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"The Wolf of Afghanistan" Joshua Schuler · (11-11-2017)

It is barely after Saturday Savage went off the air and Beard War Pig has successfully defended XWF’s Television Championship for the first time after claiming his prize after a vicious battle with Neville Sinclair. Only days later to meet Finn Kuhn in the ring for another hard-fought victory in the name of the XWF people and the Motherfuckers. Now he has not only won his third match since his return but he was so dominating and ferocious he injured the new superstar Chris Valerius. Obviously, a little concerned for the newcomer as he would be with any fellow wrestler, good, bad, indifferent, or pure shit. Not that someone with such alpha stature can’t be a little impressed with himself, Pig smirks a little thinking about his dominance displayed. Hell, most wrestlers can barely come back from a mental break down like his, let alone obtain gold his returning match and set the pace for a decent undefeated streak. Some would feel on top of the world if they were in BWP’s shoes, not him though, he knows he has just begun the climb to the top. Every day will bring more time to train, study, and grow as a human and a wrestler. Opportunities around every corner that Bdub plans to not squander away this time around. For instance his chance to make an epic Television Championship run, a motherfucking achievement his momentum is sending him tumbling towards. As well as making his band made up of rough, tough, violent, entertaining, and full-hearted brothers, the Motherfuckers burned into XWF’s history!

Your Television Champion is standing on top of Universal Studios with one the Motherfucker's video surveillance drones hovering at about eye level with Bearded War Pig and far enough back to capture his whole image and the rooftop background. The flaps on his unbuttoned sleeves of his black and green long sleeve flannel, that is rolled to his bicep blow in the slight breeze. His coyote tan cargo pants ripple in the baggier areas from the breeze as well, his right hand placed deep in his hip pocket placing a lighter he just used to light up a Blueberry Headband filled 'Hog's Leg' helping ease the nerves from possibly ending someone's career and of course a little celebration never hurt anyone. Puffing on the Adelle sized marijuana cigarette like Snoop Dogg in 'Half Baked' or a cum slut sucking "Gold" from a firehose. Pig removes the blazing joint after sucking down enough THC to start feeling a little buzz, a slight smile begins to spread before his lips part.

"Holy fuckin shit, it feels fanfuckintastic up here. Kind of how most of you probably feel I am feeling right now, yeah I have a lot of positive shit going for me right now. I'm an active wrestler in the greatest federation, period, making money doing what I love. I hold the XWF Television Championship. So far I am undefeated since my return, three mother fucking victories in like a week. Suck My Motherfuckin, Dick! Sorry even though I hate the knuckle fuck Peter, it just fit, plus I spit a little of my own saliva on that shit like I always do. That isn't all though I am also blessed with being apart of a brotherhood with couple Motherfuckers!"

Pig takes another drag on his Hog's leg before continuing on.

"So yeah it is absolutely understandable that most would believe I am feeling as high up spiritually as I am physically right now. Well, you see that just isn't the case because even though I am climbing fast and steady, my climb has just fuckin begun, and that is fine with me. I just don't want to sit around and lie to you all like I am completely happy with where I am right now. Not that I am upset or disappointed in any way, shape, or form. Far from it, I am right where I need to be right now. Right where I am able to give the most to the people and raise the bar for the XWF talent that is thinking about wanting to start taking steps toward the top. The very same place you all will witness myself standing tall and respectful someday, much like I am on top of the Universal Studios, my Coliseum!"

Bearded War Pig takes a couple steps forward and hops up on a four-foot concrete barrier wall at the edge of the roof to help from people accidentally falling off. His combat boots land flush right next to his freshly polished Television Championship belt. Leaning forward in a jokingly manner as if he is about to fall off the roof Bearded War Pig gets his more gullible fans riled up. BWP then stands fully erect and takes a few more puffs on his Hog's Leg before sticking his tongues out at the drones camera lens while displaying the middle finger jokingly to his people viewing. Pointing his finger down toward the sidewalks and streets below, the XWF fans are exiting the building in roars of excitement for the savagery that occurred tonight in the squared circle. The drone continues to scan the scurrying fans below as Pig's words begin to flow from a couple feet away.

"Every single one of them down there are now filled with adrenaline, dreams, and hope, all because of what occurred at my Coliseum. You heard me right Universal Studios, Saturday night Savage is now Bearded War Pig's very own coliseum. Any and all are welcome, but if you step foot inside my coliseum with an intention to compete you better bust fucking ass. I mean white glove, Friday morning barracks room inspection bust ass! That goes for every single one of you fuckers that get booked for Savage, not just the fucktards who believe they are going to come to my house and take my bitch. That means I am talking to Drezdin, Butch Holliday, Grande Ricardo, Eric Black, and of course the XWF’s shit and cum mixed stain, Basic Bitch Doctor Joshua Reno. Let’s just say you all better believe it to be in your best interest to bring honor and respect to my Coliseum. If not you may just be the next to sustain an injury at my very own hands!”

Just as Pig finishes saying "hands" the drone angles the camera back toward BWP who gives the viewers a little shadow boxing demonstration to emphasize on his words. Inhaling the still lit joint in his mouth with every breath he takes with every punch thrown toward the drone as if he was punching at the viewers. Taking his finale toke on the Hog's Leg he rubs the cherry free from the tip as the embers blow away like a flock of fireflies in the night sky. Placing the roach in his pocket Pig licks his upper lip and his facial expression changes from energetic power to a softer darkness before his next string of words complete almost proper sentences?!

"Not to mock or laugh about what occurred in my match tonight when I injured Chris Valerius, but I am the representation of Savage and if I need to break limbs to get a point across, so be it. This is the fucking big leagues if you can't handle the consequences then don't come barking up my tree because I'm here to impress, dominate, and perform to the best of my abilities for the XWF Universe and I expect everyone else that steps foot in our ring to do the same. I don't give a shit if you are in the main event about to get stomped by yours truly or if you are partaking in a dark match in the dumpster behind the arena for a half-eaten spoiled cock meat sandwich, with the likes of Josh Reno and his dipshit butt buddies! To make sure I am clear I am not saying I am proud or happy I may have put an end to Chris's career, I am just using it as an example. If Chris, his family, or fans are viewing right now, I am sorry for what happened, it is a misfortunate mishap. If you need anything while Chris is out and recovering, I will be honored to do what I can. So everyone knows It was unintentional, I will even offer a rematch for the Championship when he returns. Fuck, he can even pick the stipulation and date. Best of luck to you and your people bro, may you be blessed with a speedy recovery."

Pig then throws up the 'Shaka' hand and arm signal, a gesture of respect to Chris Valerius, his family, friends, and fans.

"Now that we have gotten the apologetic shit out of the way and what not I would like to address XWF management for a little and I have some words regarding my next title defense. First of all, I would like to thank the management, JT, Jeff, "King" Vincent, and of course the new girl Taylor Mayde who has been so kind to not have had me grace her with my trouserconda for a tinkle test. Seriously though thank you all that had to do with the resigning of my contract and the opportunities you've placed on my plate. It really means a hell of a lot, knowing management still has a hard-on for your style even after you walked out almost without any notice. So again thank you for noticing I am the right man for the position you had offered me and I gracefully accepted by beating the dog shit out of our boy Neville Sinclair. With that being said. What the fuck did I do since then to book me against Joshua Reno?

Come the fuck on, are you shitting me?! Who's brilliant idea was it to actually give that bag of cocks a chance at the Television Champ? I know I accepted his challenge but I didn't realize you desk jockeys would let this atrocity to happen. Guess one of you numb skulls thought this would make me happy I suppose. I honestly don't care about wasting my time to cave his fucking skull in, but the people deserve better for crying out loud. XWF fans didn't run to the box office or hop on the internet to purchase tickets to B-W-P's Savage to watch a dingleberry being plucked from a hairy asshole and disposed of. Josh Reno is the bottom of the barrel hell that bitch made closet homo, isn't even man enough to accept his sexuality proudly. Instead, he just projects his queerness on anyone he crosses paths with and in a negative stance. Kind of man that very much so is a candidate for a proper ass whooping. Not arguing that. It's just going to be a little difficult to make the ass whooping not so boring. Most people don't enjoy a lopsided beat down, even when the one on the receiving end is a sorry shit bag with no business in the XWF what so ever. So please management make sure my competition is well just that. Competitive and worthy of having my heavy hands smashing their teeth down their throats! So thanks for the opportunity but how about we remove this chastity belt and let my plump and attention demanding cock and balls loose! Everyone will be satisfied until completion!"

Still standing on the narrow barrier wall Bearded War Pig begins to shadowbox some more, this time around he doesn't just throw a few punches. No this time around BWP has so much testosterone and aggression from getting worked up about being thrown table scraps that a starving mutt wouldn't even enjoy. His first punch combo is followed by I spin and sprinting double leg takedown, mocked of course. Quickly following up with lightning fast elbow smashes toward the wall beneath his feet, stopping just a centimeter from making skin and bone impact on cement. Pig turns his head and winks with a smile that gleams nothing but pure cockiness at his flawless technique that an MMA expert couldn't even handle early in the night. Pig then leaps back to his feet and spins facing the opposite direction on the wall and begins to execute a five-piece kicking combination, video drone right on his tail making it seem every kick was thrown standing still. When in reality all five kicks took almost ten foot of movement. After the fifth and final kick that is a vicious reverse spinning roundhouse, Pig turns to the drone and finishes his shadow boxing routine with a left and right jab, a left uppercut, and then a massive right hook haymaker that his knuckles slightly graze the lens, shaking the video shot as the drone loses stabilization. Chuckling like a hyena, Pig holds his stomach in pain from laughter before bending down and grabbing the Television Championship strap which he raises high above his head before speaking his last words.

"This belt right here is to be defended next Saturday against a man who well honestly will be less of a work out than shadowboxing on a fucking rooftop high as giraffe balls! This is not fake news. Basic Bitch Doctor doesn't deserve to touch any championships XWF has to offer. Hell if we made a belt out of jobbers jock straps and offered it for the suck that is Josh Reno, he wouldn't even be worthy of Jockstrap Jobber Championship. The stupid fucker didn't even rip off the name of someone worthy mocking, he is a shitty version of Gilberg with less wrestling skills... My championship belt deserves more respect and if no one else wants to believe so, maybe I will just have to keep lining them up and dropping them down like the death penalty by firing squad. Precisely what I am going to do with any and all who come to try and claim what is OURS! *BWP shakes the championship belt a little still raised above his head* It won't matter if it is a cock flavored latte sipping basic bitches like Josh Reno or a wrestler with class out the ass, they want OUR Television Championship? Well, they are going to have to fuckin earn it. Something Josh Reno is incapable of accomplishing. My intentions are to hang on to our bitch for a good minute, so fuck all you who want to try and take her away because well it isn't happening. This fuckin Marine has been given a mission and none of you fuckin limp dick hard chargers are going to stop me from achieving my objective, especially no disease and parasitical scrub like Basic Bitch Doctor. Just move aside boy because the big dick train is coming and it isn't stopping for any assholes.

Oink, Oink Motherfuckers!"

Raising both his middle fingers in the air toward the drone before backflipping off the rooftop wall, Pig pulls out his cell phone from his pocket and begins to dial General Mattis' phone number while walking in the opposite direction of the drone toward the center of the rooftop.

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