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RADICAL || THEGIFT [3/5]
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R A D I C A L
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#1
11-03-2016, 12:40 AM

RADICAL/THEGIFT/XWF#005



>>>>>

'The Radical' Gabe Reno now enters your world.
-- because gifts are made for giving, to every battle royal boy, and girl.

With the dark holiday behind us now and thanks soon to be given, it reminds me of how Christmas has come early... and of the gifts I need to invested in. With so many people taking up locker spots in back, I didn't want to just fill stalkings with candy, but enough cheer for their entire sacks. How, you may ask will I afford such a merry feat, it's simple my friend, I got a bonus for ending Slave's last wet dream. This could get up there in funds to be spent, but it should all be worth it when on their faces I see utter torment. Holly is the word that makes us all sing, unless we are surrounded by fire in a battle royal when the bell rings. Well things to do, and creativity to find, I don't want to be the last out in the blizzard and get left snow blind. Cash in hand, and not believing in gift card limits... each one of my special opponents deserves their own unique touch of a 'Radical' Christmas.



New York City >>

-- Massive ladders on both sides of a street in NYC line the sidewalk as city workers decorate for a reason. In festive hats, green or red vests, and candy canes to chew on mounting merry reminders of the coming season. On a freezing night where cold breath leaves a trail, the crowd gathers together for a tradition to unveil. Rockefeller Plaza, host to a gigantic crane, lifting the largest tree the child eyes watching had ever seen... wishing that under were equally large presents with their name. The ornaments of all sizes decked the special occasion, some of the workers even invited a few special tots to assist, but not those that were brazen. All the colors of Christmas began to appear, the signs were all up, now the wait long for reindeer. Snow droplets fell from the sky up above, parents closed their coats, and hugged their children with love. So many wonderful things about the holidays, even in XWF, where to fight motherfuckers we get paid. A few of the leftover kids away from their moms and dads, looked up at the tree, imagining how many bristles it had.

Boy
Wow... look at it, would you?

Girl
I have never seen any tree grow that big! Where do you think it came from?

Boy
I don't know, but I'm sure glad it's here.

Girl
Me too!

An adult voice beckons from out of site, the children respond together, first taking one last look at the tree while the workers turn on the lights.

Girl/Boy
COMING!
COMING!



A scroll up the magnificant tree, enormous in stature, in the home of the free and thereafter. Back down to where the children had stood, a man in a black jacket ponders, under a dark hood. The shot pans around him, his eyes in a haze, locked in on the tree erected, as if lost in a memory of prior days. Near his feet a large sack, like the one Clause carries, filled with jagged shapes and the mystery of any. Picking it up he walked down the avenue with a jovial bell rattle, knowing that he got perfect gifts for all recipients of the battle.

Narration

It's funny, ya know? The way life changes, how you grow older, and all you know rearranges. People that come and go from your life, holidays speed by, ever moving things happen, and you can be left to wonder why. Then in these seconds, though they are few, you recall the sweetest things, and you smile because they're still true. Your fathers aftershave, or your mothers perfume, I can smell it now, just like when I was in the room. When I learned to shave, or cook just right, when my sister and I ditched class, or when I won my first fight. Changing my first tire thinking it was quite a disaster, when my first child was born, or all the inevitable joys that came after. The wedding day that seemed like it could never end, a honeymoon so special, or the years until my wife suddenly met her end. This time of year is one to remind us, that things have been better, but that worse days can still find us. In the fortunate sense, all who make a good living should sigh, able to buy presents and pretend to hear Santa fly.

A slight ringing of sleighbells and a jolly "Ho-Ho-Ho" can be heard in the background, as a scroll begins fading in and out while he speaks about each item he found. Every time he stops, thinking of where in the bag he left them, then continues on walking whistling a jingle from way back-when.

With all that in mind I took it upon myself, made heavy promises internally, ones that by my opponents would surely be felt. Gifts for each one, but where to begin? Nineteen things to be meaningful, so I started to write down ideas for each with a pen. Number one, Hunter Payne... a worthy foe, what would he need and appreciate to be merry or play in the snow? I thought long and hard about everything I know. Eventually arriving at a pocket watch with his name engraved for the show. A little phrase, I'm sure he will wear on his belt or above, it reads "Don't push a man just because they are what you love". Number two, this was simple when I considered all the knick-knacks, for Mr.F'n Dominance and the conundrum of his name with facts. Dominance is a word that he doesn't seem to understand how to provide, so his present was a dictionary from Oxford, to learn how to describe. Dominant people usually win at all costs, but his last few matches I saw, whether he won or not seemed like a loss. Beating the jobbers and lowest of kin, will not endear Santa to bring Dom this win. No, it would take an army, one not of toys... but of real wielding creatures that scare little boys. Opening your mouth is easy, when out comes thorough trash, not everyone he faces will be susceptible to smoking the hash. Giving up his efforts, the smart thing to do... because on a night like we will all have, the others will see the truth. In torment and flame "dominant" screams will not be mended, his hand will not be slapped, nor will he be commended. In every sense of the word, and sense he may not see, the best outcome for him will be to saty coherent long enough to watch my victory. A moment in time, to say you were there, like a fine wine... he'll see real dominance if he stares. The third was less polite, though admirable in every right, gifting can be hard but my aim is never black and white. Robbie Bourbon, when I thought of him, I remembered when I signed and saw Rob in the hallway with other strong men. So fit and ready to take on all comers, a lasting impression, but his eyes said that he was a runner. See, failure is clear when you have faced it before, and many times I have watched strong men hit the floor. Bourbon speaks well, and throws a little shade, but the weakness with which he delivers makes him hesitate. This match is different, because sometimes even on your worst day, in a singles match you can make it, though without your best in every way. This many of us, would serve to expose that purpose, so I bought Robbie some new direction, and XWF branded compass. Now he will know where he is going and what to not bring, because Where The Sun Don't Shine was never that place, even for an alcoholic to sing. Fourth but not least, and least but fourth, was a Bearded War Pig that smells a little like a corpse. BWP, so many things hit me, things I could make or buy at the local thrift would be nifty. But I have to give a pat, to myself on the back, I found a junkyard with a huge ornament unpacked. They told me it was painted, the festive wrecking ball... but I just knew when he saw it, he'd dress as Santa and give a gift to us all. He'd ride on it to and from the show without separation, show it how he cared, and defile it with fornication. Because we all know that for him to get by, he would have to win this match over my dead body, when pigs fucking fly.

His arms getting tired he stops at a hot cocoa stand, accepting good cheer, then tipping the man. A smile lighting the screen, with good tidings he intends to bring, his face is of joy in a moment of being redeemed. He pulls up the bag and begins on his way, waving at those, who flip him off for crossing the walk, jay.


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Getting to a large building he looks up into the night. His stop is above him, but how can that be when the bag is not light? Shaking his head but keeping his Christmas glow, Gabe begins up the stairwell, because the elevator was a no go. Huffing and puffing, he reaches a landing, hands on his hips breathing, he continues standing.

The fifth gift was another real tough-y for me, because Dolly Waters is too young to get booze from my last sex party. Now with patience I sat and really gave it deep thought, what could I do for Dolly that is fun, but then I realized, she is not. Dolly is the kind of girl who you bring home as a teen, she bosses you around, and then your parents give you grief. You know, the kind that ends up in the depths of skid row, selling herself to beggars, for another hit of the boiled blow. She talks fast and thinks that her challenges will fade, but this may be the last time that looking past her matches will not keep her "shaved". By the way, the lisp on her words is so cute, speech therapy is expensive, so Dolly, I got you two. Now study up and learn all the pronunciation there is to know, you only have until Shove-It before you lose a few baby teeth and must wait to grow. Number six was a blessing, one that brought me holiday cheer, imagining Eliza Thorne pulling a sled as an uglier reindeer. Her nose would be bright with blush from her embarrassment of being whipped in the behind, from promising to win so many times that Santa, in the North Pole barn, would need to have her euthanized. Eliza, don't worry girl, I got it boo, a special vampire gun that Ole St.Nick cannot see through. So when he straps you in and commands you and your twin-sies on, halt the sleigh and turn before he punishes those red buns. Seven was on my list at least twice, so I thought double the gifts would be, you know, twice as nice... Peter Gilmour was the name after the men under "mice". Peter is an old wily veteran wrestler, he has been in the game so long that they call him Uncle Fester. For someone so tenured and needing multiple items, I turned to amazon and got him not one, but two used condoms. The idea here was pure, I swear on my life, it wasn't so Peter would be safe though, it was for the other man plugging his wife(uhmm, Slave). It was the thought that counted there most, because Peter cannot walk with a hand left to throw, when I toss him into a pile, with all of my other past woes. Boy, this was getting a lot pricier than I originally thought, so two birds with one stone became needed to save for my annual Christmas shock. This time I went cheaper, for eight and nine, so they could both open their presents at the same fucking time! Since their names both start with "C" I thought it would be adorable to find, Chaos and Calypso two inexpensive shelter dogs that had seen their primes. A warm furry companion seemed to be just what those two need, something with better breath than themselves with which to breathe. Ten was, I must say, the gem of the bunch... we all know my affection for Isabella Ravenwolf's shoulder hunch. I think it reminds me of being a kid and seeing Igore told, you know, in the one with Frankenstein that makes Ravenwolf use a barbed dildo. Neither here nor there, her present was wrapped, it was along shiny sword so that she could finally cut that ridiculous last name in half.

Finally able to proceed up the steps, forty more flights in the stairwell, as signs pass his head. He whistles again knowing the payoff will be worth it, even if only to deliver the final present, his will is to do it. Gabe, step by step, endures all the way, a champion to be, but that's for another day.


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Reaching the top steps of the place he intends to be, Gabe reaches into his pocket and sips on a flask filled with more jolly. He guzzles for a second, then puts it away, smiles and checks his teeth in the reflection of the door plate. He reaches down into the bag and pulls out a long gift, he holds it close to his legs and knocks on the door hoping they'll open it.

Onto the special, over the top ones... the delightful gifts and the enormous last pun. What can you give the man who has it all, championships to fill a room, and Olympic medals that he won in awe. Well I hope he will be satisfied with this, I know he is getting older, so I thought depends might give him a lift. Those belly to backs look painful when you raise people up, sometimes I fear you'll fall and never get back up. Life alert was on special, a coupon for elderly men, K-Mart had them on sale if you buy ten, so I threw it in. How many is that now, oh, that's right, just about eleven. Maybe when this match is done Kurt will go to Olympic heaven. Twelve is the number, and one that marks a dozen, James Ellsworth was the name I crossed off here to re-gift some old muffins. Thirteen is a baker's, why do they call it that? Because they make extra pastries and use flour like cocaine wraps? Regardless, I must say that it was a "beaut", the gift was spot on, I got Kitt Kennedy a flute. I realized his head may still be a bit too fragile, but when he's ready to blow, it can accompany him where he travels! Fourteen... I had to fight an old woman for, she wouldn't give it up, no matter how much cash I offered to pour. They were real handcuffs, antiques of the civil war, I thought Slave would enjoy wearing them but that woman was a boar. I settled for shackles, it was a near miss, but the woman said the cuffs were for her sidepiece Jakob Davis. Jakob, you dirty dog, how dare you break all natural laws. I guess that's not fair, I should be more supportive, like her bra from the 50's, you know, she told me you wore it? One, five, just a few more presents left to discuss, Jamaican Jimmy had asked me to get him something without fuss. So what could I do, but oblige, I got him a Donald Trump mask so he could go out in broad daylight. Hey now, I know what you're thinkin', I wasn't talking about that, he's just sensitive about his penis. Sixteen was interesting, quite the experiment, Jose Gomez is hard to shop for so I got him a pass to the Spearmint. Not the strip club, oh no I didn't go that far, but I did get him a Rhino and left it on top of his car. Kicking and screaming, seventeen was a mess... Nico LaVey needed a merry marvel to be at his best. So I ordered an Eatable Arrangement filled with delicious different types, of shit from different animals, they called it "You can't win this fight". Eighteen a doozy, trust me when I say, that trying to take those handcuffs was a shame... but I learned my lesson and had to recalibrate, because what will Jakob enjoy more than Ghost Tank's dead manager on his boiler grates. And finally, the one, my special ultimate baddy, the man named after a reptile and who ignores evolution like the cops that beat Rodney. Listen up, Gator, I've got quite a treat, pull the bow, and open up them Gator teeth.

Another knock on the door, the bell doesn't seem to be working, Gabe moves his hands as though something is jerking. The nameplate reading "Gator" finally open swings, Gabe smiles ear to ear, and asks the man if he will be accepting. Opening the bow and taking off the lid, the man is stunned to see something so big.

<<<<<



So in case you didn't enjoy my Christmas carol this year, let me leave you with a few thoughts that will dry up your tears. A champion will be born, not rebred, or awarded... I will raise my hand because I will not stop until your glory is shorted. Squirm and fight the facts as they are, whine to your wife-y, until you realize just how far. I am the heir to the thrown, and when that vacated X-Treme Championship is mine to own, I will be a fighting champion to any who is shown. Wrestle away my passion on another day, because none of the 19 of you motherfuckers will get in my fucking way. If I have to chop down your knees, if I have to make you bleed, if hell freezes over on THAT NIGHT and Satan rises to say I am who he needs... I WILL BEAT YOU FIRST. I WILL STAND LAST. I WILL WIN THIS MATCH, AND IN MY SHADOW 19 WILL BE CAST. I know, I know, I can lay it on thick, and oh, by the way, yes, that was my dick. BITCH.


END.

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