The wrath of a pissed off Father is very demeaning. It can leave a part of your heart ice cold and darker than a sealed cave under a mile of earth. You know the kind of cave that nothing could probably survive in. Let alone try to make it a home. A spot so frosted no flame could melt. So dark no light could ever brighten. Yeah that kind of scar on the heart and soul, nothing would be able to heal or cover it up. Forever the shame of disappointing your Father to the point his wrath is necessary. Exactly the feeling I was trying to chew on when I noticed the referee’s body underneath my feet. No, not exactly then, who would have thought that would have mattered. Not myself anyways. It wasn’t until they announced Robbie “Fucking” Bourbon the winner that I knew what was to come from my Father. For sure it wouldn’t be his fault, this was the second time I failed to achieve victory against the same man. Wrath would consume myself if I were in his shoes. Most children would make excuses, I had none, and I was trained better. Even if I had a legitimate excuse my honor and pride would keep my tongue still. Father Slathe typically just another perverted, humorous, and wise older man. Disappoint him well that’s when all shit hits the fan. Disappoint him multiple times. Well, just hold your head high and focus on something like you’re Gandhi himself. Take your punishment like a believer of your spirituality and show no weakness. The Truth is I failed; I let down Htaed, my people, and most importantly to myself, my Father...

March 18, 2017
Oracle Arena
Oakland, California

Fade in...

My hands grasp my masked head not knowing how I could have lost. Looking over to Father Slathe I instantly see the rage in his eyes. His wrath growing as every second passes. This is impossible; I had the match won for crying out loud. My arms drop holding them out at a ninety-degree angle in front and to the side of my torso. Father Slathe with almost visible steam rising out of his ears begins stalking towards my way. Knowing that I just need to accept my punishment, completely disciplined I hold my position. Even while he removes his leather switch from his robes and raises it in the air swifter than I had ever seen. Shhwack! Shhwack! Shhwack! Instantly after becoming of range, Father Slathe unleashed three lashes to my forearms with his leather switch. Ripping cloth and flesh I don’t flinch or bother even to wince, knowing it would just provoke more pain. Keeping my chin held high, my stare straight and forward like a well-disciplined soldier should. Feeling the blood trickle from the slashes down my forearm to my gloved hands. Suddenly the sound of a few drops almost breaks my concentration. Splash. Splash. Splash. Father Slathe huffs and puffs for a second before he walks around to my backside. His hand grasping the leather switch pushes forcefully toward the ramp, roaring commands like an angry Hulk.

Father Slathe: “Move you pathetic excuse of a warrior! You are a complete shame and disgrace to the Community of The Truth, Htaed, and most importantly myself! Move quickly, I mean like your boots are on fire. Backstage now!”

Mr. Tidbits: “Yes Father as you wish. I have failed you again, please allow me to accept my punishment for my failure.”

Just as I finish responding to Father Slathe his closed fist beams me in the back of my skull. Knowing he wants me to move quicker I begin a fast pace jog up the ramp. Father Slathe right on my heels whipping the back of my neck just enough to cause irritation. Also play mind games with one, not knowing if the next whip will be hard enough to trigger pain sensors. My feet shuffle up the ramp one after another, quickly back through the curtain, down the hall, and toward my locker room. Passing by superstars, security, and other staff/employees of the XWF. When suddenly Steve Sayors and a camera crew tag behind us. Father Slathe must have not noticed at first. Making it all the way to our locker room, I halt in front of the door but with enough space for someone to open and enter before me. Father Slathe steps around me and unlocks the locker room door. Swinging the door wide open he turns back toward me with one arm gesturing to come in, when he notices Steve Sayors.

Father Slathe: “Sorry Mr. Sayors we aren’t conducting any post match interviews right now. My pet and I need to have some alone time first. Maybe in a few days child?!”

Steve Sayors: “Father Slathe, I know it must be very embarrassing for The Truth to have been beaten by Robbie Bourbon not once but twice now. Please, I am begging you, if I need to I’ll even get on my knees. I need this interview, the XWF universe deserve this interview. You for sure seemed to know the outcome of the match before it started but your predictions weren’t the truth. Please give me something Father Slathe?”

Father Slathe: “Mr. Tidbits get in the locker room my pet. Mr. Sayors doesn’t understand the importance of us starting your period of PUNISHMENT! Don’t get comfortable or anything though, I will be joining you in a tidbit. Go Now!”

Nodding in agreement my feet scurry past Father Slathe. Taking my body into the locker room. Father Slathe slams the locker room door behind me. I press my ear up to the door trying to listen in on what is being said.

Steve Sayors: “Oh my god, thank you so much Father Slathe. You won’t believe the amount of Twitter chatter pertaining to the Cage Match. Lot of people are starting to talk as if The Truth is just a joke. Your pet Mr. Tidbits isn’t as destructive and violent as you claim. How do you feel about these claims Father?”

Father Slathe: “Mr. Sayors please with all due respect, I need to attend to Mr. Tidbits. Can we please just schedule another time at my convenience of course?”

Steve Sayors: “Father Slathe the guys are already all geared up, here, and the camera’s are rolling. I promise it won’t be long if you would just cooperate and answer a few simple questions. The people have a right to know what Mr. Tidbits corner is going to focus on. How does The Truth plan to take on the Universal Champion at some point? If Mr. Tidbits doesn’t even have what it takes to grab the gold ring and obtain the Hart Championship Title.

Father Slathe shakes his head looking straight into the camera. He then raises his free hand in the air like a pistol and pretends to blow his brains all over the door behind him. Father Slathe then looks back toward Steve Sayors who is holding a microphone out for Father Slathe to reply. Father Slathe smacks the microphone out of Sayors’ hand with a devilish grin. Steve Sayors bends down to pick the microphone up off the ground. Father Slathe turns around drops his pants and raises his robes revealing his bare white hairy ass. Sayors grabs the microphone and as he bends back toward the standing position Father Slathe lets a juicy wet fart rip. Sayors is staring down the barrel of Father Slathe’s turd cutter as it puckered up and then blew out a shit particle kiss. Most likely going to leave Sayors with pink eye. Sayors falls back on his ass with a look of disgust and disgrace. Father Slathe chuckles out loud and in a quick couple of seconds his brow furrows again and the laughter draws silent.

Father Slathe: “Dammit Sayors I tried to be fucking nice! I respectfully declined the interview multiple times. Yet your career driven self had to go and put oneself in this predicament you find yourself in now. You know the one where the harsh, cold, and hard TRUTH of reality sets in. You know the people do deserve to hear the gospel. Just as much as Htaed deserved to see a violent and glorious battle, yet he was disappointed! Sometimes Mr. Sayors the world doesn’t rotate around us. Sometimes our faith is tested. Sometimes it is our strength.”

Steve Sayors finishes wiping his eyes as he climbs to his feet dusting his pants off. Father Slathe pretends to swing a closed fist, making Steve Sayors stumble back into a trashcan. The trash can tips over spilling trash all over the halls of the Oracle Arena. Father Slathe points toward the camera then to Steve Sayors letting out a couple more seconds of laughter. His demeanor quickly changes back to the pissed off, wrathful Father who had been interrupted by Child Services. Steve Sayors shakes his head as he checks for stains or any trash stuck to his attire. After a thorough over look of his appearance he raises the microphone to his mouth before speaking.

Steve Sayors: “What the hell? Did the XWF universe strike a little nerve with some of their questions and concerns? We know it must be rough having lost two chances at obtaining gold here in the XWF. At least you are being given a third chance at Lethal Lottery. Instead of soaking like a pissed off lady, you could be thankful for another opportunity that the majority of the XWF and the Universe don’t agree with! Including myself.”

Father Slathe’s grip on his leather switch tightens as his knuckles begin to turn purple. Steve Sayors notices his last remarks sent the water boiling over the pot. Just as he begins to turn to run away from the wrathful Father Slathe who has clearly angered. The leather switch strikes like a rattle snake in the desert across the back of Steve Sayors. Father Slathe then delivers a devastating double axe handle to the back of Steve Sayors’ neck. Sending the XWF interviewer Steve Sayors smashing flat to the cement floor. Father Slathe then stands over top Steve Sayors with a sickening smirk.

Father Slathe: “Here is how this interview is going to go down. Since you believe the people strongly deserve to hear my opinions and thoughts. I’ll give you what you want. Only to be fair though you are going to receive a violent beating for Htaed. Since I strongly believe he deserves what I have promised! So your first question was more of a beg and plead to even partake in the interview. That was the first lash and double axe handle.

Now lets answer that second question for you Mr. Sayors. How did I not see the real outcome of the match? Well like I said some things happen to test your faith. So what if Mr. Tidbits lost the match, he will be dealt with properly. Did you see the carnage he wreaked inside the cage? Did the fans that sit on their Asses all day twiddling their thumbs over a phone screen watching? Just because he lost doesn’t mean he didn’t display the characteristics of a monster. So you and all the rest of the naysayers can have your opinions. Time will only show just how monstrous Mr. Tidbits really is! Now it is time for Htaed to receive a showing of violence.”

Steve Sayors: “Please no, forgive me, the people don’t deserve The Truth!”

Father Slathe smiles sadistically and begins to whip Steve Sayors on his left shoulder. Followed by his right, not quite as hard and ferocious as he whipped Mr. Tidbits earlier. Not even enough to rip cloth, but for sure was going to leave welts.

Father Slathe: “I’m so glad we could come to a solution for both of our problems. Time to move on to your next question my child. What will we focus on next, well now that we have been informed of our third chance we will focus on it. Mr. Bourbon will be our main concern!”

In a soft and crying whimper Steve Sayors speaks.

Steve Sayors: “Robbie Bourbon won’t be his only opponent. It is a fatal four way, first pin or submission wins. Robert Main and LJ Havok will also be participating in the match.”

Father Slathe acts as if he is going to whip Steve again. Steve covers his head with his trembling arms.

Father Slathe: “You really shouldn’t interrupt people when they are speaking Mr. Sayors. It is a very disrespectful gesture, be more professional. I’ll let it go though since it was important information for this interview to be accurate. So you answered your own question then. We will be focusing on Mr. Bourbon, Mr. Main, Mr. Havok, and the Hart Championship Fatal Four way. Of course after Mr. Tidbits punishment period has been received.

Then of course the comments on if we could handle a Universal Championship match. I believe that was answered when Mr. Tidbits beat Chris Chaos, the XWF Universal Champion. Sometimes things happen and plans fail, that doesn’t mean Mr. Tidbits isn’t deserving of a Universal Title shot. Now the for the fun part!”

Father Slathe steps to the left side of the fallen Steve Sayors. Father Slathe then begins kicking in Steve’s ribs, stomping, kicking, over and over again. With the occasional lash of his leather switch now and again, Father Slathe drops to his knees. Grabbing Steve by the head, he begins smashing Steve’s face into the concrete floor about six times in total. Father Slathe then lets go of Steve’s skull, dropping him face first in a puddle of his own blood.

Father Slathe: “Mr. Main, Mr. Bourbon, and Mr. Havok I hope you all have a chance to watch. You see Mr. Tidbits maybe coming off of a big loss, that doesn’t mean The Truth, is down and out. We will meet you all at Lethal Lottery with no smiles on our face. Nothing but rage, violence, and redemption will be pumping through our veins. Our Savior won’t be disappointed come Lethal Lottery. Neither of you children will be able to take away what is owed. Mr. Tidbits will have the fear of Htaed instilled in him during his Punishment Period. He won’t want to disappoint ever again, his brain won’t allow him to disappoint our faith again. Not after he feels the wrath of his Father and our Father Htaed! The disappointment he will bear alone will give him the drive to desecrate anyone and everything on our path. The Hart Championship may have slipped through our grasp twice already. Truth be told we won’t let it a third!”

Father Slathe then kicks Steve over on his back and begins to lash his chest profusely. Until the camera crew begins to pull Father Slathe away as the camera cuts to static.

Fade out.