[...............]

Christopher: What the fuck? Where am I? Where's the story? Where's the fuckin' setting and plot? Where's anything for that matter? Everything's so white and plain, I can't tell where anything or anyone is!

Dustin: HELLO?

Christopher: Who was that? There's someone else in this void?

Dustin: IS ANYONE ELSE OUT THERE?

Christopher: Holy shit, there is! HEY, DUDE, WHERE ARE YOU!?

Dustin: OVER HERE! TO YOUR WEST!

Christopher: West? Okay, so I'll head left.

THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP

Christopher: Fuck, am I even going anywhere? Everything looks the same to me. I wish there was some way for me to figure out if I'm going the right way.

POOF! CA-CHUNK!

Christopher:...How the hell did that happen? And where did that sign come from? Tsk. Whatever, I better read it so I can know where I'm going.

The Sign Said:You're going the right way! Keep going!

Christopher: Well that's helpful, I guess. I'll keep going then.

THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP

Christopher: Hey, I recognize that guy...Oh shit, it's Dustin! DUSTIN!

Dustin: Hey there Chris! It's been about a week, but at least we're finally back in front of a camera, huh brah?

Christopher: Yea, I guess so. The only problem is that I have no clue where the fuck we are.

Dustin: Me neither. What happened to Earth, by the way? One minute, I was in bed listening to Maiden, and the next I'm in this white void with no landmarks or anything.

Christopher: I'm just as clueless as you are, dude. Usually there's something here, like a story or a setting. I don't know why it's not here yet, if at all.

Dustin:...Dude, you don't think...?

[..............]

Christopher: Aw shit, the narrator's gone! No wonder everything's the way it is right now!

Dustin: What are we gonna do until he gets back!?

Christopher: I don't know, dude! We shouldn't even exist without him!

Dustin: Fucking shit, man. If only there was some way to make the world exist without him.

Christopher: Sorry man, I don't think there's anyway that can hap-

THUNK!

Christopher: SON OF A MOTHER FUCKER!

Dustin: What, did that paper ball hurt ya?

Christopher: Of course not, ya dickweed. I just hate it when people hit me when I'm not looking.

Dustin: Well you should pick it up anyways. It could be something that'll help us get out of here.

Christopher:Okay, okay, don't rush me.

The Paper Ball Said:Trash your opponents and I shall let you leave.

Dustin: Well that seems reasonable enou-

The Paper Ball Also Said:P.S. Since I know you haven't seen any of their shit, you have to do it blind.

Dustin: Shit.

Christopher: I mean, I guess I can do that. The worst that can happen is that I look like a fucking idiot. Hey brah, you remember the names of my opponents, yeah?

Dustin: I think so. Tommy Gunn, Dick E. Tickler, Hysteria, and some fourth guy who more than likely hasn't shown his face yet.

Christopher: Those three blasts from the past? Shit, I think I could take them easily. Wait, this is a tornado tag match, yeah? Who are my partners?

Dustin: Uh... Frodo, Tush, and Mason.

Christopher:...The only one I'm fine with is Mason. The rest of those guys I don't want any part with.

Dustin: Just talk trash, dude.

Christopher: Fine. So apparently, Tommy Gunn was a mercenary for the Heyman Alliance that used to be a thing in 2014 and 2015. Since Heyman pretty much fucked off, many members have left as well, pretty much admitting that their time was up. Gunn was one of those people. Was. From what I've heard, Tommy recently got fired from being a gym teacher because he couldn't do and couldn't teach. You had one chance to make yourself useful outside of the wrestling world and you fucked it up.

Now why should I, a man who doesn't need a gun to get the job done since twenty fifteen, listen to what you, a mercenary whose most recent acclaim to fame was losing to Vinnie Lane's group of roadies, has to say? Don't give me that "age equals wisdom" bullshit, I know that the smartest thing that you're going to say is call me a and how I'm going to suck my friend's dick some time in the near future. If that's what people call wisdom, then fucking Steve-O is a Mensa member. And don't give me that "because I can fuck you up easily" thing either, you couldn't get the job done against them and I'm sure as hell that you can't do a damn thing now.

Now what about you Dick? You're probably frustrated since ya can't tickle your own dick any more. Sad, I know, but ya can't go blaming people who weren't even in the fed at the time. Hell, that's the last thing you should do. Oh and since you're a drill sargent, I bet that you've called me a dickless pussy or a smelly fucking hobo while waiting for me. Even if I do reek of sweat and pheramones, that doesn't mean that I still can't kick your ass. What, are you hoping that'll discourage me? I've always stood up against "the man" against utter crap before, and I'm certainly not going to be discouraged by a former referee who speaks three octaves higher ever since your Little Richard was cut off.

And Hysteria? That guy was better off in a cult full of men that were clearly better than he was. Well, almost clearly better. Since your Doctor up and left town and your Asylum was burned down to nothing but rubble, the most you're good for nowadays is being the only human rorshach test in existence. Fortune never favored you since the start, did it Hissy? Hell, have you even managed to do anything even with your band of cronies? The most I've seen you do was square off against Defiance and nothing else. No title reigns, no major accomplishments, nothing.

Hey guys, I'd be willing to speak more, but I think it's about time for me to head home, so...yeah. Bye.

FWOOOOOOOOOSH!