A few weeks ago some juiced up mongrel named Tommy Gunn walked through the doors of the XWF as one of Paul Heyman’s newest works in progress. He won a few matches, mostly against no bodies but that’s not why he’s on my radar. In fact it’s not what he did but what he said that got my attention. Which I must admit is somewhat embarrassing to even say because listening to Tommy Gunn’s rants is what I would imagine it feels like to fuck a broken bottle. I guess I am a masochist at heart because knowing that I still listened to Gunn’s garbage. And in one of those vomit inducing diatribes laced at Frodo or Cain or whoever it was he faced that week he made the comment that he doesn’t care about winning. That he is here for other reasons. Hmm, that’s interesting. Completely fucking but interesting nonetheless.

Why join a wrestling federation if not to win and earn various titles? I mean, if beating people up is all it takes for a guy to get their rocks off than they might as well just walk up and down the streets of any major city and play the “Knockout Game” or be on the next edition of “Bum Fights”. To borrow a phrase from Vince Lombardi, here in the XWF “Winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.” And I like winning. I like it so much I do myself the honor of doing it often. Like Wednesday night for example. I won a match versus everyone’s favorite displaced Gieco advertisement and in the process became the new XWF Television Champion. The third such title I have won in my less than 1 year here at the XWF. And what did I do after winning that title?

What any fun loving and good looking man would do after a big victory. I celebrated. And I celebrated a lot. And who better to celebrate with than someone else who won that night, someone else who also happens to have the same affinity for cocaine that I do, the recently back from the dead Luca Arzegotti. Luca and I have a bit of an interesting past, both former members of The Black Circle, both left the group to pursue other business opportunities. Oddly enough, we have spent more time on opposite sides of the fence than the same and yet here we are allies, along with Mark Flynn in what is quickly becoming the most talked about trio of characters since The Triple X Listers. High Society, that’s our name by the way, is the future of XWF trio’s scene. It’s so awesome we are even considering having our own Twitter page, where you, the fans will get to ask us anything you want. You want Mark to do stand up at your kid’s birthday party, ask us. You want Luca to show up at your next Company retreat and read his Communist Manifesto? Ask us. You want me to buy you a new car? Fuck you, buy your own car. But I will buy you a matchbox car that is a replica of the car you want? Seriously, you will get to ask us anything you want and we will respond.

#DoItYouKnowYouWantTo.

Anyway back to the celebration, after our respective matches on the latest edition of Warfare Luca and I decided to do a few lines and then head out on the town and what a town it is. Denver, Colorado, one of the few cities in America where the ganj is legal. Which really only makes the celebration that much better. So Luca and I went out, hit up a few bars, hit on a few ladies while also verbally abusing their douche bag boyfriends. Things started out great, the booze was flowing like wine, Dumb and Dumber anyone? But then things got real bad real fast.

The problem with two noted coke heads parting together is that no matter how much coke you have, it’s never as much as you think you have. And so shortly after the parting hit its crescendo it quickly stalled as the supply of cocaine had come up drier than Peter Gilmour’s b-hole after he got ass rammed by Frodo. And unfortunately, the aforementioned Frodo was nowhere in sight to resupply two of his favorite customers.

And that is where this story begins.


"Stop playin' man, where's the rest of the coke?"

"I'm not playin', what the fuck's up with that anyway? Pronounce the g, you sound like Griffin MacAlister."

"Fuck you. Okay fine, answer me this Theo, I'm not high enough; you're not high enough; that skank over there," he says, pointing over to a bottle blonde currently vomiting onto the potted plant of the hotel room that the pair currently find themselves in. "She ain't high enough. So tell me man, what are we going to do about that?"

"Here's a novel idea, how about we buy more?"

"Nah man, there has to be a more convoluted way."


Cue Theo facepalming. Cue Theo facepalming so hard that the entire world feels it: earthquakes spring up on every continent simultaneously, causing massive damage and casualties; the glaciers start melting even faster, because fuck those polar bears; and the American economy hits an intense downturn. Now, that last one might sound normal, because it pretty much is but still. Just take a second to let how hard this facepalm is.

Has it sunk in yet?

Good.


"You have to be, the dumbest motherfucker I have met in my entire life. But okay, what do you have in mind for getting more coke?"

"I can't help but think you're asking sarcastically."

"No. I'm being completely serious right now."

"Okay. I think, I think I might know of a guy who deals 'round here. Problem is, he and I don't seem to get along very well. Or at all. That ain't important, what is important is that despite the issues there, I can get us his blow. We won't be buying it, that's for sure. But what can he do? Call the fuckin' cops? Nah, now all we need are a couple guns bigger than some Glocks. Preferably something we can keep close to us: no rifles or any of that shit, we don't wanna cause a ruckus. SMGs or something. We mow down a couple guards and steal the coke. Knowing his ass he probably keeps it on the guards."

"Or, we could just buy some coke."

"From who? That guy won't sell. Not to me anyway."

"He'll sell to me, right?"

"Not if I'm with you."

"I don't think you're getting this Luca: you don't need to be there for this deal."

"Oh, is that so? And what the fuck am I supposed to do while you're out?"

"I dunno, how about her?" Theo asks, pointing to the previously vomiting woman, wiping away the remnants from her lips with the collar of her shirt.

"And let you snort all the shit on the way back? Fuck that. You know anyone around here who sells blow? Doubt you'd run into my guy too."

“Fine, I got an idea.”

”Is it buy more blow? Because if it is that’s the best idea I’ve heard since you proposed it two minutes ago. No, seriously. Fuckin'. Brilliant.”

“No asshole, that’s not the idea. First we need to go back to the arena.”

”What? Why the fuck we gotta do that?”

“Remember the car that Tyrion crashed the other day?”

”The one that knocked over the rental shitter? Yeah what about it?”

“Well it’s a company car, which means it’s stocked with guns in it. Guns, vests, night vision goggles, even rope.”

”Oh shit! Night vision goggles? That's some real Splinter Cell, spy shit. But I don’t want to walk all the way back to the arena. Let’s get a cab.”

“You lazy mother fucker. The arena is right over there.” Theo points in the direction behind Luca, to show his powder brother that the arena is really only a block away. “You see, it’s really not that far at all.”

“How about you go and get the stuff and I’ll wait here, maybe go talk to that chica you pointed out.”

“Fuck that noise, I’m not lugging all that shit by myself. Or better yet, I’ll just take the whole car and go and get the blow myself.”

”And where you going to go and do that? You don’t know the guy, only I know the guy. He’s my guy.”

“Fine, let’s just get this over with.”


All told it takes about 25 minutes for the two to make it back to the SUV which, unsurprisingly enough is still pressed up against a porto potty after having mounted the curb. Thankfully it’s an armored vehicle otherwise there is a good chance that the doors would be missing and the windows smashed in. Once the duo arrive at the vehicle Theo opens up the back, punches in a 5 digit code as well as providing a thumb print identification code and then suddenly the floor on the back of the vehicle slides open revealing a variety of weapons from which the two can choose.


“All here, now, let’s go find this dealer of yours.”

“Ok, but first there’s something I gotta tell you.”

“What’s that? You miss Azrael?”

“What? No. Well yes, but no that’s not it. The guy, he’s a bit crazy.”

“Crazy like he’s the result of several years of inbreeding crazy or Charles Manson crazy.”

“Most definitely the latter. I wouldn't be surprised if he was the former too, but definitely the latter.”

“Fucking lovely. Well it’s good thing we will be armed to the teeth.”

”Hell yeah, we gonna do this Rainbow Six style.”


To be continued…