((Immediately following Wednesday Warfare in Liverpool, England, XWF’s own Steve Sayors caught up with “Loverboy” Vinnie Lane as he made his way backstage following the brutal loss to the Three Kings. Loverboy is obviously the worse for wear, as his shoulder, head and lip are all bleeding significantly, and he is walking with a noticeable limp.))

Sayors: Loverboy! Great match tonight against some of the toughest competitors the XWF has ever seen! Do you have a minute?

Loverboy: Do I have a minute? Sure, Steve, it’s not like I’m bruised and bloody all over and obviously in need of medical attention, I can spare a minute to tell you my feelings and shit, dude.

Sayors: Great! The match tonight, how do you feel after losing the Trios?

Loverboy: Did you go to school for this?

Sayors: Yes, actually.

Loverboy: You should give the diploma back, dude. How do I feel? How do I FEEL? I feel like I lost, and got my ass kicked. How would you feel? Those Trios Titles didn’t mean shit around here for the last year until I came along, and I made them matter again. Now I lost them. It’s square one.

Sayors: Where do you go from here?

Loverboy: Whichever way I want, man. I’m a former X-Treme Champion, I can make a go of that anytime I feel like it, or Morbid, Pete and I can claim our rematch against the Kings. Hysteria got himself on my shit list tonight, too, so maybe I’ll take the title I failed to get from Guppy away from him. What I’d really like to do, though, is fuck up Theo Pryce and be the next Universal Champion!

Sayors: Do you think you could beat Theo one on one??

Loverboy: Jesus, man… I obviously think I can, dude. Did you watch the match tonight? It took, like, ten guys for the Kings to win against the three of us, dude. Plus I’m still concussed from Monday. Pete had his ass dropped by the Doc earlier tonight, too, and we still put up more of a fight than anyone else in this locker room would have under those circumstances. Theo doesn’t want to fight me for his title because he knows he’ll lose, but I’ll go through his boy John Samuels and force his hand if I have to.

Sayors: So Samuels is your next target then?

Loverboy: Yeah dude, that’s my next match, you know?

Sayors: Well, no, Vinnie, actually you’re booked this weekend for John Black’s inaugural Shove It show!

Loverboy: I am?

Sayors: Yes! You and Shelby Cobra are facing off!

Loverboy: Shelby Cobra? How did that inflatable fuck toy get into the main event with me?

Sayors: Uh… about that, Loverboy, you’re actually the opener.

Loverboy: The opener? The fucking OPENER? I just beat Peter and Morbid Angel in a handicap match! I beat Griffin MacAlister inside a steel cage! I just had the match of the year against the Three Kings! Who the fuck is in the main event if it isn’t me?

Sayors: Well, after your match is Mick Manson against Harley Jack, and then the main event is Ghost Tank and Lucius Fyre in an electrified cage.

((Loverboy stops walking and looks at Steve Sayors with his mouth hanging open. He actually has to take a seat in a nearby folding chair to keep from fainting.))

Loverboy: That’s a joke, right? You’re kidding me?

Sayors: No, that’s the card.

Loverboy: Ghost Tank? The guy who just got dropped off the roof, right? The same guy Mastermind put to sleep like a puppy with parvo? That guy? The one whose biggest upcoming match is against fucking Calypso?

Sayors: Yeah… when you put it like that…

Loverboy: Did John Black smoke some of Tush’s bullshit before drawing this card up? Nobody’s going to watch that shit, man, they’ll tune in to watch me make balloon animals out of Shelby’s rubber tits and then they’ll switch channels to watch bowling or something. What a fucking idiot. Lucius Fyre and Harley Jack are two of the biggest jokes in this federation right now, man, what are they doing? Just giving Asylum members free wins? Did Frodo rape John Black and force him to book his friends like they were heroes?

Sayors: I… I don’t know the answer to that, Loverboy. I hope not.

Loverboy: I hope he did, dude, because if John Black actually thinks this is the sort of show people want to see, then he isn’t going to last very long booking shows. Maybe I should show him how to do it? Bring a little star power? At least when I host a show, people show up for it, you know? Well, not Maverick so much, but he’s basically just a breathing used condom anyway. His promos that week were actually the best he’s ever done.

Sayors: Okay, Loverboy, what are your final thoughts on the last week and for your upcoming opponent, Shelby Cobra?

Loverboy: I don’t give a shit about Shelby Cobra. I’ve already beaten her. She has nice tits, that’s all, and my girlfriend’s are better. I’d get a better fight out of facing Peter’s old ear, or one of Barney Green’s spit buckets. Actually, from some of the rumors I’ve heard, Shelby Cobra might have actually been one of Barney’s spit buckets. That cunt will do anything for a fifty dollar bill.

As far as my week – shit, man, has anyone in the XWF gone against the level of competition I have in a single week before me? I really doubt it. How many former champions did I go up against? Six? How many times was I pinned by any of them? None. Theo Pryce knows I’m coming for him, and he knows he’s got a limited amount of time to hold on to that belt, dude. I fully expect him and John Samuels to do anything they can to screw me on the contender’s match I’ll have coming up soon, just so he can sit on his narrow ass and not defend the title until he feels like it. Samuels is such a starstruck lapdog that he’ll go along with it, too.

No way, man. I’m the best hope the XWF has of having a new Universal Champion anytime soon, and I’m gonna do what needs to be done to make sure it happens. You watch, dude. Now, if you don’t mind, Steve, I think I need to get some stitches in my arm. If Hysteria’s fork came from Ghost Tank’s Waffle House plate, then I think I need to get a tetanus shot, too. See you later.

((Loverboy stands from the chair and shoves Sayors aside, then continues limping towards the medic room.))