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Just back from a long night out with friends, after a long day of training, and into his bed to tomorrow do it again... Gabe Reno looks tired, as if ready for a somber rest, but something within tells him that sleep may not be best. He walks to the kitchen, stumbling upright to stay, opens the fridge, and unimpressed looks over this way.
That was quite a night, seeing old pals, I wish I had taken home one of the gals. But distractions can be costly, when you're so focused in, on Where The Sun Don't Shine's big match will most definitely end. A simmer of torment, my God, such a long wait... why must we all prolong this debate? Winners are born, not made in one match, saviors can lift us, but only with time, on do they catch. To the victor go the spoils, of XWF gold, around someone's waist... and shove's them into the Title fold. With a smirk and a whisper, I can tell you how, 'The Radical' will be the winner that the savior's can't live without. Prophecies are made when potent words are used, in the same light as courage, and in the same den as few. Walk in that place, to become something better, you'll feel the weight lift off of your shoulders, and be light as a feather. Simple the scripture of all religious books, they tell the same story, all you have to do is look. Read between the lines, no matter what dialect, soak up the end of times, even if it is said to be barbaric. Because the entrance ramp beckons, and you must all answer, not to your God, but to your new fucking master. Your chins will be raised ever so high, in the ambiance of my echo, and dipped into the glow of my light. "Pretty" will be all you have left to say, when the vision of me with the Championship inevitably takes yours away.
He walks back to the bedroom, little coffee with a full plate on his agenda... lays his head down and says "shit" when he remembers he forgot the splenda. Giving up on the drink to keep him awake much more, his eyes grow heavy... as his dreams take the floor.
-------------------
Gabe clearly does not realize, the promo he schedule for today to cut his opponents down to size, has started... hear him singing in the shower the equipment guys decide, that this could pure gold and go live.
I can feel it closing in, the end in sight... hold onnn! I've been waiting for this moment for all my life... hold onnn! When I see them comin', I'll unsheath my left and right... hold onnn! Ohhh baby... hold onnnnn! Mmmmm. OH! HOLD ON BITCHES!
The camera zooms in on his blue shower cap, the curtain closed, but his ducky on the floor mat.
Caaaaaan you feel the beatings tonigghhttt... can you feel them nowwwww... it is where Chris Chaos belongs. It's enough... for this wiiiddeeee eyyeeddd wonndeerreerr... to be defeated when he's had enoouugghh.
Gabe turns and see's the camera crew, jumping back then realizing he missed their appointment at two.
Ohhhhh SHIT! Okay guys way to get the drop, let me throw on a towel so we can talk shop.
The camera zooms out as his naked ass is seen, the shot weirdly focuses in as he notices and calls the camera a homo with gleam. A few minutes pass, the shot now a new rise, Gabe sits in a chair at his kitchen table ready to surmise. The camera asks questions from behind the camera that cannot be listened to, Gabe responds one at a time about all the things the XWF Online Universe asks him to.
How do I shape my game, and which wrestlers is it after? Is that the matter? Okay, well let me start by saying that I try my best to be unique, no one wants to act like Dolly Waters with cold feet. But, I would say the people who influenced me most in this arena, are The Hitman, The Taker, maybe Brock, and I try to be the exact opposite of John Cena. Overall I would have to admit that I am special type, when the lights go up and Gator tucks his tail between his legs, I choose to embrace the hype.
The next question he hears while placing some earphones in, the interviewer asks to what he has on his playlist just then.
Oh, this old thing? I like a bit of variety when I get amped up to get into the ring. Sometimes I like Smooth Jazz, or Rock N' fuckin' Roll, other times sad songs do it, because it reminds me that Kurt Angle is still an asshole. Then there are moments when a solid country song hits the spot, I think of Jakob Davis and Mr.F'n Dominance, claiming to be the type of talent that they are clearly not. But my secret stash, the one who really gets me going, is Eminem talking about cleaning out his closet, because it's exactly what Bearded War Pig does when he finishes bearded towing.
A few more questions from fans but time is running out, because of his tardiness to let the crew in and another commitment coming about.
What was that? Do I envision myself winning the X-Treme Championship belt? Well, that one is easy, when you are prepared for whatever can be dealt. The trash talk flies when you get into matches like these, real competitors always resist change, so you have to bring them to their knees. Slave knows what I mean, you see, he was a peasant of sorts... and Jimmy was his master, until Jim realized the filthy follower gave him genital warts. But hey, you know what, we all make mistakes... even Peter Gilmour when he let Eliza Thorne spray him with mace. No means no, you stubborn old fool, don't assume everyone is interested just because Ravenwolf let you in her back stool. Of course, I see myself as the one walking out glorious, have you seen how long it has been since Jose Gomez was victorious?
One last tidbit and then the interview would end, making it a good one the cameraman tightened his lens.
I don't know if I would go as far to make guarantee's, but know one truth, there is nothing that can happen in this match that will discourage me. Whether rain or shine, no matter where things get shoved and into whom, at the top of XWF there will still be Radical room. It may be harsh, there maybe ambulance's on standby in case there's such a pity, but at the end of the match, Gabe Reno will still be pretty. BITCH.
He gets up and throws his hands into a familiar symbol, thanking the crew for their time, as they exit the so nimble. A second or two, then a knocking hard tone, Gabe grabs his keys to get going, just as over his head a bag is thrown.
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Gabe Reno looks up, barely able to lift his tired face, tied to a chair in some kind of office place. Regaining consciousness slowly, he looks next to him at another person, a black bag over their head moaning. In another room murmuring is heard then a shout, as a disagreement occurs and shots ring throughout. Stomping down to the room in which Gabe sits, the main contributor holds the gun to Gabe's nose, guess this is it. Reno closes his eyes for the tender ride, as the gunman switches aim to the man next to him and pulls a goodbye. He takes a glowing wand out of a silver case, looks at it smiling, then tries to escape. Bloody brains spewing out the back of the bag and sticking to the wall. Gabe opens his eyelids, and decides that now is the time if he's going to live at all. Barking follows as one man releases a hound, Gabe clinches at first, then flings the mutt out the side window abound. Rising to his feet to regain some sanity, another man runs in as he picks up a pool ball and nails him in sudden calamity. Reno looks down, cleansing his dog bite with a tin, then punches the man who was moving again. Out to the hall he encounters another, using the fellows own knife to turn it and stab him in the jugular. On his way out of this kidnapped henchman swell, Gabe wonders to himself if this could be Shove-It hell.
The fuck kind of men are these, is this what the battle royal will be like when they try to kill me as a tease? Taking me from my comfort zone, a place I knew too well, late to a meeting but the punishment is to be held? I won't give in, and I will destroy and conquer, each and every person who thinks me surviving this ordeal is bonkers.
Flinging the next run-in over and taking his weapon, Gabe cocks that shit and unloads on two who are misstepin'. Turning to pistol whip another, then smacking him back, a few more rounds when under attack. 'The Radical' finds the stairs and starts to fly down, the second turn in... he kung-fu kicks another bitch who makes a painful sound. Down to the bottom as fast as he can, a head sticks out a crevice, under Gabe smashes it back in. He turns to his right and see's a cigarette being lit, a flood of other henchman come in behind a gray haired version of Kitt. Escaping knowing his odds and using his brain, Reno avoids another by climbing up into a building vein.
The vent so cool with every gust of air, if only I could stop to enjoy it, without getting chased by Dolly's many men waiting for an age to pluck her fair and square. This is fucking insane, how could there be this many, I haven't seen this type of harassment since the last time Nico Lavey lost a daytime Emmy. Well I guess this is what I should prepare for, the fight of my life, even if it is Slave poor.
Getting through and landing, kicking the chair out from beneath another thug, Reno sees the light of day just above. Moving like there is no tomorrow, he picks up a dropped pistol, firing three holes into men approaching until hollow. Jumping out onto one of their warm bodies, he fires at another man, as a car speeds up filled with men even more gaudy. A vertical leap over, and shots fired into the rear window, Gabe recounts to himself why this situation is like Nintendo.
I don't think I have ever jumped so high, must be the adrenaline causing my extra height, like on Eliza Thorne's prom night. She must've been nervous with all of that anticipation, until two seconds later, Gator chomped on her good vibrations. Wait, didn't he also give Chris Chaos a ride to the dance, but then Chaos bailed in tears after he realized that you couldn't bring a date that was just another name for your hand? Maybe I should focus on these armed gunmen, they seem so persistent, could Robbie Bourbon have shunned them all with such resentment? He does that a lot, as the rumors go backstage, but the nastiest one I overheard was that War Pig's curtains match his drapes.
Gabe flips over the hood and fires several times, the car spins out of control, while he takes shots at a second vehicle that had arrived. Looking down the chamber and opening the drivers door, he pulls out a limp body, and takes the car for a stroll. Kicking out the spider cracked windshield to see clearly ahead, the chase becoming high speed, through allies of brick red. A swift right, then gunshots back to the left, the SUV to the side slows down with the driver likely dead. A sedan speeds off now up in front, Gabe unloads more rounds, then mounts the hood to get closer to the next unruly cunt. In through the back and sliding behind to shoot, a struggle for the drivers gun ensues, then he tuck and rolls with Reno soon in pursuit. Hitting the ground and getting up in a hurry, the car crashes then explodes, in quite an unlucky flurry. After his culprit, up a ladder to a roof, another car cuts Gabe off, but he outsmarts that one too. Up a pulley, and sprinting even faster, the misdirection leads him into the bosom of gorgeous laughter. A gaze and a smack for staring too long, back on his horse to fuck up the man with the magic wand. They run fighting before eventually falling through, getting the relic wet, sending them to a yard with war planes to look through. Pushing and pulling the icon glows, transporting Gabe to somewhere where it snows. Reno uses the ice to make it work again, ending up in some kind of nursery, with the endless battling henchman. They scratch and claw until Gabe eventually uses the item's silver case, to bash the man in the head until blood poors from his face. The wand rolls left to the hands of a child, Gabe reaches to protect him, but the baby puts the wand in his mouth. Off the lala land somewhere, presumably the infant goes, Gabe left to fight his other Shove-It foes.
Such an epic war, how can I have survived... oh, now I remember, I know how to fucking fight. Whether two hundred men or maybe just nineteen people, the favor still glows within me, to make their efforts feeble. Sick or deranged, some of you may be, but there is no word to describe what I am when you're the one I am facing. A tuck, a bend, a little wand-ly magic, I will maneuver your careers into a place more tragic. A new guy enters and wins the whole things, you know, the ways that sounds, I kind of like the ring. What a tale of such a great brawl, when you all showed up to fuss, and I took it all. Lessons are learned in the face of great peril, and satisfaction only lasts until you bitches are sterile.
<<<<<
Rising from a deep sleep, and looking at the clock, Gabe checks for his phone but it isn't in its spot. He gets up shuffling to the kitchen, checking countertops where he was so sleepy from his all-night mission. It could be anywhere on anything nearby, damn he's not as sharp when he drinks whiskey in nines. Just then hearing buttons being pushed and some 'cooing', he enters the living room and sees the same baby on his phone chewing. The wand lays beside, the one from the dream, Gabe picks it up and disappears from the scene. Opening to a new vision where he holds the X-Treme Championship and wand, in it his theme music plays on and on... he gathers and realizes the future is him at his best, whether his opponents were smoked, had their permission's fucked, or went back to the old XWF West. No matter the venue or how many merry gifts cured greedy itches... Gabe is still pretty, and your all still just BITCHES.
![[Image: 4H375RW.png?6]](http://i.imgur.com/4H375RW.png?6)
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