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~~Brandon Moore~~ · (12-22-2016)

XWF is headed to Bethlehem, PA! About four hours out, though, is where the real party is happening. It's the night before Savage Saturday and Brandon Moore has decided to lag a bit behind. He's in Pittsburgh, daddio! Brandon's a fan of all the major sports except basketball. Fuck basketball. He's a Colorado Avalanche fan, but he scored some tickets to the Penguins versus the New Jersey Devils. He definitely isn't going to pass up causing some trouble at a hockey game. Brandon and the rest of the hockey fans are piling into the PPG Paints Arena. He's got decent seats, five rows behind the glass, center ice, in the center of the row. It's the night before Christmas Eve so it's easy to understand there are a handful of empty seats in the house. The good news is that one whole side of his row is completely empty. The bad news? Starting with the seat next to him, the entire other side of his row is filled with chubby hockey loving flesh. Brandon ate before the game so no need for refreshments. He's just here to enjoy some hockey before he finishes the journey to Behlehem for Savage Saturday Night against Isabella Ravenwolf. Unfortunately for everyone, the man next to Brandon recognizes him. Great.

-Hockey Fan-
“No way. You're Brandon Moore! You just won the Federweight Championship in XWF, right?! Please tell me I'm not seeing things!”

-Brandon Moore-
“Fuck. No, you're not seeing things. Behold. Just Plain Better right before your eyes. Just here to enjoy the hockey game.”

-Hockey Fan-
“Oh, yeah, me too! I totally understand. We're leaving early tomorrow, heading to Bethlehem for Savage Saturday Night! Are you going to be there?”

-Brandon Moore-
“I'm on my way there tomorrow morning, too. They've got me in a fucking X-treme rules match against Isabella Ravenwolf. They sure want me to beat up women.”

-Hockey Fan-
“You've got Ravenwolf?! She's craaaazy! Crazy hot, too!”

The fan starts to eat his pretzel, dipping it in mustard. Brandon hates mustard.

-Hockey Fan-
“But you're gonna be fine. You're the Federweight Champion! You're mean as hell. I'm sure you'll have no problem tossin' another woman around the ring. Got any plans with Havoc for the show?”

Saved by the flag. It's time for the National Anthem. Brandon is able to ignore the questions. He's been working on his anger and it seems to be working thus far. A month ago and he would've already pulled this guy's tongue out and wrapped it around his neck to strangle him. The Star Spangled Banner begins to play as the entire stadium stands at attention. Brandon places one arm behind his back and his right hand over his heart. He might hate a lot of things, but he fucking loves America. As the applause hits for the old man quartet finishing up their singing, the teams set up for the puck drop. You wouldn't be able to tell that it was a slow night at the way the crowd sounded. The crowd is as loud as if the stadium was packed and then some. Crazy. It's game time and the first period has started as the fan next to Brandon decides to pay attention to the reason he's there finally. How long will that last?

------------------FIRST PERIOD------------------

-Hockey Fan-
“So, you've really got a match against a witch tomorrow? A real life freakin' witch?!”

-Brandon Moore-
“I guess. I might be the Federweight Champion, but I'm still kind of new around there. If you say she's a witch, then she's a witch. You obviously have been paying attention to things long before I came around.”

-Hockey Fan-
“Oh hell yes I have. I've been an XWF fan since the beginning! I know everything there is to know about everyone who's stepped foot in that XWF ring.”

-Brandon Moore-
“Yeah? What can you tell me about this Ravenwolf gal then?”

The game is pretty even in the first period. A handful of shots on goal for each team, but no points on the board just yet. Just as Brandon asks his question, a Penguins player checks a Devils player into the glass a few rows right in front of him. The crowd goes wild.

-Hockey Fan-
“Yeah! Go Pens! Eat 'em alive!”

Hot damn, did you see that? Anyways, about Isabella Ravenwolf? Hell, let's see. Rumor has it she's a good few hundred years old. Born in like the 1600s or something. She likes to set stuff on fire. So, if you've got that X-treme Rules match like you said, I'd watch. Chances are she'll double double toil and trouble your ass until you're fried chicken. Didn't I mention earlier that she's crazy as all hell?”

-Brandon Moore-
“Yeah, you said something like that. I think I'll be able to handle myself. I didn't win this championship by not being crazy. You think I'll have a chance?”

-Hockey Fan-
“Who the hell knows, man? It's X-treme Rules. Anything could happen!”

That's strike one. The buzzer sounds and the first period is over. Brandon goes to the concession stand and grabs himself a bottle of water. When he returns to his seat, the fan that's been talking up a storm is already stuffing his face with another mustard covered pretzel. Brandon hopes the guy keeps on eating. Enough so that he doesn't talk to him anymore. Right. Like that will ever happen.

------------------SECOND PERIOD------------------

The game is still dead even through the second period. Zero to zero is the score, but the Penguins are sure roughing up the Devils. At least the fans in Pittsburgh are getting to see that. Brandon's hopes and dreams are crushed as he takes off his jacket and settles in, because of the warmth of the tub of lard next to him.

-Hockey Fan-
“So, I know you've only been there for a bit. One and one record now right? But you took that twenty-four seven rule by the horns and got yourself some gold! Do you like it in the XWF so far? What do you plan on doing?”

-Brandon Moore-
“I'm the Federweight Champion already. That has to say something. I plan on going as far as I possibly can. I've got my boys in Havoc, Ronnie and David. I call 'em my 'boys,' because they couldn't pay me a million bucks to call them a buddy or a pal or a friend. And vice versa. But we know each other. Have for a long time. So, why not join up and fucking wreck everything? I would've done it on my own, but it's good knowing I've got two other dudes, two dudes I've got history with, backing me up on that shit. I don't care who it is. Chris Chaos. Bjorn Felwhateverthefuck. Or this Isabella Ravenwolf. Immortal and sexy as fuck. Cool ass name and all that shit. Who the fuck cares? They want to see X-treme, I'll give them X-treme. What do you do to witches? Burn them? I might just have to fucking do that if it comes down to it.”

Almost immediately after Brandon started talking, the man seated next to him turned his attention back to the hockey game. Brandon notices this after he poured his wrestling heart out to the man. Ever since he demolished all of those guys in that mosh pit in New Jersey, he's been trying to tone down his public acts of rage. He got arrested that night and, while management said the story sounded really fucking rad, he can't just go around and fuck shit up outside of sanctioned XWF time without consequences. Anyways, that's strike two.

------------------THIRD PERIOD------------------

-Hockey Fan-
“Man, what a game this has been! I've got a feeling we'll have this one locked up here soon, though.”

-Brandon Moore-
“You guys just might, the way you've been smacking the hell out of the Devils all night long. Just no goals to show for it.”

-Hockey Fan-
“Oh well! Plenty of game left. It'll happen here sooner or later.”

It's about halfway through the third period. The score is still tied at zero, but the Penguins might have killed every member of the New Jersey Devils. It's at about this time, the rabid fan notices what Brandon is wearing. He had previously taken his jacket off, but the fan is just now realizing that Brandon is wearing a Colorado Avalanche sweatshirt.

-Hockey Fan-
“Dude, you rule, but an Avs shirt at a Pens game? Sorry to say it, but your Avs kind of blow, my man!”

The fan lets out a disgusting cackle, apparently having said his previous remarks in a joking manner. Still, you don't try to befriend a guy who obviously hates everything and then insult his team. That's strike three. The crowd erupts. The Penguins just scored to take the lead against the Devils. Brandon might as well take this opportunity to cause some trouble. The fan next to him is going crazy. Next to him, though, were a few guys dawning Devils jerseys. Let the shit show commence. Brandon's finally pissed off. Though he has been working on keeping his cool in public, he can't just let this man go free. As the arena celebrates the scored goal, Brandon looks at his new acquaintance with a fake smile and arms extended. The Devils fans are getting up to leave as Brandon and the shitty fan next to him hug it out. Brandon reaches over to the closet Devils fan and gives him a mighty shove. The fan doesn't take too kindly to this and he turns around to confront Brandon's “pal.” He thinks he shoved him. The two of them start hailing insults back and forth, trying to figure out what happened. Brandon pushes his “pal” right into the Devils fan. Let the games begin! The three Devils fans start hauling off on the Penguins fan that was trying to befriend Brandon.

Soon enough, a handful of Penguins fans come to his rescue. Out of the woodwork come more Devils fans from the surrounding sections. It's an all out war! Brandon is loving it! The game even stops as security starts to descend upon the brawl. Brandon, of course, has to get in on the action and starts smacking up just about anyone he says, Penguins fans and Devils fans alike. He grabs people by the heads and slams them together. He throws one guy down the stairs and another over the seats into the row in front of them. He's got a sadistic smile on his face as he approaches the bloodied and bruised fan he was chatting with during the game. He looks relieved to see a friendly face. Unfortunately, Brandon fucking hates his guts. The fan gets a confused and worried look on his face as Brandon's sickening grin widens and widens. He gets closer and closer, zeroing in on his prey so to speak. Just as Brandon cocks his fist back, it's grabbed by a security guard. After that, two more security guards jump the seats down into the row he is in, attempting to separate him and his target. Brandon quickly overpowers the guard who grabbed his arm and turns his attention back to his “buddy.”

BOOM!

Brandon kicks the guy right in the fucking nuts. He crumbles to the ground holding his junk as Brandon starts to laugh maniacally.

-Brandon Moore-
“Now it's a hell of a game!”

Brandon keeps laughing as the security guards pull him up the stairs and begin to zip tie his hands behind his back. This is just like New Jersey all over again. Hopefully the big wigs at XWF will bail him out again. He's got a match tomorrow night against Isabella Ravenwolf and he'll be damned if he can't show up to Bethlehem to make an example out of her.

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