[R A D I C A L]

F O L L O W E D II/II [ FLASHBACK I/II ] | | [ I didn't care anymore who heard me. Something had to be done, and it needed to be done by the Radical. I tore through the drywall once he had turned away. I tripped then got up and broke through the rest of the wall. Like a cheetah I pounced; when he turned back, I gave him a knee that will rock his testicles until Cosby comes clean about the "puddin' pops". I looked him in the eyes, and bent him toward me. A pull of the string, a grasp of the mask... and HA! WAIT! WHAATTTT!!?? YOU'RE NOT... NOT... YOU'RE... "DADDY'S LITTLE DOG"..? Cut off by the mad man- NOT WHO? A BURGLAR!? Well... yeah! CHRIS CHAOS!? PROBABLY, YES! WHY!? He was laughing at me, I think he forgot that there was still some serious explaining to do. Perhaps, a friendly reminder... So what the fuck was with the feather in my fetching, and the pictures on the tile at the bar, and stalking me at my house... and, a pink cell phone!?! OKAY! YES! I followed you home, and some of, okay, all of that other stuff. I was trying to warn you. I'm sorry, did you say A FETCHING? They were hints, Gabe. Ones you apparently didn't pick up. You were supposed to follow the directions on the tile, there was shit drawn, but if you had backed up it's entirety pointed to out front. So I had to come here... because you're... Slow. Was thinking more like distracted... but yours fits. Shit man. I am so sorry. Boy, I sure felt like an idiot. I am an idiot. Someone trying to lend a helping hand, and quite frankly, not picking up on those clues... I wondered how many more I may have missed. Blame game later, focus! On... His face went from friendly jubilation to straight hatred. I'd only seen that type of dramatic face change caused by one other being on this Earth. I knew what had to happen. We had to stalk, prey upon, and follow... CHAOS! PANDA! ] | | --------------------------- [ CONTINUED... ] We looked at each other in the pitch darkness. His face was covered in grime like he hadn't showered in days. Did I know him? If we were going to stalk Chaos, first, we needed some inside information. Where he would be, who he would be with, when... it was a virtual crapshoot otherwise. But he grabbed my arm just as I started to dial away on the phone to gather the intel... There's more. More..? You mean? I'm afraid so. He decided to show up. I wasn't sure I wanted to know anymore. After all, it's not like Chris Chaos is a lyrical or wrestling genius. He talks about memories, then does what can be only kindly referred to as "revisionist history". Rewriting the parts of the past he didn't like, to make himself sound... tougher? He pretends to know maneuvers he reads about in "O" magazine. What kind of wrestler is he? Was this really a threat... to me... again? What was this condom headed man trying to tell me. I could be wrong. He may know more than he's letting on. If he didn't, then why the subtle careful approach to tell me all this? The feather to now... it seemed like a ten buck approach for five dollar information. After feeling I had been followed and finding out it was a ploy to get my attention to warn me, my head was still spinning. PLUS, my archery would never be the same again. I now had to obsess over if the weight and feather count was right any time I used it. That alone, is enough to drive a man mad. Much less some blonde male bimbo running his mouth for the UMPTEENTH time. How much can one Radical take? Whatever it was... that he had to tell me... is likely vital to my match on Warfare. It could be the key to this whole thing that was about to come out of his mouth. I thought I should listen to the almost recognizable unhooded condom headed lookout. Chaos... said a bunch of cliché's about you being empty... on your last legs; in a promo on XWF television. Then he tried to make rhyme's that didn't work, and the audience was scared or falling asleep... and... well... he mentioned Caedus as misdirection. Trying to say that Jim deserved to beat him, but that you... that you didn't... twice! What's weird is against JIM CAEDUS he said the opposite! It was like a walking conundrum of uncertainty. HE SAID that you are also a Panda but that he poached you, but if he is a Panda too, isn't that a hate crime!? He recycled some stuff he used before, copied what you said, and... ANNDD... WHAT IS IT!? WHAT DID HE DO!? It's... the curtains. Chaos closed them! I don't know where we will get light to see our way through this! It was so tactful, so original... I just- So- Panda? He practically collapsed in my arms. Sobbing, not able to understand the methods of a sickly beast. He smelled like sweat and... sweat. I didn't have all the answers he was searching for. Why someone would be so self-deprecating that they didn't see reality... just to fuck up things by being soft, and white, and black. Where to begin to help him or myself was still unclear. I gave "Daddy's little dog" a big erratic hug; let him rest his head on my shoulder, ya know, until it got weird. I thought to myself that it was strange how weird moments always followed anything Chris said, like in the promo this guy described. And worse, Chaos had admitted to Panda poaching. A crime so intensely vile and self aggrandizing that it is punishable by making us all listen to him in future promos. Sorry about following you, Gabe, I didn't know what to do! It seemed like I had to tell you, but how!? I broke in here... to... to- Shhhhh. Shushy shush shush. He won't get away with it, friend. If there's one thing I know... it's how to beat the snot out of a runny Panda nose. A pat on the back to sooth the wounds of Chaos. He seemed more upset than he should be, inconsolable. Everyone handles grief in their own way, I guess. I was sick and tired of Chaos' shit for the last damn time. It was in this instant made clear; I had to bludgeon this virus with an ice pick. Not even loser bar bathroom tile writing 's like this guy were safe anymore. I had to step up to the plate. End the Chaos. It's okay, pal. I know what to do now. The unsettling man who still hadn't explained getting in to my house to plant the feather lifted his head off of my comforting shoulder. Sniveling in a disgusting but endearing way... if he wasn't so dirty... that is. None of that stuff he said about you is true- why would he even bother? It's slander... for what purpose? Can't he read? Is he really that pathetic? I wanted to say no, I really did... Pretty much. Tears streamed down his cheeks. I threw some tissue his way. Made him a drink, then waited for the police to arrive to take the home invader away. They knocked on the door, finally. He looked up at me as they tightened the handcuffs around his filthy wrists. A slight smile. Almost as if he was glad the ordeal was finally over. I'm counting on you... Gabe. Do what needs to be done! All he had told me starting to sink in. It dawned on me, just then, like a tons of bricks. I chuckled out loud. Of all the things to do, Chaos had forgotten one fatal flaw that stood out among the hundreds in his promo words. One thing that has been his undoing before, and will be again. Walking toward the door escorted by officers, "Daddy's little dog" turned back hearing my glee. What's so funny? Closing curtains, ha... Chaos doesn't know how to close. The cops push the intruder forward as the grin oddly disappears from his face. He looks back like the purpose was lost. Outside they load him in the squad car. I looked on out a window, noticing them take him away, but the 'favor' he did me would echo in my head for the rest of the night. Trying to sleep, tossing and turning. Even a dream of two Panda's running in a meadow, before one turns on the other. Was it a sign? I had to know more. Night surfing. I got online and started looking for other home invasions. I couldn't afford to miss anymore clues. I had to find anything that sounded like a warning. Were there more people like "Daddy's little dog"? Out there, hoping to help- but not sure how- and not willing to break the law like he was. But- Jesus H. SAMUELS! That's not what I found. Instead, I ran across descriptions of horrifying intrusions. Malicious group banging's like only Chaos would do. A horrible sight by any modern measure. Monstrous to behold. Stunning, yet, not surprising. In common they had a large figure with a knife baring down on a wife and child. Easy prey seemed to be the game. Rubbing my eyes, I dropped some Visine; unable to sleep or tear my pupils from the screen. They were red and itchy; just like the rash one home invader gave an old man in North Florida 2 weeks ago. I couldn't escape the feeling. It had been felt so many times before. Raging inside him. Then, it happened... No, PLEASE, GOD, NOOOO! My coffee cup was empty. The symbolism ate me up inside. It made me think- am I on my last legs? Could this be it? Put down by some queer who runs around naked in fur? All the thoughts had made me neglect the most recent search results on the monitor in front of me. I refilled the coffee. Turning to put the pot back down, I noticed something on the screen, then quickly ran back over to it. "Large Panda seen attacking homes, claiming to be warning people. He often has a sharp knife in one hand, with some leaves from outside in the other. One home owner ripped his suit a part trying to force him to leave. He is now wearing a condom like hood, and was last seen at a bar near San Diego. Once he enters a home, victims say that it shouts completely desperate lies and pandemonium to get you to let your guard down. If you have ANY information please call authorities immediately. There could be a unique case of Panda AIDS. He is believed to be armed, and possibly in a clear glass exhibit..." This was wild. "Daddy's little dog" fit this description... but he came here to warn me about Chaos, didn't he? What was all that crap about how bad the promo was... guilt? More fucking sorrowful guilt? An endless amount of shitty Chris Chaos guilt? Thick and putrid. Was that even him? Who knew? I walked around making sure everything was locked. There... in the corner of the room beneath some broken glass where he had entered... leaves... and a knife. That was NOOOO WARNINGGGG, THAT WAS PANDAAAAAAA! HOLY HELL! I WAS ABOUT TO BE MAULED! PANDA AIDS!? You might as well be the Kings errand boy. At least then you would serve a purpose. My patience is wearing thin, Pandy-wandy. Please, tell me about the past again, no you know what, I'd rather put a gun in my mouth. I actually have poseable lips. Unlike you. GOOOOD- how were you ever Champion... what epically legendary Universal Champion did you have to beat... oh, it was Scully, wasn't it? Luck of the draw. A man who, like you, hasn't realized his potential in months. Yet you boast about it like a high school cheerleader. Well, he may take you to the prom, and he may give you some shiny gold, but I will still rip it from your padded paws every fucking time. MINE! YOU pathetic Panda! Not only do you copy your own opponent (I'm sure no one will notice...), but you don't even put the time and effort in to do it right. What is this, the Special Olympics' qualifiers? Are you for real? You fucking . You like playing with curtains... already getting prepared for your next career, I see. The end of the line comes quick once you start nudging down father time's hill, doesn't it, Chris? Walking fallacy of what-if's in a world full of the definite. Confused is one way to say it. Another might be... awful. Terrible, manipulating yourself through the grandeur of yesterday. Fuck you. You were beat from day one and you knew it. Any thoughts of "getting even" or "retribution" left like your talent, six months ago. WHEN I TOOK IT ALL. Like a starving bear from another pack. Roaring and scratching at your eyes, until all you see is what you can remember. Intimidated already, Chris? Don't attack what you are. Worse yet, don't accuse me of being it. We could not be more different. Sure, we both have ego... who in this business doesn't? Once you end that reflective similarity, not much else compares between us... You, are a ghastly gas bag who gets off on the pain of others. I, like looking at SLAM magazine while having tea. You, look like a petrified mineral who can't even correctly wrestle the spelling of rock together(that's it, you're welcome). I, am a philanthropist, focused on the future success of what I WILL be in XWF. You, a delinquent, stinking up the back with tales of what you used to be back... whenever. I, enjoy breathtaking views over the veranda out to the courtyard when visiting my royal mates. You, scoop shit piles out from under carriages and smear them on the walls. I, am exalted any time I win a big match in my career. You, are so irresponsibly clumsy that you can't win those anymore. I, look handsome in a tuxedo. You, wear a hair tuxedo everywhere you roam. I, can be shy until I feel appreciated. You, are ashamed of who you are, which makes you... grumpy. Ew. A grumpy, phased out, passer by Panda. You can't adorably gallop from reality. It will engulf you in your typical petty drunken stupor, every time. You tried to warn me, about you? I'm not a priest, the confessional is over there. Absolution can be asked for, but it will not be given. I know how bad you are. Every morsel of gutlessness. Breaking into homes won't fill the thing you have never been able to get back, success. It's not a secret you have to find, Chris. It's been taken. Again and again. By the Erratic Enigma. XWF used to be big enough for the both of us. Now, you've been replaced. While I was off regaining my senses, you were still here... getting yours bashed in. Caedus is a real challenge, but I'm not? All I'm good for is a little... creativity? Interesting conclusion. Now say it without trembling. The grass in your mouth in starting to fall out into a puddle of slobbery goo. Don't invade people's houses to try to find answers. Don't be a queer to the guys in the back because they admired you before they got to know you. Count your lucky stars until Wednesday. Because I will take them once and for all. Luckily the authorities let you compete... because if they pieced the puzzle together like I have... BOOYYYY, you might just be locked up, in a zoo. Where you belong. With all the other things too stupid to escape. F O L L O W E D II: PANDEMONIUM | [ PANDA III ] Tassels, ay? Those nipples look stretched, must be painful; chaotic ripped flesh. Curtains open and close usually, on cue; when this match starts, the hook will pull on you. Wrecking a bitch has never been so easy, open your ears, and let the Radical remind you of just how sleazy; Chaos is a notion no one tries to be, lost in the shuffle, with buried Panda dreams. Damned is a word that rests on your shoulders, sweet as it is, before the Enigma makes them smolder. Fire in spit, still ahead of your bullshit; wise to the reasons, you still subject us all to this torment. Have you gotten red, or are you still blue; maybe Jenny can help, raise your fortitude. Previews are out for the way this match ends, given early, In case you might quit 'round the next bend. Denned is all the reality you neglect, now get down on your soft knee's, and give Papa Reno heck. ☆ W E D N E S D A Y N I G H T W A R F A R E v. C H R I S C H A O S | # 0 3 | ' R A D I C A L ' R E N O | X W F # 0 5 9 Check out Backstage Page for full list of XWF achievements.

[Gator]

F O L L O W E D II/II [ FLASHBACK I/II ] | | [ I didn't care anymore who heard me. Something had to be done, and it needed to be done by the Radical. I tore through the drywall once he had turned away. I tripped then got up and broke through the rest of the wall. Like a cheetah I pounced; when he turned back, I gave him a knee that will rock his testicles until Cosby comes clean about the "puddin' pops". I looked him in the eyes, and bent him toward me. A pull of the string, a grasp of the mask... and HA! WAIT! WHAATTTT!!?? YOU'RE NOT... NOT... YOU'RE... "DADDY'S LITTLE DOG"..? Cut off by the mad man- NOT WHO? A BURGLAR!? Well... yeah! CHRIS CHAOS!? PROBABLY, YES! WHY!? He was laughing at me, I think he forgot that there was still some serious explaining to do. Perhaps, a friendly reminder... So what the fuck was with the feather in my fetching, and the pictures on the tile at the bar, and stalking me at my house... and, a pink cell phone!?! OKAY! YES! I followed you home, and some of, okay, all of that other stuff. I was trying to warn you. I'm sorry, did you say A FETCHING? They were hints, Gabe. Ones you apparently didn't pick up. You were supposed to follow the directions on the tile, there was shit drawn, but if you had backed up it's entirety pointed to out front. So I had to come here... because you're... Slow. Was thinking more like distracted... but yours fits. Shit man. I am so sorry. Boy, I sure felt like an idiot. I am an idiot. Someone trying to lend a helping hand, and quite frankly, not picking up on those clues... I wondered how many more I may have missed. Blame game later, focus! On... His face went from friendly jubilation to straight hatred. I'd only seen that type of dramatic face change caused by one other being on this Earth. I knew what had to happen. We had to stalk, prey upon, and follow... CHAOS! PANDA! ] | | --------------------------- [ CONTINUED... ] We looked at each other in the pitch darkness. His face was covered in grime like he hadn't showered in days. Did I know him? If we were going to stalk Chaos, first, we needed some inside information. Where he would be, who he would be with, when... it was a virtual crapshoot otherwise. But he grabbed my arm just as I started to dial away on the phone to gather the intel... There's more. More..? You mean? I'm afraid so. He decided to show up. I wasn't sure I wanted to know anymore. After all, it's not like Chris Chaos is a lyrical or wrestling genius. He talks about memories, then does what can be only kindly referred to as "revisionist history". Rewriting the parts of the past he didn't like, to make himself sound... tougher? He pretends to know maneuvers he reads about in "O" magazine. What kind of wrestler is he? Was this really a threat... to me... again? What was this condom headed man trying to tell me. I could be wrong. He may know more than he's letting on. If he didn't, then why the subtle careful approach to tell me all this? The feather to now... it seemed like a ten buck approach for five dollar information. After feeling I had been followed and finding out it was a ploy to get my attention to warn me, my head was still spinning. PLUS, my archery would never be the same again. I now had to obsess over if the weight and feather count was right any time I used it. That alone, is enough to drive a man mad. Much less some blonde male bimbo running his mouth for the UMPTEENTH time. How much can one Radical take? Whatever it was... that he had to tell me... is likely vital to my match on Warfare. It could be the key to this whole thing that was about to come out of his mouth. I thought I should listen to the almost recognizable unhooded condom headed lookout. Chaos... said a bunch of cliché's about you being empty... on your last legs; in a promo on XWF television. Then he tried to make rhyme's that didn't work, and the audience was scared or falling asleep... and... well... he mentioned Caedus as misdirection. Trying to say that Jim deserved to beat him, but that you... that you didn't... twice! What's weird is against JIM CAEDUS he said the opposite! It was like a walking conundrum of uncertainty. HE SAID that you are also a Panda but that he poached you, but if he is a Panda too, isn't that a hate crime!? He recycled some stuff he used before, copied what you said, and... ANNDD... WHAT IS IT!? WHAT DID HE DO!? It's... the curtains. Chaos closed them! I don't know where we will get light to see our way through this! It was so tactful, so original... I just- So- Panda? He practically collapsed in my arms. Sobbing, not able to understand the methods of a sickly beast. He smelled like sweat and... sweat. I didn't have all the answers he was searching for. Why someone would be so self-deprecating that they didn't see reality... just to fuck up things by being soft, and white, and black. Where to begin to help him or myself was still unclear. I gave "Daddy's little dog" a big erratic hug; let him rest his head on my shoulder, ya know, until it got weird. I thought to myself that it was strange how weird moments always followed anything Chris said, like in the promo this guy described. And worse, Chaos had admitted to Panda poaching. A crime so intensely vile and self aggrandizing that it is punishable by making us all listen to him in future promos. Sorry about following you, Gabe, I didn't know what to do! It seemed like I had to tell you, but how!? I broke in here... to... to- Shhhhh. Shushy shush shush. He won't get away with it, friend. If there's one thing I know... it's how to beat the snot out of a runny Panda nose. A pat on the back to sooth the wounds of Chaos. He seemed more upset than he should be, inconsolable. Everyone handles grief in their own way, I guess. I was sick and tired of Chaos' shit for the last damn time. It was in this instant made clear; I had to bludgeon this virus with an ice pick. Not even loser bar bathroom tile writing 's like this guy were safe anymore. I had to step up to the plate. End the Chaos. It's okay, pal. I know what to do now. The unsettling man who still hadn't explained getting in to my house to plant the feather lifted his head off of my comforting shoulder. Sniveling in a disgusting but endearing way... if he wasn't so dirty... that is. None of that stuff he said about you is true- why would he even bother? It's slander... for what purpose? Can't he read? Is he really that pathetic? I wanted to say no, I really did... Pretty much. Tears streamed down his cheeks. I threw some tissue his way. Made him a drink, then waited for the police to arrive to take the home invader away. They knocked on the door, finally. He looked up at me as they tightened the handcuffs around his filthy wrists. A slight smile. Almost as if he was glad the ordeal was finally over. I'm counting on you... Gabe. Do what needs to be done! All he had told me starting to sink in. It dawned on me, just then, like a tons of bricks. I chuckled out loud. Of all the things to do, Chaos had forgotten one fatal flaw that stood out among the hundreds in his promo words. One thing that has been his undoing before, and will be again. Walking toward the door escorted by officers, "Daddy's little dog" turned back hearing my glee. What's so funny? Closing curtains, ha... Chaos doesn't know how to close. The cops push the intruder forward as the grin oddly disappears from his face. He looks back like the purpose was lost. Outside they load him in the squad car. I looked on out a window, noticing them take him away, but the 'favor' he did me would echo in my head for the rest of the night. Trying to sleep, tossing and turning. Even a dream of two Panda's running in a meadow, before one turns on the other. Was it a sign? I had to know more. Night surfing. I got online and started looking for other home invasions. I couldn't afford to miss anymore clues. I had to find anything that sounded like a warning. Were there more people like "Daddy's little dog"? Out there, hoping to help- but not sure how- and not willing to break the law like he was. But- Jesus H. SAMUELS! That's not what I found. Instead, I ran across descriptions of horrifying intrusions. Malicious group banging's like only Chaos would do. A horrible sight by any modern measure. Monstrous to behold. Stunning, yet, not surprising. In common they had a large figure with a knife baring down on a wife and child. Easy prey seemed to be the game. Rubbing my eyes, I dropped some Visine; unable to sleep or tear my pupils from the screen. They were red and itchy; just like the rash one home invader gave an old man in North Florida 2 weeks ago. I couldn't escape the feeling. It had been felt so many times before. Raging inside him. Then, it happened... No, PLEASE, GOD, NOOOO! My coffee cup was empty. The symbolism ate me up inside. It made me think- am I on my last legs? Could this be it? Put down by some queer who runs around naked in fur? All the thoughts had made me neglect the most recent search results on the monitor in front of me. I refilled the coffee. Turning to put the pot back down, I noticed something on the screen, then quickly ran back over to it. "Large Panda seen attacking homes, claiming to be warning people. He often has a sharp knife in one hand, with some leaves from outside in the other. One home owner ripped his suit a part trying to force him to leave. He is now wearing a condom like hood, and was last seen at a bar near San Diego. Once he enters a home, victims say that it shouts completely desperate lies and pandemonium to get you to let your guard down. If you have ANY information please call authorities immediately. There could be a unique case of Panda AIDS. He is believed to be armed, and possibly in a clear glass exhibit..." This was wild. "Daddy's little dog" fit this description... but he came here to warn me about Chaos, didn't he? What was all that crap about how bad the promo was... guilt? More fucking sorrowful guilt? An endless amount of shitty Chris Chaos guilt? Thick and putrid. Was that even him? Who knew? I walked around making sure everything was locked. There... in the corner of the room beneath some broken glass where he had entered... leaves... and a knife. That was NOOOO WARNINGGGG, THAT WAS PANDAAAAAAA! HOLY HELL! I WAS ABOUT TO BE MAULED! PANDA AIDS!? You might as well be the Kings errand boy. At least then you would serve a purpose. My patience is wearing thin, Pandy-wandy. Please, tell me about the past again, no you know what, I'd rather put a gun in my mouth. I actually have poseable lips. Unlike you. GOOOOD- how were you ever Champion... what epically legendary Universal Champion did you have to beat... oh, it was Scully, wasn't it? Luck of the draw. A man who, like you, hasn't realized his potential in months. Yet you boast about it like a high school cheerleader. Well, he may take you to the prom, and he may give you some shiny gold, but I will still rip it from your padded paws every fucking time. MINE! YOU pathetic Panda! Not only do you copy your own opponent (I'm sure no one will notice...), but you don't even put the time and effort in to do it right. What is this, the Special Olympics' qualifiers? Are you for real? You fucking . You like playing with curtains... already getting prepared for your next career, I see. The end of the line comes quick once you start nudging down father time's hill, doesn't it, Chris? Walking fallacy of what-if's in a world full of the definite. Confused is one way to say it. Another might be... awful. Terrible, manipulating yourself through the grandeur of yesterday. Fuck you. You were beat from day one and you knew it. Any thoughts of "getting even" or "retribution" left like your talent, six months ago. WHEN I TOOK IT ALL. Like a starving bear from another pack. Roaring and scratching at your eyes, until all you see is what you can remember. Intimidated already, Chris? Don't attack what you are. Worse yet, don't accuse me of being it. We could not be more different. Sure, we both have ego... who in this business doesn't? Once you end that reflective similarity, not much else compares between us... You, are a ghastly gas bag who gets off on the pain of others. I, like looking at SLAM magazine while having tea. You, look like a petrified mineral who can't even correctly wrestle the spelling of rock together(that's it, you're welcome). I, am a philanthropist, focused on the future success of what I WILL be in XWF. You, a delinquent, stinking up the back with tales of what you used to be back... whenever. I, enjoy breathtaking views over the veranda out to the courtyard when visiting my royal mates. You, scoop shit piles out from under carriages and smear them on the walls. I, am exalted any time I win a big match in my career. You, are so irresponsibly clumsy that you can't win those anymore. I, look handsome in a tuxedo. You, wear a hair tuxedo everywhere you roam. I, can be shy until I feel appreciated. You, are ashamed of who you are, which makes you... grumpy. Ew. A grumpy, phased out, passer by Panda. You can't adorably gallop from reality. It will engulf you in your typical petty drunken stupor, every time. You tried to warn me, about you? I'm not a priest, the confessional is over there. Absolution can be asked for, but it will not be given. I know how bad you are. Every morsel of gutlessness. Breaking into homes won't fill the thing you have never been able to get back, success. It's not a secret you have to find, Chris. It's been taken. Again and again. By the Erratic Enigma. XWF used to be big enough for the both of us. Now, you've been replaced. While I was off regaining my senses, you were still here... getting yours bashed in. Caedus is a real challenge, but I'm not? All I'm good for is a little... creativity? Interesting conclusion. Now say it without trembling. The grass in your mouth in starting to fall out into a puddle of slobbery goo. Don't invade people's houses to try to find answers. Don't be a queer to the guys in the back because they admired you before they got to know you. Count your lucky stars until Wednesday. Because I will take them once and for all. Luckily the authorities let you compete... because if they pieced the puzzle together like I have... BOOYYYY, you might just be locked up, in a zoo. Where you belong. With all the other things too stupid to escape. F O L L O W E D II: PANDEMONIUM | [ PANDA III ] Tassels, ay? Those nipples look stretched, must be painful; chaotic ripped flesh. Curtains open and close usually, on cue; when this match starts, the hook will pull on you. Wrecking a bitch has never been so easy, open your ears, and let the Radical remind you of just how sleazy; Chaos is a notion no one tries to be, lost in the shuffle, with buried Panda dreams. Damned is a word that rests on your shoulders, sweet as it is, before the Enigma makes them smolder. Fire in spit, still ahead of your bullshit; wise to the reasons, you still subject us all to this torment. Have you gotten red, or are you still blue; maybe Jenny can help, raise your fortitude. Previews are out for the way this match ends, given early, In case you might quit 'round the next bend. Denned is all the reality you neglect, now get down on your soft knee's, and give Papa Reno heck. ☆ W E D N E S D A Y N I G H T W A R F A R E v. C H R I S C H A O S | # 0 3 | ' R A D I C A L ' R E N O | X W F # 0 5 9 Check out Backstage Page for full list of XWF achievements.