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**Vincent Lane** · (02-19-2016)

In a wooded area in the dark of night, “Loverboy” Vinnie Lane stands in the misty headlight beams of an idling blue Prius, holding a shovel and standing next to a plastic garbage bag that seems a little more than half full.

Loverboy lets out a tired breath and runs a forearm across his sweaty brow as he takes a break from digging. The hole in front of him is barely three feet deep, but it’s pretty much good enough.

He leans on his shovel and pulls out his cell phone to reassure his beloved fiancée that he’ll be back ‘from a late night gym session’ sooner than later, and that yes, he’ll stop at the 24 hour pharmacy to pick her up some more hair spray, and also that yes, he’s totally sorry for using all of her hair spray.

Just after hitting send and before he can dig the shovel into the dark soil again, the phone pings with an alert. A new XWF promo has been uploaded to the site! The app was already paying dividends – as was the decision to stop using that shitty Windows Phone and get onto something capable of using the best apps, just like Roxy told him.

“Oh shit, Yung Fern decided to grace us all with his presence.”

Loverboy pulls up the promo and is immediately attacked with an epileptic array of bells and whistles, colors flashing around like lasers at a Pink Floyd show.

“Jesus Christ, ‘Nando, did you post this thing on a Geocities website from 1998? Holy shit, it’s like a pocket sized disco. I’m not watching all of this, I’ll get hypnotized into accidental erections every time Luca shows up. Cortana?”

WHO?

The phone does not sound pleased.

“My bad. I meant Siri. Siri, recite me the kid’s promo, but just the part where he talks. Skip the gay shit, if it’s possible.”

SKIPPING THE GAY SHIT.

Loverboy decides to do the world a favor and plugs in some earbuds, then listens to the promo in its entirety while smiling and shaking his head. He laughs as he pulls the buds out of his ears, but then the bag on the ground jumps up and starts screaming.

“AAAAAAAH!”

“AAAAH WHAT THE FUCK!?”

“HELP ME! HELP ME!”

THWACK.

Loverboy flattens the bag again with a swift smack from his shovel. Amazingly though, the bag slowly starts crawling away, although moaning and groaning in obvious pain, and with a small puddle of blood forming under the black plastic.

“Oh, shit, my bad little dude… you okay in there, man? This was all a big misunderstanding…”

“UhhhhuhHHHHhhHHHhhhh…”

“Shit shit shit. I

him. Fuck me, man, I broke the little bastard’s brain. I gotta think… think, Loverboy, think… what’s the humane thing to do here…”

“UhhhHhhHhHhHhhhhhhhhhUhhhhhhHHHhhhh…”

“I’ve got no choice.”

Loverboy lifts the shovel high over his head and closes his eyes, and the scene snaps to black.

When the darkness gives way to a scene again, it’s of Loverboy sitting in the open hatchback of the Prius, smoking a cigarette while staring off at a small mound of dirt behind the car. He tosses the butt into the ground and blows out a long stream of smoke, the holds his cell phone screen up for the camera to see.

"Hey guys, check it out. Luca Arzegotti already fulfilled his 2016 quota for wrestling matches and he’s gonna get ahead of the curve for 2017 by having a second. Good for you, man, good for you. But to pump yourself up like you are your own sex doll by saying Austin Fernando is your second coming? Dude, that’s only true when you move from his ass to his mouth in the same day.

Yeah, that’s right, I made a queer joke. You don’t like it then stop making it so fucking easy, Luca. Start by not calling yourself a queen everywhere you go, then follow it up by not trying so hard to fellate Fernando with every word out of your mouth.

The fact of the matter, Luca, and I think you already know this, is that Austin Fernando showed up for his tryout match better than you. Everyone here knew he was raw as fuck but still destined for greatness, it’s not like you spilled a secret or anything, dude. He’ll be the champion someday, sure, just whenever I decide not to be anymore. And it’s not that he’s incapable of beating me, the way most are. Oh no, man, Fernando can beat me… he just won’t ever know how.

I don’t want to turn this into any more of a circle jerk than it already has to be any time Fernzegotti are involved – there’s another gay joke for you, Luca. That one’s on the house - but Austin Fernando I honestly have a lot of respect for, dude. I’ll tell you why.

See, Fernando came into the XWF a little wiseass punk with a hot dog cart, and immediately tried to attach himself to the best mentors he could. He started with Frodo, why I’ll never know, but he quickly got off of that train when he barely squeezed through his debut match without getting immediately knocked out by Duncan B. Deadly. He was gonna be an Underground guy. He was gonna be a Heyman guy. He was gonna be a Defiance guy. But you know what, dude? To his credit, every time he turned his back on whatever sucker had taken him in, he got a little better. He started beating guys he had been losing to. I still remember when he upset Frodo in the Intercontinental Tournament a year or so back. The look on the midget’s face was priceless, man.

But don’t get it twisted, dude. Austin was still learning. He was hitching his wagon up to anyone he could find in an effort to learn, and yeah, I can respect that. Especially since he eventually landed on the best mentor you could ever ask to have – “Loverboy” Vinnie Lane. See, if there’s any sort of vestige of the CCWF left, and I’m not if there is since Shane

apparently took his potato and went home, then it would be Fernando and myself. I’m the one who brought him into the fold, and it’s what turned him into the guy who couldn’t ever win the big one into the double champion you see today. I toughened him up a year ago by teaching him how to lose, and then I toughened him up some more by honing those rough edges, those god given talents that Luca was squirting over in his promo, and I gave him focus. Direction.

That’s all he ever needed, dude. He was always a loaded gun, man, but he had no one to aim him. I pointed him at the sky and now he’s a fuckin’ rocket, leaving a trail of fire like a comet. You can say I taught him everything he knows, dude…

… but not everything I know.

See, there’s one constant in Fernando’s career. As much as he’s wanted to be me, and who can blame him there, he’s never been able to BEAT me. Oh, sure, he’ll probably be the first one to point out that meaningless Rumble that he admittedly tossed me from. That’s valid, I guess. But he won’t mention how he got tossed about ten seconds after I did, and that the next day all that anyone could talk about was my iron man performance in the ring that night. Over an hour in that match, man, and it became part of my legend even though I didn’t win. It was a direct lead-in to my eventual Universal Title victory. And who was always one step behind me on that journey? My little padawan, Austin Fernando. He tried to recreate my matches any way he could. He beat guys like Mastermind and Cain, though not nearly as spectacularly as I did. He went right after D’Ville when he had a chance, though again, he fell short where I followed through. He even had a bit of a friendly feud with a rival of mine, his own dom daddy Justin Sane… but again, whereas I as able to leap that hurdle, Fernando never was.

Oh, he had his shots, don’t get me wrong. Austin isn’t stupid, I’ll never say otherwise. He knew the best way to get a spotlight on him was to bask in mine. He got himself a match booked against me and my buddy Johnny Heartsford before the ink was even dry on his Heyman Guy contract. And that’s when he learned a lesson that he has definitely taken to heart. He said so himself earlier – Loverboy never beat him fairly. He’s right. There was always a shortcut, wasn’t there? There was always a cheap shot or something tipping the scales in my favor. Why? Because I’m smart enough and I’m good enough to make sure of it, that’s why. He’ll never stop pointing out that I didn’t ever pin him, even in the same desperate breath as he tries to run Bourbon down for saying the same type of things. But the fact of the matter is, dude, I may never have beaten him fairly – but he’s never beaten me AT ALL.

Where was Fernando when I took the duke in that tag match? Where was he when I won the HART Title? Unconscious, on the floor, underneath me. That’s why it cracked me up hear him go on and on about Bourbon being second best. He’s not wrong when he says that stuff, obviously, he backed it up and everything. Yeah, Bourbon’s the second best on my team. Natch. But it’s just the insecurity Fernando can’t hide with every squeak and crack of his voice in these uploads of his. Fernando knows that as good as he is, and he’s god damn good, he’ll never be any more than second place as long as I’m around. He’s in a tough place, that kid. Without me he’d have never been an X-Treme or Tag Champion… but with me? He’ll never be the Universal Champion either.

So Austin, man, I give you props for showing gigantic balls by even mentioning a match against me with your career on the line… but the answer’s always going to be no. I couldn’t do that to you, man. I can’t end a career of someone who’s barely old enough to drink a beer. Not when you just started to put it all together, dude. You’ll see why, again, at this Shove-It. You’ll see by falling short, by coming in second AGAIN, that you’re still not ready for that little braid to get cut off just yet, dude. As much as it stings, I’ve got to remind you of your limits. I’ve got to remind you that there’s only one Megastar in this universe, and that he’s already got the gold to prove it.

We’re still gonna be friends, man, and I’ll still help you up after I knock you down, but for you to ever learn how to be the best you can be, you first have to learn to know your limitations. You’re the Scotty Pippen, dude. I’m the Human Poster. Someday, when I’m done and just content to retire and live off of my promotional earnings and make a bunch of 500 dollar sneakers or whatever, then you’ll have your time to shine. And you’ll be ready. Because you’ll have gotten all of me that there is to be had. But for now? You’re still too green. Your selfie game is still too weak. Your social media is too barren. You’re just not ready to harvest, dude! Soon, though.

But I always believed in you, kid. I always knew you were more than a young dude who just couldn’t get it done no matter how hard he tried or how bad he wanted to be Loverboy Part Two.

Remember that."

Fade out.

Special Over 2000 Word Bonus!

John Madison loves to touch little boys on their bums!

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