Home is where the heart is... or where you hang your hat. Except for the fact that, I have no heart for this home. Oh and I don't wear hats. Ever. So maybe in regards to myself, I oughta say something like this... home is the shithole where you store your fuckin' boots when you aren't wearing them. Haha! Yep. That right there seems about right. Pretty much sums up my current living situation too. I'm living in a basic, run of the mill, crappy apartment. Though it's not like that's a huge issue. I mean I ain't ever needed much to survive in the first place. Still it's the principle. I'm staying in this place because I had to move. I had to relocate. Why did I have to do that? Cause I'm back in the XWF. Yay! Are you excited? Yeah... right. I'm thrilled about it too.

Since returning to the XWF, I've been asked to do little. Although that was the basic idea of my employment record with them before. It's like Shane yanked me outta the life that I had built for myself, just to fuck with me. Which sounds exactly like something that god damn maniac would do for kicks. He was bored and decided, lets find Griffin and remind him of the employment obligation that he still owes. Nothing good was on television that day or he couldn't find someone to fetch him potatoes for his disturbing fetish. So he turned to the ol' roll a deck. Yeah, I'm willin' to bet he still uses that shit. He did when I left, I'm wagering he still fucking does now. A roll a deck. Like we're stuck in a bad 80's flick. Anyways, I picture that he turned to that ol' roll a deck and said to himself... "Hmmm... who can I fuck with today?" and then, I just happened to be the unfortunate bastard he pulled on out of that piece of crap. Naturally he'd find out that my number was long since changed but that's when the mission starts and it provokes the lunatic to find my ass. Trust me. I've been in close operations with that potato fondling, crackpot in the past and dealt with a magnitude of his shenanigans. As insane as it all sounds. It is very plausible. So now I'm back with the XWF, with my dick in my hand wonderin' what was so important that I had to be dragged back here. And I find myself entering some bullshit called the Second Chance Battle Royal. Fuck it, right? What else do I gotta do in this jive ass company?

Lets see... right about now that means I should have a camera freak watching me. One of them creepy fucks that looms in the shadows and films wrestlers. This isn't something that I have to sit there and wonder about either. Nah. All I gotta do is go on instinct. Pull my Colt 45. Point and shoot. The bullet finds a home in the wall, about two inches next to the camera freak's skull. Which causes the thing to scramble, like some kinda creature fleeing for its life. Disappearing into the shadows where I shit ya not, it vaporizes. Vanishes into thin air. Like it had never been there. Now this act would send any normal, sane man, straight to the psych ward. Obviously the pressures of life have taken over. Insanity has set in. That's it. Time for the loony bin in order to get fitted for a straight jacket. But I ain't a normal, sane man. I also have been in this place before. Employed with the XWF. I am well aware of how they operate. Those camera freaks, they are a trip and a half. It's like something out of Lord Of The Rings. Gollum with a camera. Except now he's multiplied, can travel through the shadows and is obsessed with filming wrestlers. I'm pretty sure the company breeds them for that purpose. Whatever the fuck they are. Cause they can't be human and I wouldn't put farming nightmare creatures, for the purpose of using them as camera handlers past anyone in management with the XWF. I know this place. All too well.

Anyhow, where one once lurked, another isn't too far off. Might as well give the creepers what they're after.

"Sup XWF, Griffin MacAlister here and I'm comin' at ya, live from my apartment. Why the fuck am I doing this? That is a very good question. Well it's cause I went and entered myself in the Second Chance Battle Royal. Second Chance Battle Royal? Second chance for what? It ain't a second chance for anything for me. Not as far as I'm concerned. I'm going into this fight with one thing on my mind. To beat some fuckin' ass. Get my shit kickers shined up, real nice and throw a boot party. That's it. I don't give a crap about these title shots that seem to give everyone and their fuckin' mother a hard on. That's right. I said mother and hard on. Cause everyone knows that Peter Gilmour's mother was born with both parts. That's internal and external. I seen the leaked footage of Gilmour's birth. I know. It was disturbing to say the least. Still get nightmares 'bout that shit. Not sure who sent it to me but I got some ideas about who it might be. The real question is why did I keep watchin' it? I guess it's like that whole concept of seeing a car crash. You just can't look away. Now I've seen some fucked up shit in my day. Done some wicked terrible, awful acts too. And yet that footage, still scarred my ass. Probably for life. So thanx for that 'mystery' person."

"Petes, you chicken parm lovin' son of a... fuck if I know what... transvestite? Do you still call it a tranny if it can give birth? I'm asking ya man. You grew up with it. I'm assuming you know the answer. Or maybe you don't. I don't know. Yo even if you don't have the answer for that question. I gotta say. I can't imagine what your life might've been like living in that house. Fuck man. That had to be intense. This is me assuming stuff but you did grow up to eventually dong worship the devil and you married a man. A man that you insist is a lady. Even though he's very apparently a dude. He's not very discreet about scratching his nuts and he uses the men's room. Then there's the beard. I know I've personally seen this dude shaving. Out in the open. Shaving a thick ass beard. He was in line for a hot dog! Why does your husband do that?!?! It's weird. Waitin' on food and this fucker has his electric shaver out. Casually shaving in public. Too be honest he shoulda been usin' a weed wacker. Cause that was a big ol' beard. ZZ Top would have been put to shame fuckin' big. It was like he was chopping away at a hedge with an electric razor. That's how thick it was! And this is the person that you honestly believe is a woman! C'mon... some fucked up shit had to go down in the ol' Gilmour homestead. I'm not going to traverse down the path of possibilities. Only cause I don't wanna put my brain through the trauma. I've seen you in action though. We have a past. We faced off against each other. Teamed up. So I think I know what I'm talking about. Some horrendous crap had to go down in that place. It's the only thing that explains your mindset."

"Speakin' of our past. I remember sittin' there stoned as a motherfucker, watching you devour tray after tray of chicken parm. Never knowing where they kept materializing from but maybe that's your super power. The XWF has all sorts of magical fucktards roaming the halls. I've strolled down those halls. I seen 'em. Maybe you really are the chicken parm king. Your powers are that you summon chicken parm. Not a very useful or helpful power to have but speakin' as the guy who used to be forced into meetings with you there, it seemed to keep you happy. So kudos to that? I'd say maybe you could save some starving countries but we both know that you aren't going to do that. No ways. That ain't Petes jam. Not when there's parm and bushy beard Maria to be had. "

"Hey but we're facing off in the same match. Y'know I actually managed to catch a promo that you put out there and I have got to say. Maria is looking as manly as ever. Okay, I didn't mean to go that route. Everyone knows that. No need to beat a dead horse into the ground. I have to address something else that I noticed. Petes. Buddy. Who the fuck is that aberration that you keep locked up in your place and what is he there for? I honestly have no memory of this man. I've smoked quite a few blunts between the last time we spoke and now. So maybe he existed and I just locked it outta my memory. It's so fuckin' bizarre! You got this fuckin' mutant lurking about your place. He kinda popped out of nowhere on me too. I was packing a bowl, you see. I'm looking down and doin' my thing. Grab the lighter and I'm 'bout to hit that shit. Y'know cause its been running its mouth. So I gotta hit that shit. Teach it some manners. Then all of a sudden. Mid-bowl hit. There's this god damn gargoyle on my tv screen! I don't scare easily man but that thing came out of nowhere. It was like there's Gilly and suddenly... this freakish monstrosity appears. Practically outta nowhere! I almost dropped the bowl! Yeah. That's right. I almost dropped the damn bowl! So tell me Petes, when did you become pals with the Toxic Avenger? Why are you letting Swamp Thing get it on at your home? More importantly, why are you keeping him there? What's his purpose? Is he your home security? Do you lock the doors from the outside when you leave, so he can't get away? Are there padlocks on the front door so he can't get loose? Or is it just pure Stockholm syndrome that's occurring at this point? Really. I'm curious and I gotta know. What the fuck is up?"

"Movin' on to... fuck it, Pestilence. I'll give you a shout out. Alright Pest, I have to ask. When you were coming up with a clever name to use in order to pursue a career, wrasslin' for this joint, did you simply sound that shit out? I've seen your name in print. Several times actually and it's always spelled wrong. Every transcript, for everything that I watched, concerning you, it's written incorrectly. See, I know your name is Pestilence because Pestalance isn't a thing. So it has to be Pestilence. After one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. That's the only thing that makes sense. Unless you're a goofy bastard who's making nonsense up. Which could be very much the case. There are folks that do that shit all the time. Somehow I don't think that's what's going on here. It seems different."

"Come to think of it, that shit even sounds different. I got a fucked up way of talkin' though, so I ain't going to judge you on pronouncing words. I talk lazy and quick. Whatever. That's not the point. The point is this... did you know that you spelled your own name wrong? I looked up your application. I seen that it was written in crayon and that Pestilence was misspelled. You got a manager too, I assume. I only seen a limited number of promos by you, I don't know if you have a manager or not. All I noted was that your ex-girlfriend beat you and that you've been crying because the XWF is screwing you over. A guy like you needs someone to watch out for him. To make sure you don't do something stupid, like misspell your own name. The company fucks people over, left and right. Don't make it easier for them. Get proactive about the situation. For fucks sake, learn to spell your own name. And stop crying. Holy shit. Stop motherfucking crying. On the real. You need to quit that shit and man up. I'm just sayin' life ain't going to be easy for a dude like you. But you have to try and take control of yourself and what's going on. You can't get all bent out of shape like this. I get that you're upset. That piece of shit, Nathaniel got people all a twitter and filled with glee. Who knows why? I can't explain the reason behind that. I do know that's happened before. I was there to witness it. Shit happens. Pick your big, black ass off the floor and either get over it or move on. It's that simple. Sink or swim motherfucker. There isn't anyone that's going to throw you a life preserver in this place. In the XWF. There's no place for stupidity or tears. Right now, you've managed to fail on both accounts. Everyone can see that too."