(continued from backstory in "Boston Bout" and "Keep Talking")



-December 10, 2011-


Checking Account Balance: $23,177.03


I'd spent $26,822 and 96 cents in less than two months.

Throughout November I'd gone on an eBay auction spree for comic books and Christmas presents...though mostly comics and nearly all for myself.

Marvel silver age first appearances in CGC slabs, all mid to high rating, all unbeknownst to me at the time fated for "fuck you" resale sums in a few years to make rent. And while I'd been addicted to the auctions, enabling my craze for collecting the debuts of my favorite villains and small selection of heroes...I'd done so with the idea of passing them on to Amethyst far into the future, so...technically, as I saw it, it wasn't foolish or selfish at all.

I made sure to send $400 in Christmas cash to my brother, his wife and my two nephews, a c-note each. That was generous, especially given the fact he got the same amount of money I did from the beneficiary payout, was a near-retired part time professional wrestler as well with a savings, an engineering position at Lockheed Martin and a wife who ran her own magazine.

I'd spent a few thousand on Holly; around $600 on holiday gifts for her to open Christmas day and the rest I'd been shelling out upon every request that crossed her lips.

I'd also spent a few grand on medical marijuana, walkin' into our favorite local clinic on the regular for weeks like a big shot, laying down hundreds at a time.

Everything I've done with that 26k had been out of fun in defiance of post-parental death depression, necessity or for future benefit. I did what I had to do.

That's what I tell myself as my palms begin sweating, staring at my smartphone screen. 23k is, of course, _still_ a lot of money to have in my account- hell, it's annual earnings for a lotta people. It's just...not _49_k...and I suddenly feel a lot less rich.

I have to be careful from now on, no more comics, I have enough, no more frivolous spending. The baby is coming, thank Christ for medical insurance but...we need somethin' goin' if I'm gonna be able to keep this cushion. I haven't been in a wrestling ring since my mom passed away and Holly's been on maternity leave...we need income. Now.

I rise from my easy chair, slide open the glass door and step out onto my 3rd floor apartment balcony overlooking Belmont Shore. I'll talk to my brother about signing up with the UWF early next year. Obviously I'll apply for some jobs tomorrow at the earli-

Wait a fuckin' second......fuck _work_, I should grow _weed_! I've done it once already, I could get started right away, find a part time job and in 4 months, money. With a perpetual grow it's constant flow.

Now where to do it......we need somewhere I can set up a much larger grow than what I did in the garage to help my mother...... I need privacy as well. Gettin' away with sproutin' large sums o' stank in a neighborhood is unlikely.

I include Holly in the discussion, she suggests Phelan, California. The high desert.

I make a disgusted face. "Why the hell would I wanna go there, baby? Grow weed in the desert? The fuck?" I'd been there twice to visit her parents with her, I already knew it sucked.

"You said you were doing this indoor, right? Don't you control the weather in a grow room?"

"It's not that simple baby, climate control is expensive."

"Well it's still the best idea for privacy with a big grow."

She's got a point there......I'll sleep on it but it I guess it's more than likely the high desert for us all in 2012...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"Tidbitch & Danny Imperiled"



-Friday April 21 2017, 11:13 PM LOCAL-

-Mass Audubon's Boston Nature Center and Wildlife Sanctuary-


The XWF had sent a camera crew to meet me for this one. Official promotion documentation had smoothed over the request for an after hours stroll and promo through the wildlife sanctuary. And so they follow, filming, winding along the first concrete then dirt trail along with me, cold night air and cruel breeze rustling through the leaves of the branched canopy above.

To some, uninviting.

Not to me.

I love nature. Especially in the dark.

"A fitting setting for my third and final vignette, a forest at night. Danny, you're the douchebag smarty-pants prick, this mean anything to you? Probably not without the help of Google, am I right? Seein' as how you aren't nearly as intelligent as you want others to believe you are. Or as confident for that matter. Youre taking the same route now as so many before you, finally understanding just how hard I hit back, opting to camp it out rather than get your entire argument blown to pieces for the third time. You know what you _fail_ to understand? This strategy doesn't work against me. I guess that's one more thing you overlooked when you 'checked into me', moron. Allow me to demonstrate with my final rundown...

Daniel you most certainly have skill but you've discovered it isn't as potent as you previously thought. You allowed yourself to believe you were one of the better talents walking in here...then you met me in verbal warfare. Now you're second guessing yourself, having twice been shut down so effectively in debate and you're hiding, uncomfortable in making any sorta timely move because you now KNOW you can't match wits with me...and it frightens you.

You're wondering what it's going to be like to suffer your first loss in the XWF, the spirit you entered into this donnybrook with all but extinguished, your heart withering. It would seem the Imperial is nothing more than the peasant in the presence of the true king, Caedus. Now make like your fansite avatar and crawl, motherfucker, crawl before me like a cur. Drag those legs behind you as you slide up like the slick you are and suck my balls for mercy before I decide to break those legs instead and force you to legitimately hafta pull your worthless ass around henceforth.

I'm sure you'll not let this all go with only two video promos and throw in the towel, Dummy. I expect one, last, desperate Hail Mary from your panicky ass even if I and the rest of the XWF know it won't be enough to prevent the inevitable. What more can you say now anyway, I've robbed you of credibility, anything you say now can and will make you look even worse. Fuck it...give it your best shot, shithead. We'll see how far it gets you.

Tidbits...the coward unwilling to face life without that cult The Truth led by the hypocritical Father Slathe who denounces Ax3 and myself for being a team. Do you listen to yourself when you speak you punkass pontificatin' cocksucker? Familiar with the widely overused expression 'the pot callin' the kettle black'? Slathe...you're a complete fucking idiot and you're fulla shit.

You say you don't care about titles...well, thats because Tidbitch can't seem to win any. It's convenient to snub a hot chick after she already turned you down, dipshit, don't act like the XWF can't see through your rhetoric just because your chapel-full of and the gimp fall for it. Christ alfuckinmighty, you shoulda outsourced the brain reprogramming, Slathe, neither you nor anyone else in The Truth need be involved if improvement is the desired effect. Like the blind leading the blind, the dumb leading the dumb can have no positive effect, you haven't been clever enough to do a goddamn thing for that jag-off before, how will you bring anything of value to his kiddie table _now_? This ain't the fuckin' Matrix, motherfucker. Accept that you suck, The Truth is a joke and Tidbits is enhancement talent. That's it. 'Oh, but THIS time my pet is super-DUPER powerf-' shut the fuck up, Father. Your pet ain't shit.

So Htaed is death spelled backwards is it? Congratulations, 'The Truth' behind your fake ass deity is even lamer than I imagined. No, it isn't that I lack brain cells, it's that you'd hafta be a low IQ queer in the first place to assume an _adult male_ is simply too lazy to name his false God anything epic and simply flips a word around instead. Jesus...go write fantasy fan fiction, and stop grasping at straws like the loser you are, focusing on my single statement on skrimp meant to compare a _theoretical_ fuck up that actually would've gotten you a bit of sympathy, whereas flipping words around is just pathetic and screams 'I smoke too much Beelzebub bud and can't be bothered with a creative level past that of a third grader'. Yes, Slathe, talk about my cock, you gay bitch, you've been takin' it up the ass for 2 days now.

You spent the rest of your time in promo wasting it, Slathe. Jumping to conclusions I never introduced...claiming Tidbitch ran off Robbie Bourbon of all people? Did you really infer that before giving Tidbits credit for sending Suicide Jack-off packing? Like Tits not getting pinned in that match, neither does he play any role in the Bourb's absence. Unfuckingbelievable, how delusional are you? As for Suicide Jack, yeah, I agree, that's what happens when you lose to a loser, you kill yourself in shame. You think that's something to brag about? Talent leaves pertaining to a loss because they don't believe they deserved it, fuck-up. When a man like myself defeats opponents, they KNOW they deserve it and find no humility in it. That Truth enough for you? You're pet is the measuring stick for suck, Slathe, nothing more.

In fact, I dont need to continue this tirade any further. Without a shadow of a doubt Tidbits and Danny Imperial just are _not_ in my league no matter how hard they try. I thought I'd be getting a right exciting event here...thanks a lot for letting me down, dickheads. Fuck enhancement talent. I'm Jim Caedus and boys...your time is up."
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