all the 28 other Austins felt at peace. He drove to the pier and stared at the water and the light bouncing off of it, and all was right with the world. He took out his phone and decided to go live to talk to his followers.

Austin Ramsey: “Sup y’all. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately, and I just thought I’d come out here to my place of peace and talk to you for a few. As most of you know, all have been right in my world. My marriage is solid, we are expecting twins, my business ventures are thriving, and next week I get my wish of the tag team with my wife challenging for the OPW Immortal Tag Team Championships. I’m happy with all of that, but something is still nagging at me. I need to prove that I have what it takes in singles competition. Sure, you know that I pull off some fantastic matches, but I need to win where it counts.

That is where the Cannabis Cup comes into play. This is an opportunity that I have to win it all and show the world exactly what I’m made of. For some, this is just another tournament and a way to get their face out there, but this is something entirely different for me. I don’t need to win this for anyone other than myself. I need to win this to show my wife, my kids, and most importantly, myself that I still have what it takes. It’s not about prizes or bragging rights; this is strictly to show me what I’m capable of. I know this is a side of me that you don’t usually see, and I’m okay with that.

I am humbled to be standing on my own in this tournament just as a man on a mission. No crazy gimmicks, no rage directed at anyone causing me to make stupid mistakes; I’m simply Austin. Will I still be entertaining? Fuck yeah, but I don’t need any antics taking away from my pure wrestling skill that will be on full display no matter whom I face when I step between those ropes. I want all of you to finally see me every time I step onto that stage. But who is Austin?

Sure, if you’ve followed me since F2B, you know of my tragic backstory, and that really fucked me up in so many ways, but Austin evolves as you see every week. Sometimes, I do bad things, but as you all have come to know, in my fucked-up head, I don’t believe they are wrong. I think I am acting on behalf of the greater good. I never want to cause intentional harm unless someone has wronged my immediate family. That’s when I come unglued; Toddy is the best thing that ever happened to me, and I never got to keep anything good in my life for a long time growing up. I can’t lose her, my family, or the Cannabis Cup.

No, it isn’t a life-or-death situation, but for part of me, I need this victory. I’m going to give it everything that I got, of that you can be sure. But I’m not just going to do “enough”; I’m going to push myself and my opponents to the limit. You all deserve that; that is what the winner of the Cannabis Cup has to do. There are a lot of skilled and talented wrestlers in this thing, and I need to stand out and the only way to get there is to take them past their limits. I’ve had to study so many matches, but if you don’t put in the hard work before, you can’t expect the desired outcome. It takes hard work and dedication.

Wifey helped me work on reversals and counters for moves in their arsenals, and I’m confident walking into this thing. I’m saying the words that need to be said, but I will back it up with the actions. Talk the talk and walk the walk. To take a page from my wife’s playbook, I want all of your love and support for this; I think you, her Rockstars, really do propel her to new heights, and I want to experience that. I won’t let you down if you support me, and when we go all the way and take the Cannabis Cup, I will return your love. Well, this is a rare glimpse of me without all the bravado, and some of your letters to me have asked for me to let you in. This is the start of that. I’ll see you at the Cannabis Cup. Just believe in me is all I ask.”

Austin stops the live, takes his shoes off, and dips his feet in the water. He feels a lick on his arm and looks down to see Duke and Domino staring at their Daddy. He rubs them and kisses their heads. He turns around to see his wife standing there looking at him lovingly with a picnic basket in her hands. He stands up, walks to her, takes the basket, and embraces her. No words need to be spoken, he takes her hand and leads her to the edge of the pier, and they have a beautiful picnic. All is still well in the world of Austin Ramsey. This is what he needed headed into the Cannabis Cup. With this kind of love and support, he would go all the way.]]> <![CDATA[(H)I(GH)G Live Q and A]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44031 Fri, 08 Jul 2022 20:37:01 -0700 UndeniableAshC]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44031 Is this a dumb idea?

Maybe, but whatever.

Deep breath.

Head tilted, a woman in a black bunny facemask and a Zion Wrestling tee stares down the lens of a recording tablet. She lifts the mask off and sticks out her tongue. It’s none other than Ashlynn Cassidy. She waves as the viewing audience of a few thousand start to flood in and go up in numbers.

“Hiii!” Ashlynn waves, body tilting slightly, she catches herself before falling over.

Ashlynn tries not to flinch as she spots a makeup-less GOAT Serena Riot from behind the camera facepalming. Ashlynn gives her head a shake as a way of refocusing herself.

“ANYWAYS, I thought it’d be different, be fun if I did a little Q&A with the Cannabis Cup coming up. Thank you to everyone who submitted stuff from when I tweeted about it. I collected some and saved them. The brilliant, the GOAT, the best friend Serena Riot has them and she’ll be asking them. That’s gonna be the other voice you hear. Say hey Serena!”

“Hey, internet…” Serena sighs, her hand reaching and fingers fluttering in front of the camera as a hello.

“Now with that out of the way, welcome to…A.C.’s C.C.P.E. C.C. Q and A!” Ash pauses, hoping that all came out right. She readjusts as she sits cross-legged on her mattress and claps excitedly. Serena begins looking through the little deck of flashcards with questions on them. Just as Serena is about to start, Ashlynn pipes up.

“First off, YES, on brand and with the theme, I AM indeed stoned as I do this! Sorry, NOW take it away GOAT!”

Serena shakes her head off camera.

“What can folks that have never seen you wrestle expect from you in-ring? What’s your style?”

“Well, I would never go into a match without the intent to win it. I may not come right out of the gate aggressive, I don’t have a problem with taking my time. Kimberly Pain, with a name like that? I don’t expect to leave the Velvet Rabbit without bruises or anything. She WILL hurt me, but I can take it. My heart has brought me this far and it will get me a W in the end. Outrun, outlast, outsmart, out-heart.” Ash pauses, seemingly to make a mental note.

Write that one down later! New catchphrase!

She continues, “Don’t let this questionable decision of a high IG live fool you if this is your first impression of me. I’m in fun mode now, not in fight mode. Watch me fight, THAT is the impression that’ll stick with you.” Ashlynn glances over toward Serena for the next one.

“You used to work for FIGHT!NYC before it went on a break, and I don’t think you’ve been back until now. Does it mean anything to you that you’re coming back?”

“FIGHT! NYC, NYC in general has a very special place in my heart. I have worked for other companies, I continue working other places. When I went into FIGHT! I didn't expect much but it turned out to be a huge blessing for me. In New York, I blew up, I opened some eyes and made my name. I got to help grow my fanbase, and the fanbase of Zion Wrestling. New York is where I found out that I didn’t have to just stick in one company, in one place. New York showed me that I could go out into the wrestling landscape and not fall flat on my face. Undeniable isn’t just some word to me, it was a goal of mine to prove to the world that I am one of the best wrestlers in the world. I’m not going around seeking validation from fans that I am anymore, I KNOW that I am undeniable. Out of the ring? Behind the curtain? I met some amazing talents and friends that I have today that I wouldn’t have if it wasn't for New York City, like Michelle Riggs, the Ramseys, or Ricky and Jennie. I owe New York City and their fans a lot. So on July 22nd? When I get to see them again, I’m going to give them a great match. They, and Kim are going to get everything I’ve got. I owe that much. I love New York City. I hope they still, or will again, love me back.”

Ashlynn sees Serena’s eyebrows wiggle and a grin on her face. “Will you guest at The Rabbit again?”

“Yes.” Ashlynn answers, with full confidence. “I can’t let all those bunny costumes go to waste can I?” The Undeniable picks up the mask from earlier and plays catch with it a bit. “The things you buy when you’re high, am I right?”

“How did your best friend Serena get so cool?”

The two share a glance and laugh, no flashcard required for that one.

“I don’t know? Serena’s just a riot and mystery all in one. Or maybe it’s all those Oreos she eats? Either way, I adore her, like A LOT and she won me over with how freaking badass she is. She’s the GOAT for a reason.”

Back to the cards.

“I just saw the schedule, it looks like you’re going on first. Any pressure? How are you dealing with it?”

Ashlynn seems to take a second to think about this one. She glances at her tee before looking back up into the camera.
“Now, I don’t know if I mentioned this but I work for Zion Wrestling. Maybe you’ve already heard of it, if not, you will by June 22nd. If you have, it was probably in part due to me. There? I was the FIRST EVER Zion Champion. Like I said, I was able to walk into FIGHT, into New York as Zion Champion and put eyes on me and on Zion Wrestling. It’s in part thanks to me and my talent that Zion has survived and continues to grow. I know what it’s like to serve as the foundation of something. I’m used to lay the first brick. So at the Cannabis Cup? When Kim and I kick off the event, we have to set the tone. I promise all of you, the tone is… GREAT FUCKING WRESTLING AND A GREAT FUCKING TIME. We can’t have a show built around cannabis and have any low points can we? NOPE!”

Ashlynn begins ro sway a bit, the room spinning a little. Serena stamps her foot, startling the blonde back into focusing.

“Quickfire round: Faded Five, you ready?” Serena asks, a serious tone of voice and matching expression behind the camera.

Ashlynn puts on a focused face before nodding slowly.

“Go-to stoner flick?”

“Office Space!” The immediate reaction on her faceimplies that this was untrue, rather the first stoner movie she thought of.

I was not ready.

“Worst place you’ve been stoned?”

“Church, for a bet. I wasn’t caught, SPLAT should call me.” Ashlynn grins proudly.

“Wake and bake or light at night?”

“Yes. Both. Sometimes you need a morning pickup and sometimes you need random late night philosophy talks y’know?”

“You have the munchies; your snack is…?”

“Oreos!”

Serena claps her hands, visibly startling Cassidy. “I KNEW IT! Jack couldn’t have reached my Oreo stash. You DEFINITELY owe me like five boxes.”

Viewers can see Ashlynn pull an innocent face while Serena glares at her.

“Okay, okay. Final question! Is it the C or S that is silent in the word scent?”

Ashlynn thinks for a moment, perplexed. She ultimately ends up unsure and eventually zoning out. Serena walks over and snaps her fingers in front of her friend’s face.

“Thanks everyone for joining me, Ashlynn Cassidy, for A.C.’s C.C.P.E. C.C. Q and A! I’ll see you all at the Rabbit on July 22nd! I’m off to get Oreos. Kimmy, gimme your best! We’re gonna kick off the Cup on a real high note. The Cup event is gonna be a blast and that’s UNDENIABLE!”

With the blow of a kiss, Ashlynn ends the stream. ]]> Is this a dumb idea?

Maybe, but whatever.

Deep breath.

Head tilted, a woman in a black bunny facemask and a Zion Wrestling tee stares down the lens of a recording tablet. She lifts the mask off and sticks out her tongue. It’s none other than Ashlynn Cassidy. She waves as the viewing audience of a few thousand start to flood in and go up in numbers.

“Hiii!” Ashlynn waves, body tilting slightly, she catches herself before falling over.

Ashlynn tries not to flinch as she spots a makeup-less GOAT Serena Riot from behind the camera facepalming. Ashlynn gives her head a shake as a way of refocusing herself.

“ANYWAYS, I thought it’d be different, be fun if I did a little Q&A with the Cannabis Cup coming up. Thank you to everyone who submitted stuff from when I tweeted about it. I collected some and saved them. The brilliant, the GOAT, the best friend Serena Riot has them and she’ll be asking them. That’s gonna be the other voice you hear. Say hey Serena!”

“Hey, internet…” Serena sighs, her hand reaching and fingers fluttering in front of the camera as a hello.

“Now with that out of the way, welcome to…A.C.’s C.C.P.E. C.C. Q and A!” Ash pauses, hoping that all came out right. She readjusts as she sits cross-legged on her mattress and claps excitedly. Serena begins looking through the little deck of flashcards with questions on them. Just as Serena is about to start, Ashlynn pipes up.

“First off, YES, on brand and with the theme, I AM indeed stoned as I do this! Sorry, NOW take it away GOAT!”

Serena shakes her head off camera.

“What can folks that have never seen you wrestle expect from you in-ring? What’s your style?”

“Well, I would never go into a match without the intent to win it. I may not come right out of the gate aggressive, I don’t have a problem with taking my time. Kimberly Pain, with a name like that? I don’t expect to leave the Velvet Rabbit without bruises or anything. She WILL hurt me, but I can take it. My heart has brought me this far and it will get me a W in the end. Outrun, outlast, outsmart, out-heart.” Ash pauses, seemingly to make a mental note.

Write that one down later! New catchphrase!

She continues, “Don’t let this questionable decision of a high IG live fool you if this is your first impression of me. I’m in fun mode now, not in fight mode. Watch me fight, THAT is the impression that’ll stick with you.” Ashlynn glances over toward Serena for the next one.

“You used to work for FIGHT!NYC before it went on a break, and I don’t think you’ve been back until now. Does it mean anything to you that you’re coming back?”

“FIGHT! NYC, NYC in general has a very special place in my heart. I have worked for other companies, I continue working other places. When I went into FIGHT! I didn't expect much but it turned out to be a huge blessing for me. In New York, I blew up, I opened some eyes and made my name. I got to help grow my fanbase, and the fanbase of Zion Wrestling. New York is where I found out that I didn’t have to just stick in one company, in one place. New York showed me that I could go out into the wrestling landscape and not fall flat on my face. Undeniable isn’t just some word to me, it was a goal of mine to prove to the world that I am one of the best wrestlers in the world. I’m not going around seeking validation from fans that I am anymore, I KNOW that I am undeniable. Out of the ring? Behind the curtain? I met some amazing talents and friends that I have today that I wouldn’t have if it wasn't for New York City, like Michelle Riggs, the Ramseys, or Ricky and Jennie. I owe New York City and their fans a lot. So on July 22nd? When I get to see them again, I’m going to give them a great match. They, and Kim are going to get everything I’ve got. I owe that much. I love New York City. I hope they still, or will again, love me back.”

Ashlynn sees Serena’s eyebrows wiggle and a grin on her face. “Will you guest at The Rabbit again?”

“Yes.” Ashlynn answers, with full confidence. “I can’t let all those bunny costumes go to waste can I?” The Undeniable picks up the mask from earlier and plays catch with it a bit. “The things you buy when you’re high, am I right?”

“How did your best friend Serena get so cool?”

The two share a glance and laugh, no flashcard required for that one.

“I don’t know? Serena’s just a riot and mystery all in one. Or maybe it’s all those Oreos she eats? Either way, I adore her, like A LOT and she won me over with how freaking badass she is. She’s the GOAT for a reason.”

Back to the cards.

“I just saw the schedule, it looks like you’re going on first. Any pressure? How are you dealing with it?”

Ashlynn seems to take a second to think about this one. She glances at her tee before looking back up into the camera.
“Now, I don’t know if I mentioned this but I work for Zion Wrestling. Maybe you’ve already heard of it, if not, you will by June 22nd. If you have, it was probably in part due to me. There? I was the FIRST EVER Zion Champion. Like I said, I was able to walk into FIGHT, into New York as Zion Champion and put eyes on me and on Zion Wrestling. It’s in part thanks to me and my talent that Zion has survived and continues to grow. I know what it’s like to serve as the foundation of something. I’m used to lay the first brick. So at the Cannabis Cup? When Kim and I kick off the event, we have to set the tone. I promise all of you, the tone is… GREAT FUCKING WRESTLING AND A GREAT FUCKING TIME. We can’t have a show built around cannabis and have any low points can we? NOPE!”

Ashlynn begins ro sway a bit, the room spinning a little. Serena stamps her foot, startling the blonde back into focusing.

“Quickfire round: Faded Five, you ready?” Serena asks, a serious tone of voice and matching expression behind the camera.

Ashlynn puts on a focused face before nodding slowly.

“Go-to stoner flick?”

“Office Space!” The immediate reaction on her faceimplies that this was untrue, rather the first stoner movie she thought of.

I was not ready.

“Worst place you’ve been stoned?”

“Church, for a bet. I wasn’t caught, SPLAT should call me.” Ashlynn grins proudly.

“Wake and bake or light at night?”

“Yes. Both. Sometimes you need a morning pickup and sometimes you need random late night philosophy talks y’know?”

“You have the munchies; your snack is…?”

“Oreos!”

Serena claps her hands, visibly startling Cassidy. “I KNEW IT! Jack couldn’t have reached my Oreo stash. You DEFINITELY owe me like five boxes.”

Viewers can see Ashlynn pull an innocent face while Serena glares at her.

“Okay, okay. Final question! Is it the C or S that is silent in the word scent?”

Ashlynn thinks for a moment, perplexed. She ultimately ends up unsure and eventually zoning out. Serena walks over and snaps her fingers in front of her friend’s face.

“Thanks everyone for joining me, Ashlynn Cassidy, for A.C.’s C.C.P.E. C.C. Q and A! I’ll see you all at the Rabbit on July 22nd! I’m off to get Oreos. Kimmy, gimme your best! We’re gonna kick off the Cup on a real high note. The Cup event is gonna be a blast and that’s UNDENIABLE!”

With the blow of a kiss, Ashlynn ends the stream. ]]> <![CDATA[Brittani gets real]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44030 Fri, 08 Jul 2022 19:38:17 -0700 BrittaniHelms]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44030 [Image: abfc1acd97a5f6f3df90e824f9705a09.gif]

Ever since I said what was on my mind a couple of weeks ago and with my main promotions season coming to an end, I am itching to get back in the ring after the humiliating loss I took. My mind has been racing and my mind is on the killing mode right now. I am ready to pounce and ready to go out there and put my name on the map. I am sick and tired of playing nice and sick and fucking tired of being walked over.

I will admit something, my opponent and I shot hard on each other, but when I speak my mind, I don’t hold back and then I let my words to the talking in the ring. Winning this cup means a lot more to me. More than anything.

Even if I have to die trying….

Setting: Las Vegas, Nevada
Date: June 19th, 2022

The scene starts with Brittani Helms coming in the back after her match against Drew Rogers. Drew Rogers has once again cheated to win and got the Carter Corporation involved in this. Brittani picks up something and THROWS it at the wall. She is not happy about this because she had the win in the bag before that happened.

Brittani Helms: This is one hundred percent fucking bullshit!

Brittani grabs something and tosses it against the wall. It shatters into pieces with everyone here wondering what that was.

Brittani Helms: Every fucking time that I want to go out there and prove myself, it’s going backwards and not forwards. How am I supposed to go forwards with this fucking bullshit going on STILL?!

Brittani grabs something again and throws it against the wall. Suddenly, someone grabs it from her as she turns around. It happens to be Kieran Quinn, the co-general manager of Five Boroughs Wrestling.

Kieran Quinn: And I don’t think throwing stuff around would solve that, Brittani.

Brittani shakes her head and looks at Kieran.

Brittani Helms: I am sorry. All this bullshit with the Carter Cooperation is getting on my last nerve. How is that I am supposed to go into the Cannabis Cup with my dignity on the line and the company with them ALWAYS trying to fuck me over?!? Can that be answered?

Kieran shakes his head and looks at Brittani.

Kieran Quinn: Look, I know that you’re very upset with everything that has been happening with them lately, but the Cannabis Cup is a totally different thing. I get it, Candice Carter could be the rudest and arrogant person, kind of like Drew Rogers, but at least she is not going off the rim like he goes ALL THE DAMN TIME.

He keeps his eyes on her.

Kieran Quinn: I know you want to erase what happened regarding the Steinbrenner Cup and coming up third. You have a lot on your plate. Throwing stuff is not going to cut it. Hell, when I started wrestling - you can ask Meagan about this. I was thrown into sharks and would always lose.


She eyes him and raises an eyebrow.


Brittani Helms: You mean you were not as good as everyone says you turned out to be?


Kieran Quinn: This was before CKP, and I started wrestling when I was nineteen years old. When I wrestled, I would lose. Hell, I didn’t even have my first win until I turned twenty years old and you know where that win came from?
Brittani shakes her head.

Kieran Quinn: That win came from a tournament I was in before I would ultimately lose in the semifinals. I learned from that mistake, trained harder and busted my ass. That would ultimately land me in America where I trained with Jamey Caresalle and got where I am right now. If it could happen to me, this could happen to you.

Kieran eyes her with a serious look on her face.

Kieran Quinn: I’ve seen what Justin York said about you and I am going to be honest, I did not like ANYTHING he said about the company or about you. Five Boroughs Wrestling, despite us being crazy as Meagan would say, is one of the places that everyone needs to look out for. We are not a company that’s going to be taken lightly. That’s why we are about to go four seasons strong. Now as for him? I surely do not like the fact that he called you those names and everyone knows that it’s none of their damn business what you do behind closed doors. The fans always got to be nosy with what Melanie and I do…

Brittani rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

Brittani Helms: How the hell you keep calm is besides me because if that was me, I would tell them to go fuck themselves.

Kieran chuckles at the statement.

Kieran Quinn: And that’s what you need to tell Justin – to go fuck himself by saying that in the ring. You need to show the world WHY 5BW is the place that has the best fighters out there and you need to show everyone WHY Brittani Helms is the DC Savage. As Jamey would say, you need to smash all the fuckers in the head before you get what you want. It happened to him, it happened to me, and smashing people in the head will happen to you.

Kieran smiles.

Brittani Helms: You are right. I need to do that. Justin York is going to regret everything that’s been said and everyone in this bracket needs to watch their backs. I am not going to let THIS LOSS stop me from what I want to accomplish. It’s time to show the world who exactly….

She eyes him.

Brittani Helms: The fuck I am.

Brittani walks away to cool down into her locker room as Kieran folds his arms. He then grabs a broom and starts cleaning the mess up. Brittani is back in the locker room and sits down, thinking of what Kieran said before in the meantime. Brittani rocks back and forth before closing her eyes.

Scene: Washington, DC
Date: July 8th, 2022

Brittani Helms: Justin York, I am going to address this one time ONLY for you and it seems like you can’t get this through your head. Calling me names and degrading me, isn’t going to get you the fuck far in this tournament. It looks like you still haven’t learned a goddamn thing, but you will see.

Brittani comes out of nowhere as soon as she said that. We see a trash can that’s in front of her. Brittani puts a red can down, before going down in a shoe box that’s next to her. She picks it up before dumping the stuff in. She then drops lighter fuel before picking up can and dropping it. A fire happens with Brittani stepping back.

Brittani Helms: I am sure everyone is wondering why I dropped all of that in? Have you heard of burning the past and going forward from your past? That’s what I exactly did and there is a story behind that. You see, I am not supposed to be here in wrestling and in general. I am supposed to be in jail.

She eyes the fire.

Brittani Helms: That’s right, I didn’t have the best life as everyone in the tournament and in my bracket has. When I look at this bracket, I see a lot of successful names on here from the likes of Thunder Knuckles, Betsy Granger, Crystal Zdunich, Jason Cashe and many other names that I see, and then there is me, Brittani Helms.

She shakes her head.

Brittani Helms: What is the first thing you think about when you think of Brittani Helms? A guest for the Velvet Rabbit, A protester against that dickhead Father Cheney, a runner up in the Unlucky 16 tournament where Mary Ellen Harrison won that and would eventually become the Multiunversial Champion. That’s what you think about Brittani Helms, not the false statements you heard from my opponent by him calling me a “failure and embarrassment to wrestling”. Most of you are probably wondering what championships I’ve held and didn’t think that I held any. Let me put this to rest.

She is the CKP Diamonds Champion.

Brittani Helms: I am a former CKP Diamonds Champion. I won it off Sabrina Baker, who is the current 5BW FIGHT Champion, and yes, this is my only championship that I won in my career. Yeah, I know what people are going to say. I am not good enough to win this and that I shouldn’t be in this. I’ve already got people telling me to leave wrestling, but I don’t plan on leaving because this whole thing… is now personal to me….

She eyes the fire.

Brittani Helms: The reason why this is personal to me is I am sick and fucking tired of being walked over and being told I am not good enough. Everyone in my bracket has either been ranked or won everything they got. I am not going to deny the fact that all of you deserved it from hard work and dedication in the craft, but I want to win this more than ANYTHING!

She eyes the fire.

Brittani Helms: And I know I am going to get flak from certain people in Five Boroughs Wrestling, especially a certain “side”. This is MORE important than winning a championship in the company right now. I need to not only prove to everyone in Five Boroughs Wrestling, but the whole entire world that Brittani Helms is a legitimate name and not some one company woman that’s going to be held back BY ANY MEANS!
She has tears coming down her face.

Brittani Helms: I WILL got as far as I could with the icing on the cake being me winning this whole entire tournament and erasing the Steinbrenner Cup Experience away from me the last time I took part and THEN I will be in the same sentence with the likes of Mary Ellen Harrison and Veronica Rachelle, who just won her first World Championship a couple of days ago. Also, I am sick and tired of pleasing everyone and being a nice person. NO MORE OF this AT ALL!

Brittani eyes the fire.

Brittani Helms: 32 names are in this, but one will be the clear winner of this. I am not going to stop until I get what I want and that’s becoming the first Cannabis Cup winner! Then everyone who thought the little poor girl from the hardest parts of Washington, DC wouldn’t make it this far because she had to become a dancer to survive, would stop talking and finally give me the respect I deserve when they acknowledge me as the winner!

Brittani walks away from the fire. We got to a deep thought that’s going on in Brittani’s head right now.


In Brittani’s head
Justin York will regret everything that he has said. Does he know that calling me a “slut” is one of the worst things he could ever say? My sex life is MY SEX LIFE. I am not going around and mentioning this cake asses fuckdowns he has with his wife. Though, this is out the window. Justin is on the side that nobody wants to be on and that is my shit list where you will get your ass handed to you and left for dead. I also must take Kieran’s advice from a couple of weeks ago. I am not only doing this for Five Boroughs Wrestling – I am doing this for myself to show the world what the DC Savage can do. I have to take away the wrongs and make it a right. The Cannabis cup is the most important cup of my career with people vying to become the first and I REALLY want to be the first winner. I will go out there and give it my all and if I lose……..

Well, we will get to that when the time comes….

]]> [Image: abfc1acd97a5f6f3df90e824f9705a09.gif]

Ever since I said what was on my mind a couple of weeks ago and with my main promotions season coming to an end, I am itching to get back in the ring after the humiliating loss I took. My mind has been racing and my mind is on the killing mode right now. I am ready to pounce and ready to go out there and put my name on the map. I am sick and tired of playing nice and sick and fucking tired of being walked over.

I will admit something, my opponent and I shot hard on each other, but when I speak my mind, I don’t hold back and then I let my words to the talking in the ring. Winning this cup means a lot more to me. More than anything.

Even if I have to die trying….

Setting: Las Vegas, Nevada
Date: June 19th, 2022

The scene starts with Brittani Helms coming in the back after her match against Drew Rogers. Drew Rogers has once again cheated to win and got the Carter Corporation involved in this. Brittani picks up something and THROWS it at the wall. She is not happy about this because she had the win in the bag before that happened.

Brittani Helms: This is one hundred percent fucking bullshit!

Brittani grabs something and tosses it against the wall. It shatters into pieces with everyone here wondering what that was.

Brittani Helms: Every fucking time that I want to go out there and prove myself, it’s going backwards and not forwards. How am I supposed to go forwards with this fucking bullshit going on STILL?!

Brittani grabs something again and throws it against the wall. Suddenly, someone grabs it from her as she turns around. It happens to be Kieran Quinn, the co-general manager of Five Boroughs Wrestling.

Kieran Quinn: And I don’t think throwing stuff around would solve that, Brittani.

Brittani shakes her head and looks at Kieran.

Brittani Helms: I am sorry. All this bullshit with the Carter Cooperation is getting on my last nerve. How is that I am supposed to go into the Cannabis Cup with my dignity on the line and the company with them ALWAYS trying to fuck me over?!? Can that be answered?

Kieran shakes his head and looks at Brittani.

Kieran Quinn: Look, I know that you’re very upset with everything that has been happening with them lately, but the Cannabis Cup is a totally different thing. I get it, Candice Carter could be the rudest and arrogant person, kind of like Drew Rogers, but at least she is not going off the rim like he goes ALL THE DAMN TIME.

He keeps his eyes on her.

Kieran Quinn: I know you want to erase what happened regarding the Steinbrenner Cup and coming up third. You have a lot on your plate. Throwing stuff is not going to cut it. Hell, when I started wrestling - you can ask Meagan about this. I was thrown into sharks and would always lose.


She eyes him and raises an eyebrow.


Brittani Helms: You mean you were not as good as everyone says you turned out to be?


Kieran Quinn: This was before CKP, and I started wrestling when I was nineteen years old. When I wrestled, I would lose. Hell, I didn’t even have my first win until I turned twenty years old and you know where that win came from?
Brittani shakes her head.

Kieran Quinn: That win came from a tournament I was in before I would ultimately lose in the semifinals. I learned from that mistake, trained harder and busted my ass. That would ultimately land me in America where I trained with Jamey Caresalle and got where I am right now. If it could happen to me, this could happen to you.

Kieran eyes her with a serious look on her face.

Kieran Quinn: I’ve seen what Justin York said about you and I am going to be honest, I did not like ANYTHING he said about the company or about you. Five Boroughs Wrestling, despite us being crazy as Meagan would say, is one of the places that everyone needs to look out for. We are not a company that’s going to be taken lightly. That’s why we are about to go four seasons strong. Now as for him? I surely do not like the fact that he called you those names and everyone knows that it’s none of their damn business what you do behind closed doors. The fans always got to be nosy with what Melanie and I do…

Brittani rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

Brittani Helms: How the hell you keep calm is besides me because if that was me, I would tell them to go fuck themselves.

Kieran chuckles at the statement.

Kieran Quinn: And that’s what you need to tell Justin – to go fuck himself by saying that in the ring. You need to show the world WHY 5BW is the place that has the best fighters out there and you need to show everyone WHY Brittani Helms is the DC Savage. As Jamey would say, you need to smash all the fuckers in the head before you get what you want. It happened to him, it happened to me, and smashing people in the head will happen to you.

Kieran smiles.

Brittani Helms: You are right. I need to do that. Justin York is going to regret everything that’s been said and everyone in this bracket needs to watch their backs. I am not going to let THIS LOSS stop me from what I want to accomplish. It’s time to show the world who exactly….

She eyes him.

Brittani Helms: The fuck I am.

Brittani walks away to cool down into her locker room as Kieran folds his arms. He then grabs a broom and starts cleaning the mess up. Brittani is back in the locker room and sits down, thinking of what Kieran said before in the meantime. Brittani rocks back and forth before closing her eyes.

Scene: Washington, DC
Date: July 8th, 2022

Brittani Helms: Justin York, I am going to address this one time ONLY for you and it seems like you can’t get this through your head. Calling me names and degrading me, isn’t going to get you the fuck far in this tournament. It looks like you still haven’t learned a goddamn thing, but you will see.

Brittani comes out of nowhere as soon as she said that. We see a trash can that’s in front of her. Brittani puts a red can down, before going down in a shoe box that’s next to her. She picks it up before dumping the stuff in. She then drops lighter fuel before picking up can and dropping it. A fire happens with Brittani stepping back.

Brittani Helms: I am sure everyone is wondering why I dropped all of that in? Have you heard of burning the past and going forward from your past? That’s what I exactly did and there is a story behind that. You see, I am not supposed to be here in wrestling and in general. I am supposed to be in jail.

She eyes the fire.

Brittani Helms: That’s right, I didn’t have the best life as everyone in the tournament and in my bracket has. When I look at this bracket, I see a lot of successful names on here from the likes of Thunder Knuckles, Betsy Granger, Crystal Zdunich, Jason Cashe and many other names that I see, and then there is me, Brittani Helms.

She shakes her head.

Brittani Helms: What is the first thing you think about when you think of Brittani Helms? A guest for the Velvet Rabbit, A protester against that dickhead Father Cheney, a runner up in the Unlucky 16 tournament where Mary Ellen Harrison won that and would eventually become the Multiunversial Champion. That’s what you think about Brittani Helms, not the false statements you heard from my opponent by him calling me a “failure and embarrassment to wrestling”. Most of you are probably wondering what championships I’ve held and didn’t think that I held any. Let me put this to rest.

She is the CKP Diamonds Champion.

Brittani Helms: I am a former CKP Diamonds Champion. I won it off Sabrina Baker, who is the current 5BW FIGHT Champion, and yes, this is my only championship that I won in my career. Yeah, I know what people are going to say. I am not good enough to win this and that I shouldn’t be in this. I’ve already got people telling me to leave wrestling, but I don’t plan on leaving because this whole thing… is now personal to me….

She eyes the fire.

Brittani Helms: The reason why this is personal to me is I am sick and fucking tired of being walked over and being told I am not good enough. Everyone in my bracket has either been ranked or won everything they got. I am not going to deny the fact that all of you deserved it from hard work and dedication in the craft, but I want to win this more than ANYTHING!

She eyes the fire.

Brittani Helms: And I know I am going to get flak from certain people in Five Boroughs Wrestling, especially a certain “side”. This is MORE important than winning a championship in the company right now. I need to not only prove to everyone in Five Boroughs Wrestling, but the whole entire world that Brittani Helms is a legitimate name and not some one company woman that’s going to be held back BY ANY MEANS!
She has tears coming down her face.

Brittani Helms: I WILL got as far as I could with the icing on the cake being me winning this whole entire tournament and erasing the Steinbrenner Cup Experience away from me the last time I took part and THEN I will be in the same sentence with the likes of Mary Ellen Harrison and Veronica Rachelle, who just won her first World Championship a couple of days ago. Also, I am sick and tired of pleasing everyone and being a nice person. NO MORE OF this AT ALL!

Brittani eyes the fire.

Brittani Helms: 32 names are in this, but one will be the clear winner of this. I am not going to stop until I get what I want and that’s becoming the first Cannabis Cup winner! Then everyone who thought the little poor girl from the hardest parts of Washington, DC wouldn’t make it this far because she had to become a dancer to survive, would stop talking and finally give me the respect I deserve when they acknowledge me as the winner!

Brittani walks away from the fire. We got to a deep thought that’s going on in Brittani’s head right now.


In Brittani’s head
Justin York will regret everything that he has said. Does he know that calling me a “slut” is one of the worst things he could ever say? My sex life is MY SEX LIFE. I am not going around and mentioning this cake asses fuckdowns he has with his wife. Though, this is out the window. Justin is on the side that nobody wants to be on and that is my shit list where you will get your ass handed to you and left for dead. I also must take Kieran’s advice from a couple of weeks ago. I am not only doing this for Five Boroughs Wrestling – I am doing this for myself to show the world what the DC Savage can do. I have to take away the wrongs and make it a right. The Cannabis cup is the most important cup of my career with people vying to become the first and I REALLY want to be the first winner. I will go out there and give it my all and if I lose……..

Well, we will get to that when the time comes….

]]> <![CDATA[Golden Arrow]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44029 Fri, 08 Jul 2022 19:21:59 -0700 Raion Kido]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44029 It looked as if the Lion had struck a nerve.

Of course, with that came ALIAS’ very heated response, and while Raion Kido knew no fear, he knew that this was the ultimate test.

Outside of the ring, things were no easier, as his path had now intertwined with the one of Ryleigh Dixon. She had called to him in a moment of distress, and he had come. There they both were, in her house in Las Vegas, and she had just woken up after a troubled night. The Lion was content to watch over her rest, but that meant he had to deal with his own burdens.

And here he was, right before the Cannabis Cup, going for nothing less than a miracle - with the wrath of every other opponent trained down on him. But now was not the time to worry about that - Ryleigh was waking, and it was her well-being that mattered most.

“...mm…”

A soft breath was released and her eyes began to open. Bright blue with a little green in the light. Her awareness was slowly returning, finding herself in strong arms she’s become familiar with. A glance at the clock and she realized how much time has elapsed. With careful movement, she turns herself around and looks into her protector’s eyes.

“Raion…?”

“Good morning, Ryleigh. Sleep well?”

When she smiles, her freckles seem to dance along her face. There’s a light red color upon her cheeks.

“Ah… yes. Though I didn’t mean to fall back asleep like this. I’m sorry”

Her left hand moves to gently comb through his lion’s mane of hair and she purses her lips.

“How long have I kept you waiting like this?”

Doing his best effort to smile, the Lion shakes his head.

“You haven’t kept me waiting at all, but I’ve been here for an hour. I couldn’t have slept anyway - I got my battles to fight.”

Although he had earned his place in the match, there was a thought drilling inside his brain, the thought that everyone he was facing had thrown at him. What if he was there because they didn’t think he could take on the XWF Universal Champion alone? What if he was just another worthy sacrifice?

“But don’t let me trouble you, lady. There are enough burdens here for one person alone.”

He places a slow, delicate kiss on her cheek, and slowly lets her go.

“What is your day looking like?”

He’s sweet. She’s smiling a little more. Just laying there on the bed, side by side, is comforting. She checks the flower calendar on the wall behind him before her eyes meet his.

“Completely free. I don’t work until tomorrow afternoon. For that, I’ll be traveling to Los Angeles in the morning. Until then…? Let’s do whatever you want.”

The entire time, her hand is softly caressing his hair. Raion can’t help but blush, but his smile widens.
“Then I got an idea. There’s a place I want to see before I get back to New York. It’s one of Las Vegas’ landmarks and it’s got an observation deck where we could go.”

He points at the sky, and the sun filtering through the window of her house.

“It’s a good place to see the stars, too. How about we go to the STRAT Hotel’s Skypod tonight?”

It was a good plan as any to take his mind off the Cannabis Cup and the focus on every other competitor bearing down on him. More importantly, it was a fine place to take Ryleigh - a woman like her deserved the best, and if Raion could make her feel that way, he would.

“This is going to sound a little strange, but… I’ve actually never been there.”

A cute snort is followed by a laugh.

“A top model who has never visited the STRAT Hotel. Can you believe that?”

Her freckles stretch along with her smile. A close observer could find patterns among them. She finally sits up and swishes her dark brown hair with a turn of her head, the locks resting over her left shoulder. Her pajamas fit for the summer solstice give her a softer appearance.

“I believe the observation deck opens in half an hour. Are you hungry?”

A soft rumbling sound might betray that question - and it was not good to think on an empty stomach, either. Raion stands up from the bed and offers her his hand.

“After how my life has been these past weeks, there is nothing I could not believe, Ryleigh. And well… I certainly feel like I’m starving!”

A mutual smile from the two should settle the deal, and she relocates to her master bedroom to change. As he watches her go, the Lion’s thoughts drift back at the task at hand, but the thought of this woman gives him a galvanizing resolve.

He was no sacrificial Lion. He was a warrior of hope. He was a Saint of Athena, and his charge was to bring light to the darkness of the world.

Even if he had only one shot, his duty was to take it - and give his life, if need be.

And if he could, that’s what he would do.

Take the shot that pierced the heavens - and the universe itself.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The STRAT Hotel’s Skypod and Observation Deck was almost deserted at that time of the morning, which suited the Lion well. There was Ryleigh, there was the staff, and there were few other guests far apart, and that was just the way he liked it. From a comfortable couch looking at the Las Vegas skyline, he was finally treating her to something she could enjoy - and his own stomach to a much-needed meal. The latte macchiato and the cheesecake slice seemed to have brought new life to him - and with it, a renewed hope.

“It’s not the Velvet Rabbit yet, but I hope in a few days’ time, we’ll have just as great a time!”

The Lion gazed at Ryleigh’s face - and her freckles - almost as if entranced. It was good to have her by his side.

And he hoped that, if she was there to see him, she would see him as the new XWF Universal Champion.

“You know we will.”

She offers him a confident smile.

“Wherever I go, a party is sure to follow!”

A soft laugh escapes her. Ah, a trademark within the Dixon family. They were self-confident, perhaps borderline cocky, and trendsetters. At least when it came to her and her oldest brother, Nathaniel. But as soon as the thought of her brother appears, she quickly makes it disappear as she enjoys her iced mocha coffee. She had already finished her jalapeño and cheddar toasted bagel. Not an ounce of the sour cream n’ onion cream cheese remained. They’re relaxing within Eats 108 of the observation deck and simply enjoying each other’s company.

“Don’t worry. You’re the real star. You’re the next XWF Universal Champion. I’ll be in the front row, cheering you on every second of the way.”

Raion drew a sigh and gave her his best smile. The thought of that was reassuring, but the thought of actually winning, and her reaction to that… maybe that was the best thing of all.

“That is about all I can ask from you, Ryleigh - and for that, I am most grateful!”

He takes her hand and gives it a kiss, and once they’re both finished their meals, he leads her by the hand into the outside of the observation deck. A white railing serves as the edge to keep people inside, and several coin-operated binoculars dot the area.

But the Lion isn’t there to just watch the sky. There was also a message to send, and with it went his entire soul.

After all, this was his shot.

“Come with me! There’s something I want to do!”

He places his Golden Cloth Box on the ground, and, after putting on the Gold Cloth of Leo, he takes something else.

A golden bow, with a golden arrow, which he gives to Ryleigh. Her eyes widen slightly, a bit taken aback by what he’s presented to her. Initially, she laughs just a little.

“How did you get this in here…?”

Some time, somewhere, he must’ve received special permission. Sneaky, sneaky lion. The Crown Jewel of the Dixons smiles and lightly pulls on the bow to test the integrity of the string. After a moment, she draws it back with the arrow’s tips pressed against the string. A regal, elegant pose encompasses her.

“I… took archery classes for quite some time.”

“Remind me never to cross you!”

His breath taken away by Ryleigh’s pose, he joins behind her so that both are drawing back the string, and holding the bow steady - the tip of the golden arrow glinting in the sunlight and aimed right at its source.

“Ready?”

“Yes. Are you sure this is safe, Raion-kun?”

Her smile only widens at the prospect of firing the arrow with this bow. The sunlight in the outdoors offers kisses upon her freckled face. ]For his part, the Lion gives her a mischievous wink.

“For us and for anyone here, yes. For them? I would not be so certain. Let fly!”

Nodding at each other, both release the string, and in a lightning-fast, snapping motion, the golden arrow is propelled forward, and ever upward, until it disappears in the sky, engulfed in the light of the sun…


“That, my dear Ryleigh, was my shot. And as it takes its course… I’m happy that you are here by my side.”

As he looks at the sky, he feels the weight on his shoulders lifted by the presence of the woman at his side. She looks up -- not to the sky but to him. A warmth caresses her cheeks and she takes a moment to admire him. His strength, his valor… His bright eyes and his wild hair. Time is lost between the two.

“...I’m with you for as long as you want me to be, love.”

In Britain, it’s an endearing term. A simple title. She was born in San Diego, but the English lineage runs in her blood. With a sweet smile, she leans up and kisses his cheek. Blushing once more, the Lion closes his eyes for what seems like an eternity, before opening them up to look at her.

“And I for you, Ryleigh.”

The golden arrow that they both had shot would meet its mark.

And at the Cannabis Cup, the Lion would meet his own.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“As this finally comes to an end, and the Cannabis Cup approaches, I hear the same exact thing from my foes, over and over again. The only reason I am here is because there is nobody else. The only reason I am here is because I cannot take on ALIAS alone. It’s been an endless cycle of the same people telling me that I can’t do this, right after the very reason for why I am in this match happened in the very first place.

And now, when we’re at the final stretch, when the last words have come to appear, Charlie Nickles is silent, and Dolly Waters can only be bothered to show up at the very last minute.

But as tragic as that is, neither of the two compare to our esteemed XWF Universal Champion. Because all he has done from the moment I spoke last, is to flail in impotence at the onslaught that awaits him. He’s shown his rear and his middle fingers, and thrown a tantrum worthy of Charlie Nickles’ best rant on the XWF social media.

And as I look at all of you bearing down on me, I have but one single goal in mind. I’m taking the shot I was given, the shot of a very lifetime.

The shot that will pierce the heavens and make the universe burst.”

So the Lion begins in the open air of the outdoors Observation Deck, the ornate metal of his Golden Cloth reflecting the glory of the sun in the sky, and his white cape flapping dramatically behind him. The Lion clenches a fist, his eyes now glinting with the shine of the warrior that sallies out once the gates have opened.

Because this, more than ever before, was the time to fight. The battle for the universe itself.

More than ever before, it was the time to make the cosmos burn.


“I want to make something clear, Dolly. I never asked for any of this. I never asked for Theo Pryce’s attention, or for that of Ned Kaye and Jason Cashe. Same way I never asked for Thaddeus’ attention when we faced either. I was content to be where I was, and all this time, I’ve fought alone.

Is it my fault I earned all of this? It’s not like we’ve ever had the opportunity to see me cash the briefcase after I’ve just won it, and no, I’m not the type to walk in on someone else’s match without invitation. Leave that to Sarah Lacklan, and I’m sure you’d do that if you were given the chance, but some of us actually like to earn our accomplishments.

That’s why I am where I’m booked. And that’s why I’m booked against the three of you.

I mean, it’s embarrassing enough that what you call ‘the greatest wrestler of our generation’ has to bring the “can’t beat me one on one point”, since it makes him look like the rage pig he acted like last time we saw him, but from you? It’s just that same thing at which you hiss at your manager, then turn back and have the gall to say it to my face.

And then you dare criticize him for telling you to back down.”

Raion peels back his teeth and shows his canines. This was hypocrisy, plain and simple, and he would not stand for it.

Little did it matter that Dolly Waters had to echo the words of ALIAS. If he had been booked in this match, it was for his value alone - only by his value, and his value alone, would the Lion be judged.

And by his value, the rest of them would fall.

“Which, by the way, the way that this is going, maybe you should actually listen. After all, you’ve just used losing against the Ringmaster to say that me beating you wouldn’t be as bad! I mean, at least two other people in this match have beaten him, and you mean to use losing to him against me? Do you even listen to yourself, or do you just like to hear your Southern drawl that much?

In fact, I quite distinctly remember saying that I would deal the three of you, and the XWF as a whole, the biggest blow it ever got, and that was by winning the Universal Title without cashing in the briefcase. You know, the biggest win anyone could ever get? The thing that seems almost impossible? Were you eating mothballs when I said that, or are you trying to make this about yourself?

But that’s not even the worst part of it all, no. The worst part of it all is that you dare paint me as mocking your child abuse. I didn’t know making a tripping reference equated that somehow, but let’s not get that in the way of the ‘poor me’ story. Fast forward to now, and tripping over your own feet is all you’ve been doing, and there you have no one to blame but yourself. And believe me, I don’t wish that for anyone - not even for Nickles or even for worse than him, and not for you.”

This time, the Lion slashes the air with both hands, the very motion of his arms cutting the air around with a quick sound. He did mean his words. No one, not even his worst enemy, deserved a constant streak of misfortune.

But he was no stranger to misfortune of his own, was he? Twice he had been dashed by Charlie Nickles, and every time he used it as fuel to come back stronger.

He had performed the ultimate comeback, and Charlie Nickles was there again.

This time it would end the way it was supposed to end.

And there would be no Dolly Waters-like lamenting.

“It’s ridiculousness of the highest order, but it’s not funny, especially for you. I did mention you held every title the XWF had to offer, and I’m even willing to give you enough credit to say whether you deserve to be here is irrelevant. You are here and I’m supposed to face you, and Nickles, and ALIAS, like the biggest match I’ve ever faced in my career, because it is. It’s not my fault you come into it in the worst position of all, but I’m not the one slashing my wrists and bleeding out to the world.

Point your finger at me and say how I don’t mean what I say, Dolly, at least I’m not the one lying to the audience. At least I’m not throwing a pity party out of going from pitfall after pitfall. Not that I would know much about that, given that through which I have been, but for the sake of argument, I’ve lost three times. One of them was inconsequential, and I wasn’t even pinned, but the other two were big. I’ve suffered a title match loss, and what did I do? I went back to work.

I suffered a loss at a tournament finals, and what did I do? I went back to work! I didn’t contemplate pulling out of a match where I had been booked, especially not one for a title, because while you claim to stay true to the dream, I actually go out there and fight to make it come true! And now the one win I got overshadows those two by leaps and bounds! Every single word that comes out of my lips is meant from the bottom of my heart, and at the end of the day, I go out and prove that resilience and hard work pay. You’re letting your failures define you, I’m turning them into motivation for tomorrow.

So yes, you too bring the times I’ve lost to Nickles, it’s all the three of you have done, because it’s the only thing you have, and after Leap of Faith, that well has run dry. Even now that he’s meant to be here he’s gone and ran away, and you’ve done the exact same thing. You’ve gone from chasing the footsteps of Thaddeus Duke to chasing the tail of the Nickleman after he’s chosen to hide. You don’t get to discredit me after that.

You don’t get to teach me what this battlefield is.”

As the Lion makes silence, there is no smile upon his face - nothing written on it but grim determination. This event was right before the finals of the Cannabis Cup, and it deserved to be treated accordingly. For all his faults ALIAS had, and the Lion had too.

Dolly Waters and Charlie Nickles had not, but here she was attempting to lecture him.

But it was time for him to give a lecture of his own.

“Both you and Chucky Murder have chosen to run, I’ve been the one to hit the first blow and only ALIAS has risen, and this is for the biggest title. The one that Charlie gave up Goldi to chase. The one you’ve never won. And the one that ALIAS claims as his universe. This battlefield has been mine from the beginning and at the very least I expect you to fight with the same dedication as I have, and more. You know why? You should, Ms. Southern Gal, you, and ALIAS, have said it yourselves: Because I still have the briefcase. And I could have all this to myself.

But what you see as an advantage, I see as a requirement, for I entered this match not just for the simple title.

I entered to pit myself against the very best the XWF has to offer.

I entered to give Charlie Nickles the reckoning he’s had for a long time.

And I entered to get the biggest win in my career, right from the very one I had last Pay-Per-View!”

“That is a battlefield for which I’ve come prepared, a battlefield that I mean to make my own, and the battlefield where the shot is fired that pierces the very Heavens and breaks the universe.

The battle starts on July 24th, and all floors of the Velvet Rabbit shall see the golden arrow go through all of your hearts.

And you, my dear Dolly, shall be the first to fall.”

The young wrestler from Osaka points towards the ground, to the void below the STRAT Hotel Observation Deck.

His warning has been given, and Dolly’s fate was now her own.

Now, however, it was time to take on the name in this match that gave him the greatest motivation.

“Unless, of course, Charlie Nickles decides he’s too busy playing Yugi-Oh to show up at the Rabbit, eh?

This should not have gone unnoticed. You knew I was coming for you, Charlie. You might have looked down on me once more, but you wanted to make the point of beating ALIAS. What is left of that now, Chucky Murder?

Seriously, out of all of us here, Dolly was the one with the worst track record, but you were the one with the least right to be here, and now you’ve turned into the biggest disappointment.

You’ve filled your mouth for months about how you were the Kido killer, how I walked away a lesser man, and now that the Lion has come once more, your entire course of action is to burrow in the ground like the worm you are.

And I do remember saying, the first time, that a worm may never beat a Lion.”

As the canines show again, Raion now grins ear to ear. How had the tables turned, had they not? This was not a rookie going for the Television Champion, nor a simple exhibition match of no consequence.

Now the Lion was at the same stage as the Nickleman - going for the XWF Universal Title itself.

And twice the Nickleman had failed. This time, he would not escape.

“Oh, but wait - Charlie Nickles actually came back. Charlie Nickles actually has something to say! Charlie Nick… just went and said the same thing he’s been saying since he first beat me.

Almost like he knew he had nothing else.

And it was already tiresome the first time, Nickleman.”

As the canines show again, Raion now grins ear to ear. How had the tables turned, had they not? This was not a rookie going for the Television Champion, nor a simple exhibition match of no consequence.

Now the Lion was at the same stage as the Nickleman - going for the XWF Universal Title itself.

And twice the Nickleman had failed. This time, he would not escape.

“I mean, it’s almost like you know, Charlie, that all the people you’ve beat in your Main Events, I’ve already beat on regular nights. They might be more than I have had, but that doesn’t matter, because in them, you did things that I did first. Before you beat the Ringmaster, I did. Before you beat Centurion, I did! To this day I remain your biggest win and you can’t stop spewing that out of your sorry snout, and you have to turn back to numbers! Because, I don’t know if we remember, but you’ve been in the XWF for almost two years, and I’ve only been here for six months! It’s almost like I knew, like now everyone knows, that you weren’t special in the first place - almost as if I’ve been the better man all this time!

And that’s why, Charlie, you have to go back to talking about pinning ALIAS to remember you once beat him right before he beat you twice. You know, the very reason I said you were just given your spot as pity. The very fact that I’m talking to you right now should be a damned thing for which you should be grateful, because I’ve been done with you since my very first message.

You now come lashing out and saying I don’t matter, but you’ve had your mouth filled with me for months. It’s almost like people remember you were Television Champion after you beat Raion Kido, and in fact, it’s almost like without me, you wouldn’t have even gone on to face ALIAS in the first place!

See, Charlie? I too can play the logic game. I’ve even said this in my first message, and now, at the very end, you come back and try to spin over what has been a complete disaster. Unfortunately, like I said, things have changed since we first met. Now, when push comes to shove, you go and slink away just like you said I did, and you only now show your snout after Bobby Bourbon slapped you with a newspaper. You’ve had weeks to make a comeback. You’ve had weeks to say something about me.

You even went and called out Cashe and Ned instead of taking it up with me. And now, once you have no choice but to show up, the only argument you have has been repeated so many times now it lost all value, because I keep coming back. And isn’t that what you’re doing against ALIAS!?”

The steely, vengeful look in the Lion’s eyes betrayed the grin that had grown wide on his face. Had Charlie Nickles not been aware of the irony? So much had he proclaimed that Raion didn’t matter, but here was Raion once more.

Just as he was against the XWF Universal Champion.

Perhaps it was time to disabuse the Nickleman of these misguided thoughts.

“If you want to play that logic, then I matter just as much as you do - because ALIAS still has to deal with you, and you still have to deal with me. By the way - nice attempt to try to sneak away a victory that doesn’t exist, but you and I have faced each other twice. And this all started because you jumped me backstage after I beat Thaddeus Duke.

So now, in your utter desperation, you’ve resorted to making stuff up out of thin air. You’re blowing up so much smoke you’re like a blown out engine, and that’s exactly what you’ve come to be. You’re at the end of your rope. You’ve got literally nothing left but coming at the nick of time!

But you know what, Charlie? I’m done with you. You don’t deserve to be here. You don’t deserve me talking to you, and I’m doing this as a courtesy. This was meant to be the ultimate duel, the ultimate victory, and you and Dolly Waters have wasted it away. Gloat to ALIAS about doing his job for him, but at least he can be bothered to bring the fight when the title is on the line. You failed, Charlie. You failed at getting the Universal Title, you failed at keeping me down, you failed at making this match be the match of the night for the Cannabis Cup. You’ve failed, failed, failed! The only thing you have to look for now is to be put down like the rabid dog you’ve always been, and that honor belongs to no one, but to Raion Kido alone.

Come July 24th, no matter how many Devil Hook Drivers you attempt to put on me, you’re going to be stopped by the power of the Lightning Bolt. This fist of mine is colliding with your heart, and it’ll put you down not just for three seconds, but forever. Out of the Universal Title picture, out of my misery, out of everybody’s misery. The Bastards lose their puppy, the coins go over your eyes, and the Lion deals the blow of justice once and for damned all.

And when that moment happens, Nickleman, the worst shall not be your death. The worst of all shall be that you’re finally forgotten - as you should be.”

“And speaking of forgotten, let’s speak about the one that has forgotten the most. Because our esteemed XWF World Champion has forgotten who it is that he is facing.”

Once more the Lion’s grin fades away, replaced by a stone-faced expression, before the Lion roars what comes next, not without a note of irony dripping from his voice.

“‘YOU’RE NOT SPECIAL!’”, ALIAS cries, from the comfort of his spot at the grandest stage of the Cannabis Cup, the XWF Universal Title draped on his shoulder, when Raion Kido was the first face the XWF Universe saw at Fire and Ice, as only a replacement, and his own was the last. ALIAS was making his claim for the belt, but Raion Kido was the one about which they talked.

“YOU’RE NOT SPECIAL!”, ALIAS screams, when Raion Kido won the briefcase in a six-person event, and ALIAS only won it in a singles match. As if that were something to be proud of. As if that were enough to insult me. As if it wasn’t right before the main event where Charlie Nickles lost it all: Goldi, the World Title, and his manhood. As if it wasn’t, somehow, more important, than ALIAS defending his belt.

“YOU’RE NOT SPECIAL!”, ALIAS now hollers in desperation, when Raion Kido has proven, more than once, that he’s capable of doing just as much as ALIAS did! Yes, I lost twice to Nickles and Bobby Bourbon, but then I beat him and grabbed the prize! You tell me that you haven’t eeeeeeeeeveeeeeeeeeer been pinned one on one, but this is the first multi-person match in which I’ve even seen you take part! Come talk to me when you actually win one of those to get a shot at your belt, and maybe you’ll have more of an argument before accusing me of running away. Because see, I faced Mark Flynn, I faced Bobby Bourbon, and Marf, and Angie and Vita, before I was the only one that had what it took to make the damnable leap.

Just as I am the only one now that seems to be willing to go against you.

So maybe, just maybe, I actually have a point when I say I am that special.”

The Lion’s voice goes from a roar to a whisper. While ALIAS had screamed his impotence, the young Osaka wrestler did not need his voice to be loud.

He needed it to be strong, and that was what he was going to be.

“I mean, I’ve heard that special line from almost every single opponent I’ve had since I stepped foot in the XWF. Xavier Lux was the first to say it, now I get it from the champion himself. Is it my fault that they’ve all fallen? Is it my fault that my journey here was faster than most, and that whatever adversity that comes through my path I come back from stronger? Is it my fault that I’m booked here, despite me not even thinking of it?

The more I hear about it, the more I hear you going “but you’ll be there somewhere, Raion, just not now”, and I say to hell with that. If I’m going to be XWF Universal Champion, what does it matter whether it’s now or in a year, two years? What’s changing here, my ability or the fact that I’m going after a spot that you want?

That’s another thing wrong with the three of you, you don’t throw backhanded compliments my way and expect me to be graceful. I’m coming here for the same motivations that you have, and at least I am honest about it. At least I make no pretense about who I am and what I do. I’m Raion Kido, the best the XWF has produced in 2022, and I’m here to make my way to the top - and to make its name shine with pride, which is more than you have done since the moment you captured it!”

This time, Raion points towards the camera. He did not forget that no one else in the XWF had done this year what he had done, and he would let no one dispute these facts.

Not even ALIAS himself.

“What else did you want me to do, ALIAS? I wasn’t coming to the XWF as anything other than a spot that Adi Gold had left free in a Pay-Per-View, suddenly I was Star of the Month in my first month in the company, and here I am now after coming out of literally nowhere. And what do I get in response? I get ALIAS, the very face that’s meant to carry the company, acting like a whiner, and crying “YOU’RE NOT SPECIAL!”. Raging and snorting like a pig, because he cannot stand not being the center of attention, not having his ego stroked like he thinks it should.

But here’s the thing, hollering hog. If you think what I’m doing is patronizing, then maybe the skin you have is paper-thin, and you should grow a new one. Like the one I have to stand the venom of everyone that slings it. Like the skin I have to tell you, right in your face, that my talk is rife with the life that I have lived!

You might want to look down on me for having Saint Seiya as an inspiration, but it’s as much my life as crude humor is to yours. It’s the very reason I’m stepping into the ring, the same exact reason that led the XWF to hire me, the very motive I stand across the ring with you here!

If all your life has been is penis jokes, then I’m sorry you’ve lived so little, ALIAS, and I’m sorry that you failed to become a man. If all you have is to lift up both middle fingers and cry obscenities at whoever stands across from you, then you fail at being anything in life.

But that’s not what I want to be. That’s not all that Raion Kido entails. What Raion Kido entails, above everything else, is being an example! What Raion Kido entails is for everyone that watches the XWF to look at me and say “I want to be that guy. I want to be the guy that, no matter what happens, keeps the standard of justice held high above everything else. I want the XWF Universe to believe that justice does prevail, because it’s what I was born to do, what I was meant to do, and the very lifeblood in my veins!”

As he finishes saying these words, the Lion clangs his right fist to his chest. So many times had his inspiration been attacked, but this was his entire reason to be.

Perhaps people had failed to understand it, perhaps they did not care.

But at an occasion like this, it was just the time the world understood.

“So tell me, ALIAS, what is that road without adversity? What is that road without a challenge to overcome? Did I not explain to Dolly that when I lost to Nickles I got to work? Charlie might deny it all he wants, but does he not know that I’m here? And don’t you accept that there’s an echo between you and I!?

But here is where the difference ends. Because unlike you, ALIAS, I actually care about making a difference. Your motivations may be just as valid to you as mine is to me, but mine at least serves as inspiration for the rest of the world. Because I don’t just do this for myself - I do this for the god damned example!

That means, ALIAS, that this match is the ultimate opportunity for me to prove the truth of what I’ve been saying all along - that the power of the universe lives within all of us. That any of us may eventually transcend and become something greater than they are. That’s the reason I lace up the boots, and here at the Cannabis Cup, I get to display it at the grandest stage of them all!”

Now his fist goes to the air, high above his head, before he brings it down once more in a thumbs down sign.

Three other people stood in his way.

And all three of them should fall.

“And that means, lady and gentlemen, that I don’t care which one of you has to go down. If it’s you, all the best, and I get to do something Nickles failed twice to do. If it’s Nickles, great, I’ve got the win I wanted and the top prize to boot. And if it’s Dolly, well, it changes nothing. Because in any of those three ways, Raion Kido becomes the XWF Universal Champion, the first man to win against ALIAS in months, and the only one to stop his reign.

Charlie will probably cry on the XWF media, you’ll claim you still weren’t beaten one on one, and maybe then we’ll go toe to toe, just the two of us, and I’ll beat you there again just to prove a point. I’ll even give you my briefcase just so you can cash it in, and then I’ll beat you there a third time.

This is where you’d say “LOLRAIONWINS!”, but again - at least I have some form of self-respect.”

A mirthless grin appears at his face, which leaves as fast as it came. While ALIAS might have enjoyed the jokes, it was time for Raion, more than ever, to get serious.

“And speaking of self-respect, I’m not even done, ladies and gentlemen! So far back does ALIAS have to go to speak of dominance, that he has to bring in 2008 too! What was I, eight, nine years old? Gee, I’m sure you also want to tell me about the ‘90s as well, tell me to get off your lawn while you’re at it. In case you haven’t noticed, my story begins at Fire and Ice in February of 2022, and six months from then, that’s exactly my point of comparison. You say in 2008 you were not half the man you are now, and I say that, in 2022, the man you’re now is not half the man I am.

You know why I say that? Because all that lashing out, and the diatribe about you spinning lies, how you don’t need to do this and that - it does nothing but confirm what I’ve said before. Tell all the stories you want, at least there’s something behind my in-ring presence. But you? Take away your words and your spinning web after web - and just like I said, there it’s absolutely nothing. It’s empty.

And that means, ALIAS, you’re empty, and it’s tragic. You’re flailing your arms against the one guy that wants to pull off miracles. You rend your garments and lash out at someone that does what you are capable of doing. You think I look at you like the monster of the day, but the only thing I see is the holder of the biggest belt in the wrestling world, and a target to destroy.

The ultimate monster, ALIAS, and the greatest enemy for a Saint of Athena.

That is why I’m willing to lay down my life on this ring. That is why, whatever it takes, I’m ending the three of you. Whether it’s at the very rooftop of the Velvet Rabbit, or at any of its floors. Because I may have the briefcase, but I’ve earned this shot, and in it I place my entire being.”

Picking up the golden bow that leans against the box of the Golden Cloth, Raion picks it up, as well as another arrow, and draws the string back once more.

“Come July 24th, the Velvet Rabbit shall see the ultimate miracle. The breaking of the universe, a new big bang. The impossible event that materializes before their very eyes. Raion Kido, the holder of the briefcase, beating the best of the XWF on the grandest stage of the Cannabis Cup.

The one shot that strikes at ultimate glory.

The golden arrow that pierces the heavens…”

*SNAP!*

One more time, the arrow flies towards the sun, its trajectory soaring ever higher, and ultimately fading from view.

“… and breaks the universe itself.”

Fade to black.]]> It looked as if the Lion had struck a nerve.

Of course, with that came ALIAS’ very heated response, and while Raion Kido knew no fear, he knew that this was the ultimate test.

Outside of the ring, things were no easier, as his path had now intertwined with the one of Ryleigh Dixon. She had called to him in a moment of distress, and he had come. There they both were, in her house in Las Vegas, and she had just woken up after a troubled night. The Lion was content to watch over her rest, but that meant he had to deal with his own burdens.

And here he was, right before the Cannabis Cup, going for nothing less than a miracle - with the wrath of every other opponent trained down on him. But now was not the time to worry about that - Ryleigh was waking, and it was her well-being that mattered most.

“...mm…”

A soft breath was released and her eyes began to open. Bright blue with a little green in the light. Her awareness was slowly returning, finding herself in strong arms she’s become familiar with. A glance at the clock and she realized how much time has elapsed. With careful movement, she turns herself around and looks into her protector’s eyes.

“Raion…?”

“Good morning, Ryleigh. Sleep well?”

When she smiles, her freckles seem to dance along her face. There’s a light red color upon her cheeks.

“Ah… yes. Though I didn’t mean to fall back asleep like this. I’m sorry”

Her left hand moves to gently comb through his lion’s mane of hair and she purses her lips.

“How long have I kept you waiting like this?”

Doing his best effort to smile, the Lion shakes his head.

“You haven’t kept me waiting at all, but I’ve been here for an hour. I couldn’t have slept anyway - I got my battles to fight.”

Although he had earned his place in the match, there was a thought drilling inside his brain, the thought that everyone he was facing had thrown at him. What if he was there because they didn’t think he could take on the XWF Universal Champion alone? What if he was just another worthy sacrifice?

“But don’t let me trouble you, lady. There are enough burdens here for one person alone.”

He places a slow, delicate kiss on her cheek, and slowly lets her go.

“What is your day looking like?”

He’s sweet. She’s smiling a little more. Just laying there on the bed, side by side, is comforting. She checks the flower calendar on the wall behind him before her eyes meet his.

“Completely free. I don’t work until tomorrow afternoon. For that, I’ll be traveling to Los Angeles in the morning. Until then…? Let’s do whatever you want.”

The entire time, her hand is softly caressing his hair. Raion can’t help but blush, but his smile widens.
“Then I got an idea. There’s a place I want to see before I get back to New York. It’s one of Las Vegas’ landmarks and it’s got an observation deck where we could go.”

He points at the sky, and the sun filtering through the window of her house.

“It’s a good place to see the stars, too. How about we go to the STRAT Hotel’s Skypod tonight?”

It was a good plan as any to take his mind off the Cannabis Cup and the focus on every other competitor bearing down on him. More importantly, it was a fine place to take Ryleigh - a woman like her deserved the best, and if Raion could make her feel that way, he would.

“This is going to sound a little strange, but… I’ve actually never been there.”

A cute snort is followed by a laugh.

“A top model who has never visited the STRAT Hotel. Can you believe that?”

Her freckles stretch along with her smile. A close observer could find patterns among them. She finally sits up and swishes her dark brown hair with a turn of her head, the locks resting over her left shoulder. Her pajamas fit for the summer solstice give her a softer appearance.

“I believe the observation deck opens in half an hour. Are you hungry?”

A soft rumbling sound might betray that question - and it was not good to think on an empty stomach, either. Raion stands up from the bed and offers her his hand.

“After how my life has been these past weeks, there is nothing I could not believe, Ryleigh. And well… I certainly feel like I’m starving!”

A mutual smile from the two should settle the deal, and she relocates to her master bedroom to change. As he watches her go, the Lion’s thoughts drift back at the task at hand, but the thought of this woman gives him a galvanizing resolve.

He was no sacrificial Lion. He was a warrior of hope. He was a Saint of Athena, and his charge was to bring light to the darkness of the world.

Even if he had only one shot, his duty was to take it - and give his life, if need be.

And if he could, that’s what he would do.

Take the shot that pierced the heavens - and the universe itself.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The STRAT Hotel’s Skypod and Observation Deck was almost deserted at that time of the morning, which suited the Lion well. There was Ryleigh, there was the staff, and there were few other guests far apart, and that was just the way he liked it. From a comfortable couch looking at the Las Vegas skyline, he was finally treating her to something she could enjoy - and his own stomach to a much-needed meal. The latte macchiato and the cheesecake slice seemed to have brought new life to him - and with it, a renewed hope.

“It’s not the Velvet Rabbit yet, but I hope in a few days’ time, we’ll have just as great a time!”

The Lion gazed at Ryleigh’s face - and her freckles - almost as if entranced. It was good to have her by his side.

And he hoped that, if she was there to see him, she would see him as the new XWF Universal Champion.

“You know we will.”

She offers him a confident smile.

“Wherever I go, a party is sure to follow!”

A soft laugh escapes her. Ah, a trademark within the Dixon family. They were self-confident, perhaps borderline cocky, and trendsetters. At least when it came to her and her oldest brother, Nathaniel. But as soon as the thought of her brother appears, she quickly makes it disappear as she enjoys her iced mocha coffee. She had already finished her jalapeño and cheddar toasted bagel. Not an ounce of the sour cream n’ onion cream cheese remained. They’re relaxing within Eats 108 of the observation deck and simply enjoying each other’s company.

“Don’t worry. You’re the real star. You’re the next XWF Universal Champion. I’ll be in the front row, cheering you on every second of the way.”

Raion drew a sigh and gave her his best smile. The thought of that was reassuring, but the thought of actually winning, and her reaction to that… maybe that was the best thing of all.

“That is about all I can ask from you, Ryleigh - and for that, I am most grateful!”

He takes her hand and gives it a kiss, and once they’re both finished their meals, he leads her by the hand into the outside of the observation deck. A white railing serves as the edge to keep people inside, and several coin-operated binoculars dot the area.

But the Lion isn’t there to just watch the sky. There was also a message to send, and with it went his entire soul.

After all, this was his shot.

“Come with me! There’s something I want to do!”

He places his Golden Cloth Box on the ground, and, after putting on the Gold Cloth of Leo, he takes something else.

A golden bow, with a golden arrow, which he gives to Ryleigh. Her eyes widen slightly, a bit taken aback by what he’s presented to her. Initially, she laughs just a little.

“How did you get this in here…?”

Some time, somewhere, he must’ve received special permission. Sneaky, sneaky lion. The Crown Jewel of the Dixons smiles and lightly pulls on the bow to test the integrity of the string. After a moment, she draws it back with the arrow’s tips pressed against the string. A regal, elegant pose encompasses her.

“I… took archery classes for quite some time.”

“Remind me never to cross you!”

His breath taken away by Ryleigh’s pose, he joins behind her so that both are drawing back the string, and holding the bow steady - the tip of the golden arrow glinting in the sunlight and aimed right at its source.

“Ready?”

“Yes. Are you sure this is safe, Raion-kun?”

Her smile only widens at the prospect of firing the arrow with this bow. The sunlight in the outdoors offers kisses upon her freckled face. ]For his part, the Lion gives her a mischievous wink.

“For us and for anyone here, yes. For them? I would not be so certain. Let fly!”

Nodding at each other, both release the string, and in a lightning-fast, snapping motion, the golden arrow is propelled forward, and ever upward, until it disappears in the sky, engulfed in the light of the sun…


“That, my dear Ryleigh, was my shot. And as it takes its course… I’m happy that you are here by my side.”

As he looks at the sky, he feels the weight on his shoulders lifted by the presence of the woman at his side. She looks up -- not to the sky but to him. A warmth caresses her cheeks and she takes a moment to admire him. His strength, his valor… His bright eyes and his wild hair. Time is lost between the two.

“...I’m with you for as long as you want me to be, love.”

In Britain, it’s an endearing term. A simple title. She was born in San Diego, but the English lineage runs in her blood. With a sweet smile, she leans up and kisses his cheek. Blushing once more, the Lion closes his eyes for what seems like an eternity, before opening them up to look at her.

“And I for you, Ryleigh.”

The golden arrow that they both had shot would meet its mark.

And at the Cannabis Cup, the Lion would meet his own.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“As this finally comes to an end, and the Cannabis Cup approaches, I hear the same exact thing from my foes, over and over again. The only reason I am here is because there is nobody else. The only reason I am here is because I cannot take on ALIAS alone. It’s been an endless cycle of the same people telling me that I can’t do this, right after the very reason for why I am in this match happened in the very first place.

And now, when we’re at the final stretch, when the last words have come to appear, Charlie Nickles is silent, and Dolly Waters can only be bothered to show up at the very last minute.

But as tragic as that is, neither of the two compare to our esteemed XWF Universal Champion. Because all he has done from the moment I spoke last, is to flail in impotence at the onslaught that awaits him. He’s shown his rear and his middle fingers, and thrown a tantrum worthy of Charlie Nickles’ best rant on the XWF social media.

And as I look at all of you bearing down on me, I have but one single goal in mind. I’m taking the shot I was given, the shot of a very lifetime.

The shot that will pierce the heavens and make the universe burst.”

So the Lion begins in the open air of the outdoors Observation Deck, the ornate metal of his Golden Cloth reflecting the glory of the sun in the sky, and his white cape flapping dramatically behind him. The Lion clenches a fist, his eyes now glinting with the shine of the warrior that sallies out once the gates have opened.

Because this, more than ever before, was the time to fight. The battle for the universe itself.

More than ever before, it was the time to make the cosmos burn.


“I want to make something clear, Dolly. I never asked for any of this. I never asked for Theo Pryce’s attention, or for that of Ned Kaye and Jason Cashe. Same way I never asked for Thaddeus’ attention when we faced either. I was content to be where I was, and all this time, I’ve fought alone.

Is it my fault I earned all of this? It’s not like we’ve ever had the opportunity to see me cash the briefcase after I’ve just won it, and no, I’m not the type to walk in on someone else’s match without invitation. Leave that to Sarah Lacklan, and I’m sure you’d do that if you were given the chance, but some of us actually like to earn our accomplishments.

That’s why I am where I’m booked. And that’s why I’m booked against the three of you.

I mean, it’s embarrassing enough that what you call ‘the greatest wrestler of our generation’ has to bring the “can’t beat me one on one point”, since it makes him look like the rage pig he acted like last time we saw him, but from you? It’s just that same thing at which you hiss at your manager, then turn back and have the gall to say it to my face.

And then you dare criticize him for telling you to back down.”

Raion peels back his teeth and shows his canines. This was hypocrisy, plain and simple, and he would not stand for it.

Little did it matter that Dolly Waters had to echo the words of ALIAS. If he had been booked in this match, it was for his value alone - only by his value, and his value alone, would the Lion be judged.

And by his value, the rest of them would fall.

“Which, by the way, the way that this is going, maybe you should actually listen. After all, you’ve just used losing against the Ringmaster to say that me beating you wouldn’t be as bad! I mean, at least two other people in this match have beaten him, and you mean to use losing to him against me? Do you even listen to yourself, or do you just like to hear your Southern drawl that much?

In fact, I quite distinctly remember saying that I would deal the three of you, and the XWF as a whole, the biggest blow it ever got, and that was by winning the Universal Title without cashing in the briefcase. You know, the biggest win anyone could ever get? The thing that seems almost impossible? Were you eating mothballs when I said that, or are you trying to make this about yourself?

But that’s not even the worst part of it all, no. The worst part of it all is that you dare paint me as mocking your child abuse. I didn’t know making a tripping reference equated that somehow, but let’s not get that in the way of the ‘poor me’ story. Fast forward to now, and tripping over your own feet is all you’ve been doing, and there you have no one to blame but yourself. And believe me, I don’t wish that for anyone - not even for Nickles or even for worse than him, and not for you.”

This time, the Lion slashes the air with both hands, the very motion of his arms cutting the air around with a quick sound. He did mean his words. No one, not even his worst enemy, deserved a constant streak of misfortune.

But he was no stranger to misfortune of his own, was he? Twice he had been dashed by Charlie Nickles, and every time he used it as fuel to come back stronger.

He had performed the ultimate comeback, and Charlie Nickles was there again.

This time it would end the way it was supposed to end.

And there would be no Dolly Waters-like lamenting.

“It’s ridiculousness of the highest order, but it’s not funny, especially for you. I did mention you held every title the XWF had to offer, and I’m even willing to give you enough credit to say whether you deserve to be here is irrelevant. You are here and I’m supposed to face you, and Nickles, and ALIAS, like the biggest match I’ve ever faced in my career, because it is. It’s not my fault you come into it in the worst position of all, but I’m not the one slashing my wrists and bleeding out to the world.

Point your finger at me and say how I don’t mean what I say, Dolly, at least I’m not the one lying to the audience. At least I’m not throwing a pity party out of going from pitfall after pitfall. Not that I would know much about that, given that through which I have been, but for the sake of argument, I’ve lost three times. One of them was inconsequential, and I wasn’t even pinned, but the other two were big. I’ve suffered a title match loss, and what did I do? I went back to work.

I suffered a loss at a tournament finals, and what did I do? I went back to work! I didn’t contemplate pulling out of a match where I had been booked, especially not one for a title, because while you claim to stay true to the dream, I actually go out there and fight to make it come true! And now the one win I got overshadows those two by leaps and bounds! Every single word that comes out of my lips is meant from the bottom of my heart, and at the end of the day, I go out and prove that resilience and hard work pay. You’re letting your failures define you, I’m turning them into motivation for tomorrow.

So yes, you too bring the times I’ve lost to Nickles, it’s all the three of you have done, because it’s the only thing you have, and after Leap of Faith, that well has run dry. Even now that he’s meant to be here he’s gone and ran away, and you’ve done the exact same thing. You’ve gone from chasing the footsteps of Thaddeus Duke to chasing the tail of the Nickleman after he’s chosen to hide. You don’t get to discredit me after that.

You don’t get to teach me what this battlefield is.”

As the Lion makes silence, there is no smile upon his face - nothing written on it but grim determination. This event was right before the finals of the Cannabis Cup, and it deserved to be treated accordingly. For all his faults ALIAS had, and the Lion had too.

Dolly Waters and Charlie Nickles had not, but here she was attempting to lecture him.

But it was time for him to give a lecture of his own.

“Both you and Chucky Murder have chosen to run, I’ve been the one to hit the first blow and only ALIAS has risen, and this is for the biggest title. The one that Charlie gave up Goldi to chase. The one you’ve never won. And the one that ALIAS claims as his universe. This battlefield has been mine from the beginning and at the very least I expect you to fight with the same dedication as I have, and more. You know why? You should, Ms. Southern Gal, you, and ALIAS, have said it yourselves: Because I still have the briefcase. And I could have all this to myself.

But what you see as an advantage, I see as a requirement, for I entered this match not just for the simple title.

I entered to pit myself against the very best the XWF has to offer.

I entered to give Charlie Nickles the reckoning he’s had for a long time.

And I entered to get the biggest win in my career, right from the very one I had last Pay-Per-View!”

“That is a battlefield for which I’ve come prepared, a battlefield that I mean to make my own, and the battlefield where the shot is fired that pierces the very Heavens and breaks the universe.

The battle starts on July 24th, and all floors of the Velvet Rabbit shall see the golden arrow go through all of your hearts.

And you, my dear Dolly, shall be the first to fall.”

The young wrestler from Osaka points towards the ground, to the void below the STRAT Hotel Observation Deck.

His warning has been given, and Dolly’s fate was now her own.

Now, however, it was time to take on the name in this match that gave him the greatest motivation.

“Unless, of course, Charlie Nickles decides he’s too busy playing Yugi-Oh to show up at the Rabbit, eh?

This should not have gone unnoticed. You knew I was coming for you, Charlie. You might have looked down on me once more, but you wanted to make the point of beating ALIAS. What is left of that now, Chucky Murder?

Seriously, out of all of us here, Dolly was the one with the worst track record, but you were the one with the least right to be here, and now you’ve turned into the biggest disappointment.

You’ve filled your mouth for months about how you were the Kido killer, how I walked away a lesser man, and now that the Lion has come once more, your entire course of action is to burrow in the ground like the worm you are.

And I do remember saying, the first time, that a worm may never beat a Lion.”

As the canines show again, Raion now grins ear to ear. How had the tables turned, had they not? This was not a rookie going for the Television Champion, nor a simple exhibition match of no consequence.

Now the Lion was at the same stage as the Nickleman - going for the XWF Universal Title itself.

And twice the Nickleman had failed. This time, he would not escape.

“Oh, but wait - Charlie Nickles actually came back. Charlie Nickles actually has something to say! Charlie Nick… just went and said the same thing he’s been saying since he first beat me.

Almost like he knew he had nothing else.

And it was already tiresome the first time, Nickleman.”

As the canines show again, Raion now grins ear to ear. How had the tables turned, had they not? This was not a rookie going for the Television Champion, nor a simple exhibition match of no consequence.

Now the Lion was at the same stage as the Nickleman - going for the XWF Universal Title itself.

And twice the Nickleman had failed. This time, he would not escape.

“I mean, it’s almost like you know, Charlie, that all the people you’ve beat in your Main Events, I’ve already beat on regular nights. They might be more than I have had, but that doesn’t matter, because in them, you did things that I did first. Before you beat the Ringmaster, I did. Before you beat Centurion, I did! To this day I remain your biggest win and you can’t stop spewing that out of your sorry snout, and you have to turn back to numbers! Because, I don’t know if we remember, but you’ve been in the XWF for almost two years, and I’ve only been here for six months! It’s almost like I knew, like now everyone knows, that you weren’t special in the first place - almost as if I’ve been the better man all this time!

And that’s why, Charlie, you have to go back to talking about pinning ALIAS to remember you once beat him right before he beat you twice. You know, the very reason I said you were just given your spot as pity. The very fact that I’m talking to you right now should be a damned thing for which you should be grateful, because I’ve been done with you since my very first message.

You now come lashing out and saying I don’t matter, but you’ve had your mouth filled with me for months. It’s almost like people remember you were Television Champion after you beat Raion Kido, and in fact, it’s almost like without me, you wouldn’t have even gone on to face ALIAS in the first place!

See, Charlie? I too can play the logic game. I’ve even said this in my first message, and now, at the very end, you come back and try to spin over what has been a complete disaster. Unfortunately, like I said, things have changed since we first met. Now, when push comes to shove, you go and slink away just like you said I did, and you only now show your snout after Bobby Bourbon slapped you with a newspaper. You’ve had weeks to make a comeback. You’ve had weeks to say something about me.

You even went and called out Cashe and Ned instead of taking it up with me. And now, once you have no choice but to show up, the only argument you have has been repeated so many times now it lost all value, because I keep coming back. And isn’t that what you’re doing against ALIAS!?”

The steely, vengeful look in the Lion’s eyes betrayed the grin that had grown wide on his face. Had Charlie Nickles not been aware of the irony? So much had he proclaimed that Raion didn’t matter, but here was Raion once more.

Just as he was against the XWF Universal Champion.

Perhaps it was time to disabuse the Nickleman of these misguided thoughts.

“If you want to play that logic, then I matter just as much as you do - because ALIAS still has to deal with you, and you still have to deal with me. By the way - nice attempt to try to sneak away a victory that doesn’t exist, but you and I have faced each other twice. And this all started because you jumped me backstage after I beat Thaddeus Duke.

So now, in your utter desperation, you’ve resorted to making stuff up out of thin air. You’re blowing up so much smoke you’re like a blown out engine, and that’s exactly what you’ve come to be. You’re at the end of your rope. You’ve got literally nothing left but coming at the nick of time!

But you know what, Charlie? I’m done with you. You don’t deserve to be here. You don’t deserve me talking to you, and I’m doing this as a courtesy. This was meant to be the ultimate duel, the ultimate victory, and you and Dolly Waters have wasted it away. Gloat to ALIAS about doing his job for him, but at least he can be bothered to bring the fight when the title is on the line. You failed, Charlie. You failed at getting the Universal Title, you failed at keeping me down, you failed at making this match be the match of the night for the Cannabis Cup. You’ve failed, failed, failed! The only thing you have to look for now is to be put down like the rabid dog you’ve always been, and that honor belongs to no one, but to Raion Kido alone.

Come July 24th, no matter how many Devil Hook Drivers you attempt to put on me, you’re going to be stopped by the power of the Lightning Bolt. This fist of mine is colliding with your heart, and it’ll put you down not just for three seconds, but forever. Out of the Universal Title picture, out of my misery, out of everybody’s misery. The Bastards lose their puppy, the coins go over your eyes, and the Lion deals the blow of justice once and for damned all.

And when that moment happens, Nickleman, the worst shall not be your death. The worst of all shall be that you’re finally forgotten - as you should be.”

“And speaking of forgotten, let’s speak about the one that has forgotten the most. Because our esteemed XWF World Champion has forgotten who it is that he is facing.”

Once more the Lion’s grin fades away, replaced by a stone-faced expression, before the Lion roars what comes next, not without a note of irony dripping from his voice.

“‘YOU’RE NOT SPECIAL!’”, ALIAS cries, from the comfort of his spot at the grandest stage of the Cannabis Cup, the XWF Universal Title draped on his shoulder, when Raion Kido was the first face the XWF Universe saw at Fire and Ice, as only a replacement, and his own was the last. ALIAS was making his claim for the belt, but Raion Kido was the one about which they talked.

“YOU’RE NOT SPECIAL!”, ALIAS screams, when Raion Kido won the briefcase in a six-person event, and ALIAS only won it in a singles match. As if that were something to be proud of. As if that were enough to insult me. As if it wasn’t right before the main event where Charlie Nickles lost it all: Goldi, the World Title, and his manhood. As if it wasn’t, somehow, more important, than ALIAS defending his belt.

“YOU’RE NOT SPECIAL!”, ALIAS now hollers in desperation, when Raion Kido has proven, more than once, that he’s capable of doing just as much as ALIAS did! Yes, I lost twice to Nickles and Bobby Bourbon, but then I beat him and grabbed the prize! You tell me that you haven’t eeeeeeeeeveeeeeeeeeer been pinned one on one, but this is the first multi-person match in which I’ve even seen you take part! Come talk to me when you actually win one of those to get a shot at your belt, and maybe you’ll have more of an argument before accusing me of running away. Because see, I faced Mark Flynn, I faced Bobby Bourbon, and Marf, and Angie and Vita, before I was the only one that had what it took to make the damnable leap.

Just as I am the only one now that seems to be willing to go against you.

So maybe, just maybe, I actually have a point when I say I am that special.”

The Lion’s voice goes from a roar to a whisper. While ALIAS had screamed his impotence, the young Osaka wrestler did not need his voice to be loud.

He needed it to be strong, and that was what he was going to be.

“I mean, I’ve heard that special line from almost every single opponent I’ve had since I stepped foot in the XWF. Xavier Lux was the first to say it, now I get it from the champion himself. Is it my fault that they’ve all fallen? Is it my fault that my journey here was faster than most, and that whatever adversity that comes through my path I come back from stronger? Is it my fault that I’m booked here, despite me not even thinking of it?

The more I hear about it, the more I hear you going “but you’ll be there somewhere, Raion, just not now”, and I say to hell with that. If I’m going to be XWF Universal Champion, what does it matter whether it’s now or in a year, two years? What’s changing here, my ability or the fact that I’m going after a spot that you want?

That’s another thing wrong with the three of you, you don’t throw backhanded compliments my way and expect me to be graceful. I’m coming here for the same motivations that you have, and at least I am honest about it. At least I make no pretense about who I am and what I do. I’m Raion Kido, the best the XWF has produced in 2022, and I’m here to make my way to the top - and to make its name shine with pride, which is more than you have done since the moment you captured it!”

This time, Raion points towards the camera. He did not forget that no one else in the XWF had done this year what he had done, and he would let no one dispute these facts.

Not even ALIAS himself.

“What else did you want me to do, ALIAS? I wasn’t coming to the XWF as anything other than a spot that Adi Gold had left free in a Pay-Per-View, suddenly I was Star of the Month in my first month in the company, and here I am now after coming out of literally nowhere. And what do I get in response? I get ALIAS, the very face that’s meant to carry the company, acting like a whiner, and crying “YOU’RE NOT SPECIAL!”. Raging and snorting like a pig, because he cannot stand not being the center of attention, not having his ego stroked like he thinks it should.

But here’s the thing, hollering hog. If you think what I’m doing is patronizing, then maybe the skin you have is paper-thin, and you should grow a new one. Like the one I have to stand the venom of everyone that slings it. Like the skin I have to tell you, right in your face, that my talk is rife with the life that I have lived!

You might want to look down on me for having Saint Seiya as an inspiration, but it’s as much my life as crude humor is to yours. It’s the very reason I’m stepping into the ring, the same exact reason that led the XWF to hire me, the very motive I stand across the ring with you here!

If all your life has been is penis jokes, then I’m sorry you’ve lived so little, ALIAS, and I’m sorry that you failed to become a man. If all you have is to lift up both middle fingers and cry obscenities at whoever stands across from you, then you fail at being anything in life.

But that’s not what I want to be. That’s not all that Raion Kido entails. What Raion Kido entails, above everything else, is being an example! What Raion Kido entails is for everyone that watches the XWF to look at me and say “I want to be that guy. I want to be the guy that, no matter what happens, keeps the standard of justice held high above everything else. I want the XWF Universe to believe that justice does prevail, because it’s what I was born to do, what I was meant to do, and the very lifeblood in my veins!”

As he finishes saying these words, the Lion clangs his right fist to his chest. So many times had his inspiration been attacked, but this was his entire reason to be.

Perhaps people had failed to understand it, perhaps they did not care.

But at an occasion like this, it was just the time the world understood.

“So tell me, ALIAS, what is that road without adversity? What is that road without a challenge to overcome? Did I not explain to Dolly that when I lost to Nickles I got to work? Charlie might deny it all he wants, but does he not know that I’m here? And don’t you accept that there’s an echo between you and I!?

But here is where the difference ends. Because unlike you, ALIAS, I actually care about making a difference. Your motivations may be just as valid to you as mine is to me, but mine at least serves as inspiration for the rest of the world. Because I don’t just do this for myself - I do this for the god damned example!

That means, ALIAS, that this match is the ultimate opportunity for me to prove the truth of what I’ve been saying all along - that the power of the universe lives within all of us. That any of us may eventually transcend and become something greater than they are. That’s the reason I lace up the boots, and here at the Cannabis Cup, I get to display it at the grandest stage of them all!”

Now his fist goes to the air, high above his head, before he brings it down once more in a thumbs down sign.

Three other people stood in his way.

And all three of them should fall.

“And that means, lady and gentlemen, that I don’t care which one of you has to go down. If it’s you, all the best, and I get to do something Nickles failed twice to do. If it’s Nickles, great, I’ve got the win I wanted and the top prize to boot. And if it’s Dolly, well, it changes nothing. Because in any of those three ways, Raion Kido becomes the XWF Universal Champion, the first man to win against ALIAS in months, and the only one to stop his reign.

Charlie will probably cry on the XWF media, you’ll claim you still weren’t beaten one on one, and maybe then we’ll go toe to toe, just the two of us, and I’ll beat you there again just to prove a point. I’ll even give you my briefcase just so you can cash it in, and then I’ll beat you there a third time.

This is where you’d say “LOLRAIONWINS!”, but again - at least I have some form of self-respect.”

A mirthless grin appears at his face, which leaves as fast as it came. While ALIAS might have enjoyed the jokes, it was time for Raion, more than ever, to get serious.

“And speaking of self-respect, I’m not even done, ladies and gentlemen! So far back does ALIAS have to go to speak of dominance, that he has to bring in 2008 too! What was I, eight, nine years old? Gee, I’m sure you also want to tell me about the ‘90s as well, tell me to get off your lawn while you’re at it. In case you haven’t noticed, my story begins at Fire and Ice in February of 2022, and six months from then, that’s exactly my point of comparison. You say in 2008 you were not half the man you are now, and I say that, in 2022, the man you’re now is not half the man I am.

You know why I say that? Because all that lashing out, and the diatribe about you spinning lies, how you don’t need to do this and that - it does nothing but confirm what I’ve said before. Tell all the stories you want, at least there’s something behind my in-ring presence. But you? Take away your words and your spinning web after web - and just like I said, there it’s absolutely nothing. It’s empty.

And that means, ALIAS, you’re empty, and it’s tragic. You’re flailing your arms against the one guy that wants to pull off miracles. You rend your garments and lash out at someone that does what you are capable of doing. You think I look at you like the monster of the day, but the only thing I see is the holder of the biggest belt in the wrestling world, and a target to destroy.

The ultimate monster, ALIAS, and the greatest enemy for a Saint of Athena.

That is why I’m willing to lay down my life on this ring. That is why, whatever it takes, I’m ending the three of you. Whether it’s at the very rooftop of the Velvet Rabbit, or at any of its floors. Because I may have the briefcase, but I’ve earned this shot, and in it I place my entire being.”

Picking up the golden bow that leans against the box of the Golden Cloth, Raion picks it up, as well as another arrow, and draws the string back once more.

“Come July 24th, the Velvet Rabbit shall see the ultimate miracle. The breaking of the universe, a new big bang. The impossible event that materializes before their very eyes. Raion Kido, the holder of the briefcase, beating the best of the XWF on the grandest stage of the Cannabis Cup.

The one shot that strikes at ultimate glory.

The golden arrow that pierces the heavens…”

*SNAP!*

One more time, the arrow flies towards the sun, its trajectory soaring ever higher, and ultimately fading from view.

“… and breaks the universe itself.”

Fade to black.]]> <![CDATA[e t e r n a l b l u e]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44028 Fri, 08 Jul 2022 19:08:24 -0700 deathproofcoreyblack]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44028 The massive roar of a matte black, early 70s Chevy Nova echoes throughout the landscape as it hits a turn and rockets off at Mach speed. Corn fields, grass fields, tree lines and blacktop road are the only visible things toward the horizon, the sun setting on another day. The car rumbles forward, slowing and taking a quick left turn onto a dirt road, sliding a bit and sending dirt, sand and rock jettisoning backward as the black rimmed back wheels spin.

A quarter mile or so later, the sun's beams have become golden as it begins setting, the black car comes to a slow, then a right turn into a tree lined driveway, and back to a blackened pile of ash. The car stops a few feet from it, as the door opens and Corey Black steps out, he turns the vehicle off. It grumbles and spatters as the engine fades. Corey takes a step or two forward, turns back and grabs a flashlight, anticipating darkness soon.

He cautiously wanders into the ashen pile, surely it used to be a structure as not burned wooden beams jut out of the black mass. He kicks over one, looking underneath, swiping his foot through the soot to check the solid remains.

The sun has set, Corey clicks the flashlight on. He has a water bottle in his pocket, splashing some liquid forward and shining his light upon the wet spots. Another splash, another light shine, moves some remnants around and finally, paydirt.

He struck gold.

Corey kneels down and a toothy grin forms, he grabs the object he was searching for and releases it from its location under yet another wooden beam. It's covered in thick, tar-like soot that Corey washes off. He points his light at it once again, now that it's cleaner, it twinkles. Shimmering, shining melted round piece of nothing. Corey stands up and dusts his pants off, then his shoes, and hurriedly walks back to his car. He gets in, placing the treasure on the seat next to him, quickly tosses his seat belt on and throws the car in gear, spinning a one eighty degree turn and heading off the way he came.

[Image: deathproof.png]

Some time later, with a darkened sky behind him, Corey Black stands with his head down, looking at the ground. A gentle breeze comes by, lifting his hair up ever so slightly, even moving his long beard with it a bit. The angle is set in a way that only sky can be seen behind Corey. He opens his eyes, looking right at the camera. He breathes in deep and the exhales, a sneer makes his nose scrunch.

"I've been called many names in my twenty year career. Hell, I was called many names before my career too. That's a different tragedy for a different supershow.

First was 'The Human Horror Show.' I began my journey in pro wrestling as someone else. Hell, I lived most of my early life as someone else. A specter that haunts me to this day. If I could rewrite history I would, but alas, time moves forward. Under the guise of a mask or face paint and Satanism, I was thrust into the budding hardcore division. I quickly earned the nickname. It carried throughout my formative years, striking fear in the hearts of many that would be unfortunate enough to be tasked with attempting to defeat such a creature.

As the demon was exercised, I sought more. Finally myself, I did what any young man that wants to learn would do, I moved to Japan and wrestled under yet another mask and yet another assumed name. 'The Ghost of Tokyo' I was called, a physical representation of the dark underworld that is said to hold kami, obake, yōkai, yūrei and many more horrible wraiths. I soon felt that home was where I should be, and I returned stateside with a new set of skills to unleash upon poor, unsuspecting souls.

Home wasn't exactly what I remembered it to be. Home wasn't what I knew it to be. I had been lied to, told one series of events led me to where I was when really it was all fiction. So I left. I went somewhere else, I wrestled new people and I had a new name - 'The Avenger.' Comic books were a constant place of happiness for me in my life no matter where I went or who I was. I thought I was someone worth a damn, tackling pickpockets in the street, helping old ladies cross the road. It was ridiculous. It was.. it was me for the first time in my life.

Returning home, I made some friends. Or, rather, I helped some people out in a tag team match and we became the strongest unit in the history of the business. The name Pantheon will still send chills down the spines of those who were there to witness our glory. In the end, I was the last man standing.. I was 'The Pantheon.'

After that shine subsided I was left with the question that has plagued me for nearly my whole life - who am I? I went to find out and as it turns out, my bloodline dates back thousands of years to a settlement of vikings in Norway and Denmark. But I was alone, no clan, no stable of men to do my bidding. I was alone. I was a specialist. I was the best of the best, the one man you'd call upon to eliminate any threat you may have. I was 'The Jomsviking' - disciplined, tested, a proven warrior.

But that wasn't enough. Soon it became evident I stood on hallowed ground. An echelon above the rest. Skill, drive, passion, all exceeding the landscape as a whole by an infinite measure. None could fell anything I wished to do. I took what I wanted, when I wanted. There was nobody to stop me. Nobody had the will, the strength, the resolve to stand across the ring from who was now 'The King of All Wrestlers' and take what was his. From that day on, seven years ago, I wore the crown just so others knew they weren't good enough. Titans, giants, champions, entire stables, entire companies were laid to waste. The King sat upon his throne and laughed. Yet he yearned for more. I wanted to see what was beyond the walls I had been in. To view luscious landscapes and sprawling fields I had just heard about.

At first, I wasn't taken seriously. Why would I be? Some dude over there in the corner of the world calling himself King. A dime a dozen in the entire picture. But I earned those eyes last year. I demanded that the professional wrestling landscape at large turns and kneels. As soon as the ref's hand hit the third time at Evolution last year, whether for better or worse, a name you may not have heard of finally echoed throughout the cosmos and suddenly, in the blink of an eye, I had an entire world coming for my crown.

I left my home to go on a Cruise where I was part of the main event, tagging with people I'd now call friends. I competed in the Roth Invitational, making it all the way to the finals and becoming the only, to my knowledge, person to leave without being pinned nor submitted and not win the whole thing. Denzel Porter came calling, requesting a battle between to of the sickest individuals he could put together and I made Brandon Moore look like Barney the fucking Dinosaur.

All while at my home, I was challenged by some of the best the world has to offer. Until you came knocking, Chris Page. You and your two goons saw fit to toss me out of Havoc, a match that has eluded me for decades and one I was most poised to win. And for what? We were already set to do battle at your show. In your woman's venue. Under your own chosen rule set. What could you possibly have gained from coming into my world and trying to suffocate me?

Were you trying to make sure I wouldn't make it to the Cup? Doing what you do best and interjecting yourself where you don't belong? No, you were coming for the crown. You thought it represented the pinnacle in Action Wrestling. You saw it atop the head of a man that has seen it all, done it all, and continues to mow down opposition and while the company gave you an opportunity to win gold you squandered it. It incensed you. How could the great Chris Page come up empty? Your goal from then on was to make sure the place that was opening its arms to you would no longer have their beacon. Their shining star. Their Horror Show, Ghost, Avenger, Pantheon, Jomsviking.. their King.

But even kings die, Page."

The camera pans upward and back, revealing Corey is standing on a rooftop and holding his former crown which is now nothing more than a melted blob of metal in a circular shape. He is wearing jeans, a black t-shirt and black Chuck Taylor All-Stars. He smiles, knowing full well the intentions he has. He steps forward, over a roof brace and shows the camera what he has done to the symbol the used to stand for.

"I am more than that."

He takes a step back, placing his left foot in front of the other and cradles the object with both hands, quarterback style position. Corey turns left, then right, checking his options before he swings his arm up and back then hurls the golden ring over the edge of the building! Moments pass before it clinks and clangs to a resting place down below. Corey turns his back on the direction he threw the crown, pink lights now casting their glow to the sky from the ground below. They move in unison, two of them, crossing ever so slightly. All while darker and darker clouds have taken a resting place in the heavens above, even covering the moon so its glow is no longer illuminating the rooftop. Corey paces now as he speaks, becoming more animated.

"You saw another place that claims the best, you came knocking and treated us like a third world country because you weren't given the royal treatment right out of the gate, despite the fact that you beat JC Keeton and then expected a James Raven size truckload of bills and adulation. To fight JC Keeton. Then it was a gift for you to grace us with your presence on television. Millions of people watch us on CBS and Paramount+ - check Google - we didn't need or WANT whatever 'boost' you gave us. We're not in some dirty, dingy basement in New York, we're not in a warehouse in Chicago, we don't run limited capacity hockey arenas, your gift didn't mean fuck all. We're in the largest stadiums in the world, the biggest crowds in the world and we already have the over the hill stoner demographic covered with Dandy DiVito, you dipshit mark.

You think you're so goddamn ahead of this curve, you have gone done a ring around the rosie and your pockets are full of fucking rocks. You joined a whole new company just to get deathmatch practice against 'deathmatch wrestler' Corey Black. You owe about half a dozen wrestlers their dignity back because you treated them like back alley bitches, Page. A supposed man of the people with his giant gaggle of minions signed on to his Enterprising glory.

You're looking at a man who has had exactly three deathmatches in the last five years, Page. Yeah, I'm proficient at them. I've got a long history with this brutal form of combat but you, fuck, you walk this Earth thinking it's the only thing I can do. Like you're actually, for real, doing me a favor by opening yourself up to bludgeoning, lacerations and dismemberment. You absolutely are, don't mince my words. This is my chosen wheelhouse, Page, but I'm not some backyard dork rolling around in thumbtacks for six fans on a message board.

Yeah, I can go. But your carny ass doesn't look beyond what sits on Twitter in front of you. You don't see the long legacy I've left, the five star classics I have in my wake, the ladder matches, the chambers, the one on one, man verses man, one pinfall or submission takes it all PROFESSIONAL WRESTLER that stands before you. Japan, Mexico, Canada - I've been everywhere and I have learned everyTHING. You cannot go hold for hold with me, nor can you go blow for blow. You're damn near fifty years old Chris, you'd think how close you are to getting fifteen percent off breakfast at Sizzler would make you look at the world just a little different. But no, you've been this up your own ass melting popsicle stick for as long as you've had people watching you.

So yeah, I'm going to bust some light tubes on your head. I'm going to rake your wrinkled face with barbed wire. I'm going to jump off that balcony but I'm also going to OUT WORK your ass in every sense of the word. Your fingers are in too many pots, Page, you should have had someone actually sit down and explain who you're truly fighting.

You can't even get 'King' taken off your card.

It's people like you that made me drop it. This melted hunk of metal, representing all that was wrong with the industry. You came to me wanting this, Chris. Just this. Not me. Not the man it was resting upon. It's why James came, why Dickie came, why Matty came and why you were knocking at my door, I'm not foolish enough to turn a blind eye and continue the charade. A man who has the confidence and resolve to back up what he was saying, claiming to be the King of All Wrestlers, drives the egotistical jackoffs in as if they're going to liberate everyone and beat that fucking guy.

No liberation here, Page, I already did you the favor. I killed the King of All Wrestlers because men and women like you are plentiful. Blinded by the light glimmering off a fucking nickname. There's so many people out there that claim to be King of this or that, the dilution became evident the second I opened myself up to the world at large. You've seen them, Page, you've surely been involved with many but I'm the guy that made that truly mean something. I'm the one that was called King not out of cockiness or bravado, it was because I was a benevolent ruler. A true larger than life, certified legend, someone the new guys can look at and say 'yeah, that's what I want to be.' More than championships, more than Hall of Fame inductions, something greater than anything you'll ever claim to be, Chris.

Now I'm the man that will drive his elbow through your rotting cranium and pinpoint whatever brain cell you haven't smoked to death, being the first person in what seems like twenty years to get it through your head, by force or by enlightenment, that you're not the top of the mountain, Page.

I am.

I don't need a worthless fucking crown or name to prove it anymore, 'King Slayer.'"

A droplet of rain plummets from the clouds above and lands on Corey's arm. It wets the shirt he is wearing, then another, and more, soon a full on downpour has befell the location Corey is at. He doesn't mind, his hair hangs wet, his beard glistens in the light that is coming from the city below him, with every step he makes he splashes some standing water and as he beats his chest, the damp thud makes him all the more excited. Lighting cracks the sky, his fist rises as it does, a white flash and thunderous boom that would send other scurrying, does nothing but energize Corey Black. He leans in, almost yelling into the lens.

"I'm the guy that would tell you when and where I'd be just so you'd show up and bring your little band of misfit toys with you. You called me stupid for letting it continue to happen. Maybe you're right. But I kept getting up. And I kept announced exactly where I'd be. It took the three of you each and every time. Havoc, XIII, all the Clashes and shows.. man. I thought you knew better. Clearly the only thing on your mind was trying to rip my metaphorical, dumb as fuck crown from my head. Congratulations, that coup you had was what amounts to a training montage. Your best shots, your boldest moves, your boys' actions, all of it, Page. Sit there and think about it for ten seconds, I'll wait."

Corey shifts his weight to the side, checking his wrist where a watch would be. He taps it, brings it to his ear to listen for any ticking. He laughs to himself, drenched but still continuing.

"You can't kill me, Chris Page. No. In order to beat me, you're going to have to make sure this heart no longer beats and you don't have that in you. I've been on the other end of multiple beatings you've given, you and your buddies, and none of it stopped me from getting back up and asking for more. When the odds were even, you left with a bruised ego and a giant L on your record. Me? I left with the satisfaction of knowing even outside my home turf, you're a soft belly bitch.

That's what this is, isn't it? You came to my side of the fence because I was going to yours. It's commendable. Nobody asked for it and nobody gives a shit, although good on ya. How is it going to look when I walk out of the Cannabis Cup with your entrails around my neck and I'm carrying your head? When this is all said and done, whatever remains of your estate will have no choice but to rename this event the 'Corey Black Cup' in disgrace for the man that thought he ruled the world, yet fell short, yet again, to the guy that nobody seemed to believe in.

I'm not going to rub it in anyone's face. In fact, I usually gain respect for the people that test their might against me. Hell, I went on a Cruise with one afterward and made even more friends. Hey Vhodka! Hey Betsy! Yo Shawn!

That isn't the type of person I am. You? You've got seventeen Tweets already on the app, scheduled to drop at fifteen minute intervals should you somehow walk away. I don't need that adulation. I don't fucking want it. All I want is for you and I to step into a ring and for you to try to survive long enough to hand your precious little Cup over to the winner of the tournament.

I'll handle the honors since you'll be on your way to the morgue."

Corey points behind him, presumably at where a hospital would be. The camera has moved a little, there's a big open chunk of city down below with many trees. Corey grabs the camera, though, and goes hand-held with it. Holding it from the bottom and speaking literally right into it.

"There will be no respect for you when this is finished. Win, lose, it doesn't matter Page, respect is earned and you've already shown you aren't fit for the honor. Weren't you the guy that was going to do the impossible? Yeah, you were going to take the head of a GOAT and a King on our way to your everlasting vacation. Your bag of skulls is light, Page. Almost like you couldn't come through with the impossible. Almost like you ordered your very own brand of impossible when you put ink to paper.

Almost like trying to kill he who is 'Deathproof.'

In the end, Chris, whatever you take from me will be well worth what I take from you.

Shadow blooms and I know your end is imminent."

Corey steps forward as the rain continues to pound down upon him. He puts his foot up on the ledge and looks down, pointing the camera downward as well at the Velvet Rabbit. Corey is standing high atop the building across the street! The pink spotlights that dance across the clouds are at the front entrance of the Rabbit, where the massacre takes place. He spots the melted crown on the roof of the Rabbit, zooming in on it as he breathes heavy and the rain batters everything in its path. Now from behind the camera, Corey speaks.

"Just remember Chris.. you wanted this."

He grabs the camera and hurls it off the roof in one fell swoop! It spins and twists as it flies through the air and crashes into the roof of the Velvet Rabbit below, shattering into surely thousands of pieces.

At the roof across the street, Corey Black looks on. He foot up on the ledge again, forearms resting on his raised knee. He watches as a limo pulls up, a man dressed in a full suit steps out as the driver tries to scramble over with an umbrella. Two scantily clad women also leave the limo, as they're ushered into the entrance of the building. The driver darts back where he came from, guiding the car out from its parking spot and into the city. Corey turns and watches it, then takes in the view of New York. A city that he is all too familiar with.

He smiles. Walking back toward the door to the building he's on, he opens it and pauses. One last look at the pink lights in the sky, the lanterns that lead the way to debauchery that takes place inside. A place he would never dream of going to. But a fight he wouldn't miss.

Through the rooftop door and closing it behind him is the man formally known as King.

Currently 'just' the best fucking wrestler on this planet.]]> The massive roar of a matte black, early 70s Chevy Nova echoes throughout the landscape as it hits a turn and rockets off at Mach speed. Corn fields, grass fields, tree lines and blacktop road are the only visible things toward the horizon, the sun setting on another day. The car rumbles forward, slowing and taking a quick left turn onto a dirt road, sliding a bit and sending dirt, sand and rock jettisoning backward as the black rimmed back wheels spin.

A quarter mile or so later, the sun's beams have become golden as it begins setting, the black car comes to a slow, then a right turn into a tree lined driveway, and back to a blackened pile of ash. The car stops a few feet from it, as the door opens and Corey Black steps out, he turns the vehicle off. It grumbles and spatters as the engine fades. Corey takes a step or two forward, turns back and grabs a flashlight, anticipating darkness soon.

He cautiously wanders into the ashen pile, surely it used to be a structure as not burned wooden beams jut out of the black mass. He kicks over one, looking underneath, swiping his foot through the soot to check the solid remains.

The sun has set, Corey clicks the flashlight on. He has a water bottle in his pocket, splashing some liquid forward and shining his light upon the wet spots. Another splash, another light shine, moves some remnants around and finally, paydirt.

He struck gold.

Corey kneels down and a toothy grin forms, he grabs the object he was searching for and releases it from its location under yet another wooden beam. It's covered in thick, tar-like soot that Corey washes off. He points his light at it once again, now that it's cleaner, it twinkles. Shimmering, shining melted round piece of nothing. Corey stands up and dusts his pants off, then his shoes, and hurriedly walks back to his car. He gets in, placing the treasure on the seat next to him, quickly tosses his seat belt on and throws the car in gear, spinning a one eighty degree turn and heading off the way he came.

[Image: deathproof.png]

Some time later, with a darkened sky behind him, Corey Black stands with his head down, looking at the ground. A gentle breeze comes by, lifting his hair up ever so slightly, even moving his long beard with it a bit. The angle is set in a way that only sky can be seen behind Corey. He opens his eyes, looking right at the camera. He breathes in deep and the exhales, a sneer makes his nose scrunch.

"I've been called many names in my twenty year career. Hell, I was called many names before my career too. That's a different tragedy for a different supershow.

First was 'The Human Horror Show.' I began my journey in pro wrestling as someone else. Hell, I lived most of my early life as someone else. A specter that haunts me to this day. If I could rewrite history I would, but alas, time moves forward. Under the guise of a mask or face paint and Satanism, I was thrust into the budding hardcore division. I quickly earned the nickname. It carried throughout my formative years, striking fear in the hearts of many that would be unfortunate enough to be tasked with attempting to defeat such a creature.

As the demon was exercised, I sought more. Finally myself, I did what any young man that wants to learn would do, I moved to Japan and wrestled under yet another mask and yet another assumed name. 'The Ghost of Tokyo' I was called, a physical representation of the dark underworld that is said to hold kami, obake, yōkai, yūrei and many more horrible wraiths. I soon felt that home was where I should be, and I returned stateside with a new set of skills to unleash upon poor, unsuspecting souls.

Home wasn't exactly what I remembered it to be. Home wasn't what I knew it to be. I had been lied to, told one series of events led me to where I was when really it was all fiction. So I left. I went somewhere else, I wrestled new people and I had a new name - 'The Avenger.' Comic books were a constant place of happiness for me in my life no matter where I went or who I was. I thought I was someone worth a damn, tackling pickpockets in the street, helping old ladies cross the road. It was ridiculous. It was.. it was me for the first time in my life.

Returning home, I made some friends. Or, rather, I helped some people out in a tag team match and we became the strongest unit in the history of the business. The name Pantheon will still send chills down the spines of those who were there to witness our glory. In the end, I was the last man standing.. I was 'The Pantheon.'

After that shine subsided I was left with the question that has plagued me for nearly my whole life - who am I? I went to find out and as it turns out, my bloodline dates back thousands of years to a settlement of vikings in Norway and Denmark. But I was alone, no clan, no stable of men to do my bidding. I was alone. I was a specialist. I was the best of the best, the one man you'd call upon to eliminate any threat you may have. I was 'The Jomsviking' - disciplined, tested, a proven warrior.

But that wasn't enough. Soon it became evident I stood on hallowed ground. An echelon above the rest. Skill, drive, passion, all exceeding the landscape as a whole by an infinite measure. None could fell anything I wished to do. I took what I wanted, when I wanted. There was nobody to stop me. Nobody had the will, the strength, the resolve to stand across the ring from who was now 'The King of All Wrestlers' and take what was his. From that day on, seven years ago, I wore the crown just so others knew they weren't good enough. Titans, giants, champions, entire stables, entire companies were laid to waste. The King sat upon his throne and laughed. Yet he yearned for more. I wanted to see what was beyond the walls I had been in. To view luscious landscapes and sprawling fields I had just heard about.

At first, I wasn't taken seriously. Why would I be? Some dude over there in the corner of the world calling himself King. A dime a dozen in the entire picture. But I earned those eyes last year. I demanded that the professional wrestling landscape at large turns and kneels. As soon as the ref's hand hit the third time at Evolution last year, whether for better or worse, a name you may not have heard of finally echoed throughout the cosmos and suddenly, in the blink of an eye, I had an entire world coming for my crown.

I left my home to go on a Cruise where I was part of the main event, tagging with people I'd now call friends. I competed in the Roth Invitational, making it all the way to the finals and becoming the only, to my knowledge, person to leave without being pinned nor submitted and not win the whole thing. Denzel Porter came calling, requesting a battle between to of the sickest individuals he could put together and I made Brandon Moore look like Barney the fucking Dinosaur.

All while at my home, I was challenged by some of the best the world has to offer. Until you came knocking, Chris Page. You and your two goons saw fit to toss me out of Havoc, a match that has eluded me for decades and one I was most poised to win. And for what? We were already set to do battle at your show. In your woman's venue. Under your own chosen rule set. What could you possibly have gained from coming into my world and trying to suffocate me?

Were you trying to make sure I wouldn't make it to the Cup? Doing what you do best and interjecting yourself where you don't belong? No, you were coming for the crown. You thought it represented the pinnacle in Action Wrestling. You saw it atop the head of a man that has seen it all, done it all, and continues to mow down opposition and while the company gave you an opportunity to win gold you squandered it. It incensed you. How could the great Chris Page come up empty? Your goal from then on was to make sure the place that was opening its arms to you would no longer have their beacon. Their shining star. Their Horror Show, Ghost, Avenger, Pantheon, Jomsviking.. their King.

But even kings die, Page."

The camera pans upward and back, revealing Corey is standing on a rooftop and holding his former crown which is now nothing more than a melted blob of metal in a circular shape. He is wearing jeans, a black t-shirt and black Chuck Taylor All-Stars. He smiles, knowing full well the intentions he has. He steps forward, over a roof brace and shows the camera what he has done to the symbol the used to stand for.

"I am more than that."

He takes a step back, placing his left foot in front of the other and cradles the object with both hands, quarterback style position. Corey turns left, then right, checking his options before he swings his arm up and back then hurls the golden ring over the edge of the building! Moments pass before it clinks and clangs to a resting place down below. Corey turns his back on the direction he threw the crown, pink lights now casting their glow to the sky from the ground below. They move in unison, two of them, crossing ever so slightly. All while darker and darker clouds have taken a resting place in the heavens above, even covering the moon so its glow is no longer illuminating the rooftop. Corey paces now as he speaks, becoming more animated.

"You saw another place that claims the best, you came knocking and treated us like a third world country because you weren't given the royal treatment right out of the gate, despite the fact that you beat JC Keeton and then expected a James Raven size truckload of bills and adulation. To fight JC Keeton. Then it was a gift for you to grace us with your presence on television. Millions of people watch us on CBS and Paramount+ - check Google - we didn't need or WANT whatever 'boost' you gave us. We're not in some dirty, dingy basement in New York, we're not in a warehouse in Chicago, we don't run limited capacity hockey arenas, your gift didn't mean fuck all. We're in the largest stadiums in the world, the biggest crowds in the world and we already have the over the hill stoner demographic covered with Dandy DiVito, you dipshit mark.

You think you're so goddamn ahead of this curve, you have gone done a ring around the rosie and your pockets are full of fucking rocks. You joined a whole new company just to get deathmatch practice against 'deathmatch wrestler' Corey Black. You owe about half a dozen wrestlers their dignity back because you treated them like back alley bitches, Page. A supposed man of the people with his giant gaggle of minions signed on to his Enterprising glory.

You're looking at a man who has had exactly three deathmatches in the last five years, Page. Yeah, I'm proficient at them. I've got a long history with this brutal form of combat but you, fuck, you walk this Earth thinking it's the only thing I can do. Like you're actually, for real, doing me a favor by opening yourself up to bludgeoning, lacerations and dismemberment. You absolutely are, don't mince my words. This is my chosen wheelhouse, Page, but I'm not some backyard dork rolling around in thumbtacks for six fans on a message board.

Yeah, I can go. But your carny ass doesn't look beyond what sits on Twitter in front of you. You don't see the long legacy I've left, the five star classics I have in my wake, the ladder matches, the chambers, the one on one, man verses man, one pinfall or submission takes it all PROFESSIONAL WRESTLER that stands before you. Japan, Mexico, Canada - I've been everywhere and I have learned everyTHING. You cannot go hold for hold with me, nor can you go blow for blow. You're damn near fifty years old Chris, you'd think how close you are to getting fifteen percent off breakfast at Sizzler would make you look at the world just a little different. But no, you've been this up your own ass melting popsicle stick for as long as you've had people watching you.

So yeah, I'm going to bust some light tubes on your head. I'm going to rake your wrinkled face with barbed wire. I'm going to jump off that balcony but I'm also going to OUT WORK your ass in every sense of the word. Your fingers are in too many pots, Page, you should have had someone actually sit down and explain who you're truly fighting.

You can't even get 'King' taken off your card.

It's people like you that made me drop it. This melted hunk of metal, representing all that was wrong with the industry. You came to me wanting this, Chris. Just this. Not me. Not the man it was resting upon. It's why James came, why Dickie came, why Matty came and why you were knocking at my door, I'm not foolish enough to turn a blind eye and continue the charade. A man who has the confidence and resolve to back up what he was saying, claiming to be the King of All Wrestlers, drives the egotistical jackoffs in as if they're going to liberate everyone and beat that fucking guy.

No liberation here, Page, I already did you the favor. I killed the King of All Wrestlers because men and women like you are plentiful. Blinded by the light glimmering off a fucking nickname. There's so many people out there that claim to be King of this or that, the dilution became evident the second I opened myself up to the world at large. You've seen them, Page, you've surely been involved with many but I'm the guy that made that truly mean something. I'm the one that was called King not out of cockiness or bravado, it was because I was a benevolent ruler. A true larger than life, certified legend, someone the new guys can look at and say 'yeah, that's what I want to be.' More than championships, more than Hall of Fame inductions, something greater than anything you'll ever claim to be, Chris.

Now I'm the man that will drive his elbow through your rotting cranium and pinpoint whatever brain cell you haven't smoked to death, being the first person in what seems like twenty years to get it through your head, by force or by enlightenment, that you're not the top of the mountain, Page.

I am.

I don't need a worthless fucking crown or name to prove it anymore, 'King Slayer.'"

A droplet of rain plummets from the clouds above and lands on Corey's arm. It wets the shirt he is wearing, then another, and more, soon a full on downpour has befell the location Corey is at. He doesn't mind, his hair hangs wet, his beard glistens in the light that is coming from the city below him, with every step he makes he splashes some standing water and as he beats his chest, the damp thud makes him all the more excited. Lighting cracks the sky, his fist rises as it does, a white flash and thunderous boom that would send other scurrying, does nothing but energize Corey Black. He leans in, almost yelling into the lens.

"I'm the guy that would tell you when and where I'd be just so you'd show up and bring your little band of misfit toys with you. You called me stupid for letting it continue to happen. Maybe you're right. But I kept getting up. And I kept announced exactly where I'd be. It took the three of you each and every time. Havoc, XIII, all the Clashes and shows.. man. I thought you knew better. Clearly the only thing on your mind was trying to rip my metaphorical, dumb as fuck crown from my head. Congratulations, that coup you had was what amounts to a training montage. Your best shots, your boldest moves, your boys' actions, all of it, Page. Sit there and think about it for ten seconds, I'll wait."

Corey shifts his weight to the side, checking his wrist where a watch would be. He taps it, brings it to his ear to listen for any ticking. He laughs to himself, drenched but still continuing.

"You can't kill me, Chris Page. No. In order to beat me, you're going to have to make sure this heart no longer beats and you don't have that in you. I've been on the other end of multiple beatings you've given, you and your buddies, and none of it stopped me from getting back up and asking for more. When the odds were even, you left with a bruised ego and a giant L on your record. Me? I left with the satisfaction of knowing even outside my home turf, you're a soft belly bitch.

That's what this is, isn't it? You came to my side of the fence because I was going to yours. It's commendable. Nobody asked for it and nobody gives a shit, although good on ya. How is it going to look when I walk out of the Cannabis Cup with your entrails around my neck and I'm carrying your head? When this is all said and done, whatever remains of your estate will have no choice but to rename this event the 'Corey Black Cup' in disgrace for the man that thought he ruled the world, yet fell short, yet again, to the guy that nobody seemed to believe in.

I'm not going to rub it in anyone's face. In fact, I usually gain respect for the people that test their might against me. Hell, I went on a Cruise with one afterward and made even more friends. Hey Vhodka! Hey Betsy! Yo Shawn!

That isn't the type of person I am. You? You've got seventeen Tweets already on the app, scheduled to drop at fifteen minute intervals should you somehow walk away. I don't need that adulation. I don't fucking want it. All I want is for you and I to step into a ring and for you to try to survive long enough to hand your precious little Cup over to the winner of the tournament.

I'll handle the honors since you'll be on your way to the morgue."

Corey points behind him, presumably at where a hospital would be. The camera has moved a little, there's a big open chunk of city down below with many trees. Corey grabs the camera, though, and goes hand-held with it. Holding it from the bottom and speaking literally right into it.

"There will be no respect for you when this is finished. Win, lose, it doesn't matter Page, respect is earned and you've already shown you aren't fit for the honor. Weren't you the guy that was going to do the impossible? Yeah, you were going to take the head of a GOAT and a King on our way to your everlasting vacation. Your bag of skulls is light, Page. Almost like you couldn't come through with the impossible. Almost like you ordered your very own brand of impossible when you put ink to paper.

Almost like trying to kill he who is 'Deathproof.'

In the end, Chris, whatever you take from me will be well worth what I take from you.

Shadow blooms and I know your end is imminent."

Corey steps forward as the rain continues to pound down upon him. He puts his foot up on the ledge and looks down, pointing the camera downward as well at the Velvet Rabbit. Corey is standing high atop the building across the street! The pink spotlights that dance across the clouds are at the front entrance of the Rabbit, where the massacre takes place. He spots the melted crown on the roof of the Rabbit, zooming in on it as he breathes heavy and the rain batters everything in its path. Now from behind the camera, Corey speaks.

"Just remember Chris.. you wanted this."

He grabs the camera and hurls it off the roof in one fell swoop! It spins and twists as it flies through the air and crashes into the roof of the Velvet Rabbit below, shattering into surely thousands of pieces.

At the roof across the street, Corey Black looks on. He foot up on the ledge again, forearms resting on his raised knee. He watches as a limo pulls up, a man dressed in a full suit steps out as the driver tries to scramble over with an umbrella. Two scantily clad women also leave the limo, as they're ushered into the entrance of the building. The driver darts back where he came from, guiding the car out from its parking spot and into the city. Corey turns and watches it, then takes in the view of New York. A city that he is all too familiar with.

He smiles. Walking back toward the door to the building he's on, he opens it and pauses. One last look at the pink lights in the sky, the lanterns that lead the way to debauchery that takes place inside. A place he would never dream of going to. But a fight he wouldn't miss.

Through the rooftop door and closing it behind him is the man formally known as King.

Currently 'just' the best fucking wrestler on this planet.]]> <![CDATA[A Stratospheric High (Part 2)]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44027 Fri, 08 Jul 2022 18:38:13 -0700 Mark Flynn]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44027 Riiiiiiiiiiing.

Riiiiiiiiiiing.

Riii-.

The phone comes off the hook. Up to Mark Flynn’s furious face.

“WHADDYA WANT?”

“Ooooh, somebody’s grumpy.” The sound of billowing smoke followed by a stoner’s cough.

“Ah… Page.”

“Which is great.” Page adds quickly, reeling back the accusation of maladjustment. “Cuz that’s your brand. Love it.”

Lengthy bong rip. Followed by a cloud of smoke so audible, it almost travels through the phone line into Flynn’s nostrils.

“Just checkin’ in. How’s my favorite client doing?”

…Flynn presses the phone into his chest… He peeks his head around the corner

Kato has NK resting across the hotel room’s couches, pressed together into a makeshift bed.

Which was an odd thing to do, because the hotel was already a double. They had their own bed they could have used.

Kato presses a stethoscope from his bindle against NK’s chest…

“How do you feel, sir? Is your body staving off the… Reefer Madness?”

NK shudders… “I… I feel nothing, Kato! I am numb! My senses deprived! The high is taking me!”

“Sir, remain calm! I believe you’re exhibiting simple paranoia.”

“Yet another symptom of that wacky tobacky, Kato! It’s nearly too late! Soon, I shall have the munchies! My stomach lining already craves Cool Ranch Doritoes!”

NK desperately rubs his throat. “And my esophagus burns for Mountain Dew: Code Red!” NK surges forward and wraps his grubby mitts around Kato’s wrist. “Quick! Give me your smokeless, virgin lungs!”

Kato smacks his commander’s hand in one stroke. NK hisses like a cat, stuffing his struck hand into his mouth.

“SIR! DO NOT TOUCH! I MAY RECEIVE A…” Finger quotes. “CONTACT HIGH.”

Kato reaches into his bindle, retrieving a bottle. He douses his touched wrist with medical alcohol.

Flynn sighs, ducking behind the wall again, pressing the phone to his ear.

“We’ve got a… minor situation.”

“Word. Well, the big press Cannabis Cup junket is in 45 minutes. Sound check’s in 15, sooooooooooooooo… Just bandaid up your problem and get down here.”

Flynn scratches his neck.

“Yeeeeeeeeeeeeah, I dunno if this problem is… band-aid-able.”

“...Flynn, my guy. I hope I don’t need to remind you of the Cannabis Cup entry contract you signed.”

Flynn scoffs. “Of course not. My guy read it forwards-and-backwards.”

“Great. Then, you already know, if you and-or NK skip a promotional event, your spot to compete in the Cannabis Cup is revoked…”

“Whatever.”

“You’ll be penalized $50,000 for contract-breach.”

“Put it on my tab.”

“And your wrestling record will be marked with a loss.”

…

……

Flynn rapidly blinks. His fist tightens around the phone. The buttons on the touchpad bulge outwards…

“...The fuck you just say to me?”

“If you miss the press conference, it’ll count as a forfeit. You’ll have a loss on your record against Diamond Steele.”

…

“Lohan.”

Flynn swiftly punts the wall. A bit of plaster shoots off around his shin, to the floor, as his foot rests in the newly-excavated wall-hole.

“I would NEVER have agreed to that.”

“Double-check your contract, Flynn. And when you’re done being wrong, pop down here for sound check.”

Flynn seethes angrily, spitting venom.

“If there’s a single loophole in this contract, I’ll fucking find it, Page. You’ll be hearing from my attorney, Chrisopher K. Clinton! You FUCK.”

“Clinton? Flynn, ol’ pal…”

A long stoner-y giggle on the other end of the line.

“Who do you think I hired to draft your contract?”

The line snaps dead.

***

11 MINUTES LATER


The ceiling tiles above hang drearily… Dripping slowly… So slowly… That it appears as if they do not move at all.

…Wait, or are they moving?

…No, they’re ceiling tiles. They’re not moving.

Right?

On the floor, NK is lying down, feeling the shag carpet betwixt his fingers.

Kato lies beside him, donning a surgical mask, crossing his hands across his hert to minimize contact with his patient-slash-commander.

“Kato…”

“Yes, sir?”

“What is our purpose in this world?”

“To advance and promote the interests of the North Korean people, sir.”

“...No, not OUR purpose. But our purpose.”

“You said the same thing twice, sir. Just with different emphasis.”

…NK sighs.

“You don’t comprehend it, Kato. Our purpose. The purpose of all people. All humanity. Across all dimensions. All universes. Why IS life? Why ARE we here?”

Kato scratches his nose through his surgical mask, eyebrows scrunched, genuinely considering this riddle.

“I have read in my studies that many wise men have pondered this conundrum, commander.”

“And? What did they find the answer was?”

“The great Greek thinkers, men like Socrates and Plato, speculated at the purpose of life, but found that the answer was unfathomable and personal to each individual.”

“BAH!” NK waves his hand through the air, dismissing the notion. “BALDERDASH! The GREEKS, their thoughts poisoned by WESTERN thought… FEH! The individual is meaningless, Kato. It is only the collective! And the collective must have a purpose together!...Individually! I will prove it to you!”

NK lazily claps, still lying on his back.

“Fetch me my notebook, Kato.”

“...It rests upon your chest, sir.”

…

NK slowly tilts his neck downwards… And sees his jetblack notebook…

Sailing on his beating heart, like a dinghy sailing across choppy waters.

Like the choppy waters the True Korean’s heart sails upon.

“GOD DAMMIT!”

THUD!

…

THUD THUD!

…

The door creaks open, hanging broken off its hinges. Flynn emerges from the bedroom through the crippleddoor, then spins and

THUD

slams it again.

Kato casually sits up, resting backwards, elbows resting on the ground.

“How did your contract review go, Coach Flynn?”

….Deep inhalation.

“It’s ironclad. My attorney fucked me. Drank from both sides of the well.”

Flynn side-eyes his compatriots on the floor.

“Christopher K. Clinton just made my fucking list.”

“Yes, about that.” Kato says, shifting into criss-cross applesauce position. “Why would Christopher Clinton would work against you?”

“Lawyers…. Treacherous scum-sucking rats, Kato. Never forget that.”

“...Yes, true. But, aren’t you and Clinton… *cough*... the… same… PHYSICAL… person?”

…Flynn glares at Kato, eye twitching furiously.

NK, still lying on the floor, extends his arms upward slowly.

“My dear Kato. Aren’t we all the same person? Occupying different bodies?” NK sets his hands on his head, then expands them outwards like he’s blown his own mind.

Flynn snaps his fingers.

“No. And shut up. I’m talking now. Sound check is downstairs. Starts in four minutes.”

Kato nods. “Of course. I shall monitor and observe the commander’s…” Finger quotes. “…TRIP. You handle your contractual obligations.”

Flynn sighs, squeezing his fist angrily. “The contract specifies an appearance from BOTH tag-team champs.”

NK sits-up gasping, the air vacuumed from his lungs.

Eyes wide, astonished, at both his hotelmates.

A shocked Kato crab-walks backwards away from his commander, looking horrified.

“MARK FLYNN! KATO!”

…

“WE! SHOULD START! A BAND!”

***

The hotel door opens.

Flynn emerges in his suit, adjusting his cufflinks.

Then Kato, sporting a surgical mask, but his military outfit looking quite sharp.

…

……


Kato peeks back inside the open door.

“Coming, sir?”

“Naturally, Kato.”

…

……

Flynn steps up and hammers the door frame.

“Clock’s ticking, bud. Let’s move.”

“After you.”

Flynn’s eye twitches.

“NK, we’re out. It’s already AFTER US.”

“...Ah. I have an issue.”

Flynn and Kato peek around the corner.

We see NK dressed in his immaculately stainless, spotless camouflage fatigues.

Standing perfectly still.

“What is the matter, sir? Have you forgotten something?”

“...Yes, I have. Um… How do legs work?”

NK lifts his right knee… His eyes widen with fascination as it lifts into his chest.

He then lowers it back to the floor. He is even more fascinated.

“Wow.”

Flynn’s spitting angry now.

“NK, stop fucking around.”

NK shakes his head… Well, his neck… It actually ends up kinda being his entire torso.

“Yes, of course! Legs must be like bicycles! One never truly forgets how to… DO them!”

NK shifts his weight, extending his right leg into the air.

…

And immediately this shift in his center of balance sends him tumbling backwards onto his ass like a game of QWOP.

“Ah! My legs! My leg-chains are broken!”

Flynn pinches his temples, furiously. He glances at his wrist… Two minutes.

Flynn glances up over his watch at NK, clawing at the air, stuck on his back like a turtle.

“Okay… We need a plan.”

Suddenly, the door opens across the hall. …

“And that’s all your luggage…”

Flynn turns around… The same bellhop that Flynn ‘tipped’ earlier steps outside, rolling a luggage cart in front of him. Stepping out from behind the door… Is a balding little goblin-creature, drenched in his own flop-sweat and dollar store cologne.

XWF’s longest-tenured correspondent without tenure… or medical benefits. Steve Sayors.

He heaves a CVS bag full of Pepto Bismol and DayQuil onto the floor. He exhales heartily, like carrying one grocery bag was an equal feat to the bellhop hauling all his luggage for him.

“I very much appreciate the help. I’d do it myself, but... It’s difficult to develop musculature when you’re born with hollow bones…”

The bellhop nods politely. “Of course, sir.” The blond beefcake extends his hand out, towering over the shrimpy commentator. “Tip?”

…If you thought Sayors was sweaty already, try asking him for money. Like he stepped out of a car-wash-water-park.

Sayors’ hand twitches… he reaches narrowly to the side…

“O-o-oh sure, young man! I have money! I’m a wrestling journalist! And that pays… money! Lemme just… get my wallet… from behind this doorknob…”

Sayors grabs the doorknob, swinging with all his might! Grunting like a Hungarian lady tennis player!

“Hauuuuuuuuur!”

Before the door slams, the bellhop jams the meat of his elbow in its way.

And just as Flynn suggested, it rebounds backwards, flipping and catching Sayors in his nose.

“Oh goooooob! My nobe!” Sayors covers his face, flopping backwards onto the floor.

The bellhop cracks the knuckles of his right hand.

“TIP. SIR.”

He steps firmly into Sayors’ hotel room… And closes the door behind him.

The bellhop Flynn tipped earlier beats the spare change out of Steve Sayors like a nickel-filled piñata.

Leaving that empty luggage cart…

Flynn strokes his chin.

“Welp, I paid some kindness forward.”

Flynn grabs him off the floor by the scruff of his neck.

“Time to cash-in.”

***

The CCPE dressing room.

A booted foot shakily nudges the door open.

“All right, take ‘er in. Whoa, cut left! LEFT!”

Kato desperately clings into the cart’s front, easing it in… Shifting it narrowly to his left.

“LEFT, FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”

Kato exhales, exhaustedly. “Your left or my left, Coach Flynn?”

As the cart edges deeper into the room, we see NK splayed across the whole cart like a beached whale.

“What IS a left, Kato, but three rights? Or seven rights? Or…” NK gasps. “An infinite number of rights… IS an infinite number of lefts… Can’t you both see? …Left IS right!”

“Ignore that shit, Kato. Obviously, I mean MY LEFT.”

The cart finishes crossing through the doorway… Flynn kicks his end inside and slams the door behind him.

Kato exhaustedly drops in a rolling chair in the corner, its wheels gliding him back toward the wall.

Flynn wrings the dust off his hands, walking to the room’s center.

“Phew. Hard part’s over. Now, we just get out there, piss off the crowd, call some journalists fake news, then we roll to fuckin’ Denny’s.”

“Huzzah! The Moons Over My-Hammy shall be ours!”

“Can’t wait. Denny’s is the perfect munchies spot.”

Kato and Flynn spin around… Flynn grimaces.

Peeking his head in the doorway, is of course…

“‘Chronic’ Chris Page.”

“Glad you made it.” Page delivers a thumbs up.

Flynn eyes his agent with palpable detest. Page doesn’t seem to notice.

“Already gave the tech-boys your intro. Just go out there and hit the right notes. Move those PPV buys! Aaaaaaaand, special treat!”

Page reaches behind his back and… Has two little canvas bags.

“SWAG! All talent gets ‘em. Just… uh… find something you like in there and put it on. Helps merch sales!”

Page drops the bags just inside of the door…. And, leaving a literal puff of smoke, he’s gone.

“...How eccentric.”

“Yeah, something about booking shows instead of wrestling in them… Just saps the soul out of your fucking body…”

Flynn walks over and picks up a bag… His hands rifle through its contents… He pulls out a DVD Box Set of Every Cheech & Chong movie, covered by a smiling Chris Page sticker.

He rolls his eyes… tossing the boxed collection of classic stoner humor to the floor.

“All right, NK. Ready to play the hits?”

…

“NK?”

Flynn extends his leg and taps NK’s boot. NK lies across the luggage cart, staring at the ceiling, a saliva pool rapidly filling the corner of his mouth…

Kato leans down and waves a hand in front of the totalitarian’s face.

…His heavily-dilated pupils don’t follow the motion.

"Goodness gracious!” Kato dives forward and presses his ear to NK’s chest.

Flynn’s head tilts, perplexedly.

“Is he dead?”

Kato listens… Bobbing his head.

Flynn grits his teeth. “Fuck… Is that a yes?”

Kato retreats from his commander, just narrowly dodging a drool trail.

“I apologize, I was nodding along to his heartbeat. He lives, but in some… cannabinoid catatonic condition.”

Flynn sighs with an air of relief. “Great.” He returns to disinterestedly picking through the swag bag, retrieving a pair of sunglasses, but the rims are pot leaves. “Well, wake him up. We’ve got a peanut gallery to mock.” Flynn snaps his fingers to get Kato to pick up the pace.

“That is a…no-go.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know how to treat a… cannabis coma.”

“Goddammit, I thought you knew first aid, Kato!”

“NONE OF THIS IS FIRST AID, COACH FLYNN! …I’ve mastered bandaids, tourniquets and neosporin! I can’t fast-forward three weeks worth of marijuana through the commander’s metabolism!”

Flynn exhales.

“Fuck. What time is it?”

Flynn reaches into the swag bag… And finds a watch. It says 4:20pm.

Flynn sighs, relieved… “Phew, at least we’ve got a chance to plan… something.”

“IT’S FIVE O FUCKING CLOCK! THE WRESTLING SHOW OF THE YEAR IS HOURS AWAY! AAAAAAAARE YOOOOOOOOOOOu REEEEEEEEEEEEEADY?”

Flynn squints confused, and checks his wristwatch.

The watch-time flips a minute forward to 5pm.

The swag-watch does not… A message just above the display on the swag-watch… It’s 4:20 somewhere!

“For Fuck’s sake, Page, get a second personality trait...” Flynn groans.

Kato grimaces terrified, cradling his head in his hands. “What shall we do, Mark Flynn?!?”

Flynn grits his teeth, thinking… He squeezes his fists…

And feels…

The potleaf sunglasses.

Flynn looks to the room’s corner. And sees the rolling chair Kato collapsed into…

Then, his eyes fall on the catatonic North Korean.

…

“Okay. Kato.”

Kato snaps to attention.

“You ever see Weekend at Bernie’s?”

***

“And NOW! The 7th (soon-to-be-FIRST) Longest Reigning XWF Tag-Team Champions! The team that beat TNGB FOUR! COUNT ‘EM! FOOOOOOOOOOOOOUR TIMES!”

The spotlights rip across the stage! The drumline rolls! The anticipation builds!

“The duo you’ve been waiting to loudly start hating! Boo your fucking hearts out! For MAAAAAAAAAAAARK FLYNN! AND NORTH KOREAN WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR CRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMINAL!”

The spotlight shines on the stage’s side-curtain!

…

……

“MAAAAARK FLYNN! AND NORTH KOREAN WAAAAAR CRIIIIIIIMINAL!”

A banner drops from the ceiling, reading ‘XWF Tag Champs!’. One trumpet toots a tune.

…

…..

“Mar-“

“SHUT YOUR GODDAMNED INTRO-HOLE, WE’RE HERE!”

The curtain flies open… And Mark Flynn bursts out, pushing a rolling-chair with a potleaf-sunglasses-donning War Criminal in front of him.

Flynn shoves NK’s chair to the press conference table. NK leans backwards against the chair, looking casual and aloof and totally-not-unconscious.

Flynn yanks out the chair beside his tag-team partner and seats himself, retrieving from his collar clip, his own pot-leaf sunglasses.

He eyes them, enjoying one last moment of dignity…

…

Groan.

Then he slips them over his eyes.

“Let’s get this over with. You.” He points down into the pit of journalists.

A blogger sporting square sunglasses and a hairbun stands. “Flynn. As a tag-team wrestler, do you think you’re poorly-suited to go all the way in a singles tournament like the Cannabis Cup?”

Flynn takes a deep breath.

“What’s your name?”

“Todd Rogers, Ain’t Wrestling Cool? News Dot Com News.”

Flynn opens his mouth. Then closes it.

“Checks out. Stupid fucking name, stupid fucking site, stupid fucking question.”

Flynn reaches forward and yanks the mic out of the arrangement of press mics. He tugs it under his nose.

“Anyone that’s done their research knows I’m one of the most dominant wrestlers of all-FUCKING-time.”

“I went from my first XWF Title win in October 2012, to becoming a grand slam champion THREE MONTHS LATER. The FASTEST and ONLY grand slam champ of the Potato Era.”

“Tristan Slater? The next big thing when I debuted? The guy who claimed he was God’s gift to this business? Cut his slam circuit one belt short, because I FUCKING BEAT HIM. Now, ten years later? Slater’s wrestling a curtain-jerking tag match, sidekick to Jonathan Fucking Cable, while I headline the whole fucking show.”

Flynn scans his finger across the room, full of doubters and nay-sayers.

“You think I can’t win this tournament? I won my second world title in a one night go, beating FOUR MEN IN ONE NIGHT. One of whom is now in the god-damned Hall of Legends.”

“I’ve beaten THREE GODDAMNED inductions to the Hall of Legends, TEN former Universal Champions and FOURTEEN of the XWF’s Top 50 of All-Time, including five names higher than mine on that list.”

Flynn spits on the ground.

“The Media likes to pretend I’m the fucking longshot. The fluke. The fucking mistake. It’s been ten motherfucking years and I JUST KEEP WINNING. I’m not the dark horse, kids. I’m the only fucking horse in the race you’ll make money betting on.”

Flynn shoots a finger into the pile of hands.

A clearly bruised and beaten face emerges. “Steve Sayors! XWF News! This next question is for the War Criminal!”

Under the table, Flynn taps his foot against corner of NK’s chair… Just enough to rotate him towards Sayors. Sayors takes that as permission to ask.

“Mister Criminal, If Mark Flynn WASN’T in the Cannabis Cup… Who would be your second pick to win?”

NK flops forward… Just enough that his eyes peek atop of his sunglasses.

Flynn narrowly nudges the chair backwards, pushing NK back against his seat.

“NK won’t dignify that stupid hypothetical with a response. Cuz the answer is NO ONE. If I weren’t in this fucking cup, they’d be wrestling in an empty goddamned arena.”

Sayors sheepishly hides behind his clipboard of questions.

“W-w-well, what about your former stablemate, Corey Smith? Or Dickie Watson? Or one of Them No Good Bastards?”

“Let’s get one thing fucking straight. Thad Duke pitched Genesis to me as a chance to RULE over the fucking wrestling industry. But, it turned into Thad and Corey’s secret clubhouse of bullshit. Corey’s not fucking Superstar of the Month material, let along Superstar of the Industry.”

“Genesis was a team for one match and I carried that team on my back over The Exiles. Corey couldn’t even lead his own squad. He had his chance to take his fucking shot against Alias and climb the mountaintop, but he fucking turned tail, cashed in on my and Thad’s five-star match, then wrestled mediocre meatslabs until his contract expired and he peaced out. Corey is already dead in the water. And if he fails upwards in this tourney like he has his whole career, and ends up against me in the Finals, he’s gonna get run-the-fuck-over.”

“Dickie Watson? Guy wracks up a list of minor league titles and starts calling himself the Greatest-of-All-Time? Motherfucker, I have made my CAREER crushing fucking pretenders. Slater? Vaughn? Madison? Duke? These guys didn’t have trophy rooms, they had trophy mansions. And I fucking came in like a wrecking ball and tore their flimsy altars of self-worship into splinters and ash so everyone could look on their destroyed works and despair. And Dickie Watson wants to come in here with a third of those accomplishments and play dress-up like he’s on my fucking level? The FIGHT champion is in for the fucking fight of his life.”

“And as for Bobby & TK, well…”

SLAM!


The whole room spins away from Flynn. Flynn looks to his left… And sees NK smashing his fists on the press conference table.

“WHO ARE WE?!?”

“Aw fuck, he’s awake…” Flynn mutters under his breath. “And still having an existential crisis…”

Flynn turns back to the press, who are rapidly flashing pictures.

NK smashes his fist against the table.

“WHY ARE WE HERE?!?”

Flynn strokes his chin…

“WHY ARE WE HERE?!?”

Flynn climbs atop his chair.

“WE’RE THE TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!”

“WHY ARE WE HERE?!?”

“WE BEAT THE BASTARDS FOUR FUCKING TIMES!”

“WHY ARE WE HERE?!?”

“WE’RE THE GREATEST GODDAMNED TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS WHO EVER LIVED!!!”

The press audience starts rapidly jotting down notes… The table buckles under the force of NK’s manic forearm smashes.

“WHAT IS RIGHT?!?”

“THAT WE TAKE TK’S X-TREME TITLE!”

“WHAT IS RIGHT?!?”

“THAT WE TAKE THE CROWN OFF BOBBY’S HEAD!”

“WHAT IS RIGHT?!?”

“THAT WE TAKE OVER THE INDUSTRY!”

“WHAT IS RIGHT?!?”

“THAT WE TAKE OVER THE WOOOOOOOOOOORLD!”

The press is on their feet, snapping pictures and calling out questions! It’s a rapidly whirring mass of energy and enthusiasm.

“WHAT TIME IS IT?!?”

Flynn hops down from the chair. “IT’S OUR FUCKING TIME!”

“WHAT TIME IS IT?!?”

Flynn walks up to the press conference table… “IT’S OUR…” He plants a boot on the rim. “FUCKING…” He kicks it! “TIIIIIIIIIME!”

The table turns over and flops into the first row! The room is a chaotic frenzy of people screaming and hollering.

Flynn pushes the mic into face.

“ONE OF YOU FUCKS TRY TO FOLLOW THAT SHIT!”

He drops the mic onto the stage… Then pushes down a War Criminal who has no idea where he is or where the table he was hitting went… And walks the rolling chair back off-stage.

***

The crowd is still in a fucking fever pitch.

Chris Page, standing just inside the tag-champs’ dressing room, is feeling his fucking phone fill up with notifications. The Twittersphere is a-fucking-buzz.

The rolling chair clears the curtain as NK and Flynn roll beside Page.

Page pockets his phone and slaps Flynn on the back.

“Well, that’ll put some asses in the seats. Officially, I wouldn’t change a thing. Unofficially, we’re gonna have to negotiate later who’s covering the damage to that press table.”

Flynn looks up at Page irritated. “We had to make fuckin’ do. Wouldn’t have had to break stuff if you hadn’t sent a metric fuckton of edibles to our room.”

Page’s right eyebrow slings upwards. “Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?”

“The snack tray you sent. At 4:20pm? NK started eating sweets like a fucking dog in a room with low-hanging chocolate. Sent himself on a fucking space expedition.”

Page chuckles, patting Flynn’s shoulder.

“Flynn, my guy… Those were non-cannaboid edibles. From O’Dweeds.”

[Image: aCajYRS.jpg]
This promo is brought to you by O’Dweeds

“...What?”

“You’re clean-livin’. Why would send my sober client edibles?”

…Flynn looks at NK. Who upon hearing this news, is patting his chest.

“Hmm… now that you mention it. Perhaps my euphoria, lack of self-awareness and comatose-paralysis were… all psychosomatic.”

…

……

Flynn smacks NK in the back of the head.

“You goddamn idiot! I did a Weekend at Bernie’s routine and YOU WEREN’T EVEN HIGH!”

NK desperately shields his neck and head.

“Mark Flynn! The O’Dweeds product line perfectly simulates the taste and flavor of cannabinoids! My mind merely went to the next logical place!”

Flynn hammers him with furious backhanded smacks, until NK has flopped tothe floor in the fetal position.

Page slips the door open a peek… Journalists charge up the ramp, gathering outside of their dressing room… chasing the story of the XWF Tag Champs declaring war on the wrestling world.

“Fellas, your stock just hit… A stratospheric high.”


wordcounter.com_word_count:3998]]> Riiiiiiiiiiing.

Riiiiiiiiiiing.

Riii-.

The phone comes off the hook. Up to Mark Flynn’s furious face.

“WHADDYA WANT?”

“Ooooh, somebody’s grumpy.” The sound of billowing smoke followed by a stoner’s cough.

“Ah… Page.”

“Which is great.” Page adds quickly, reeling back the accusation of maladjustment. “Cuz that’s your brand. Love it.”

Lengthy bong rip. Followed by a cloud of smoke so audible, it almost travels through the phone line into Flynn’s nostrils.

“Just checkin’ in. How’s my favorite client doing?”

…Flynn presses the phone into his chest… He peeks his head around the corner

Kato has NK resting across the hotel room’s couches, pressed together into a makeshift bed.

Which was an odd thing to do, because the hotel was already a double. They had their own bed they could have used.

Kato presses a stethoscope from his bindle against NK’s chest…

“How do you feel, sir? Is your body staving off the… Reefer Madness?”

NK shudders… “I… I feel nothing, Kato! I am numb! My senses deprived! The high is taking me!”

“Sir, remain calm! I believe you’re exhibiting simple paranoia.”

“Yet another symptom of that wacky tobacky, Kato! It’s nearly too late! Soon, I shall have the munchies! My stomach lining already craves Cool Ranch Doritoes!”

NK desperately rubs his throat. “And my esophagus burns for Mountain Dew: Code Red!” NK surges forward and wraps his grubby mitts around Kato’s wrist. “Quick! Give me your smokeless, virgin lungs!”

Kato smacks his commander’s hand in one stroke. NK hisses like a cat, stuffing his struck hand into his mouth.

“SIR! DO NOT TOUCH! I MAY RECEIVE A…” Finger quotes. “CONTACT HIGH.”

Kato reaches into his bindle, retrieving a bottle. He douses his touched wrist with medical alcohol.

Flynn sighs, ducking behind the wall again, pressing the phone to his ear.

“We’ve got a… minor situation.”

“Word. Well, the big press Cannabis Cup junket is in 45 minutes. Sound check’s in 15, sooooooooooooooo… Just bandaid up your problem and get down here.”

Flynn scratches his neck.

“Yeeeeeeeeeeeeah, I dunno if this problem is… band-aid-able.”

“...Flynn, my guy. I hope I don’t need to remind you of the Cannabis Cup entry contract you signed.”

Flynn scoffs. “Of course not. My guy read it forwards-and-backwards.”

“Great. Then, you already know, if you and-or NK skip a promotional event, your spot to compete in the Cannabis Cup is revoked…”

“Whatever.”

“You’ll be penalized $50,000 for contract-breach.”

“Put it on my tab.”

“And your wrestling record will be marked with a loss.”

…

……

Flynn rapidly blinks. His fist tightens around the phone. The buttons on the touchpad bulge outwards…

“...The fuck you just say to me?”

“If you miss the press conference, it’ll count as a forfeit. You’ll have a loss on your record against Diamond Steele.”

…

“Lohan.”

Flynn swiftly punts the wall. A bit of plaster shoots off around his shin, to the floor, as his foot rests in the newly-excavated wall-hole.

“I would NEVER have agreed to that.”

“Double-check your contract, Flynn. And when you’re done being wrong, pop down here for sound check.”

Flynn seethes angrily, spitting venom.

“If there’s a single loophole in this contract, I’ll fucking find it, Page. You’ll be hearing from my attorney, Chrisopher K. Clinton! You FUCK.”

“Clinton? Flynn, ol’ pal…”

A long stoner-y giggle on the other end of the line.

“Who do you think I hired to draft your contract?”

The line snaps dead.

***

11 MINUTES LATER


The ceiling tiles above hang drearily… Dripping slowly… So slowly… That it appears as if they do not move at all.

…Wait, or are they moving?

…No, they’re ceiling tiles. They’re not moving.

Right?

On the floor, NK is lying down, feeling the shag carpet betwixt his fingers.

Kato lies beside him, donning a surgical mask, crossing his hands across his hert to minimize contact with his patient-slash-commander.

“Kato…”

“Yes, sir?”

“What is our purpose in this world?”

“To advance and promote the interests of the North Korean people, sir.”

“...No, not OUR purpose. But our purpose.”

“You said the same thing twice, sir. Just with different emphasis.”

…NK sighs.

“You don’t comprehend it, Kato. Our purpose. The purpose of all people. All humanity. Across all dimensions. All universes. Why IS life? Why ARE we here?”

Kato scratches his nose through his surgical mask, eyebrows scrunched, genuinely considering this riddle.

“I have read in my studies that many wise men have pondered this conundrum, commander.”

“And? What did they find the answer was?”

“The great Greek thinkers, men like Socrates and Plato, speculated at the purpose of life, but found that the answer was unfathomable and personal to each individual.”

“BAH!” NK waves his hand through the air, dismissing the notion. “BALDERDASH! The GREEKS, their thoughts poisoned by WESTERN thought… FEH! The individual is meaningless, Kato. It is only the collective! And the collective must have a purpose together!...Individually! I will prove it to you!”

NK lazily claps, still lying on his back.

“Fetch me my notebook, Kato.”

“...It rests upon your chest, sir.”

…

NK slowly tilts his neck downwards… And sees his jetblack notebook…

Sailing on his beating heart, like a dinghy sailing across choppy waters.

Like the choppy waters the True Korean’s heart sails upon.

“GOD DAMMIT!”

THUD!

…

THUD THUD!

…

The door creaks open, hanging broken off its hinges. Flynn emerges from the bedroom through the crippleddoor, then spins and

THUD

slams it again.

Kato casually sits up, resting backwards, elbows resting on the ground.

“How did your contract review go, Coach Flynn?”

….Deep inhalation.

“It’s ironclad. My attorney fucked me. Drank from both sides of the well.”

Flynn side-eyes his compatriots on the floor.

“Christopher K. Clinton just made my fucking list.”

“Yes, about that.” Kato says, shifting into criss-cross applesauce position. “Why would Christopher Clinton would work against you?”

“Lawyers…. Treacherous scum-sucking rats, Kato. Never forget that.”

“...Yes, true. But, aren’t you and Clinton… *cough*... the… same… PHYSICAL… person?”

…Flynn glares at Kato, eye twitching furiously.

NK, still lying on the floor, extends his arms upward slowly.

“My dear Kato. Aren’t we all the same person? Occupying different bodies?” NK sets his hands on his head, then expands them outwards like he’s blown his own mind.

Flynn snaps his fingers.

“No. And shut up. I’m talking now. Sound check is downstairs. Starts in four minutes.”

Kato nods. “Of course. I shall monitor and observe the commander’s…” Finger quotes. “…TRIP. You handle your contractual obligations.”

Flynn sighs, squeezing his fist angrily. “The contract specifies an appearance from BOTH tag-team champs.”

NK sits-up gasping, the air vacuumed from his lungs.

Eyes wide, astonished, at both his hotelmates.

A shocked Kato crab-walks backwards away from his commander, looking horrified.

“MARK FLYNN! KATO!”

…

“WE! SHOULD START! A BAND!”

***

The hotel door opens.

Flynn emerges in his suit, adjusting his cufflinks.

Then Kato, sporting a surgical mask, but his military outfit looking quite sharp.

…

……


Kato peeks back inside the open door.

“Coming, sir?”

“Naturally, Kato.”

…

……

Flynn steps up and hammers the door frame.

“Clock’s ticking, bud. Let’s move.”

“After you.”

Flynn’s eye twitches.

“NK, we’re out. It’s already AFTER US.”

“...Ah. I have an issue.”

Flynn and Kato peek around the corner.

We see NK dressed in his immaculately stainless, spotless camouflage fatigues.

Standing perfectly still.

“What is the matter, sir? Have you forgotten something?”

“...Yes, I have. Um… How do legs work?”

NK lifts his right knee… His eyes widen with fascination as it lifts into his chest.

He then lowers it back to the floor. He is even more fascinated.

“Wow.”

Flynn’s spitting angry now.

“NK, stop fucking around.”

NK shakes his head… Well, his neck… It actually ends up kinda being his entire torso.

“Yes, of course! Legs must be like bicycles! One never truly forgets how to… DO them!”

NK shifts his weight, extending his right leg into the air.

…

And immediately this shift in his center of balance sends him tumbling backwards onto his ass like a game of QWOP.

“Ah! My legs! My leg-chains are broken!”

Flynn pinches his temples, furiously. He glances at his wrist… Two minutes.

Flynn glances up over his watch at NK, clawing at the air, stuck on his back like a turtle.

“Okay… We need a plan.”

Suddenly, the door opens across the hall. …

“And that’s all your luggage…”

Flynn turns around… The same bellhop that Flynn ‘tipped’ earlier steps outside, rolling a luggage cart in front of him. Stepping out from behind the door… Is a balding little goblin-creature, drenched in his own flop-sweat and dollar store cologne.

XWF’s longest-tenured correspondent without tenure… or medical benefits. Steve Sayors.

He heaves a CVS bag full of Pepto Bismol and DayQuil onto the floor. He exhales heartily, like carrying one grocery bag was an equal feat to the bellhop hauling all his luggage for him.

“I very much appreciate the help. I’d do it myself, but... It’s difficult to develop musculature when you’re born with hollow bones…”

The bellhop nods politely. “Of course, sir.” The blond beefcake extends his hand out, towering over the shrimpy commentator. “Tip?”

…If you thought Sayors was sweaty already, try asking him for money. Like he stepped out of a car-wash-water-park.

Sayors’ hand twitches… he reaches narrowly to the side…

“O-o-oh sure, young man! I have money! I’m a wrestling journalist! And that pays… money! Lemme just… get my wallet… from behind this doorknob…”

Sayors grabs the doorknob, swinging with all his might! Grunting like a Hungarian lady tennis player!

“Hauuuuuuuuur!”

Before the door slams, the bellhop jams the meat of his elbow in its way.

And just as Flynn suggested, it rebounds backwards, flipping and catching Sayors in his nose.

“Oh goooooob! My nobe!” Sayors covers his face, flopping backwards onto the floor.

The bellhop cracks the knuckles of his right hand.

“TIP. SIR.”

He steps firmly into Sayors’ hotel room… And closes the door behind him.

The bellhop Flynn tipped earlier beats the spare change out of Steve Sayors like a nickel-filled piñata.

Leaving that empty luggage cart…

Flynn strokes his chin.

“Welp, I paid some kindness forward.”

Flynn grabs him off the floor by the scruff of his neck.

“Time to cash-in.”

***

The CCPE dressing room.

A booted foot shakily nudges the door open.

“All right, take ‘er in. Whoa, cut left! LEFT!”

Kato desperately clings into the cart’s front, easing it in… Shifting it narrowly to his left.

“LEFT, FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”

Kato exhales, exhaustedly. “Your left or my left, Coach Flynn?”

As the cart edges deeper into the room, we see NK splayed across the whole cart like a beached whale.

“What IS a left, Kato, but three rights? Or seven rights? Or…” NK gasps. “An infinite number of rights… IS an infinite number of lefts… Can’t you both see? …Left IS right!”

“Ignore that shit, Kato. Obviously, I mean MY LEFT.”

The cart finishes crossing through the doorway… Flynn kicks his end inside and slams the door behind him.

Kato exhaustedly drops in a rolling chair in the corner, its wheels gliding him back toward the wall.

Flynn wrings the dust off his hands, walking to the room’s center.

“Phew. Hard part’s over. Now, we just get out there, piss off the crowd, call some journalists fake news, then we roll to fuckin’ Denny’s.”

“Huzzah! The Moons Over My-Hammy shall be ours!”

“Can’t wait. Denny’s is the perfect munchies spot.”

Kato and Flynn spin around… Flynn grimaces.

Peeking his head in the doorway, is of course…

“‘Chronic’ Chris Page.”

“Glad you made it.” Page delivers a thumbs up.

Flynn eyes his agent with palpable detest. Page doesn’t seem to notice.

“Already gave the tech-boys your intro. Just go out there and hit the right notes. Move those PPV buys! Aaaaaaaand, special treat!”

Page reaches behind his back and… Has two little canvas bags.

“SWAG! All talent gets ‘em. Just… uh… find something you like in there and put it on. Helps merch sales!”

Page drops the bags just inside of the door…. And, leaving a literal puff of smoke, he’s gone.

“...How eccentric.”

“Yeah, something about booking shows instead of wrestling in them… Just saps the soul out of your fucking body…”

Flynn walks over and picks up a bag… His hands rifle through its contents… He pulls out a DVD Box Set of Every Cheech & Chong movie, covered by a smiling Chris Page sticker.

He rolls his eyes… tossing the boxed collection of classic stoner humor to the floor.

“All right, NK. Ready to play the hits?”

…

“NK?”

Flynn extends his leg and taps NK’s boot. NK lies across the luggage cart, staring at the ceiling, a saliva pool rapidly filling the corner of his mouth…

Kato leans down and waves a hand in front of the totalitarian’s face.

…His heavily-dilated pupils don’t follow the motion.

"Goodness gracious!” Kato dives forward and presses his ear to NK’s chest.

Flynn’s head tilts, perplexedly.

“Is he dead?”

Kato listens… Bobbing his head.

Flynn grits his teeth. “Fuck… Is that a yes?”

Kato retreats from his commander, just narrowly dodging a drool trail.

“I apologize, I was nodding along to his heartbeat. He lives, but in some… cannabinoid catatonic condition.”

Flynn sighs with an air of relief. “Great.” He returns to disinterestedly picking through the swag bag, retrieving a pair of sunglasses, but the rims are pot leaves. “Well, wake him up. We’ve got a peanut gallery to mock.” Flynn snaps his fingers to get Kato to pick up the pace.

“That is a…no-go.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know how to treat a… cannabis coma.”

“Goddammit, I thought you knew first aid, Kato!”

“NONE OF THIS IS FIRST AID, COACH FLYNN! …I’ve mastered bandaids, tourniquets and neosporin! I can’t fast-forward three weeks worth of marijuana through the commander’s metabolism!”

Flynn exhales.

“Fuck. What time is it?”

Flynn reaches into the swag bag… And finds a watch. It says 4:20pm.

Flynn sighs, relieved… “Phew, at least we’ve got a chance to plan… something.”

“IT’S FIVE O FUCKING CLOCK! THE WRESTLING SHOW OF THE YEAR IS HOURS AWAY! AAAAAAAARE YOOOOOOOOOOOu REEEEEEEEEEEEEADY?”

Flynn squints confused, and checks his wristwatch.

The watch-time flips a minute forward to 5pm.

The swag-watch does not… A message just above the display on the swag-watch… It’s 4:20 somewhere!

“For Fuck’s sake, Page, get a second personality trait...” Flynn groans.

Kato grimaces terrified, cradling his head in his hands. “What shall we do, Mark Flynn?!?”

Flynn grits his teeth, thinking… He squeezes his fists…

And feels…

The potleaf sunglasses.

Flynn looks to the room’s corner. And sees the rolling chair Kato collapsed into…

Then, his eyes fall on the catatonic North Korean.

…

“Okay. Kato.”

Kato snaps to attention.

“You ever see Weekend at Bernie’s?”

***

“And NOW! The 7th (soon-to-be-FIRST) Longest Reigning XWF Tag-Team Champions! The team that beat TNGB FOUR! COUNT ‘EM! FOOOOOOOOOOOOOUR TIMES!”

The spotlights rip across the stage! The drumline rolls! The anticipation builds!

“The duo you’ve been waiting to loudly start hating! Boo your fucking hearts out! For MAAAAAAAAAAAARK FLYNN! AND NORTH KOREAN WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR CRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMINAL!”

The spotlight shines on the stage’s side-curtain!

…

……

“MAAAAARK FLYNN! AND NORTH KOREAN WAAAAAR CRIIIIIIIMINAL!”

A banner drops from the ceiling, reading ‘XWF Tag Champs!’. One trumpet toots a tune.

…

…..

“Mar-“

“SHUT YOUR GODDAMNED INTRO-HOLE, WE’RE HERE!”

The curtain flies open… And Mark Flynn bursts out, pushing a rolling-chair with a potleaf-sunglasses-donning War Criminal in front of him.

Flynn shoves NK’s chair to the press conference table. NK leans backwards against the chair, looking casual and aloof and totally-not-unconscious.

Flynn yanks out the chair beside his tag-team partner and seats himself, retrieving from his collar clip, his own pot-leaf sunglasses.

He eyes them, enjoying one last moment of dignity…

…

Groan.

Then he slips them over his eyes.

“Let’s get this over with. You.” He points down into the pit of journalists.

A blogger sporting square sunglasses and a hairbun stands. “Flynn. As a tag-team wrestler, do you think you’re poorly-suited to go all the way in a singles tournament like the Cannabis Cup?”

Flynn takes a deep breath.

“What’s your name?”

“Todd Rogers, Ain’t Wrestling Cool? News Dot Com News.”

Flynn opens his mouth. Then closes it.

“Checks out. Stupid fucking name, stupid fucking site, stupid fucking question.”

Flynn reaches forward and yanks the mic out of the arrangement of press mics. He tugs it under his nose.

“Anyone that’s done their research knows I’m one of the most dominant wrestlers of all-FUCKING-time.”

“I went from my first XWF Title win in October 2012, to becoming a grand slam champion THREE MONTHS LATER. The FASTEST and ONLY grand slam champ of the Potato Era.”

“Tristan Slater? The next big thing when I debuted? The guy who claimed he was God’s gift to this business? Cut his slam circuit one belt short, because I FUCKING BEAT HIM. Now, ten years later? Slater’s wrestling a curtain-jerking tag match, sidekick to Jonathan Fucking Cable, while I headline the whole fucking show.”

Flynn scans his finger across the room, full of doubters and nay-sayers.

“You think I can’t win this tournament? I won my second world title in a one night go, beating FOUR MEN IN ONE NIGHT. One of whom is now in the god-damned Hall of Legends.”

“I’ve beaten THREE GODDAMNED inductions to the Hall of Legends, TEN former Universal Champions and FOURTEEN of the XWF’s Top 50 of All-Time, including five names higher than mine on that list.”

Flynn spits on the ground.

“The Media likes to pretend I’m the fucking longshot. The fluke. The fucking mistake. It’s been ten motherfucking years and I JUST KEEP WINNING. I’m not the dark horse, kids. I’m the only fucking horse in the race you’ll make money betting on.”

Flynn shoots a finger into the pile of hands.

A clearly bruised and beaten face emerges. “Steve Sayors! XWF News! This next question is for the War Criminal!”

Under the table, Flynn taps his foot against corner of NK’s chair… Just enough to rotate him towards Sayors. Sayors takes that as permission to ask.

“Mister Criminal, If Mark Flynn WASN’T in the Cannabis Cup… Who would be your second pick to win?”

NK flops forward… Just enough that his eyes peek atop of his sunglasses.

Flynn narrowly nudges the chair backwards, pushing NK back against his seat.

“NK won’t dignify that stupid hypothetical with a response. Cuz the answer is NO ONE. If I weren’t in this fucking cup, they’d be wrestling in an empty goddamned arena.”

Sayors sheepishly hides behind his clipboard of questions.

“W-w-well, what about your former stablemate, Corey Smith? Or Dickie Watson? Or one of Them No Good Bastards?”

“Let’s get one thing fucking straight. Thad Duke pitched Genesis to me as a chance to RULE over the fucking wrestling industry. But, it turned into Thad and Corey’s secret clubhouse of bullshit. Corey’s not fucking Superstar of the Month material, let along Superstar of the Industry.”

“Genesis was a team for one match and I carried that team on my back over The Exiles. Corey couldn’t even lead his own squad. He had his chance to take his fucking shot against Alias and climb the mountaintop, but he fucking turned tail, cashed in on my and Thad’s five-star match, then wrestled mediocre meatslabs until his contract expired and he peaced out. Corey is already dead in the water. And if he fails upwards in this tourney like he has his whole career, and ends up against me in the Finals, he’s gonna get run-the-fuck-over.”

“Dickie Watson? Guy wracks up a list of minor league titles and starts calling himself the Greatest-of-All-Time? Motherfucker, I have made my CAREER crushing fucking pretenders. Slater? Vaughn? Madison? Duke? These guys didn’t have trophy rooms, they had trophy mansions. And I fucking came in like a wrecking ball and tore their flimsy altars of self-worship into splinters and ash so everyone could look on their destroyed works and despair. And Dickie Watson wants to come in here with a third of those accomplishments and play dress-up like he’s on my fucking level? The FIGHT champion is in for the fucking fight of his life.”

“And as for Bobby & TK, well…”

SLAM!


The whole room spins away from Flynn. Flynn looks to his left… And sees NK smashing his fists on the press conference table.

“WHO ARE WE?!?”

“Aw fuck, he’s awake…” Flynn mutters under his breath. “And still having an existential crisis…”

Flynn turns back to the press, who are rapidly flashing pictures.

NK smashes his fist against the table.

“WHY ARE WE HERE?!?”

Flynn strokes his chin…

“WHY ARE WE HERE?!?”

Flynn climbs atop his chair.

“WE’RE THE TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!”

“WHY ARE WE HERE?!?”

“WE BEAT THE BASTARDS FOUR FUCKING TIMES!”

“WHY ARE WE HERE?!?”

“WE’RE THE GREATEST GODDAMNED TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS WHO EVER LIVED!!!”

The press audience starts rapidly jotting down notes… The table buckles under the force of NK’s manic forearm smashes.

“WHAT IS RIGHT?!?”

“THAT WE TAKE TK’S X-TREME TITLE!”

“WHAT IS RIGHT?!?”

“THAT WE TAKE THE CROWN OFF BOBBY’S HEAD!”

“WHAT IS RIGHT?!?”

“THAT WE TAKE OVER THE INDUSTRY!”

“WHAT IS RIGHT?!?”

“THAT WE TAKE OVER THE WOOOOOOOOOOORLD!”

The press is on their feet, snapping pictures and calling out questions! It’s a rapidly whirring mass of energy and enthusiasm.

“WHAT TIME IS IT?!?”

Flynn hops down from the chair. “IT’S OUR FUCKING TIME!”

“WHAT TIME IS IT?!?”

Flynn walks up to the press conference table… “IT’S OUR…” He plants a boot on the rim. “FUCKING…” He kicks it! “TIIIIIIIIIME!”

The table turns over and flops into the first row! The room is a chaotic frenzy of people screaming and hollering.

Flynn pushes the mic into face.

“ONE OF YOU FUCKS TRY TO FOLLOW THAT SHIT!”

He drops the mic onto the stage… Then pushes down a War Criminal who has no idea where he is or where the table he was hitting went… And walks the rolling chair back off-stage.

***

The crowd is still in a fucking fever pitch.

Chris Page, standing just inside the tag-champs’ dressing room, is feeling his fucking phone fill up with notifications. The Twittersphere is a-fucking-buzz.

The rolling chair clears the curtain as NK and Flynn roll beside Page.

Page pockets his phone and slaps Flynn on the back.

“Well, that’ll put some asses in the seats. Officially, I wouldn’t change a thing. Unofficially, we’re gonna have to negotiate later who’s covering the damage to that press table.”

Flynn looks up at Page irritated. “We had to make fuckin’ do. Wouldn’t have had to break stuff if you hadn’t sent a metric fuckton of edibles to our room.”

Page’s right eyebrow slings upwards. “Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?”

“The snack tray you sent. At 4:20pm? NK started eating sweets like a fucking dog in a room with low-hanging chocolate. Sent himself on a fucking space expedition.”

Page chuckles, patting Flynn’s shoulder.

“Flynn, my guy… Those were non-cannaboid edibles. From O’Dweeds.”

[Image: aCajYRS.jpg]
This promo is brought to you by O’Dweeds

“...What?”

“You’re clean-livin’. Why would send my sober client edibles?”

…Flynn looks at NK. Who upon hearing this news, is patting his chest.

“Hmm… now that you mention it. Perhaps my euphoria, lack of self-awareness and comatose-paralysis were… all psychosomatic.”

…

……

Flynn smacks NK in the back of the head.

“You goddamn idiot! I did a Weekend at Bernie’s routine and YOU WEREN’T EVEN HIGH!”

NK desperately shields his neck and head.

“Mark Flynn! The O’Dweeds product line perfectly simulates the taste and flavor of cannabinoids! My mind merely went to the next logical place!”

Flynn hammers him with furious backhanded smacks, until NK has flopped tothe floor in the fetal position.

Page slips the door open a peek… Journalists charge up the ramp, gathering outside of their dressing room… chasing the story of the XWF Tag Champs declaring war on the wrestling world.

“Fellas, your stock just hit… A stratospheric high.”


wordcounter.com_word_count:3998]]> <![CDATA[A Dreamer's Guide to Better (S)ex]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44026 Fri, 08 Jul 2022 18:08:36 -0700 Lissie Hope]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44026 A Dreamer's Guide to Better Sex | 1 of 2
By: Addy A




A Dreamer's Guide to Better (S)ex | 2 of 2
By: Lissie Hope


[Image: MOSHED-2022-7-8-20-6-50.gif]]]> A Dreamer's Guide to Better Sex | 1 of 2
By: Addy A




A Dreamer's Guide to Better (S)ex | 2 of 2
By: Lissie Hope


[Image: MOSHED-2022-7-8-20-6-50.gif]]]> <![CDATA[Journey to the Heart of Cannabis pt. 2]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44025 Fri, 08 Jul 2022 17:44:58 -0700 Corey Smith]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44025
Ah…shit! What the…?

Corey writhed and twisted as he was enfolded by hanging shirts. He could hear hangers clattering to the floor as he manuevered. Then, sticking out his hands, he was drawn to a sliver of light. His fingers went towards the light, finding purchase on the edge of a sliding door. Corey opened it and….

Huh?

He had stepped out of a closet and was in a modest bedroom. An antique dresser to his left, a papasan chair to his right laden with folded laundry. Just ahead was a bed, and further still a series of bookshelves filled to the brim with action figures and collectibles.

Oh, and a man sitting on the bed reading a graphic novel.

Oh…uh….hey. Sorry….I….Corey kicked away a stray hanger that had found it’s way around the toe of his shoe.

No problem, Corey! I was looking forward to meeting you. The man said. He was slightly stocky, his hair shaved into a fine buzz with a well kept beard hanging just below it. Somehow, the buzz cut made the green in his eyes pop.

Corey blinked rapidly and lilted back in surprise. You know me?

The man sat up, tossing the graphic novel aside, and swung his feet to the floor. Of course. I created you. He extends a hand. My name is Jason.

Wait…wha-what? Corey ran a hand down his face in consternation. I’m still high. Just ride out the trip and hope it ends soon. Corey stepped in a shook the man’s hand. Hey, I’m, uh, oh, you already know…my name…

Come on into the dining room, I’ll get you something to drink. Nonalcoholic, of course.

Corey followed Jason into the adjoining room. A dining room table was there, beneath a tasteful chandelier. The far side of the table was littered with sorted mail. Jason gestured to the mail. Sorry about the mess.

It’s no problem. Corey pulled out a chair and sat, eyes lingering on the light brown woodwork in front of him before turning to look at Jason as he opened the fridge. It was very much a bachelor’s store, with little in the fridge but beverages and some bagged half eaten Chinese food.

Guess I need to go shopping. Turns out it’s Bubly Sparkling Water or Bubly Sparkling Water?

Corey smiled. I’ll have a Bubly.

Jason tossed him one and sat down at the table across from him. As this occurred, it struck Corey how mundane all of this seemed. A far cry from the unfettered strangeness of before. Jason cracked open his can and Corey followed suit. He took a sip, remembering that Bubly tasted like flat ass, but swallowed respectfully. So what did you mean by “you made me”?

Yeah…hooo boy. This is gonna be tough on you. I’m sorry for that. Honestly. Jason’s expression became less muted and more sorrowful. Whatever he was about to say featured very real pangs of guilt. You’re a character I created to participate in a fantasy wrestling game on the internet.

Corey cocked his head. The individual words were familiar but their comportment was not. Ultimately, all he could do was laugh. You’re a funny guy. Cool toys too.

Yeah, it’a a miracle I ever get laid. Despite the joke, he remained serious. Look, Corey, I don’t expect this to be easy at all. But I need to talk to you and to do that I need to level with you about where you come from.

Corey chuckled again. I’m never smoking weed again.

No, you won’t. Because that’s not how I’ll write you. Again, with a steadfast seriousness.

Corey leaned in, now slightly piqued. Look man, you’re just a hallucination I’m going to be sleeping off in a few hours. So could we maybe punch it up a bit? Maybe fly to Jupiter and have a Dragonball Z style throwdown with Chris Page? Or ride a rainbow to a pot of gold that turns out to be a Mimic that tries to eat me?

Did you even know what a Mimic was until right now?

Huh? I…Corey realized he had no idea what a Mimic was until just then.

Yeah, its a monster from Dungeons and Dragons. I know that because I’m a huge dork. And now you know that because I created you. I’m STILL creating you.

Okay, okay, fine, if you’re some omnipotent creator, tell me how things are going to go for me at the Cannabis Cup.

Jason shook his head. I’m not omnipotent, but I’m going to try like hell to make sure you win. But’s it’s not going to be easy.

Damn, but this is a consistent delusion! You haven’t even grown an extra eye or started speaking in tongues or anything. Corey throws his hands out. This all looks like a real house!

Would you just listen! Jason’s declaration bordered on scolding.

Corey softened. Well, I suppose if you’re my creator I have no choice.

The “creator” looked a trifle taken aback. I guess…I guess you don’t. Huh. A pause. Look, I’m sorry for all of this. And like I said, I know this must be difficult. But I had to talk to you before I had you ride off into the sunset. Another pause. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.

You’re sorry? Sorry for what?

Jason folded his hands in front of him, looking pained. I’ve put you through a lot. The life I’ve written for you has been nothing short of hellish. And you didn’t deserve that.

Corey, still humoring this “Jason”, replied. So why did you?

Because I was in pain. And I needed an outlet for it. Maybe I needed somebody to hurt worse than me. I don’t know…

Corey had to admit he hadn’t been expecting that. No. My choices were my own.

No. They weren’t. They were mine. Choices that I IMPOSED on you. Horrors that I IMPOSED on you. And it wasn’t fair.

Okay. So, again, why/ What kind of hurt must you have been going through?

I wasn’t…he grimaced. I wasn’t well. Mentally. I mean, the writing was a good outlet. It helped me through some tough times. Some really tough times. I was depressed. And scared. I didn’t see any hope for myself.

Something inside Corey resonated with the sentiment. That overwhelming despair. The feeling that nothing would ever get better. That bottomless chasm.

Jason wiped away an errant tear. So, I’m sorry….

And then, just as soon as the sympathy flowed, it ebbed again with the coming of another realization. Wait, so were you responsible for Madison Dyson?

The “creator” looked down at the table, shame faced. Yes.

Corey snorted. Yeah, you must be pretty fucked up then. He jerked his thumb towards the front door. Look man, I’m gonna step out that door and into outer space or a whale’s belly or whatever the fuck this high has in store for me. Later.

No…please! Don’t go.

I don’t need to grant absolution to some delusion.

You’re right. I don’t deserve your absolution. I don’t! Jason held his hands out plaintively. I just wanted you to listen. I…I care about you.

Corey relented a bit. So did you also create Dolly? And Thad?

No, no. They were made by others.

Who?

Other people. Online. But people who have come to be good friends to me regardless of how I met them.

So you all sing kumbaya and think of people’s lives to upend?

I guess so. Yeah, it’s pretty shitty when you put it like that. Jason chanced a look up at Corey again. But that’s why I had you retire. You deserve to rest. You deserve to be happy.

Okay. Thanks. His tone was somewhat dismissive, and yet still bordering on reconciliation. So you all know each other as you write these stories. What’s the point?

Jason shrugged. Different people do it for different reasons. Many because they needed an outlet. Like me. Some just because they enjoy writing. Or like the competition.

How long have you been doing this? Have their been…others? Like me?

Yeah. Quite a few. Some decent. Some not so much. And I’ve been doing it for years. But nowhere has felt like home as much as the XWF has. It’s special.

Corey chortled. I’ll say.

No, really though. Yeah, it can be crazy. Kinda dramatic at times. But the relationships I’ve formed, granted, I’ve never met any of them in real life. But they feel real. They feel important. You know? I guess it’s like one big commune of strange, beautiful people coming together to create this shared experience together. An experience that probably only makes sense to them. Jason chuckled lightly. I don’t even know quite how to explain it to my family.

Despite the sheer surreality of it all, Corey was finding himself drawn in. I guess that sounds kinda nice.

It is. It really is.

Okay, so, fine. You’re sorry. Corey sat back in his seat. Make it up to me.

How?

Destroy Madison. Or delete her, erase her. Whatever.

I…

You control her, right? You created her?

Yeah.

I mean, as messed up as that is. You unleashed this thing. So, I want her gone.

Jason squirmed. It’s not that….

Don’t tell me it’s not that easy. You just said you made her up. So it stands to reason, given the parameters of this drug induced thought exercise, that it should be easy for you to make her go away.

I’ve invested ten years of my life into her.

Corey mouthed “wow”.

Look…

That’s fuckin’ sad. I’d be pissed if this was real.

Can we table this conversation? Let’s talk about the Cannabis Cup. It’s your last grand hurrah.

Corey stabbed his finger on the table for emphasis. If you really care about me as one of your creations. As your brainchild! You’ll do this small thing for me.

Jason went silent and closed his eyes. So this is how it ends.

Yup. Madison. Gone for good. He points at the door again. Do it or I rejoin Alias in space.

Jason sighed deeply. Alright…he spoke quietly. Alright.

Alright! Corey scooped up the can of Bubly and took another sip, instantly regretting it. You know this stuff really is the pits.

…huh? Jason’s attention lagged, lost in thought.

Corey waggled the can in the air. This stuff is gross.

Yeah. Heh. It’s an acquired taste I guess.

Corey placed the can back down. So how do I…I mean WE…win the Cannabis Cup?

Jason relaxed, as though contented to be on more neutral ground. We go through Bobby Bourbon or Mark Flynn.

You sound confident. There’s a lot of people in this thing.

There sure are Corey. Thankfully for us, most of them are hack jobs from outside the XWF.

Corey looked at Jason askance. So you’re assuming they suck because they’re from outside the XWF?

No. No, no, no. Jason smirked. I’m DECLARING that they suck because they’re from outside the XWF. Because when you get luminaries like The Swallowing…

*Snrkt*

Like…the fucking SWALLOWING. The jokes literally write themselves. Oh yeah and guys like The Tactilizing One, like “tactilizing” is anything but a word that’s designed by an idiot to make bigger idiots thing you’re a goddamn Mensa member…

Okay, but ‘hol up. Funny as they are, none of them are in the Cup.

No, they’re not. But they’re indicative of the kind of “talent” IN the Cup. Jason sighs and sits back. The XWF breeds the best of the best. Bar none. There’s a reason the place has been going strong for over 20 years when other feds have died by the wayside. There’s a reason why people who CARE have taken the reigns time after time to keep this show going. And it’s because the XWF is a showcase of the best goddamn talent on the internet.

You mean…oh, right, we’re on the internet…

Yes we are. And that’s why I’m confident it’s an XWF’er who’s going to take this thing. Aside from Michael Graves, because you’re DEFINITELY rolling his sorry no showing ass round one.

Maybe we should address another elephant in the room?

Yes my young padawan?

Wow, you ARE a dork. But you’re kinda cute so I’ll let it pass.

This counts as masturbation.

*Ahem* The aforementioned elephant is that Chris Page is representing like half the guys in this thing.

Five by my count. But still entirely too much Chris Page.

Exactly. Now, of those five, who’s the one that Chris REALLY wants to win? Who’s the one who he thinks has the GREATEST chance of winning? Because let’s be real here, the only reason he’s representing that many people is because Page is doing what Page does best, slutting it up for the camera. But there’s no way he thinks they all have an equal shot at winning. And you know what? I bet they’re all thinking the same thing. They all got that ear worm wriggling around in there. “Is it me? Does he believe in me? Or is it one of the other guys?” Hell gentlemen, maybe he’s just representing the rest of you because he wants to give his one true chosen one an edge. Maybe he’s going to try to push one of these shlubs through to the finals so he can stab them in the back and hand it all to Flynn because yes, fellas, YES it’s Flynn as the chosen one if Page has half a brain.

Which is unproven.

Touche my literary friend. But you’ve gotta think that all this drama is deep in the back of their heads. That’s why most managers who aren’t wasted piles of idiot puke only represent ONE client. Because it’s to avoid situations exactly like this one where loyalties can become divided and suspicion and resentment can bubble to the surface. But Page never thought of that because he’s stupid with a capital Stu.

But let’s circle back to my original point. It’s gonna be an XWF’er winning this thing. So who do we got? We got Mac Bane, who is just BARELY an XWF’er and has thus far proven to be perfectly mediocre…

And also repped by Chris Page, so he’s got that working against him.

…Latina Submission Machina, Bobby Bourbon, Betsy Granger….

Does she still count?

We’ll count her. Bets is good people. Doesnt have a prayer of winning, but good people. And then we got Jason Cashe (see Mac Bane but smart enough to avoid the Page plague) and….Thunder Cuckles.

Heh. But ok, how can we be so certain it’s gonna be an XWF guy (or gal). Isn’t immediately discounting the non-XWF folks making a gross tactical error?

Jason sighs. I’d smack you if you weren’t my most beautiful creation and also clerverly advancing the dialogue.

Corey has himself a little bow.

Look, like I said before, the XWF is *THE BEST*. It is the the fiery kiln from which greatness is forged. If you can survive here, you can thrive literally anywhere. Case in point? Alias. Fucking unstoppable. An absolutele gorgeous nightmare. Forged where? Here. Bobby Bourbon. Multi time champion. Done it all. Seen it all. Forged where? Here. Hell, our cast offs, the people who couldn’t truly flourish here, flourish elsewhere because their game has been so altered by being exposed to the level of sheer competition in the XWF.

I told you I’ve been doing this for a long ass time, right? Well, in this case “long ass” is about 15 years. In that time, I’ve participated in God knows how many promotions. Seriously, I have no fucking clue. But the one universal constant is that I have encountered the level of talent I see in the XWF nowhere else. Absolutely nowhere. I have staked out the horizon, the far corners of the fedding globe, and found them wanting in comparison.

So you ask me why I’m so confident it’s an XWF guy? That’s why.

Oh, except it’s definitely not going to be Thunder Knuckles.

Corey laughs. Yeah, that guy might punch a big gaping hole in your theory.

Nah. He’s okay by our standards but would be a badass anywhere else. Except I think he got beat by Cholo.

And he has been the recipient of the easiest most relaxed XTreme Championship run of all time. Like, when’s the last time somebody’s taken a shot at it? How many times has he gotten rolled up in those hallways?

Zilch. Or damn near.

Pre-zactly. Thunder Knuckles, man. Homeboy is entertaining but has always been solidly mid card.

Pre-zact-a mundo. And mid card you are NOT. You’re so far past TK he is but a mote in thine eye.

Poetic. And a bit over the top. I see where I get it from now.

Ahhh, so you’re coming around to the existential realization of your existence?

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. But yeah, TK is a slim to none chance of making it to the finals. How about Jason Cashe?

Not forged here. But kudos for taking on this bitch of a promotion. It’s just too bad he’s so insistent on swimming in the XWF’s smallest pool.

Betsy Granger?

Betsy wasn’t Betsy the last time we saw her. She couldn’t catch her footing and made a poor showing of it. It’s not her.

Latina Submission Machina?

Competent, but ultimately queen of the small pool twice over. It ain’t her either. But here’s hoping she makes for a decent War Games captain.

Cheers to that. Corey holds his can aloft. So it really does come down to Flynn or Bourbon. Let’s speak on Bobby Bourbon. Dude’s the King, man. Literally.

Not to mention the only person in the entire XWF to beat us twice.

Yeowch. But, for as good as he is, and for as ooey-gooey as he makes me…Corey winks flirtatatiously, we all know he’s quite fallible too. He lost to The Engineer. He just recently failed to overcome newcomer par excellance Raion Kido at Leap of Faith. Granted he wasn’t the only one to do so. He also uhhh….lost to Calypso recently.

Whoa, hold on, do you smell toast? I swear I must be having a stroke because I thought you just said…

Oh, I sure did. The Grande POO-BOB himself couldn’t get it done against the trio of Dolly Waters, John Black, and the C-man himself. What with poor Dolly only just recently starting to return to fighting strength, that match should have been a clearing house for the big man. Except it wasn’t. And that there is Bobby Bourbon’s most glaring flaw: his inconsistency. I’ve said it maaaany times before, and I’ll keep saying it because it’s true. You just never know what brand of Bobby you’re gonna get. Bobby who gives a damn. Or Bobby who doesn’t. It truly is a shit shoot.

Nevertheless, I’ll be the first one to admit the man poses a problem for me. He pinned me. He actually pinned me. I can count the motherfuckers who’ve done that on one hand and I don’t even need all the fingers. And is that fact creeping around the back of my head as I stare down the finals of this shindig? I’d be an idiot if it wasn’t. But still…STILL I gotta give myself the edge.

Why?

One word. Cardio. Bobby’s big and strong, but when it comes to sheer GO, I’ve got him beat. I’m legit fucking indefatigable compared to him. Because that mass of a man is going to have to fight how many goddamn times in so short a period of time? I think Bobby’s gonna get tired. I think he’s gonna get wore out. Especially being that he’s spent the majority of the last year being able to rely on a tag when things get hot.

But me? I’m a lithe 160 pounds of manic pixie pure energy, baby. Red Bull poured and distilled into a vaguely humanoid form. I don’t get gassed. And I damn sure know I’ll have more in the tank than Bobby by the time the finals roll around. But hey man, at least you’ll still be the biggest Poo in the entire XWF when all this is said and done.

Corey takes a breather for a moment before proceeding.

And finally, we come to Mark Flynn. Captain Consistancy. The man who took my friend Thad Duke to the limit and then some. But Flynn struggles from one of the same problems Bourbon does. Because when he runs this gauntlet, he’s doing it solo. Or, almost solo. But more on that in a sec. There’s nobody to tag in Marky Mark. And you’ve got a long road to wander before you can rest. I don’t think you’ll get gassed like Bourbon though. You’ve got too much spite to ya.

And then there is the Page problem. Because you see you probably think Page is there for you, but as always he’s really there for himself. He wants to be the spectacle. He wants to be the star of his own show. Why the hell do you think he’s repping so many guys in this thing when he’s names already on the damn marquee! Come on, Mark, THINK. And you know what? If you prove you’re not the chosen one, if you slip up and lose a match? You dont think he’ll dump your ass so fast your head’ll spin? And that’s if he even thinks your the lynch pin. Like I said before, he probably already has his assumptions made about who the one to beat is. Did he tell you it’s you? I’m sure he didn’t say that to all the other guys.

Corey folds his hands. I’m done.

Good job, Corey.

Shouldn’t we be saying good job, Jason? You’re the puppeteer with your hand up my ass, right?

Jason sighs. Come on, man…

Corey smirks. I’m not gonna leave it like that. You did give birth to me afterall. Hope I didn’t tear you up too bad on the way out. Corey proffers up his fist for a fist bump. Jason takes a look at it, smiles a wan sort of smile, and fist bumps him back.

I really do care about you. Thank you for being a part of my life.

Well, you’re welcome. He nods his head and stands up. But duty calls. See you in the funny pages, Jason.

Yeah. Yeah, see you soon Corey. Jason lifted a hand to wave goodbye as Corey turned and left out the front door. Jason’s hand faltered as he lowered it, and a certain sadness overcame his features.

Then, a woman’s fingers approached from stage left and started to worm their way over Jason’s scalp. Playfully massaging his hair. Jason winced and withdrew, but didn’t stop the mysterious stranger.

Liar, liar, pants on fire. You know you can never be rid of me.

The woman’s voice descended into a mirthless cackle as Jason sat stock still, a haunted gleam in his eye.

Elsewhere


Corey’s eyes flutter open, and then he squeezes them shut instantly against the onslaught of the light.

Ugh….Gaaahd….

Massaging his eye balls with his fingers, he slowly opens them again. He finds himself back in his car.

Am I still….?

No, no, somehow he knows he’s not. The high has passed. Mercifully so.

Jesus, what a ride.

And yet the end was so peculiar, so unlike the rest. It carried a certain authenticity, not nearly as dreamlike. Corey pondered why that was. Perhaps his visions simply became less extravagant as the high wore off?

And that’s when he noted the can of Bubly sitting beside him.

Well, ain’t that a pisser. ]]>
Ah…shit! What the…?

Corey writhed and twisted as he was enfolded by hanging shirts. He could hear hangers clattering to the floor as he manuevered. Then, sticking out his hands, he was drawn to a sliver of light. His fingers went towards the light, finding purchase on the edge of a sliding door. Corey opened it and….

Huh?

He had stepped out of a closet and was in a modest bedroom. An antique dresser to his left, a papasan chair to his right laden with folded laundry. Just ahead was a bed, and further still a series of bookshelves filled to the brim with action figures and collectibles.

Oh, and a man sitting on the bed reading a graphic novel.

Oh…uh….hey. Sorry….I….Corey kicked away a stray hanger that had found it’s way around the toe of his shoe.

No problem, Corey! I was looking forward to meeting you. The man said. He was slightly stocky, his hair shaved into a fine buzz with a well kept beard hanging just below it. Somehow, the buzz cut made the green in his eyes pop.

Corey blinked rapidly and lilted back in surprise. You know me?

The man sat up, tossing the graphic novel aside, and swung his feet to the floor. Of course. I created you. He extends a hand. My name is Jason.

Wait…wha-what? Corey ran a hand down his face in consternation. I’m still high. Just ride out the trip and hope it ends soon. Corey stepped in a shook the man’s hand. Hey, I’m, uh, oh, you already know…my name…

Come on into the dining room, I’ll get you something to drink. Nonalcoholic, of course.

Corey followed Jason into the adjoining room. A dining room table was there, beneath a tasteful chandelier. The far side of the table was littered with sorted mail. Jason gestured to the mail. Sorry about the mess.

It’s no problem. Corey pulled out a chair and sat, eyes lingering on the light brown woodwork in front of him before turning to look at Jason as he opened the fridge. It was very much a bachelor’s store, with little in the fridge but beverages and some bagged half eaten Chinese food.

Guess I need to go shopping. Turns out it’s Bubly Sparkling Water or Bubly Sparkling Water?

Corey smiled. I’ll have a Bubly.

Jason tossed him one and sat down at the table across from him. As this occurred, it struck Corey how mundane all of this seemed. A far cry from the unfettered strangeness of before. Jason cracked open his can and Corey followed suit. He took a sip, remembering that Bubly tasted like flat ass, but swallowed respectfully. So what did you mean by “you made me”?

Yeah…hooo boy. This is gonna be tough on you. I’m sorry for that. Honestly. Jason’s expression became less muted and more sorrowful. Whatever he was about to say featured very real pangs of guilt. You’re a character I created to participate in a fantasy wrestling game on the internet.

Corey cocked his head. The individual words were familiar but their comportment was not. Ultimately, all he could do was laugh. You’re a funny guy. Cool toys too.

Yeah, it’a a miracle I ever get laid. Despite the joke, he remained serious. Look, Corey, I don’t expect this to be easy at all. But I need to talk to you and to do that I need to level with you about where you come from.

Corey chuckled again. I’m never smoking weed again.

No, you won’t. Because that’s not how I’ll write you. Again, with a steadfast seriousness.

Corey leaned in, now slightly piqued. Look man, you’re just a hallucination I’m going to be sleeping off in a few hours. So could we maybe punch it up a bit? Maybe fly to Jupiter and have a Dragonball Z style throwdown with Chris Page? Or ride a rainbow to a pot of gold that turns out to be a Mimic that tries to eat me?

Did you even know what a Mimic was until right now?

Huh? I…Corey realized he had no idea what a Mimic was until just then.

Yeah, its a monster from Dungeons and Dragons. I know that because I’m a huge dork. And now you know that because I created you. I’m STILL creating you.

Okay, okay, fine, if you’re some omnipotent creator, tell me how things are going to go for me at the Cannabis Cup.

Jason shook his head. I’m not omnipotent, but I’m going to try like hell to make sure you win. But’s it’s not going to be easy.

Damn, but this is a consistent delusion! You haven’t even grown an extra eye or started speaking in tongues or anything. Corey throws his hands out. This all looks like a real house!

Would you just listen! Jason’s declaration bordered on scolding.

Corey softened. Well, I suppose if you’re my creator I have no choice.

The “creator” looked a trifle taken aback. I guess…I guess you don’t. Huh. A pause. Look, I’m sorry for all of this. And like I said, I know this must be difficult. But I had to talk to you before I had you ride off into the sunset. Another pause. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.

You’re sorry? Sorry for what?

Jason folded his hands in front of him, looking pained. I’ve put you through a lot. The life I’ve written for you has been nothing short of hellish. And you didn’t deserve that.

Corey, still humoring this “Jason”, replied. So why did you?

Because I was in pain. And I needed an outlet for it. Maybe I needed somebody to hurt worse than me. I don’t know…

Corey had to admit he hadn’t been expecting that. No. My choices were my own.

No. They weren’t. They were mine. Choices that I IMPOSED on you. Horrors that I IMPOSED on you. And it wasn’t fair.

Okay. So, again, why/ What kind of hurt must you have been going through?

I wasn’t…he grimaced. I wasn’t well. Mentally. I mean, the writing was a good outlet. It helped me through some tough times. Some really tough times. I was depressed. And scared. I didn’t see any hope for myself.

Something inside Corey resonated with the sentiment. That overwhelming despair. The feeling that nothing would ever get better. That bottomless chasm.

Jason wiped away an errant tear. So, I’m sorry….

And then, just as soon as the sympathy flowed, it ebbed again with the coming of another realization. Wait, so were you responsible for Madison Dyson?

The “creator” looked down at the table, shame faced. Yes.

Corey snorted. Yeah, you must be pretty fucked up then. He jerked his thumb towards the front door. Look man, I’m gonna step out that door and into outer space or a whale’s belly or whatever the fuck this high has in store for me. Later.

No…please! Don’t go.

I don’t need to grant absolution to some delusion.

You’re right. I don’t deserve your absolution. I don’t! Jason held his hands out plaintively. I just wanted you to listen. I…I care about you.

Corey relented a bit. So did you also create Dolly? And Thad?

No, no. They were made by others.

Who?

Other people. Online. But people who have come to be good friends to me regardless of how I met them.

So you all sing kumbaya and think of people’s lives to upend?

I guess so. Yeah, it’s pretty shitty when you put it like that. Jason chanced a look up at Corey again. But that’s why I had you retire. You deserve to rest. You deserve to be happy.

Okay. Thanks. His tone was somewhat dismissive, and yet still bordering on reconciliation. So you all know each other as you write these stories. What’s the point?

Jason shrugged. Different people do it for different reasons. Many because they needed an outlet. Like me. Some just because they enjoy writing. Or like the competition.

How long have you been doing this? Have their been…others? Like me?

Yeah. Quite a few. Some decent. Some not so much. And I’ve been doing it for years. But nowhere has felt like home as much as the XWF has. It’s special.

Corey chortled. I’ll say.

No, really though. Yeah, it can be crazy. Kinda dramatic at times. But the relationships I’ve formed, granted, I’ve never met any of them in real life. But they feel real. They feel important. You know? I guess it’s like one big commune of strange, beautiful people coming together to create this shared experience together. An experience that probably only makes sense to them. Jason chuckled lightly. I don’t even know quite how to explain it to my family.

Despite the sheer surreality of it all, Corey was finding himself drawn in. I guess that sounds kinda nice.

It is. It really is.

Okay, so, fine. You’re sorry. Corey sat back in his seat. Make it up to me.

How?

Destroy Madison. Or delete her, erase her. Whatever.

I…

You control her, right? You created her?

Yeah.

I mean, as messed up as that is. You unleashed this thing. So, I want her gone.

Jason squirmed. It’s not that….

Don’t tell me it’s not that easy. You just said you made her up. So it stands to reason, given the parameters of this drug induced thought exercise, that it should be easy for you to make her go away.

I’ve invested ten years of my life into her.

Corey mouthed “wow”.

Look…

That’s fuckin’ sad. I’d be pissed if this was real.

Can we table this conversation? Let’s talk about the Cannabis Cup. It’s your last grand hurrah.

Corey stabbed his finger on the table for emphasis. If you really care about me as one of your creations. As your brainchild! You’ll do this small thing for me.

Jason went silent and closed his eyes. So this is how it ends.

Yup. Madison. Gone for good. He points at the door again. Do it or I rejoin Alias in space.

Jason sighed deeply. Alright…he spoke quietly. Alright.

Alright! Corey scooped up the can of Bubly and took another sip, instantly regretting it. You know this stuff really is the pits.

…huh? Jason’s attention lagged, lost in thought.

Corey waggled the can in the air. This stuff is gross.

Yeah. Heh. It’s an acquired taste I guess.

Corey placed the can back down. So how do I…I mean WE…win the Cannabis Cup?

Jason relaxed, as though contented to be on more neutral ground. We go through Bobby Bourbon or Mark Flynn.

You sound confident. There’s a lot of people in this thing.

There sure are Corey. Thankfully for us, most of them are hack jobs from outside the XWF.

Corey looked at Jason askance. So you’re assuming they suck because they’re from outside the XWF?

No. No, no, no. Jason smirked. I’m DECLARING that they suck because they’re from outside the XWF. Because when you get luminaries like The Swallowing…

*Snrkt*

Like…the fucking SWALLOWING. The jokes literally write themselves. Oh yeah and guys like The Tactilizing One, like “tactilizing” is anything but a word that’s designed by an idiot to make bigger idiots thing you’re a goddamn Mensa member…

Okay, but ‘hol up. Funny as they are, none of them are in the Cup.

No, they’re not. But they’re indicative of the kind of “talent” IN the Cup. Jason sighs and sits back. The XWF breeds the best of the best. Bar none. There’s a reason the place has been going strong for over 20 years when other feds have died by the wayside. There’s a reason why people who CARE have taken the reigns time after time to keep this show going. And it’s because the XWF is a showcase of the best goddamn talent on the internet.

You mean…oh, right, we’re on the internet…

Yes we are. And that’s why I’m confident it’s an XWF’er who’s going to take this thing. Aside from Michael Graves, because you’re DEFINITELY rolling his sorry no showing ass round one.

Maybe we should address another elephant in the room?

Yes my young padawan?

Wow, you ARE a dork. But you’re kinda cute so I’ll let it pass.

This counts as masturbation.

*Ahem* The aforementioned elephant is that Chris Page is representing like half the guys in this thing.

Five by my count. But still entirely too much Chris Page.

Exactly. Now, of those five, who’s the one that Chris REALLY wants to win? Who’s the one who he thinks has the GREATEST chance of winning? Because let’s be real here, the only reason he’s representing that many people is because Page is doing what Page does best, slutting it up for the camera. But there’s no way he thinks they all have an equal shot at winning. And you know what? I bet they’re all thinking the same thing. They all got that ear worm wriggling around in there. “Is it me? Does he believe in me? Or is it one of the other guys?” Hell gentlemen, maybe he’s just representing the rest of you because he wants to give his one true chosen one an edge. Maybe he’s going to try to push one of these shlubs through to the finals so he can stab them in the back and hand it all to Flynn because yes, fellas, YES it’s Flynn as the chosen one if Page has half a brain.

Which is unproven.

Touche my literary friend. But you’ve gotta think that all this drama is deep in the back of their heads. That’s why most managers who aren’t wasted piles of idiot puke only represent ONE client. Because it’s to avoid situations exactly like this one where loyalties can become divided and suspicion and resentment can bubble to the surface. But Page never thought of that because he’s stupid with a capital Stu.

But let’s circle back to my original point. It’s gonna be an XWF’er winning this thing. So who do we got? We got Mac Bane, who is just BARELY an XWF’er and has thus far proven to be perfectly mediocre…

And also repped by Chris Page, so he’s got that working against him.

…Latina Submission Machina, Bobby Bourbon, Betsy Granger….

Does she still count?

We’ll count her. Bets is good people. Doesnt have a prayer of winning, but good people. And then we got Jason Cashe (see Mac Bane but smart enough to avoid the Page plague) and….Thunder Cuckles.

Heh. But ok, how can we be so certain it’s gonna be an XWF guy (or gal). Isn’t immediately discounting the non-XWF folks making a gross tactical error?

Jason sighs. I’d smack you if you weren’t my most beautiful creation and also clerverly advancing the dialogue.

Corey has himself a little bow.

Look, like I said before, the XWF is *THE BEST*. It is the the fiery kiln from which greatness is forged. If you can survive here, you can thrive literally anywhere. Case in point? Alias. Fucking unstoppable. An absolutele gorgeous nightmare. Forged where? Here. Bobby Bourbon. Multi time champion. Done it all. Seen it all. Forged where? Here. Hell, our cast offs, the people who couldn’t truly flourish here, flourish elsewhere because their game has been so altered by being exposed to the level of sheer competition in the XWF.

I told you I’ve been doing this for a long ass time, right? Well, in this case “long ass” is about 15 years. In that time, I’ve participated in God knows how many promotions. Seriously, I have no fucking clue. But the one universal constant is that I have encountered the level of talent I see in the XWF nowhere else. Absolutely nowhere. I have staked out the horizon, the far corners of the fedding globe, and found them wanting in comparison.

So you ask me why I’m so confident it’s an XWF guy? That’s why.

Oh, except it’s definitely not going to be Thunder Knuckles.

Corey laughs. Yeah, that guy might punch a big gaping hole in your theory.

Nah. He’s okay by our standards but would be a badass anywhere else. Except I think he got beat by Cholo.

And he has been the recipient of the easiest most relaxed XTreme Championship run of all time. Like, when’s the last time somebody’s taken a shot at it? How many times has he gotten rolled up in those hallways?

Zilch. Or damn near.

Pre-zactly. Thunder Knuckles, man. Homeboy is entertaining but has always been solidly mid card.

Pre-zact-a mundo. And mid card you are NOT. You’re so far past TK he is but a mote in thine eye.

Poetic. And a bit over the top. I see where I get it from now.

Ahhh, so you’re coming around to the existential realization of your existence?

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. But yeah, TK is a slim to none chance of making it to the finals. How about Jason Cashe?

Not forged here. But kudos for taking on this bitch of a promotion. It’s just too bad he’s so insistent on swimming in the XWF’s smallest pool.

Betsy Granger?

Betsy wasn’t Betsy the last time we saw her. She couldn’t catch her footing and made a poor showing of it. It’s not her.

Latina Submission Machina?

Competent, but ultimately queen of the small pool twice over. It ain’t her either. But here’s hoping she makes for a decent War Games captain.

Cheers to that. Corey holds his can aloft. So it really does come down to Flynn or Bourbon. Let’s speak on Bobby Bourbon. Dude’s the King, man. Literally.

Not to mention the only person in the entire XWF to beat us twice.

Yeowch. But, for as good as he is, and for as ooey-gooey as he makes me…Corey winks flirtatatiously, we all know he’s quite fallible too. He lost to The Engineer. He just recently failed to overcome newcomer par excellance Raion Kido at Leap of Faith. Granted he wasn’t the only one to do so. He also uhhh….lost to Calypso recently.

Whoa, hold on, do you smell toast? I swear I must be having a stroke because I thought you just said…

Oh, I sure did. The Grande POO-BOB himself couldn’t get it done against the trio of Dolly Waters, John Black, and the C-man himself. What with poor Dolly only just recently starting to return to fighting strength, that match should have been a clearing house for the big man. Except it wasn’t. And that there is Bobby Bourbon’s most glaring flaw: his inconsistency. I’ve said it maaaany times before, and I’ll keep saying it because it’s true. You just never know what brand of Bobby you’re gonna get. Bobby who gives a damn. Or Bobby who doesn’t. It truly is a shit shoot.

Nevertheless, I’ll be the first one to admit the man poses a problem for me. He pinned me. He actually pinned me. I can count the motherfuckers who’ve done that on one hand and I don’t even need all the fingers. And is that fact creeping around the back of my head as I stare down the finals of this shindig? I’d be an idiot if it wasn’t. But still…STILL I gotta give myself the edge.

Why?

One word. Cardio. Bobby’s big and strong, but when it comes to sheer GO, I’ve got him beat. I’m legit fucking indefatigable compared to him. Because that mass of a man is going to have to fight how many goddamn times in so short a period of time? I think Bobby’s gonna get tired. I think he’s gonna get wore out. Especially being that he’s spent the majority of the last year being able to rely on a tag when things get hot.

But me? I’m a lithe 160 pounds of manic pixie pure energy, baby. Red Bull poured and distilled into a vaguely humanoid form. I don’t get gassed. And I damn sure know I’ll have more in the tank than Bobby by the time the finals roll around. But hey man, at least you’ll still be the biggest Poo in the entire XWF when all this is said and done.

Corey takes a breather for a moment before proceeding.

And finally, we come to Mark Flynn. Captain Consistancy. The man who took my friend Thad Duke to the limit and then some. But Flynn struggles from one of the same problems Bourbon does. Because when he runs this gauntlet, he’s doing it solo. Or, almost solo. But more on that in a sec. There’s nobody to tag in Marky Mark. And you’ve got a long road to wander before you can rest. I don’t think you’ll get gassed like Bourbon though. You’ve got too much spite to ya.

And then there is the Page problem. Because you see you probably think Page is there for you, but as always he’s really there for himself. He wants to be the spectacle. He wants to be the star of his own show. Why the hell do you think he’s repping so many guys in this thing when he’s names already on the damn marquee! Come on, Mark, THINK. And you know what? If you prove you’re not the chosen one, if you slip up and lose a match? You dont think he’ll dump your ass so fast your head’ll spin? And that’s if he even thinks your the lynch pin. Like I said before, he probably already has his assumptions made about who the one to beat is. Did he tell you it’s you? I’m sure he didn’t say that to all the other guys.

Corey folds his hands. I’m done.

Good job, Corey.

Shouldn’t we be saying good job, Jason? You’re the puppeteer with your hand up my ass, right?

Jason sighs. Come on, man…

Corey smirks. I’m not gonna leave it like that. You did give birth to me afterall. Hope I didn’t tear you up too bad on the way out. Corey proffers up his fist for a fist bump. Jason takes a look at it, smiles a wan sort of smile, and fist bumps him back.

I really do care about you. Thank you for being a part of my life.

Well, you’re welcome. He nods his head and stands up. But duty calls. See you in the funny pages, Jason.

Yeah. Yeah, see you soon Corey. Jason lifted a hand to wave goodbye as Corey turned and left out the front door. Jason’s hand faltered as he lowered it, and a certain sadness overcame his features.

Then, a woman’s fingers approached from stage left and started to worm their way over Jason’s scalp. Playfully massaging his hair. Jason winced and withdrew, but didn’t stop the mysterious stranger.

Liar, liar, pants on fire. You know you can never be rid of me.

The woman’s voice descended into a mirthless cackle as Jason sat stock still, a haunted gleam in his eye.

Elsewhere


Corey’s eyes flutter open, and then he squeezes them shut instantly against the onslaught of the light.

Ugh….Gaaahd….

Massaging his eye balls with his fingers, he slowly opens them again. He finds himself back in his car.

Am I still….?

No, no, somehow he knows he’s not. The high has passed. Mercifully so.

Jesus, what a ride.

And yet the end was so peculiar, so unlike the rest. It carried a certain authenticity, not nearly as dreamlike. Corey pondered why that was. Perhaps his visions simply became less extravagant as the high wore off?

And that’s when he noted the can of Bubly sitting beside him.

Well, ain’t that a pisser. ]]>