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~~Brandon Moore~~ · (01-06-2017)

Brandon Moore has a new toy. Instead of dealing with Steve Sayors and the XWF staff, he went and bought himself a handheld video camera. At any time, he can simply hit the record button and speak what's on his mind. No longer will he be hounded by the XWF camera crew and resident interview geek for “a few words.” He can say what he has to say, send it over to whomever, and be on his merry way. That's what he is doing right now. Brandon is at John F. Kennedy International Airport. Everyone knows what happened in Times Square during Savage Saturday Night. Brandon pinned Thomas Nixon. Thomas Nixon pinned Brandon. It was a draw. So, now, he is waiting on his flight to Green Bay, Wisconsin, to take on Thomas Nixon again. However, it's not just Nixon. Cain has been added to make it a triple threat match for the XWF Television Championship. As Brandon waits for his flight, he ponders over the thought of removing his new camera from his carry on luggage. The pondering lasts but a moment. Brandon hurries to undo the zipper and retrieves his video camera. He flips the screen so he can see the recording, while he is filming, and presses the record button as he clears his throat. Brandon is still fuming and is definitely bound to offend some bystanders here in a second.

-Brandon Moore-
“It's all complete bullshit, but I'll get to that in a second. Right now, I'm going to tell you a fucking story. I'm going to let you in on the life of Brandon Moore and show you just what it is I've been through and am capable of. You see, my mom skipped out when I was nine years old. I'm an only child, which means she left without me. She left me with my drunken, abusive father, and could be dead as squirrel caked to the pavement right now for all I know. I was a kid. I didn't know what was happening. She's going to come back from the store, right, dad? Wrong. It just ticked him off more when I asked if he was mom every time he'd open the back door. By the time I was sixteen, learning how to drive and pickin' up chicks should have been the top of the list, yeah? Wrong again. My priorities were learning how to fucking survive, learning the right way to keep my dad from sending me to school black and blue, and learning how to finally fucking defend myself.

Every single night of the week, it was liquor and whores. He'd give me the belt if I even just told him I was going out so I could eat. If I said a single word to him, I wouldn't be able to talk for a few days as a result. I came home from school one day after spring break and boy, did that day change my life. I walked in on him pounding some hideous fifty dollar fucking floozie over the kitchen table. He's fucking some bitch when he knows I'm supposed to be coming home. So, of course, it's my fault. The cocksucker sees me. He pulls out of the whore, butt ass naked, grabs the nearest thing he can and starts bashing me with it. He was so fucking hammered, he started whacking me with a half empty two liter of Sprite. I had a fucking shitty day so I was over it. I ran out to the porch and he followed me. He didn't expect me to grab the baseball bat that had been sitting out there for years and smash his fucking face in with it. He never let me play another game after mom left, so it just sat on the porch and collected dust like a whole bunch of other shit.

By this time, the whore took off. My dad was lying on the porch, whining for me to stop, bloodied and battered. He was missing a few teeth by now and his nose was pretty much bent back to his ear. I called 911. I felt like a monster, but at the same time, it felt good. The cops came and took both me and my dad out of the house. Soon enough, we were in court. They took my story and got my dad on a bunch of child abuse charges and didn't even blink in my direction. I was defending myself, they said. I just wanted to give him what he gave me was all. I remember him sitting in court, unrecognizable, crying like a little bitch. They emancipated me. I was free, but I had jack shit. I had nowhere to go, but they didn't care. Their job was to get me away from him and they did just that. End of their duties. But the rest is a story for another time.”

Brandon moves the camera, panning a view of the airport terminal he is seated at. His plane is set to board soon, so there are many others seated in the area. A few have strange looks on their faces as they have listened in on Brandon's words. After a slow view of the entire area of the airport he is located, Brandon brings the camera back to his face, front and center.

-Brandon Moore-
“All of these people I just showed you? They have a story, too. Every person on this planet has a story, no matter how amazing or how devastating it is. But don't think this is some sob story to garner me sympathy or some shit. I give zero fucks about what any of you people think or these people think. Thomas Nixon. Cain. My story is being told just so you know what I'm capable of. I have a fucking reason to be angry. I have a reason to want to wreck motherfuckers in that ring. Believe that. I need somewhere to channel it and you guys are the lucky winners! Why do you think I joined up with two guys I used to fucking hate? Ronnie Cage, David Stone, and I are Havoc. We are Havoc because that is what we create here in the XWF. They are my teammates because they want to ruin lives just as much as I do. It's a match made in fucking hell and it's perfect.

Cain, you're a big motherfucker, isn't that right? You're tall as fuck and like three hundred pounds. You melted Snow last night. Get it? Because, heat melts snow and you set Snow on fire? Yeah? Whatever. Congratulations. That, of all things, gets you a Television Championship match? Anyone can fucking set Snow on fire! I bet I could find her right now and just light her the fuck up! You think your fancy with your flames and shit? Next Saturday will be a completely different story. You won't get to just pop up and take anyone by surprise. You'll be in that ring, in my sight, from the top of the bell until the end. The bigger they are, the harder they fall, they say. Let's see just how hard your big ass fucking falls!

And for you, Nixon. You didn't push me to my limit, I pushed you to yours. Yeah, yeah, yeah. You hit me with your shitty Nixon-nator, big whoop. I pinned your shoulders to the mat. I'm not some dumb neanderthal because I'm pissed off all the damn time. I'm a smart guy, Tommy. I made sure to land in a way that would keep your shoulders down, too. Unfortunately, I just wasn't able to get mine up in time. So, we ended up in a draw. Regardless, I fucking beat you, like it or not. And I will do it again. That Television Championship is coming home with me. If I have to pin you. If I have to pin Cain. If I have to make you submit. If I have to make Cain submit. It doesn't fucking matter!”

At this point, Brandon is interrupted. A tired looking woman has approached him. She is in the same boarding area that he is and her face just screams that she is offended by the harsh words Brandon has been using. She stands in front of Brandon with her arms at her side. This causes Brandon to look up at her, in anger of course, as her shadow begins to creep over him.

-Offended Woman-
“Um, excuse me, sir. I'm not quite sure what it is you're doing there with the video camera and everything, but...do you think you could watch the language? There are children here waiting for their flights and quite frankly, I myself am not fond of the words you have been shouting.”

Brandon turns his video camera towards the woman to film her now. This upsets her and it is visible. Before she can start hollering at Brandon about how she'll sue him for recording her without her consent, Brandon is quick to his feet. He puts his finger to the lips to the woman to shut her up and continues filming. It's his turn to speak now.

-Brandon Moore-
“Um, excuse me, miss. I'm not quite sure what it is you're doing there fucking interrupting me, but do you think you could fuck off?! There are people here waiting for their flights and they don't need you causing a goddamn scene! And quite frankly, I myself don't give a fuck who hears what I'm saying! Mind your own fucking business and skedaddle!”

Brandon shoos the woman away. She quickly scurries off in a fit of frustration as her eyes start to water. Brandon, still standing, turns his camera towards an old man, then a toddler, and lastly towards a group of Asian students who have no idea what he's saying.

-Brandon Moore-
“Does anyone else have anything to say? How about you, old fuck?! Maybe you, you little shit?! What about you slanty-eyed motherfuckers?! I didn't think so!”

They all look kind of frightened towards Brandon. The toddler especially, as he begins to cry. The Asian students kind of laugh it off nervously and the old man ends up farting because of it. Brandon turns the camera back to his enraged mug and continues.

-Brandon Moore-
“People, I swear. Now, where was I? Hmm. Oh, that's right. Cain. Thomas Nixon. Fuck you guys! Fuck you guys hard! In Green Bay, you're going to see why I think...no, why I know that I'm just plain better! Nixon, you wanted to make the Television Championship something special, right? Well, you sure fucking did. I'm the Federweight Champion, daddio, but I'll trade that in just to be able to show you what's up. The Heavymetalweight, the X-Treme, the Hart, the Universal...those all sound fucking lovely, but you put a target on your back, son. That Television Championship is on the top of the list. I'd say I'm sorry that the belt got suspended and you have to earn it back, but I'm not. That's what you get, you lizard fucker. I'm...”

Brandon stops mid-sentence as he is interrupted again. This time, it is by the intercom of the airport, announcing the beginning of his flight's boarding. Brandon looks up to make sure he is in fact in the right spot and perks his ear up to hear everything correctly.

-Airport Intercom-
“United Flight 3706, New York City to Green Bay Wisconsin, now boarding. I repeat, New York City to Green Bay, Wisconsin. Now boarding Flight 3706.”

Brandon looks back down to the camera one last time.

-Brandon Moore-
“I'll see you assholes in Green Bay.”

Brandon presses the record button once more to end his current filming session. He packs the camera up in his carry on bag and takes off for the line to board his flight to the next location for XWF Savage Saturday Night.

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