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Cadryn Tiberius · **01-18-2017, 11:56 PM**

December 10th 2016..

Cadryn is backstage, cleaning himself up after the vicious beating he received from Brandon Moore and his cronies. Out of the corner of his eye Cadryn notices the camera.

Cadryn turns to the camera, smiling.

You gentleman have made a grave mistake...

The camera fades as Cadryn slowly and painfully makes the long walk back towards the locker room.

Do they really think they can get away with this? It would be one thing for Brandon Moore to accept defeat and scurry to the back with the rest of the night's losers. But no. He had to call in his poor excuse for a posse to out number me, and give me a “proper” beating. It saddens me deeply to think that I am alone in this company. Maybe I should reach out to someone and get a myself a posse? No, that's cowardly. I will deal with these idiots in my own time, on my own as I have done my entire life.

Cadryn walks through the doorway of the locker room, making his way to his locker. Low and behold he is taken aback. Who does he see climbing into the shower stall? It's his Gravy! Cadryn watches silently as Michael Graves takes a step into the shower stall and closes the curtain behind him.

You know, that's a pretty nice ass for an old man. I could get behind that.

Cadryn thinks to himself as he starts to undress in front of his locker. It's at this point Cadryn realizes that naked, he looks like cancer ridden porn star that just contracted aids. Just as quickly as Cadryn stripped down, he seemed to suit right back up. Cadryn has thrown together an outfit that looks reminiscent of something you'd find at the Salvation Army. Black slacks, a brown pinstripe suit jacket, and a pair of worn out Nike tennis shoes with a hole in the top. Cadryn quickly realizes his ensemble is slightly less becoming than a hobo with a canker sore. It seems as though in the midst of spying on his Gravy, Cadryn managed to throw three different outfits together into one.

Holy hell, they must have hit me harder than I thought. I somehow have thrown together a concoction that looks like it was purchased from a crackhead.

Cadryn quickly switches out pieces of his attire until his outfit is complete.

Now back to what was being discussed earlier. Although it may be considered cowardly, having someone to watch my back would be preferred. Lord knows Brandon Moore and the Dickless Douchecanoe Divas bopped me so hard in the bean I was beyond ass backwards. No blood, albeit bloody brutal. With that being said, who could I trust to actually be there for me when I need them the most?

At that moment Cadryn manifested an idea that could only be described as “orgasmic”.

Graves! My Gravy is the perfect person to be my partner. My kitten has everything I'll ever need. Sexy ass body, strength, cute butt, odd scars that only an emo kid might have after a bad night at the junior prom. Everything I could possibly want!

Just then Cadryn hears the water in Graves shower turn off. Cadryn, as fast as he can, pulls out a piece of paper and a pencil. He begins to write -

“Kitten we need to talk. I think we could make magic together.

304-816-XOXO

P.S. - You already have my number, we just don't understand how phones work.”

Cadryn grabs an empty envelope out of his locker and shoves the note inside. Without a second of hesitation Cadryn runs over and drops the envelope in Graves locker and exits the locker room in what can only be described as a “

on bath salts” fashion.

January 19th 2017..

Over a month has passed since last we heard from our beloved cereal crushing champion. As luck would have it, his impressive victory over Brandon Moore, Mysery, and Dawud The Bully gained him a grand opportunity on Savage Saturday Night. A Television Title match against newly crowned champion Jim Caedus. We pick back up with our beloved cereal killer outside of the WVU Coliseum in Morgantown, WV. He seems to be standing in line. Let's find out what he's standing in line for, shall we?

Comic-con. The one place in the world where nerds, dorks, and homosexuals can gather as one and express themselves without the worry of judgment. The amount of excitement I feel deep within myself almost can't be contained. Of course, I'm only here to get something for someone else.

Cadryn pulls a crumbled up XWF Trading Card out of his jacket pocket.

My Gravy, my kitten, the only star in my sky. I have come to the conclusion that my kitten is a huge fan of Evil Dead leading actor Bruce Campbell. As it happens, Bruce is here at comic-con signing autographs. I figure if I can get my hands on an autographed photograph of Bruce Campbell, my geriatric stud muffin will surely be interested in teaming up against all those who have wronged me.

Cadryn is suddenly broken from his train of thought, interrupted by none other than local news anchor Khootr Mcsuksumdeek. The one and only Indian reporter in the state.

I'm Khootr Mcsuksumdeek reporting live from the WVU Coliseum, in beautiful Morgantown, WV. I am standing here next to a legendary actor, Kevin Bacon. Mr. Bacon, would it be possible to ask you a few questions?

Cadryn looks genuienly perplexed. It's as if someone licked the back of his ear, while slowly groping his taint in a

mystic, terrifying, slightly arousing manner.[/align]

Two things, sugar. One, we're going to pretend that your name isn't actually “Khootr Mcsuksumdeek”, that's just awful on a level I can't even contend with. Two, I think you have me mistaken for someone else. I am actually XWF superstar and future Television Champion Cadryn Tiberius.

My apologies, sir. You bare a striking resemblance to a famous actor I once interviewed. I am truly sorry for the confusion, have a wonderful afternoon.

You too, my friend.

Cadryn turns back around in line, patiently waiting to get his opportunity to meet Bruce Campbell. Suddenly, the gentleman in front of Cadryn turns and begins to speak as if he'd been spoken to.

If it makes you feel better, I knew exactly who you were, cereal killer. I've been following your return to the ring, and I must say, it is much more impressive this time around.

Cadryn smiles, unsure if he should be excited for the new found fan, or offended by the fact that he pretty much called Cadryn a bag of dicks for his first attempt in the wrestling world.

Well, I appreciate the kind words, my man. I'd gladly sign a picture, or a spoon, or something for you, if you're interested.

Oh, I don't like you that much. There's no need for all of that...

Cadryn, shocked, puts his head down in shame. Cadryn settles back in to his spot in line and begins quietly thinking to himself.

It's funny, you know? I go out, and I give it everything I have. Literally, everything. And I come away with my first victory in the XWF. What do I have to show for it? Bruises, pain, and the inability to cope with the fact that I was jumped by 3 of the biggest crotch goblins I've ever laid eyes upon. But, that's okay. Live and learn, as they say. I need not be focused on the Goon Platoon at the moment. I need to focus all of my energy and all of my emotions towards Jim Caedus. In a twisted turn of events, I received a title shot before my beloved Gravy. Part of me feels a little sad about it, the other part of me is excited. Excited to bring the belt back home where my kitten and I can share it, together. I may even let him hold it while I take a shower. Eh, I'll just send him a picture of it, that makes it better for the both of us. Regardless, I know nothing of this Jim Caedus character. It seems he made quick work of Thomas Nixon to win the title, but that isn't anything to write home about. I'm torn between my emotions, as it stands. The anger, the hatred, the fire that fuels me is starting to burn out. I'm becoming more of a socialized victim of abuse, rather than the abused son of a psychotic mother. Docile, ineffective, those are words I could use to describe myself without the fire that burns inside. Normally, I would go speak to my psychiatrist about this, and he would help fuel the fire that inevitably fuels me. Oddly enough, however, Graves and I drove this man so utterly insane that he apparently peeled off half of his face with a potato peeler and joined the XWF as a wrestler himself. Talk about being entirely too invested in your work. I want Jim to fear me, as I wanted the other to fear me. But I can't expose myself emotionally enough to exude the fear that is necessary to shake him to his core. Without the emotions, the anger, the hatred, I feel a shell of my former self. Sure, I'm great at covering it up, as I have on many occasions. But I need something to ignite the passion within me. That's where Michael Graves comes in. Sure, he's the sexiest, and most talented athlete I've ever known. But my obsession is so much more than that. Behind those beautiful eyes I see a creature begging to be let out. I see a man struggling with the same issues I struggle with on a daily basis. In his eyes I find the answers to all of my problems, the clarity I've been searching for.

The Oncoming Storm will remain docile, until it is awoken by a Dark Warrior.

On the plus side, if he ever agrees to any of this, we could call ourselves “Fruity Devils”.

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Sweetheart, I'm no Kevin Bacon
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