After the show has gone off the air, Father Slathe and I stand behind the curtains backstage to the ring entrance ramp. Out amongst the audience, some fans are scurrying about in a rush to get through the exit. The true hardcore fans are still standing in ovation for every superstar who wrestled their heart out. The fans are screaming at the top of their lungs, "Savage! Savage! Savage!" When suddenly the lights all around the arena explode, well at least effects make the illusion as if they did. Smiling under my mask as the arena falls to darkness after the embers and sparks of the explosion die.

"Halo" by All That Remains blasts over the PA, around the twenty-second mark when the rift from the guitar becomes more aggressive. Father Slathe steps out from behind the curtains walking slowly down the ramp with me following behind like an enslaved zombie. The arena lights are now flickering on and off at a medium pace until Father Slathe makes it down to ringside. Ten foot gray and purple flames erupt from the turnbuckles as Father Slathe climbs the stairs to enter the ring between the middle and top rope, I follow about three feet behind. Once inside the ring, the flames die and the lights come back on full brightness. Father Slathe stands in the center of the ring with the XWF Television Title on his right shoulder and my towing chain tether slung over his left.

Father Slathe stands in the ring staring off into the abyss while I pace behind him sadistically, like a hellhound. “Halo,” begins to fade as the fans that were so quick to leave have run back in to witness a special gospel from Father Slathe. One of the ringside technicians toss Slathe a microphone, slowly Slathe raises the microphone to his lips.

Father Slathe: “Well would you look what is resting on my shoulder? For the blind or just plain stupid sheep listening or watching it is the XWF Television Championship! For those who believed from the beginning, this is all of ours. Htaed blessed us and allowed us to take spoils of WAR this time around. For those who still have disbelief in The Truth hopefully that changes before the warpath Htaed has us on reaches your front door. Tonight we do not celebrate, no, we pay thanks to our MASTER. We will send blessings and tribute to honor Htaed. Possibly even a sacrifice to bless our further battles for VIOLENCE and BLOODSHED!

Which brings me to my next concern. Who in the Hell makes the matches around here? Seriously though our booking talent is garbage, his mother should have left him in the dumpster. Danny Imperial versus Mister Tidbits round two a week after the first? The XWF management must have it out for Danny boy and I really was starting to like the kid. His skill and talent for being so fresh to the XWF are astonishing. If I was in charge of this gaggle fuck Danny boy would not be facing the new and even more depraved Mister Tidbits. Actually, you all can call him The Monster of Htaed now.

So Danny Imperial if you are in the back watching this. Beware when you meet my son in the ring again. He just won’t be looking different, his whole demeanor, character, and SOUL will be much more deadly. Darker, sicker, and even more twisted than when you met him just hours ago. Like last time, I would like to ask you to beg management to remove you from the match!? I would hate for you to have your career ended at the hands of whom I am responsible for. Yes, I control The Monster of Htaed, not after I give him the command to destroy and conquer. Nothing or no one will stop him until he fulfills his master’s command. Only Htaed himself could break him from his focus and dedication.

So if you think you are going to watch the match a million and eight times. It won’t matter one bit, what you would be watching would be as useless as a condom. What does it do help prevent having offspring? Just grab an old rusty coat hanger and make some delicious scrambled eggs! Why wouldn’t study old wrestling footage of my opponent help me with preparing for a match? Simple numb nuts, like I already said Mister Tidbits is no more, now you are dealing with wickedly depraved MONSTER! A monster that is going to taste Danny Imperial’s blood, break his spirit, and take part of his SOUL!

Danny do you like eggs? Maybe you could come and stay at the Slathe manor sometime and I could make you one of my SPECIAL Grand Slam Breakfast platters. Actually no, that probably wouldn’t be a good idea, you’re stomach most likely couldn’t handle all the blood. Almost everything my pet eats is raw, he enjoys the full taste of life and thrill of the kill. Especially for those who believe they can waltz right into the Monster’s lair, survive a losing battle and turn right around for another attempt. Now I know this is not your choosing, but I am sure you’ll be stubborn enough to believe you have a shot at redemption.

Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but the outcome will remain the same. Danny Imperial taking another loss and not quite reaching the next level. The Truth last time asked for the power of the believers and well they came through. Enough of Htaed’s children sent their prayers, beliefs, and even part of their souls to give Tidbits enough power to thrive, overpower, and destroy his enemy. Once Htaed saw his most powerful warrior lead the charge and claimed his spoils of war (Television Championship), he blessed his CHAMPION.

Htaed bestowed a tidbit of his power into Mister Tidbits’ life force. Changing him from man to the MONSTER you see pacing behind me ready to send souls to Htaed and his hounds of WAR! Even though it is just mere hours since my pet has displayed actions of violence his tolerance has increased drastically and I am sure it doesn’t plan on stopping. So now after every act of violence Tidbits will need more and more to keep under control. This is just a little of what is in store for you Danny! Run... I’m pleading with you child; The Monster of Htaed has experienced many wars, wars that make any war in this world child’s play.

No amount of training, advice, or enhancements will prepare you for this. It will not just be another wrestling match, it will be the day you learn The Truth and exactly how much it can HURT! Oh, and I am not talking to kind of hurt that some of these words might cause. It will be a devastating, soul-crushing, and desolate hurt. The hurt you’d feel if you found out your best friend is banging your lady, your loved ones were just murdered, and your dog evacuated its bowels in your wrestling boots right before the biggest match of your life. You probably are trying to suck start a pistol by now. Don’t do that some janitor at a cheap motel doesn’t want to have to deal with that mess tonight.

Yes, Danny life sometimes grabs you by the balls and whips your ass all over the place. Keeping you on edge and in pain, wondering where you will land next. My advice and I am a pretty solid advice giver, go before the men who are crushing your man marbles into a fine powder and ask for a different match. Not that adding a part of your soul to The Monster of Htaed’s life force wouldn’t be utterly and truly pleasing. Hell who wouldn’t want part of Danny Imperials skill, talents, and soul? I’d rather hopefully possibly one day have the whole Danny Imperial as a believer and apart of The Truth. Damn management doesn’t want that though and most likely Danny doesn’t either. Can’t say I didn’t try though.”

Just as Father Slathe finishes his last sentence VIOLENCE, MAYHEM, and BLOOD of Htaed commences through my body. My breathing begins to pick up like an angry bull with its nuts tied back like in a rodeo. Father Slathe must have heard my panting as he turns back and smiles while yanking on my chain I don’t budge. His smile disappears as he attempts to jerk me again but fails. The feeling of wanting to harm someone begins to cause the weaker body of Mister Tidbits to tremble. Not use to ever being in a human body before, not even sure if it would hold up if I were to completely rage. My left foot begins to stomp slowly but in rhythm, almost making the sound of war drums from simply slamming the sole of my boots to the wrestling ring canvas. Father Slathe turns back away shaking his head and raising the microphone to his face while speaking.

Father Slathe: “See believers of The Truth, The Monster of Htaed is already feeling empty and is craving more violence. Already starved, not getting enough violence out his disobedience flares. This is just the beginning of what is to come. Sending Danny Imperial to try and slay the monster, foolish and quite frankly it is SUICIDE. The Monster isn’t even near violence right now and he is starting to rage uncontrollably. Just from the talk about a situation with a high chance of a violent outcome and the beast is as excited as a fat kid gets over cake. Only difference Htaed’s monster is no fat kid and Danny Imperial is not just a slice of cake. We are talking a monster born from war and well a man who made his dreams come true as a professional wrestler...”

Looking amongst the fans all I notice is chests rising, veins pumping, and hearts beating. Rage, the will to inflict pain, and cause as much destruction as possible among the sheep becomes overwhelmingly exhausting. My muscles begin to tense underneath my long johns and overhauls before I take a jolt toward the ropes, almost knocking Father Slathe on the mat. He quickly catches his balance and uses all his strength to hold me off enough to speak one last time.

Father Slathe: “Dammit child! Well, it looks like Danny Imperial isn’t going to be the first to feel the magnitude of The Monster of Htaed’s hunger.”

Father Slathe then turns towards me and begins snapping his one free hand. My attention shot toward him like a hawk on a cottontail during a hunt. Father Slathe steps up just a few inches in front of my face. He chuckles insanely before patting my cheek a few times before opening his mouth.

Father Slathe: "Now if I release you from your chain and shackle, you will go and feast like we had discussed. Then return to your master when finished?”

Slowing my breathing letting Father Slathe I was in control, I nod my head yes in agreement. Father Slathe smiles viciously as he pulls a key on a necklace from under his robes. My eyes widen in excitement, knowing that the key is what can unlock the clasp from around my neck. Freeing me from my chains and would allow me to feed the abyss in my belly, the proper dosage of violence to tame the burn. Father Slathe looks to the fans, to my clasp, to the fans, and back to my clasp. The fans erupt in overwhelming joy, “Let him free! Let him free! Let him free!” Father Slathe grasps the back of my neck and slides the key into my collar lock and twists. Clunk! Clank! Laughing diabolically as my collar falls to the ground. I climb out of the ring and begin heading up the ramp as Father Slathe yells from the ring.

Father Slathe: “Feast my son, FEAST!”