Fade in...

We have arrived back in the United States. The trip back was much more relaxing and cozy than it was there. Inside the compound walls of Slathe Manor, I stare out of a large stained glass vertical oval window. The moon is shining bright. Reflecting beautifully off of the few inches of fresh powder. A small snowstorm occurred a couple hours ago. My right-hand rises and presses to the bluish purple tinted glass. A flash of lightning quickly lights up the inside of our home. Loving the sound and visuals of a thunderstorm, I chuckle sinister like. Bang! The sound came from upstairs, almost directly above me. That would have to be in the library, what could Father Slathe be doing in the Library at this time at night?

Bang!

Bang!

Shaking my head I slowly turn around away from the glass. Letting out a small sigh I begin to walk toward the next flight of stairs. Bang! Son of Htaed, what on earth is going on? My pace quickly picks up; a little-worried something is wrong. My legs are sore from my match with Chris Chaos and being stuck on a plane for over ten hours. As I step up from the last stair, I shake my head at how gelatin like my thighs feel. Quickly taking my mind off of the inconvenience, I make my way around the corner and into the Master Library. Once inside I see that Father Slathe has been using the wheeled ladder to drop boxes from most likely the top of the twenty-foot ladder. Four boxes filled with books are scattered on the ground three of the boxes completely split open. So basically, they are cardboard rugs with piles of books on them. The last box surprisingly stayed in full contact, well at least the sides were all still connected.

Father Slathe is more than halfway down the ladder as I walk over to the box still in contact. Bending down at my knees, my arms wrap around the box, bear hug style. Lifting with my legs and back, the box surprisingly lifts too easily. Turning to place it on the twelve-foot polished oak table in the center of the library, I notice the bottom and books are still on the floor. Tossing the waste of a box to the side and out of the way. I notice Father Slathe is at the bottom of the ladder with his palm on his forehead shaking. Quickly I start trying to recover from the mistake I had just made. Working fast and sufficient, I begin stacking the books from the box I ripped the bottom out on accident. Father Slathe chuckles, but I pay no attention as I stack book after book.

Just then his hand grasps my shoulder loosely.

Father Slathe: “Silly boy, we don’t need to be proper for what I am doing. We need to find a book. A very specific book actually. It is called “Astral Projection: Formula X” translated of course, from a dead language. So just look for that book, I don’t care what kind of mess you make. Father O’Hagan has been having a very clever rapist problem around his territory. I have to locate a special someone who can handle the problem!”

Mister Tidbits: “What his men can’t handle the problem? Why do we need this book father? Send me there. You know the head of a rapist would be placed on a pike in front of Father O’Hagan’s compound. I hate rapists almost as much as I fucking hate CLOWNS! Please Father; I wouldn’t waste time, in and out. It won’t affect my performance in the XWF either, I promise.”

Father Slathe: “Sorry child. You’re going to have to sit this one out, just search for the book. Quit talking and search, we must hurry! Have faith in your father and feel The Truth throughout your soul my child!”

I nod in agreement and begin rummaging like a mad man through the books I was starting to stack. While Father Slathe starts searching through another one of the piles. After about ten minutes passes by, I finish with the first pile. Not finding any book even close to the title Father is searching for. Not really understanding why he would believe that such a simple task as executing a serial rapist would be something he finds I would be incompetent with. Spewing sinner’s blood is one of my many skilled talents. Taking a small break from searching for some “important” book. My eyes begin to wander, scanning the library. It was a magnificent Library with books dating back before the 1800’s if not older. The walls completely covered with bookshelves, only windows at the very top of the ceiling where it slightly tapers to a dome.

Father Slathe: “Boy there is no time to daydream, we need to find the BOOK! I know Saturday is coming soon and it is probably surging testosterone, adrenaline, and Htaed knows what else through you. So please stay focused. Soon as we find the book, I promise you can do whatever you please for probably about an hour, while I do some reading. Possibly some translating, I haven’t used this book in a coon’s age. Dammit, now I am rambling and off task! Just keep searching for fuck's sake!”

Mister Tidbits: “Sorry again Father, I will search like a Hell Hound on a freshly expired soul! It’s just you are right, I have a thirst for combat, or a hunt, something VIOLENT!”

Father Slathe: “Soon my boy, very soon. Just have patience and search.”

Letting out the teeny, tiniest, almost inexistent sigh, I turn back to my task at hand. Father Slathe still on his first pile of books, taking his time. As if he is doing something else, other than reading the title. Quickly tossing book after book over my shoulders from my second and last pile I have to search. Reaching down into the pile my right hand, strangely un-gloved, grasps a purple with white to almost silver dots or splatters plastered all over the book. My fingertips just touch the back and opposite side of the binding.

DDDZZZZZZZZZZZ!

SWOOOOOOOSSSSHHH!

The feeling of lightning striking through my skin and electrocuting my nerves directly engulfs my body. The whole library begins to flash and glow white, silver, and flare orange. Continuing the cycle for about one minute in five-second intervals, colorful, normal, colorful, normal, etc. Every time the library goes back to normal I can see Father Slathe chuckling while he moves toward me. After the minute of flashing colors, my whole world goes blank. Not unconscious, almost as if I entered nothingness. Just as I feel like screaming in shock, stars begin to appear all around me lighting up the nothingness. Nothing was there, just darkness and more stars. What the hell is this? No way this could be the doing of that fucking astral book he was looking for... Kind of makes sense, though. Suddenly from inside the nothingness, it feels like a warm hand grabbing my wrist. No not warm, hot, extremely hot. The smell of burning flesh and silk enters my nostrils, not a very pleasant combination of smells. Plus the pain of what felt to be a flaming hand squeezing and searing into my forearm. I let out a scream in agony.

Mister Tidbits: “Aghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! What the Fuckin Fuck!”

Father Slathe: “Let go of the book dummy!”

Instantly obeying I go to drop the book, but my fingers won’t open. The flaming hand no longer holds my forearm, which is nice along with the imprint it left. Concentrating with a ninja-like focus I attempt to release my grasp from the book like Father suggested. Nothing again, this is fucking insane, how could a book accomplish such a trick?

Mister Tidbits: “It won’t let me let go! What the hell is happening Father? Why no warning about this unexplainable shenanigans?”

Father Slathe: “Sorry son, I had no idea it would have this kind of reaction. Never seen this before, I am assuming you are somewhere within the Garden of Stars. Give me a minute. Oh, I don’t know, maybe I can pull the book from your hands!”

About two seconds after Father Slathe stopped speaking I felt a tug from the book in my hands. Suddenly a few of the stars morph together into some kind of astral spirit. Very similar to what we picture a ghost as almost smoke-like. It swirls around the nothingness before swirling around my ankles and working its way up like a deadly snake. Slithering around my right arm up to my shoulder a faint wind like whisper echoes through my ear.

Astral Spirit: “Question everything, false idles burn bright...”

As quick as it finished the word bright, the spirit burnt out like a dead star. Bang! A bright flash of the whitest light ever filled the library as I’m flying through the air. No longer with the book in my possession, the white light fades right before I crash into two old oak chairs. Luckily they were built sturdy enough not to absorb my landing and breakaway. Leaving my backbones and muscles, as well as the back of my cranium to absorb all of the force and damage. Tumbling over the oak chairs I roll into the bottom of one of the bookshelf walls. So dazed I could just about see little birdies flying around my cranium, repeating in a cartoonish bird voice, “You got Knocked the Fuck Out!” Shaking my head trying to knock the cobwebs loose, Father Slathe appears standing over me with the book that almost killed me tucked between his arm and ribs.

Father Slathe: “Great job son, Father O’Hagan will be pleased to know we are on the right path to fixing the rape problem he’s having. If we don’t get it under control fast, he may lose a good quantity of followers. Something we can’t risk, we are behind as it is. The High Council has put us in charge of this because The Truth is we are the most likely to succeed. My knowledge and wisdom, your strength and power we are unstoppable. Who in their right mind wouldn’t have faith in our abilities? Anyways, I am going to refresh my brain on Formula X with this book in the study. So please if you would be a Gent and tidy up in here?”

Mister Tidbits: “Father are we just going to ignore whatever the hell went on when I touched the book? Seriously, though, I would like a little explanation on what happened. Oh, and what is this Formula X?”

Father Slathe: “Where? Where did I go wrong with you child? I’ve always tried to give you the benefit of the doubt and respect you like a man. Lately, all you do is question my words, I thought we have been over this obedience issue. Have we not resolved the problem?”

Slowly climbing to my feet, I stare down Father Slathe through the eyeholes of my mask. Feeling it, Father is hiding something. Maybe it has something to do with what that spirit whispered to me. Lost in my own thoughts I forget that Father Slathe has even asked me a question. That is until he slides a leather switch from his robe sleeve that is edged with razor blades at the very end. Father Slathe begins whipping the non-razorblade portion of the switch into his left palm making sure not to knick himself with the blades.

Father Slathe: “What in the world is wrong with you child? Did the cage for a week not get the fucking point across son? I asked you if our issues are resolved?”

Almost wanting to bite the hand that has been feeding me. Instead, I cower back two steps and take a knee.

Mister Tidbits: “Sorry Father, I’m just still stirred from the crash. My brains were still scrambled.”

Father Slathe smiles ever so slightly and places his right hand out in front of my face. Wanting to huff and puff, I suck it up and lean forward placing the mouth hole of my mask on his unique skeletal bone ring. I make the kissing noise and face under my mask, pleasing my creator.

Fade out.

To Be Continued...
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One of the newest followers of The Truth or at least an interested fan of Father Slathe and Mr. Tidbits logs into his XWF account. While snacking on Cheetos, with his hamburger meat chest hair collecting the crumbs and debris that falls from his chubby mouth. Clicking link after link he finally arrives at the promo selection. Sliding his bar downward looking for his new favorite. Waving the arrow over the link, the fan clicks with his mouse. His desktop screen lights up with a video table in the center about a fourth of the size of his monitor's screen. The Sloppy chubster starts to giggle a little too excited if you ask me. Clicking the play icon in the center of the video table, the table blows up full screen as the promo begins.

Father Slathe has his back to the camera staring out the window to the right inside his study. The book Astral Projection: Formula X is on his desk, his leather switch with razor blades is dangling from the belt of his robes. His finger begins to slowly tap the glass.

Tap. Tap. Tap

Bam!

His palm strikes the glass, most likely scaring viewers right out of their chairs.

Father Slathe: "Hope I didn't scare you there XWF Universe. Actually, I hope it made you piss yourselves! All who do not accept The Truth are worthless. Maybe, just maybe it scared you enough to want to come to a show and deliver a hard closed fist right into my skull. Maybe bring a lady friend with you to try and impress her. Nothing would be better to watch a foolish sheep attempt to strike a Messiah. Mr. Tidbits would end you and deliver your soul to Htaed, The True God! You ignorant fools can hate us, whine when we beat your precious heroes, and even boo! That is fine and dandy, we welcomed it with open arms at Warfare when Mr. Tidbits beat your Universal Champion. Hell Mr. Tidbits made it look like child's play, almost like some kids playing with two action figures and he clearly favored Mr. Tidbits. All that hate, your screams for justice, and even your silence will feed Mr. Tidbits. While you are trying to disrespect him and get in his head, he doesn't look for approval through you. I'm his Father, he only looks for my approval.

Mr. Bourbon, kind sir you really should think about backing out of this match. Like I have told everyone before this, Mr. Tidbits is unique, he is more than a predator of predators. Almost a perfect devastatingly depraved Warrior! My son will go to limits that should not be capable physically or mentally for man. These words I speak are The Truth, any man, women, or thing that steps in the ring with Mr. Tidbits will be risking their last breath. While you grow stronger from the fans cheering on your name Mr. Bourbon, my son will be doing the same. Why? Simple that will reveal to him you no longer can go on without their support. My son will jump right in splashing, not caring who he soaks! Not giving a shit that poor fat boy Bourbon has his floaties supporting his obese ass. Come, Warfare Champ your floaties aren't going to be able to keep you afloat during this storm. Inside the cage surrounded by Steel walls, the XWF Universe will watch my son Mr. Tidbits drown Robbie Mother Fuckin Bourbon in his own blood. Along with his dreams, his title, his glory, and his Hart!

Mr. Bourbon you call my son a dog, is that suppose to be hurtful? Dogs are some of the most loyal, intelligent, and lethal animals in the kingdom of life. Being a dog would be great laying around all day, being fed, taken care of, the relax life. If you are a waste of human flesh, my son Mr. Tidbits would more be like a wolf, a beast, a wild dog! Unlike everyone else in the XWF, who are mainly just dog chow. You, though Mr. Bourbon probably are not dog chow, more like a coyote. I am positive you will put up more of a fight than Mr. Chaos, hopefully. For Mr. Tidbits sake, I've been promising him enjoyable combat! So far he seems to be displeased, well besides with you of course during that horse shit bout I believe our first or second night showing on air.

The outcome this time around will be Robbie losing his "Hart!" Mr. Tidbits knows now that I want the spotlight to spread our gospel. Our voice needs to be heard, The Truth needs to be spread. If we must conquer all of the Champions of XWF so be it! My son is a warrior of Htaed and to our enemies, he will bleed, beat, and conquer! For the path of violence is the only TRUE path. Come Warfare Mr. Bourbon you will be met at the crossroads of Faith, where the keeper will simply ask you to choose. The easy, lazy, and sinful path or the painful, almost unachievable one? My spirit feels like you may surprise us all come Warfare when you are met with that decision. Then there is an enormous aura that says otherwise and you will stuff your face full of fame and fall into the crowd, a sea of nothingness. Meaningless animated meat treats for men like Mr. Tidbits, fighters of the righteous, protectors of The Truth!

Mr. Bourbon you better eat all the hotdogs and drink all the coffee that large gut of yours can hold. Just like everyone before, I promise you'll underestimate the depravedness of Mr. Tidbits. You're going to need to watch out for his bite because it is much bigger and deadlier than his bark. XWF Universe wait and see, tomorrow night at Savage before Mr. Tidbits climbs out of the cage winning the Hart Championship. He will sink the fangs of TRUTH into his prey!"

Smack!

Father Slathe Smacks the window again before chuckling like a crazed mad man as Lightning flashes from outside through the stained glass.

Fade out.