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Chris Chaos · (02-24-2017)

End Credits

"So we have seen this movie before, haven't we? The protagonist rides in on his flaming glory horse and stabs the villain in the heart, saving the princess in the process. Savage, according to Graves, is simply an over-used movie cliche. Micheal Graves is the white knight, the hero, the protagonist. Me? I am just like every bad guy you've ever seen, right? No. I am a bad guy like never before seen. I am a bad guy like no movie has ever depicted. No movie would ever be able to depict. You may be the "feel good story" of the new era in XWF, but even good feelings are only temporary. You see, you are going to do exactly what you always do. You are going to "push to the limit" and "get pushed to the limit", but ultimately, in the end, you are going to lose. You always do. And as far as those losses elevating your status here? You are absolutely right. You see, Graves, nobody cares about what limits were pushed and how good a match is, all they remember is a loss. When people look back at your career, they aren't going to say to themselves "aww shucks, Micheal Graves really out on a good show against Duke and Bourbon." No. No, no, no, no, no. You see, all anyone is ever going to remember is that you lost. You see, Micheal, a loss is a loss is a loss. It is a loss no matter how you slice it. Look at motocross, as an example. When someone misses a jump, people "ohh" and "ahh". The riders becomes a meme, a GIF, a vine post. They make SportsCenter's Not Top 10. It stays with them forever. When a rider lands a jump, people's general response it "oh, damn that was cool". Then, a few days later, they move on. All anyone remembers is a loss. So, in a way, you are correct...those losses did elevate you because whenever anyone looks at your triumphant and glorious return....all they are going to see are losses to the company's top rated talent. All anyone will remember you as, Graves, is a loser.

Before I continue with my bad guy argument, I want to touch in a few of the things you said. You speak a big game. Your bark HAS been bigger than your bite has thus far, so why would I think any differently? You may think I am just some hotheaded prick who can't keep my mouth shut, but I promise you there is a method to my madness. You seem to think you goaded me into a match with you, but it was just the opposite. Complete 180. You see, I knew that you had a lot of pride despite your failures. I knew that somewhere deep down in the occult of the heart of Micheal Graves, you weren't contemplating retirement just yet. You needed that signature match, you needed that defining moment in a career that people were quickly tuning out. You had no reason to "just answer my question". You weren't being addressed. You and me had no prior contact and no prior beef. YOU stuck your nose into MY business before I ever came into yours. Why? Because you knew I would respond. You didn't know how I would, but you knew simply that I would. You wanted me to acknowledge you, because you felt like if the top dog, the Great Dane, noticed the Shitzu, then the little dog would get just a fraction of attention. So I said the one thing I needed to say, the one thing that would tug at your heartstrings and drive a stake through your pride---your loss history. "Win a match then talk to me". Well, that set you off didn't it, Graves? Let's take a look bad at our little transcript:

Take a look, scroll back and really look. I think you will see who accosted who here. You stirred the pot, threw gas on an already lit fire, and Paul Heyman gained confidence from it. You saw an opportunity and you took it. For real, read it, and you see will that YOU, not I, am the one who caused this beating you are about to receive.

Enjoy: http://xwf99.com/showthread.php?tid=26263&highlight=Graves

Your pride was hidden somewhere deep down, and it still is. You see, through all of this, you have tried to twist words and paint a picture that simply isn't there. You claim that I am scared? You claim I see my title slipping away, that I am finally now realizing the "mistake" I made. But nothing about my actions, my promos, nothing, has given you any indication. You on the other hand, you have done nothing but make excuses. You went from claiming you were possessed by a demon to now saying you were pretending to be. You went from saying you were close to quitting now are saying you were basically playing possum. You claim your better than you've shown but you needed to wait for the right moment, this moment, to show it. You realize what these are, right? These are nothing more than defense mechanisms. You are protecting yourself in your own mind. You are so far buried in your own delusions and fear that you can't even remember what excuses you already made.

Micheal Graves Said:I might have pretended to be processed by a demon leading into this match, but now you see the real monster that was lying beneath the surface...

Didn't you previously say something different?

NAME Said:“It's been so long since I've been myself, that I've forgotten who I really am. I've spent over a decade sharing my mind and body with a demon that made it his mission to try and drive me insane. It's a miracle that I'm even here at all at this point. Even when I appeared to be myself I was being manipulated by this...

You have been backtracking consistently. And you have been pumping your own self up while trying to bring me down in any way you can with false claims that have no merit. Let's get one thing straight. I am NOT afraid of you at all. I am not afraid of losing this belt to you, either. You see, Graves, to be the best you need to beat the best. You can beat up on all the Random's and X Vega's you want, but that makes you nothing more than slightly better than bottom of the barrel. You have lost to anyone second tier and above since your "return". And one of them isn't even old enough to buy cigarettes in some states (certain states have made it 21 to buy Tobacco products now). You don't get credit for almost winning, you get credit for the W. That is a letter you are unfamiliar with. That eats at you. But because you couldn't beat them, you have to claim you were baiting me in by looking like less than you were? What kind of champion would you make? You remind me of the playground bully who loses a game of kickball to a girl and claims you "let her win". There is no difference. When does the excuse train stop? Or better yet, where? I will tell you where.....in Carson, California. I am not pretending anything, I know EXACTLY what I am doing. A stacked deck.....sure, it sucks. Nobody likes to have to deal with that. But am I afraid of it? No. I have been doing some thinking, and you know.....I think I actually prefer it. It is what makes a champion a champion. REAL champions WIN matches like this. REAL champions prove themselves in the big moments. You claim YOU are the one backed into a corner? How can you be backed into a corner when you have nothing to lose? How can you have your back against the ropes when there isn't anything on the line? I have everything to lose. I have more than just a title to lose. I have a reputation, I have pride, and I have the only shred of love left in my body to lose. I SHOULD BE THE ONE BACKED INTO A CORNER. But do you see me making excuses? You claim I bitched and complained about the deck stacking....and sure, maybe I did....but I have had a lot of time to think it over and maybe, just maybe, it is a good thing. This could be the match that defines my career. The chamber? Foreplay. If I take you out in a 60 minute test of wills I will be solidified as the top champion not just in the XWF but in professional wrestling as a whole. I have said for weeks now that I am the best in the world at what I do.....here is my chance to prove it.

And as for mouthing off to Paul Heyman.....did you not see what he said to me? He threw his overweight Jewish beer-belly around and tried to talk down to me. Did you want me to fold? No, that is something you would do. I have said since the day I walked into this place that I was going to ruffle some feathers and get under some people's skin. It appears I have done that. When is the "authority" going to learn that I do what I want when I want? I have the clout to be able to do that. Some people work their way up from the bottom, Graves, and start with the smaller belts and eventually, if they are fortunate, can hold this belt. I won this belt FIRST. AND, I did it in 4 months. All the blood, sweat and tears of people who gives their lives to this business and they can never have what I have. I ave EARNED this. Paul Heyman wants to prove a point, I am going to do the same. But one thing that I HAVE NEVER done, and WILL NEVER do, is back down. Same reason I indulged you in this match and made you feel like you mattered---because I do not accept disrespect. I simply pointed out that Paul's rating system was more fucked than a drunk girl at an EDM rave, and you had to throw gas on the fire because of your own insecurities. I didn't come at him sideways, until you gassed him up and he decided to grow a pair. He is, remember, the same man who pissed himself when-----nevermind. This match isn't about him, it is about you.

This is your first time challenging for the Universal Title.....oh goodie. Consider it your Titanic voyage. It may look shiny and pristine, but it is going to end in disaster. Running and screaming, pure fear and terror. You are a scared little boy on the inside, Graves, I see it. You can slick talk and make accusations about my mental state all you want. But I see that as yet another game from you. I take it with a grain of salt.

You see, this is the difference. You want to know IF you can beat me. I am confident that I CAN beat you. This match is, as I said before, your Super Bowl, your World Series, your Stanley Cup. This, to me, is just another archived match in the history of the greatest World Champion the sports entertainment world has ever seen. You have nothing on me, and you know it. You try to go fall back on the same tired shtick that everyone else uses on me: "I have a bad temper, my ego is too big, I am my own worst enemy". But what have I done? I have never flinched and I have taken on all comers. I have even goaded some into coming to me--cough cough. I opted into every card when I didn't have to. I would have defended my title long ago but the bookers seemed to want to avoid that. I said I was going to be a fighting champion, and dammit I am. It didn't start with you and it sure as hell won't end with you--but don't think you are fooling anyone by telling them you see a scared rabbit in me. You see one in yourself, and you are scrambling to grasp at any straws you can. You, apparently, lied about the demon, lied about sucking, and lied about be heterosexual. Now, when you step into that ring and the baddest man on planet earth is staring you down from across the ring, the only person you will be lying to is yourself. "I think I can, I think I can"---your locomotive of lies and delusion comes screeching off the track and explodes into a smoldering mess of what could have been. A pile of ashes made of a career that ended when you challenged the best in the world. A burning hunk of steel that contains evidence of a man who could never beat the greats but showed a decent amount of balls. Your train leaves the track and will be remembered only as that....a mere accident.

I am the bad guy who will break every bone in your body if I have to. The bad guy who will show no remorse, even when you beg me to. I am the "soulless prick" who will take pride in taking you apart systematically for the longest 60 minutes of your life. You have never seen a bad guy like me in your "storied" career. What are you? 39-6? That is a record that should sit among legends here, but the fact this title has "alluded" you shows that maybe the good guy truly does....finish last.

So say goodnight to the bad guy, because, this is the last time you are gonna see a bad guy like this again."

+__________________+

Chris's shirt was drenched with sweat. So much so, that it would likely need to be peeled off. He hit the bag two, three, four more times. A vicious combination of rights and lefts that were designed to break faces and displace ribs. These were the same hands that were going to rip the skin off Micheal Grave's face. The same hands that were going to hold the Universal Title high in the air as the carcass of Micheal Graves lays in a bloody heap below Chris's feet. More shots to the bag.

Right

Left

Left

Right

Jab. Jab. Jab. Killshot.

Looking at his now glistening self in the gym's mirror he saw something in himself again. He had shaved the beard, taken a shower, and cleaned up a little. But he noticed his eyes. The deep, dark, damn near evil eyes. Eyes he had noticed the other night, for the first time in a long time, and eyes that were the eyes of Satan himself.

Jenny was on the elliptical, her fake tits sitting still despite her body moving. Chris looked out the window at the inter coastal. Life was so chill in Clearwater. So laid back. It was truly paradise. But Chris didn't feel like paradise. He felt like hell, literally. There was a fire bubbling up in him. There was an inferno. He wanted to hurt someone.

He laid down on the weight bench, the weights were pre-loaded. He was the only one in the workout facility this time of morning, so he called ahead and told them to set it up the way he liked. The sun was just starting to peek over the still salt water. He lifted the bar, and his muscles tensed. His arms burned, but it was a good pain. A pain he liked, needed, even craved.

He blew and grunted through a ten count, then re racked the bar.

After several sets on the bench, his arms stung like 1,000 bees driving their stingers in at the same time. His hands were numb from gripping the metal. His knuckles were white.

His body was telling him No Mas. Every fiber of his being was telling him to go sit on his beautiful condo deck and have a beer. To enjoy the day, to soak in this lavish paradise before the 60 minutes of hell he would experience in Carson, California tomorrow evening. His flights were booked. He would be at Savage, whether anyone liked it or not.

He stood up. His body was tired. But his body would be beyond tired in the Iron Man Match. He couldn't quit now...not when he felt the urge. That is something Micheal Graves would do.

He slipped on his beats headphones and stepped onto the treadmill. This playlist wasn't his normal metal, however. This time, it was a little more nostalgic.

His entire body hurt. Aches, pains, cramps, the gamut. His lungs felt like an elephant was sitting on top of them. He looked around at the carnage that lay strewn before him. Broken and lifeless bodies. He was sitting up, and was the only one who was/could.

Then, like a father being handed his newborn infant for the first time, the best achievement of his life was placed in his hands. At that moment, he forgot all the football accolades, the college degree, the numerous boxing titles. He forgot about the Freestyle Title, The Armored Core Title, his 5 time reign as Tag Champion. Finally, an achievement that had eluded him his entire career was placed into his sore arms.

THE UNIVERSAL TITLE

At that moment he knew, right then, that all of the pain, the demons, the blood sweat and tears had all come to fruition. He has always been second best. Second best on his football team, until he caught the game winning touchdown after forcing a strip sack in a bowl game. Second best in boxing before he managed to connect with the champion on the chin, causing him to fall against the ropes and the ref called it a TKO. Second best in school until he graduated with the highest GPA of any other athlete at hus high school ,then the same at USF. Second best in Phoenix Wrestling........He came close, but he never got over the hump. That ate him alive. All the training, all the work. Time and time and time again he was screwed. Time and time and time again the champion was protected by management, not allowing him to get close.

He was finally beyond close.

He was there.

“THE WINNER OF THE ELIMINATION CHAMBER...AND NNNNEEEEEEEEWWWWWW XWF UNIVERSAL CHAMPION…….CHHHHHRRRIIIIISSSS CCCCCCCCHHHHAAAAOOOSS”

It was real. He had lost Nicole. He had alienated hi family. He had been up and down with Bruce Kehn, his manager and best friend. He had the entire world against him, and for that one moment, he was untouchable. He was on top of the world.

He looked down again, just to make sure it was real. His music was playing, but it was all muffled to him.

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For once since Nicole, he felt like he had a heart. And that heart has a pulse. Blood ran through his veins and he felt like he was alive. His body could barely stand but his heart was now pumping harder than it ever had. For the first time in YEARS, he actually smiled.

And it was a genuine smile, not his typical psychotic grin.

He kissed the belt. It was just as good as the soft lips of Nicole. Perhaps even better.

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All he ever loved was right there in front of him, in his arms.

He looked around. Atlantic City was alive. He saw the commentators talking in an animated tone into their headsets, the crowd with signs in shock but cheering nonetheless. There was burning sweat in his eyes but he could see the design of the buidling, the colors of the wall, the gret cement of the steps. The black chain link was like a prison, but as soon as that door opened he felt like a prisoner being liberated from Guantanemo Bay.....he felt, finally, free.

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This was real. He limped up the ramp and basically collapsed at the feet of Bruce and Jenny. They lifted him up with huge smiles. Jenny planted a kiss on his lips. Bruce patted his shoulders before holding his arms high. This was real.

The XWF was about to change forever. It was about to become a lot more chaotic. He had just competed in—and won—the match of the year. He was the best of the best. To be the man you have to beat the man. He just beat 5 of them. He put my hands up and roared as the Pay Per View went off the air…..

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That was the match of the year for 2016. Now, it was 2017. The match of the year for this new year was coming up, and Chris was going to do what he did in that chamber again. He was going to survive. As the treadmill slowed, his breathing sped up. As it rolled to a stop, his shirt was dark in color---almost black with sweat. His was going to push his body, because he had to. Micheal Graves vowed to push him, and he had to be ready to respond. He snapped out of his memory of the chamber, and into preparation for the upcoming match.

Looking up at the television, he sees a promotional ad for The Oscars, which will be Sunday Night February 26th. The night after Savage. You know, those award shows are always stupid. They are always about the good guy, the hero. Chris didn't like that---he preferred when the bad guy won. It was so much more....real.

We're all so used to seeing the good guy win at the end of films, but in reality, it just seems unrealistic, and so often, tacked on to satisfy more casual audiences who simply want pure, silly escapism. That's precisely why the films that dare to mess with the formula leave the most profoundly memorable wounds.

The moral switcheroo legitimately counts as one of the industry's greatest magic tricks. Even when it would be ridiculous for the good guy to suddenly become over-powered and take down a quasi-deity, to actually see evil prevail remains one of those moments that makes you catch your breath.

And thanks to the rise of anti-heroes and charismatic villains - who often have more dimensions than those who are wholly good (the old Batman vs Superman dynamic) - the effect can also often be entirely welcome. It's not just a case of feeling robbed by the bad guy winning:some movies that follow that trend still leave the audience feeling satisfied, arguably more so than had everything been neatly tied up.

To him, this entire Graves story was just a movie. He tried to ride in and be the hero. No.....no no no. The best movies are those where the bad guy wins. Movies you'd never see at the Oscars.

But sometimes......you do.

BAD GUYS WINNING:

Primal Fear

The main character is Aaron Stampler. Over the course of the film, we learn that Aaron has a second personality called Roy who appears to have caused the murder, yet at the film's climax, we learn that Roy - or in fact, Aaron - never existed, and that Norton's character simply concocted an elaborate lie, such that he would spend a few months in an asylum and then end up back on the streets soon enough.

---How ironic. Graves has a second personality, too. Except, both of his sucked. Edward Norton's (the actor) both rocked.

Brazil (name of movie)

Terry Gilliam's entrancing, dream-like dystopian sci-fi is an unforgettable film, in large part due to its unexpectedly bleak ending.

Sam Lowry (Jonathan Price) is an office drone who, when following up on an administrative snaffu, winds up a wanted man, presumed to be a terrorist by those in charge. After being captured, it appears that he is sprung from his captivity, and reunited with his former flame, allowing him to live out the rest of his days in peace.

But of course, at the end, it's revealed that none of this - at least the happy stuff - ever took place, and Lowry is still a prisoner; the film's haunting final imagery is of Sam in a torture room, catatonic and clearly having lost his mind.

---How ironic is this? Graves seems to think this is a happy go lucky feel good story, but in reality he is still getting his ass kicked time and time and time again---proving that any success from him is simply that---an illusion.

Wicker Man

Unquestionably one of the most famously bleak - and downright brilliant - endings of all time is Robin Hardy's sublimely creepy British horror film. Edward Woodward is sensational as police sergeant Neil Howie, who receives a letter begging him to venture to an isolated island in order to investigate the disappearance of a young girl there. Howie obliges, but soon finds himself very much out of his comfort zone, if not only for the fact that the locals don't think him welcome, but that they also are practitioners of the Celtic pagan religion. Howie, a staunch Christian, is unsettled from the outset.

But it gets a lot worse for old Howie, unfortunately; we discover that there is no missing girl, and Howie was simply a poor shmuck lured to the island in order that he could besacrificedby the pagans, in the hope that after a terrible harvest last year, such a sacrifice would appease the Gods and provide them with a bountiful yield next time.

Howie is placed inside the titular wicker man, which is then set on fire; the disturbing final images are of Howie helplessly sitting inside it, as the flames creep up and prepare to devour him.

---It only gets worse for Graves. He is inevitably placed inside the Wicker Man here. He is coming to Carson like Howie went to the island to face the pagan antagonists....and it will end just the same for him.....his career and reputation going up in a ball of flame.

Seven

At the film's climax, a man named John Doe (Kevin Spacey) hands himself into the police, saying that he will confess to the killings if the police will escort him to the location of the last two corpses.

At the remote location, a box is delivered to the two detectives, and inside is the severed head of Pitt's wife (Gwyneth Paltrow), who at the time had been pregnant with their child. If this represents the sixth sin, envy, then Pitt's subsequent rage-fueled murder of Doe is wrath, completing Doe's "masterpiece" and in death, allowing him to beat the protagonist in every way imaginable.

---How funny......because the protagonist would be beaten in every way imaginable on Saturday night.

Silence of the Lambs

The Vanishing

The Usual Suspects

The list goes on.

Chris smiled to himself once more. The best movies make for a bad guy victory. The bad guy would win again at SAVAGE.

EVERYTHING BECOMES..................CHAOS

The black Nissan Frontier SL rental car pulled up to the StubHub Center, heavy metal blasting. The music and the engine cut simultaneously, and the door swung open. Out stepped a jeaned leg, True Religions, with white Puma tennis shoes.

It was Chris Chaos. Chris Jackson, by birth.

He grabbed his gym bag out of the back and slung it over his shoulder.

He tossed his key to the valet. Damn, valet. Maybe Kato DID know what he was doing.

Shocking.

The 28 year old superstar made his way toward his locker room, when he was stopped by the new XWF intern and interviewer, hired to replace Steve Sayors whom Chaos had put through a window after Warfare. His name didn't matter, Chris didn't pay these minimum wage motherfuckers the time of day anyway. He would, however, entertain this little twerp today because he knew what the young man was going to ask and he wasn't finished talking about it quite yet.

"Chris....Chris....on behalf of the XWF community can I have a word with you?!"

Stopping, turning towards the young man, he grinned.

"Of course you can, kiddo. What do you want to know?"

His tone was etched bit a hint of sarcasm.

"Well, Chris, how are you feeling only hours before the biggest match of your career?"

"Well, let me start by correcting your statement. I now you are new and may not understand exactly who I am. This is not the biggest match of my career, this is the biggest match of Micheal Graves's career. The biggest match for me was the elimination chamber. This is just another obstacle in the life of a champion. Sure, te deck is stacked, but this is the ingrediants that make a champion. I know that by some divine province,this would all somehow make sense. So, to answer your question, in the waking hours before the second biggest match of my career, I certainly have goosebumps. I have butterflies in my stomach, but I am confident all the same. I feel like I am going to win."

"But you feel like you can win despite the cards being stacked against you in this match?"

"I always feel like they are stacked against me. I always feel like I have a giant bullseye on my back. Anyone who can take me out, to end the chaos, will do so in a heartbeat. There are 3 other competitors in this company that all want me gone for good, and its every man for themselves. Graves doesn't want to end me, but he would like to have the title around his waste and not mine all the same. Yes, I feel like the cards are stacked against me, but I wouldn't have it any other way. It is all part of my legacy, my story, my legend. To overcome all odds and beat Graves in a 1-on-1 match, sure it would be great, but the fact that I will do it with so much going AGAINST me would be the story book ending. Movie quality. Oscar worthy. The bad guy will win tonight. He HAS to."

"Wow, okay. Well, do you think you have time for a few more?"

Glancing at his Movado watch, he nods.

"A few more, but make it snappy kid. I've got brutality waiting."

"You certainly do. Do you feel like this match will define your career as well as his?"

"As I have said already, no. But as I think about it I guess I could say, that, in a way, yes. As much as I will say it was my matches with Dolly and her father, Dillinger, The chamber, Gabe Reno---it wasn't. It will be what I do tonight. Graves has a big mouth. He has had quite a bit to say lately, hasn't he? I hate him with every inch of my being. Now I get to come back at him with the rage of a tsunami and the force of a wrecking ball. Graves tonight, is Jason Corrigan. Graves tonight has taken on a new persona....of a man who has caused me so much pain and anguish, physically, mentally, emotionally---it would only be proper to return the favor. Hammarabi's code, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Graves has it coming, and you bet your ass he's going to get it."

"Okay, last one Chris, I know you have to prepare. How do you feel about---"

Chris cuts him off.

"Micheal Graves is a sniveling little rat who has been spoon fed this opportunity by the puppeteers at the top. Someone is pulling the strings around here, and I am about to cut the rope. The bullshit ends here, the Micheal Graves feel good story ends tonight. I will take the this pretty boy bologna fucker out if it is the last fucking thing I do. I will make him suffer. I will define HIS career after tonight. He will always be remembered as the man who had a promising career ended abruptly by the man who will go down as the greatest to ever do it. Remember what I said about heroes and villains? Everyone will remember the bad guy, and Micheals's comic-book run reaches its final page tonight....end dialogue bubble."

He grins at the young commentator, and walks away.

The intern beams, knowing he just got a classic interview with the Universal Champion

[i][color=#DCDCDC]Jenny and Bruce are now seen on the screen. The three walk off into the arena as fans begin to pile in the front. FUCKING SAVAGE has never seen anything like what is about to happen.

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FACT

"This entire thing has done nothing but made me more hungry. You claim to be an animal backed into a corner---so am I. I even more so than you. I actually have something to lose here. But let me ask you....how does it feel to act like a star? How does it feel to know that you have come this far and have walked smack into a dead end? You have never faced anyone quite like me. You have never been in the ring with someone who doesn't care what they do to another human, like me. If this were a normal match, no title involved, sure, maybe it would be close. Maybe you'd "push to the limit", but Paul Heyman actually screwed you here worse than he screwed me. He tried to stack the coal on top but all he did was light the flame. I am going to hurt you, Graves, and I am going to hurt you badly. You can continue to claim that I am afraid, that I am nervous, that I see my belt slipping away. But the TRUTH is that I have NEVER been more motivated in my life. Sure, I may come off as a cocky prick, but inside I am somewhat human. My entire life I have been trying to prove to everyone around me that I deserve to be a star. I deserve the good things in my life. I DESERVE to be Universal Champion. Sure, I ran my mouth. Boo hoo. I am not a champion who is going to back down to disrespect. Now, you seem to think I am afraid of you? You're delusion is staggering. It is baffling. You may think that I am putting on an image, an acting job, a hard exterior shell. No. I am simply stating that I feel I truly am the best professional wrestler on planet earth. You want me to bring my A game, you want me to push you? Well, you just poked a Grizzly Bear, and this Bear hasn't eaten in a long, long time. You just stuck your foot in a bear trap, and I am going to close it shut tomorrow night. I am going to hear the bones crunch as it snaps shut. You see, until somebody proves me wrong I am going to keep this mentality up. Why wouldn't I? Every loss I have suffered have been a product of somehow getting screwed. Be it hit by a weapon or ganged up on. The ONLY loss I suffered was my first one, and that was my mistake. I was rusty, I hadn't wrestled in over a year and a half, and I was just getting back into the swing of it. Since then, I have been hit with a fire extinguisher (Dillinger), had the tights grabbed after my partner tried to screw me before the match (Bourbon), fell into the Atlantic and was helpless to do anything as Nixon lost to Reno, then was hit by a chair (Reno on Lethal Lottery). My draws? Ravenwolf pulled some magic trick and made us disappear into another dimension and fell into a double pin with Kitt Kennedy. What is my point here? My point is I haven't been PINNED CLEANLY since early AUGUST. Sure, my record has a few blemishes, but you need to cheat to beat me. Hell, even when you DO cheat, most of the time it doesn't work. Reno pulled out every stop possible in our one on one match, and I prevailed. Peter Gilmour tried every trick in the book, and I still Equalized him and pinned his ass 1-2-3. Why would Savage be any different? You can claim I have beaten nobodies all you want, but I do have a handful of upper echelon talent on my victim list. Dolly Waters--Equalized, her father Muddy Waters---Equalized, Peter Gilmour--Equalized, Gabe Reno--Equalized, 5 of the best talents in the world inside a mile of steel--Equalized. You have wins over X Vega and Random. Your upper echelon performance is nothing but L's. Sure, you "fought a good match", but that doesn't matter to anyone. Why would anyone think that you can hang? Hell, you even being in the main event is an accomplishment for you. You can talk a big game all you want about how you are better than you have shown, about how the face paint and bologna masturbation weren't really you....but I have PROVEN every single night that I am the man to beat here. I have a target on my back the size of the Western Hemisphere. Everyone wants to be the one to take me out, but to date nobody has been successful. I have taken on all comers and my record shows exactly how that went.

You may think I am stressed. And I am. I have Gilmour wanting a shot again. I have Gabe Reno breathing down my neck. After Savage I have a four day turnaround and have to face a very game Thaddeus Duke in a first blood match. The very same Thaddeus Duke that defeated you. I have a laundry list of possible competitors, and you are just a number on that list.

Champions are SUPPOSED to win these matches. My legacy will be defined by how I perform under pressure. By how I rise to the occasion. You claim that you will rise up to adversity? Who has more adversity than me? Who has more to lose than me? I have a legacy to uphold as well as a title to defend. You have a match where all you need to do is look good. You need to perform. But I need to WIN. There is more riding on me winning than you winning, and that is a FACT. Do you really think the "New Era" of this company should get ushered in by someone like you? Someone who pretends to suck to bait in champions? Someone who makes up excuses about demonic possession to cover up their short comings and pal's around with a charity case for Autism Awareness month shouldn't be the "Face of the XWF". This company needs a fearless leader who is going to rule with an iron fist. This company needs someone who is going to protect and serve the toughness and sheer grit that the word XTREME encompasses. You aren't extreme, Graves. You pretend to be. You tell yourself you are so you can justify what you see in a mirror. You tell yourself that you are a king figure, but all you truly are is a pawn. Sure, there will be some people in Carson rooting for you, cheering you on, hoping to God above that you find a way to defeat me and slay the tyrannical leader. There will be people who want you to rise up and be the hero. But, those only happen in story books and Disney movies. How ironic. You go to Disney on a week you need a happy ending. Let me tell you how the world works. The world is a cruel place. There are no happy endings in real life. There is just pain.....just suffering......just the weight of reality pressing down with the force of gravity onto the chest cavity of those fake hero's who try to be brave in the face of the worst fear imaginable. The hero win's in movies, Graves, but in real life it is the villain who pushes ahead."

They Say Evil Prevails When Good Men Fail To Act.....What They Ought To Say Is....Evil Prevails

"So on the eve of the movie worlds biggest night, why not write a new script? Why not make a movie that can be related to? Why not make a movie that touches on how it really is? I am writing a script here, Graves, and in MY movie the bad guy wins. I will be providing you your own Oscar, Micheal. Your own for "best supporting actor". You are the supporting role in my movie, and this one will be a box office blockbuster. But in the end, the fans will leave with the pit in their throat that is only found when reality strikes. Look at American Sniper. Chris Kyle, the hero, was killed at the end of the film. Everyone got up and left without saying a word. It was powerful. There was no clapping, no talking back and forth. Just silence as reality set in. That is how Savage will go off the air. I will be standing over the broken, holding MY TITLE high in the air and bloody body of the hero will lay before my feet with a barely a pulse. The crowd will leave, and it won't hit them until they get to the car. Then, when they finally come to terms with what they say they will have no choice but to say "Damn....we just witnessed greatness...."

So keep telling yourself you are a hero. Keep telling yourself you can beat me. Keep telling yourself that I am scared, that I am worried, that I know I have messed up. Keep telling yourself that you are better than me. Keep acting......you're getting pretty good at it. Maybe if this wrestling thing doesn't work out you have a career in Hollywood.

For the role for best delusional supporting actor who will LOSE to the REAL HERO of professional wrestling........

The Oscar Goes To........

Micheal Graves.

Prepare to be Equalized."

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END CREDITS.

Fin.

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XWF RECORD: 22-5-2
XWF UNIVERSAL CHAMPION: 1x (Current)

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