Wildcards and Fugitives of Sanity, please post your roleplays as replys to this thread. Everybody else, please do not comment in this thread.

RULES
2 RP Match (1 Per Person, 2 Per Team)
No Word Count Limit

RP PERIOD STARTS: August 17th, 2019 (11:59:59 PM Eastern time)
DEADLINE IS: August 31st, 2019 (11:59:59 PM Eastern time)

------Saturday, August 24, 2019------

(It’s been a long time. Years.

Centurion stands outside of a metal door, looking nervous. A single light shines on him, as the rest of the world is engulfed in darkness. Next to the door is just brick – cold, damp brick.

In his hands, an offering of some sort. He has both of his arms out, lowered below his stomach, with a black sheet over it. Whoever he is here to see, he has brought something valuable to them. Centurion takes a deep breath before pushing up against the door and using his knuckles to knock. After a few seconds, a deep voice calls out from behind the door.)

Voice: Password?

(Centurion thinks for a second. He’s trying to remember the exact wording. As if finally comes to him, he looks down. He can’t believe he has to say the words that have been given to him. Words that make him shutter, and that infuriate him, but words that will grant him access. He sighs, before finally speaking.)

Centurion: Maverick is a former CCWF World Champion.

(Immediately, the metal door opens up, revealing former CCWF and XWF superstar Maverick on the other side.)

Maverick: You bet your ass he is!

(Maverick escorts Centurion inside. There, we see a well-furnished finished basement, complete with a full bar, carpet, large standing beer cooler, 80 inch plasma television, and a poker table in the middle of the room. Centurion takes a few steps into the room and quickly admires the layout.)

Centurion: Wow. This place is awesome.

Maverick: Right?! Got it done a few years ago. Did you know some stupid son of a bitch decided to wrestle in the XWF under the name “Maverick” a few years ago? I was collecting royalty checks, and I didn’t even know why. I figured Jon Brown had just lost his mind.

Centurion: You would have been correct in that assessment.

(Centurion turns to Maverick and raises the offering he brought. Maverick gets a huge smile on his face before tossing the sheet off, revealing a crock pot full of buffalo wing dip. Maverick rubs his hands together in an excited manor.)

Maverick: Ah yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. Put it over on the bar.

(Maverick points to the bar, and Centurion obliges, setting the container of steaming goodness down. On the bar, there are already three dishes – a crock pot of barbeque meatballs, a tin containing hot sausage, and a glass container with peach cobbler. As Cent sets his dish down, two figures step out from an adjacent room.)

Voice: The Brand heard the soothing voice of a little Greek man.

(The two figures reveal themselves as former Universal Champion The Brand, and Roller, former member of The Wildcards. The Brand is dressed up as fashionable as he usually is – expensive, silk shirt and a pair of black dress pants. Roller, on the other hand, is wearing a red vest over a blue shirt, a pair of khaki shorts, a pair of dark black sunglasses, and a plastic visor. The two walk over to Centurion, as Centurion embraces both of his old friends individually. Before any more pleasantries can be exchanged, however, Centurion looks Roller up and down.)

Centurion: What in the bingo hall hell are you wearing?

Roller: This is my get up. It’s to PSYCHE you out!

Centurion: It’s not working.

Maverick: Ehem…

(The three men turn to Maverick, who is standing at the poker table, tapping his finger against it. His eyebrows are raised as he looks at the three men. After a second, all three walk over to the table, reaching into their pocket. They all pull out a stack of bills and toss them onto the table.)

Maverick: I was wondering if you cheap bastards were planning on paying for this evening or not.

Centurion: Settle down, we’re not all here yet. Besides, I wanted to eat something. I’m starving. The drive from New Jersey was a bitch.

Brand: Try some of The Brand’s peach cobbler. Best in the world.

Maverick: Do you know that for sure? How many other peach cobblers have you eaten.

Brand: Why do you have to be like this?

(Centurion walks over to the bar and grabs a plate as the two continue to bicker back and forth. He grabs a hot sausage sandwich, and tosses some meatballs and wing dip on the plate. Brand and Maverick continue to go back and forth as Maverick walks over to the beer cooler.)

Maverick: Also, can you stop talking to yourself in the third person? It’s been 18 years. We know who you are.

Brand: The Brand has an image to maintain. The reunion show is coming up next week. The Brand needs to make sure he’s in character.

Maverick: The Brand is going to get a swift kick in the ass pretty soon.

(Maverick walks back over to Centurion with two beers in his hands. He hands one – a LaBatt Blue – over to him. The other he keeps for himself – a Straub Beer. Centurion arches his eyebrows down at the sight of the different looking beer.)

Centurion: What the hell is that?

Maverick: Oh, this is a Straub. I discovered it during a camping trip in Northern Pennsylvania. It doesn’t have preservatives and shit in it, so I can drink as much as I want and still hang on to this boyish figure.

(Centurion lets out a slight laugh as he takes a sip of his beer. The other guys in the room also grab plates of food before walking over to the poker table. Centurion, Brand, and Roller all sit as Maverick continues his hosting duties. Centurion glances over at the TV, which is playing the first game of the college football season – Miami University Vs Florida University.)

Centurion: You got anything on the game?

Maverick: Nah. I have Hawaii plus 17 in the second game, though. I usually don’t like betting this early in the season – no one knows shit, and they’re just pulling lines out of their ass, but I figured, ‘Bows at home…why not?

(Maverick walks back in with a basket of tortilla chips and a plate of cheese and pepperoni. He sets them down on the table before walking away again.)

Roller: I hear you’re still going strong in the ring. What’s that all about?

Centurion: It’s something I’m good at. I had to wait for you fuckers to retire before I could finally get in my groove.

Roller: If you want, I could come back and knock you back down the card.

Centurion: Would your wife let you?

(Roller just puts his head down.)

Roller: Fuck you.

Centurion: Speaking of – yo Mav, where’s the wife and kids?

Maverick: National Harbor. There’s some sort of movie night going on out there. It’s the kids last weekend before school starts back up, so Steph decided to do something nice for them. Besides, she said she didn’t want to hear Brand bitching about his lost money.

Brand: Hey!

Centurion: It’s true, Primo. You’re a shitty loser.

Brand: The Brand is not used to losing, ok? It didn’t happen often. And you’re making a lot of assumptions if you think you’re not going to lose tonight.

(Maverick walks back into the room with a wooden box in his hand.)

Maverick: Me? Ha! You wish. And Cent can’t lose. I heard he lost all his money. Poor guy probably sold his car just for the buy in.

Centurion: Hey, fuck you! I went through some very serious shit.

Maverick: Yeah, yeah, I know. Your brain broke and suddenly you lost a billion dollars. One of those things that can only happen to you, apparently.

(Maverick walks over to the table with the box in hand. He opens the box, revealing several high quality cigars. Roller is the first one with his hand in, grabbing the darkest, biggest looking stogie in the box. Brand and Centurion follow suit, both grabbing their cigar of choice. Maverick grabs one and sets it down on the table before walking the box back out of the room. The three remaining guys continue to eat their food and sip on their beers while glancing over at the TV and continuing the catch up.)

Brand: You seeing anyone yet, Cent?

Centurion: Nah. I think I’m done with the whole dating thing. I think I’ve had my heart destroyed one too many times.

Brand: You said that about retirement, too. You can’t give up now. What you need to do is stop trying to get these twenty-something ditzy chicks. You need to find yourself a MILF. A real woman, you know? Someone more your speed.

Centurion: It’s just a lot of work. Besides, everyone is doing these app dating things now, you know? Tumblr or whatever the fuck it’s called? Apparently you have to match with someone in your area based on looks, and they swipe, and you go on a date or send dick pics…I don’t know, it seems like a bit much. And I don’t have time to go to bars and pick up chicks like I used to. If something happens, it happens…but I’m not looking for it.

Roller: Gay.

Centurion: You wish. For the last time, Roller, I don’t want to put my dick in your mouth.

Maverick: (yelling from the other room) Is Roller looking to get a dick in his mouth again?

Brand: We just got here, Rollz. Stop trying to get our dick in your mouth.

Roller: Fuck. Every. Single. One of you.

(Maverick laughs as he walks back into the room. As he does, a knock is heard on the door. Maverick raises an eyebrow before yelling out.)

Maverick: Password?

(The returning voice is a very recognizable, very distinguishable Australian voice.)

Voice: Maverick is a former CCWF World Champion.

(Maverick runs over and opens the door, and in walks XWF Legend Steve Jason. He has a pot of some kind of dish in his hands as he enters the room.)

Centurion: Stinger! We’re waiting on you.

SJ: Sorry about that. I took the metro in from DC.

Maverick: …why would you do that?

SJ: I didn’t know how far your house was from the metro station. I was visiting some folks in the area. Don’t live in a weird city, how about that?

(SJ glances over at Brand, and for the first time since their XX match was announced, they lock eyes. The two haven’t spoken to each other or about each other since match was announced, so this could be a very tense situation. Who knows what kind of harsh words these two may have for each other.)

SJ: Hey Brand.

Brand: Sup?

(Or not.

SJ sets his pot down on the bar as Maverick walks over to the beer cooler. SJ reaches into his pocket and tosses down his money as Mav walks back with a bottle of Gallantry. He hands it over to SJ before picking up the pack of money SJ tossed down on the table.)

Maverick: What the hell is this?

SJ: Five hundred dollars.

Maverick: Buy in is a thousand, bro.

SJ: Since when?

Maverick: Since inflation. Since the Trump Administration. I know you’ve got it.

(SJ stares annoyed at Maverick before shaking his head and pulling out his wallet. He tosses down another $500, and Maverick picks up all the money on the table, setting it aside.)

Maverick: Settle in, boys. The game is Texas Hold ‘Em. Winner take all.

------A High Roller, Even When The Chips Are Down------

Sometimes, life finds a way.

It certainly wasn’t our intention to put Juggalo on the shelf, but we also knew that there was a possibility that the Bloodhounds would jump us before the interview. That’s just what they do. They have been and always will be bastards. So we broke Juggalo’s sternum. If you’re not ready to handle the potential consequences of your actions, maybe you shouldn’t have attempted a comeback at all.

Yet, now that Juggalo is gone, the heavens have opened up and bestowed upon me a gift – a gift so sweet that I have waited 18 years to unwrap it. I get the gift of finally standing face to face with Shane , and punching that mother fucker out.

Shane was my first boss. The very first federation I was ever signed to was the CCWF. ALLLL the way back in 2001, I was just a long haired naive child trying to find a career that I could fit into. Not a lot of places were hiring people off the street, but the CCWF was home to all kinds of vagrants and rejects, so they had no problem scooping me up and tossing me into the fire. For that, I should be thankful, right? I should be in debt to Shane for starting my career and sending me down a path that would take me to where I am now, right?

Wrong. Those who weren’t there wouldn’t understand. I heard from several of the wrestlers who were in the XWF during Shane ’s reign, and they try to shock me with some of the stories. Trust me when I say this – 18 years ago, he was much, much worse. If you were a top guy in the CCWF, you were treated well. You got paid every week, you were put in the big matches, and you were promoted like a superstar. When I say “top guy”, too, I don’t necessarily mean “have the most in ring skills”. All you really have to be is a friend of Shane , or someone Shane thinks he can make money off of.

If you were on the low rung on the roster, though, you could go weeks without matches. You wouldn’t get paid, and when you did, you’d get rubber checks that bounced so high they’d go through your ceiling. Certain people were brought in specifically to be fed to Shane ’s creepy, murderous friends. Amon Amarth Ra, GD, Judas Iscariot – these names may not mean a lot to the new school fans, but for those who remember, these were folks who basically got away with murder on live television. They were allowed to do and say whatever they wanted because Shane was in the middle of his goth cult phase and these guys were like heroes to him. I still don’t know what “GD” stands for and I still don’t think he was any damn good, but we’ll never know since he’s probably rotting in a heroin den somewhere in the South Pacific.

When the CCWF invaded the XWF, and was subsequently squashed by the incumbent company, that should have been it for Shane . He should have been gone from the wrestling business forever. Somehow, though, he kept coming back. First as a manager, then as a GM, and somehow he weaseled his way into becoming the owner of the very company he attempted to destroy over a decade prior.

I would have assumed that age and maturity would have turned around when he took over the XWF, but after watching old tapes and hearing stories, it’s clear that’s not the case at all. In fact, he went from being a creepy goth to just being plain weird, and started booking disgusting matches and pushing the worst talent.

I will say this without hyperbole – Shane almost destroyed the XWF. Rather fitting, considering that was his goal back in 2001, but this time, I doubt it was his intention. The way he ran things, the people he based his company around, and the television product he was producing on a weekly basis almost brought a 20 year company to its knees. If it weren’t for the efforts of “resistance fighters” – those working behind the scenes to undermine ’s authority and steer the ship in the right direction – we wouldn’t be having this anniversary show; or, we would be having it, but it would be as a sad reminder of a federation gone by.

History lesson – when got his hands on the XWF, he wanted to create a “hard reset”. All the veteran wrestlers would have to go away. He wanted to build new stars, and he didn’t think he could do that if a bunch of aging legends were there to knock these kids back down. Fair enough. The WGWF was in full swing at that point, and most of the veterans who were still actively working were over there. permabanned all the old guys, and was ready to lead the XWF into a new era.

That lasted…two months. Suddenly, he started getting inquiries from wrestlers who weren’t allowed in the WGWF. At first, he tossed those resumes in the trash, but one name stuck out to him – a name he was always fond of, despite being a stain on the wrestling business. So, after not allowing any veterans in the XWF, Shane decides to hire…

…Cyren.

See, Shane always had a soft spot for Cyren. Maybe it was because he reminded him a lot of young, goth cult . Maybe it was because Cyren took ’s Black Circle, and formed it into The Black Order, a group that was feared until it ran up against opponents they couldn’t top. Or maybe it was because Cyren was so much like the GD’s and Judas Iscariot’s from the CCWF days, and he always lamented the end of his former company. Who knows? Either way, broke his “no old folks” rule by bringing in Cyren. That went about as well as you can expect.

Slowly over time, however, began bringing in other former talent. Peter Gilmour, Barney Green, Michael Graves – more and more names from the past began to join, and eventually, dropped his stance and allowed whoever wanted to come back to rejoin…with a few exceptions.

See, I was still banned by . In fact, I wouldn’t be here right now, in the midst of my huge comeback had not left the XWF and handed the reigns over to Vinnie Lane. He never wanted me to comeback. Even as James Raven was allowed back and winning titles once again, I was still banned from the company I called home for years. Why?

Because I am “boring”. I don’t fit ’s vision. sees money in pushing the envelope and being as controversial as possible. Me, one of the least controversial wrestlers of the last 20 years? There just wouldn’t be a place in Shane ’s XWF for someone like me.

Not that I would have wanted to come back then anyway. All the wrestling matches were just ways to challenge the FCC to shut this place down, and all the promos from the top guys were just a contest in how many gay slurs can be shouted in a 15 minute period. That’s not my kind of wrestling. I still have scars left over from when I was in the CCWF and I was put in Exploding Barbed Wire Glass Tables matches. I didn’t need to start adding more scars on a 40 year old body just to feed the ego of a psychopath.

But when I heard Shane would be one of my opponents…I couldn’t just let this be any old wrestling match. No, that would be too easy. I wanted to humiliate at his own game. I went old school – as old school as you can go – and made it a Raw Brutality Match, one of ’s own creations from 18 years ago. I could have made it a “Blood And Shit” match, but that would seem redundant – there will be blood, buckets of it, and there likely will be shit, when I beat it out of him.

I’m going to physically destroy Shane , and it isn’t just for all the horrible things he has done to me. I’m going to do it for all the wrong he has caused the wrestling industry. I’m going to do it for creating The Black Circle and unleashing anarchy upon multiple federations. I’m going to do it for keeping Cyren and fucking Chad relevant long past the time when they should have been taken out back and shot. I’m going to do it for the careers of young wrestlers that were cut way too short because they were tossed into some ridiculous stipulation match that caused an injury they couldn’t recover from. I’m going to do it for the people who got stabbed, crucified, set on fire, and maimed in the CCWF for the sole purpose of drawing money. Most importantly, I’m going to do it so Shane never has to show his face in this industry ever again. I plan on beating him so badly that he regrets ever deciding to do this match. He’s going to hurt so bad he will start reliving childhood trauma. All of it will be legal, and all of it will be something he would have done years ago, but can’t physically do anymore. The sins of Shane are finally going to be cleansed, and it will be done by the only person who could possibly do it – me.

Oh, and Kid Money is also in this match. I’m sorry, but it’s hard to really think about him when the prospect of stomping Shane ’s teeth down his throat is in front of me, but I guess I do have to focus on the fact that I’ll be facing more than one opponent in this match. Luckily, I’ll have Maverick backing me up, and while he hasn’t wrestled in a very long time, he’s still a bad mother fucker, and I know he’ll have no problem going toe to toe with either of these fools.

XX is going to be Kid Money’s big night. He’s being inducted into the Hall of Legends! Yay, congratulations! I’m actually really happy about that. The people who used to be so enraged that I was in the Hall will turn their attention over to Money, because he was way worse and has accomplished way less than I ever did. Silence from the “smart marks” is what I live for.

I have been in the ring numerous times against Kid Money, and I came out on top most of the time. Let’s face it – once you get past the initial intimidation and the brawling, there isn’t much there. Kid Money isn’t going to wow you with high flying moves. He isn’t some proficient technical wrestler. He just likes to kick people and hit them with stuff. That’s fine when you’re facing baby faced teens who don’t want to ruin their make-up, but when you’re going against wrestlers who are tough as leather, that kind of stuff doesn’t really work.

Oh, by the way, I just realized I’ve been calling him Kid Money. I guess I should refer to him as “K-Money” – that’s what he wrestlers as now, right? I guess that makes sense – at this point, he would be “Middle-Aged Money”. I can’t help but point out that he started going by “K-Money” right around the time T-Money joined the XWF. I’m sure that was a coincidence and not the product of him trying to latch on to the success of someone much more talented than he is. For as much as people talk shit about me and joining different factions, it’s something Money did aa lot. He would never be on his own – he couldn’t hack it.

I’m going to be honest, I didn’t know Money and were a team. I knew they were friends. That was obvious by the fact that Money always had a job anywhere would pop up. But the “Fugitives of Sanity”? That’s news to me. Was this a pairing that existed when I was in the middle of my breakdown? Or is this an old team that barely registered on the radar, which is why I don’t remember them? I’m sure I’ll be told later how K-Money and Shane formed a “legendary tag team” that didn’t get the recognition they deserved.

You know who doesn’t get the recognition they deserve? The Wildcards. The original bad ass stable in the XWF. They were The Prophecy back when James Raven was in middle school. We were the group that anchored the XWF and made sure egomaniacs like Shane and his acolytes like K-Money wouldn’t be able to run rough shot over the federation. Over time, the group has become another one of those campfire stories within the XWF – something that is mentioned, but only as legend. Well, the legend is real, and The Wildcards are back. We were formed out of the dust and ashes of Shane ’s failed invasion, and now we’re here, to put the final nail in the coffin, and finish what we started.

"Ante up!”

The boys are back on their shit. It had been over five years since The Wildcards sat down for a game of poker, and I’m starting to see why. They’re bad. Just the worst. But I’ve known that forever.

I’m in first place, as to be expected, doubling up on my starting chip stack. Steve Jason is not far behind me. He has been playing a conservative game so far, which is different than his original style. Perhaps he’s learned a few things over the years.

Centurion is in third place, sitting right about where he started. He started off bad, and it looked like he was going to be the first one out, but he has rebounded in the last few hands. To be fair, he has been given some help from the players below him.

The Brand is in fourth, slightly behind where he started, but you would think he’s lost it all given how annoyingly pissy he’s been all day. Every hand he loses, we have to hear some kind of story about what “The Brand” was thinking. I don’t know what’s more annoying – the amount of times he has interrupted our playing to complain about his hands, or the amount of times he has referred to himself in the third person.

Finally, in last, it’s Roller. The more things change, the more they stay the same. He still has a terrible poker face, and he bets on almost every hand. If I didn’t know him, I would think he was losing on purpose, but no…he’s just terrible.

Centurion has been eating sausage like he’s been starving for months. I have no idea how he’s survived on his own this long. When he was a rich bastard, everyone cooked for him. I wonder if he’s worked out how to use Uber Eats yet. Then again, once he figures that out, he may gain about 500 pounds.

“Give The Brand something to work with here” Brand says as SJ begins dealing the cards. Cent is small blind, and Brand is big blind. Sitting between Brand and Roller all night has been a blessing for me – Brand usually gives away early how bad his cards are, and Roller bets on almost everything.

I receive my first two cards – Jack of Spades and 9 of Diamonds. Not bad, but nothing to bet on. I am first, and I call the blind. Roller, unsurprisingly, calls as well, while SJ tosses his hand. A lot of folds for Steve when he isn’t pot committed. Centurion, next to go and sitting on the small blind, of course has to think about it.

“Hmm…” Centurion hums as he looks at his cards for a second and a third time.

“They’re not going to change!” I bark back. “Toss in your couple of chips and be done with it.”

“Don’t rush the process! Only a fool bets without thinking.”

Everyone at the table looks over at Roller, who just smiles. Centurion, of course, tosses in his chips, as Brand taps the table to signal a check. SJ picks up the deck of cards and tosses three down.

2 of Spades, 5 of Diamonds, Queen of Diamonds. I have a shot at both a straight and a flush, but I would need to get lucky for either. Still, with two lower cards on the table, I’m staying in, unless one of these weirdos bet something crazy. Centurion is first, and of course, he’s thinking.

"Just do something! We’re going to be late for our match at this rate!”

Centurion glares at me before tapping the table. Brand takes another peak at his cards before also tapping the table. I do the same, leaving Roller to be…well, Roller.

“Alright, you cheap fuckers” Roller says before reaching over to his chips. “let’s get the ball rolling here.”

Roller tosses in about 25. Cent and Brand immediately toss their cards, leaving me. I’m not going to let Roller take this hand, especially considering he’s bluffing out his ass. I call.

“Yo Cent, I just read your schedule for the next few weeks” Brand says to Cent. “Are you sure your body is going to be able to handle all that?”

“Of course. I’m the very definition of peak performance, Primo. I’m not like Mav, who’s been drinking beer and smoking cigars for 15 years. This is what I live for.”

“You wish you looked this good.”

Centurion’s jealousy of me has been a strain on our friendship for the past 18 years. I get it, I’m a sex god that he wishes he could be, but not everyone can be born with these kinds of genetics.

SJ tosses the 4th card in the table – a Jack of Diamonds. Now I have a large pair, as well as a flush draw. I glance over at Roller before going for my chips.

“Make it 50.”

Roller exhales as he looks at his cards again. He taps the table with his fingers a few times and looks around the room. He finally calls, like the fool he is.

Final card. 2 of Hearts. My heart leaps a bit, initially thinking it was a diamond, but it is not. So I sit with a pair of Jacks. Roller could have a flush. He could have three two’s. My guess is, though, he doesn’t have anything good. I check.

“Twenty-five!”

I just shake my head. Roller’s bet of 25 has been a recurring theme all night. I call, and show my cards. Roller shows his…2 of clubs, and 6 of Hearts. He has three of a kind. Lucky bastard. He had no right being in this hand before the flop, but his “bet everything” style paid off this time.

“Well well, Rollz is back in it” Centurion cackles. I can tell the table is ecstatic by this news. Not only is Roller still in the game, meaning they have more opportunity to take his chips, but he did so by beating me, and knocking me off my high horse.

"You had no right to be in that fucking hand! Calling on a pair of twos? What the hell is the matter with you?"[/color]

"Hey, I don't have to catch a flight to Toronto in a week" Roller says smugly as he rakes in his chips. "I should be asking 'what's the matter with you?' All of you old bastards decided to jump back into the ring."

Cent stands from the table and goes to head to the beer cooler. I shake my empty bottle of Straub at him, and he nods back at me.

"Fuck if I know. I think all those chair shots have knocked us all a little crazy."

"Cent has the worst of it" Brand chimes in. "He has a match the night before, and three days after. Poor bastard is going to turn to dust when it's all over."

Centurion comes back with my Straub and another bottle of Labatt for himself as he takes his seat.

"I want to go out like a real warrior, Primo." Cent responds. "Fight until I can fight no more. The rest of you have shit to live for - families, businesses, non-profits. I don't have anything left. So why not keep fighting?"

"I give Cent a lot of shit, but you should see him out there. I caught some of his recent matches - he's like a kid again! You're what, 40?"

"42."

"Fuck me..."

Everyone at the table groans as they come to the realization that the youngest member of the group is almost in his mid-40's. I remember the first time Cent joined The Wildcards. He was just a young kid with a ton of promise looking to make a name for himself. Now he's almost eligible for the AARP.

"I know I look young" Cent says with a smile. "But that's just because I still have my hair."

The rest of us, who are either bald or headed in that direction, flip Cent off. We can't get too mad at the guy. It's the one time he gets to be the young one. When he gets back to his full time schedule, he'll he the old fart again.

"Despite you being an asshole, I'm really happy you're doing well. Partially because it's good to see someone carry on the legacy, and partially because you're the only one on our match who has actually wrestled sometime in the past couple of years. I figured I'd just let you do the work and I'd kick my feet up. You know, a change of pace from the old days."

"Yeah, yeah. Ante up."

Centurion grabs the cards and begins to shuffle as the camera fades to black.



Apparently I'm in the middle of some blood feud? That's news to me.

I'm just here to kick some ass. That's all. I don't care if I'm facing Shane , or Juggalo, or K Money, or T Money, or L Money...I just want to opportunity to punch a mother fucker in the face. Cent was talking about the bad things Shane has done - something about blood and shit? I don't know, I haven't watched wrestling in years. I always assumed Shane was dead. I was made a superstar in the CCWF before I retired, so I can't be too mad at the guy.

That's not to say he's a genius. Far from it. I'd actually argue that Shane is a real fucking idiot. Why? Well, he had one of the best wrestling promotions in the world. He had created superstars. He had Jon Brown and the XWF backed into a corner, as a lot of their stars jumped ship to our promotion. had the whole world in his hands. And what does he do? He sells to federation to Cooper.

Fucking Cooper! The man with a ego so big he makes look like a modest nun. The dude changed to make to Cooper Championship Wrestling Federation, tries to invade the XWF, gets his ass kicked, and the fed shuts down. tried to revive it, but it was already too late. Anyone with any sort of talent already made the jump to the XWF. The toothpaste wasn't going to be put back in the tube.

What has he been doing since? Fuck if I know. Apparently he owned this place at one point. Surprised he didn't run that into the ground, too. My guess is that the XWF had built up enough clout among wrestling fans that even Shane and his terrible decision making couldn't bring it down. That's not a credit to him - that's a credit to the name. If would have changed the name of this place to the Xtreme Wrestling or whatever, it would have been shut down in months.

Why is he in this match? He's not a wrestler. He's always had someone else do his fighting for him. Maybe it was a bad idea for Cent to ask for a Raw Brutality match. I have a feeling we're going to be jumped by The Black Circle, and The Order, and whoever else holds 's balls. If there's one thing is good at, it's assembling an army of useless fucks to do his bidding.

Speaking of useless fucks, hey K Money! How you doing? Good to see you're a lacky in tow once again. This one at least makes sense - Shane always believed in you. I mean, he was the ONLY one to believe in you, but we all need a cheerleader. I see that you're being inducted into the Hall of Legends. My first instinct is to say "for what?", but I see plenty of names in that Hall who don't deserve to be there, so it's not like it really means anything anyway.

It is amazing how some of the relics from the past have their accomplishments talked up, as if they actually did shit. What do people really know about K Money, other than he's one of the old dudes? Probably not a lot, but because he's been around for a long time, people think he's better than he is.

I don't know, I think he's shit. Maybe he's gotten better in the last 15 years? I would hope so. Still, I remember when everyone was talking about how good he was, back in what was supposed to be his "prime", and he was shit then. He made friends with a lot of the right people. Centurion accomplished more than he ever did, but people love K Money because he's a "thug" and they hate Centurion because he's "boring". True, Cent IS boring as shit, but at least he isn't some gangsta wannabe who thinks he's still in the middle of the East Coast/West Coast rap wars. It's 2019. People listen to Khalid now. If you want to be a cool gangsta, you better get a hell of a lot more moodier.

I don't need this match. I don't "need a win" or anything like that. Whether I win or lose, I'll be going home, kicking back with a cold beer, and enjoying the life I built for myself. The only positives I get out of this is the fact that I get to show everyone what the REAL Maverick looks like, not some fake imitation, and I get to punch some old foes in the face. It's been a while, and my punching hand has been getting a little itchy.

Cent, though, he needs this match. That dude is a mess. He's bipolar, he's a tad bit insane, and he's trying to rebuild the life he pissed away. A loss would be devestating to him, and while it may seem like I don't care about that kind of stuff, he's still a Wildcard. We watch out for one another. He helped my win the CCWF World Title, so I can be kind enough to return to favor and help him beat two old folks, one of which is just some weird asshole who doesn't even wrestle. I mean, you would THINK he could handle this on his own, but I'm more than willing to offer my assistance. I'm a good guy, after all.

By the way, I know is actually recruiting people to try and take either of us out before the match. Accept his offer at your own risk. I don't give a shit what happens to this company when I leave, so I'm more than willing to put a mother fucker on the shelf permanently. I don't even know who the current champions are. Frankly, I don't care. But if one of them wants to try and interfere, there will be a vacancy in the title lineage going forward. Are you an old legend from the Shane era looking to pay him back for all the good he's done for you? Well, get involved in my business, and the XWF will be having a memorial show for you this year. I'm not fucking around here. Shane may be outwardly crazy, but I've done some shit in my life, and I know enough people to get away with it.

There is only one true stable in the XWF, and that is The Wildcards. We were the first to achieve greatness, and any others after us will just be a cheap imitation of us. The Prophecy? You should be happy I showed Centurion the template to create you in the first place. The Bloodhounds? Don't make me laugh. Just a bunch of fools who got lost on their way to the Gathering Of The Juggalos and decided to wrestle. There were a ton of factions in the XWF, but you can barely name any of them, because they didn't leave a mark. The Wildcards left a mark. They will be remembered until this place finally closes down. That is what pisses of Shane the most. Despite his attempts to turn professional wrestling into a mud pit of rednecks and goths, only The Wildcards have remained relevant in the record bucks.

Fuck The Black Circle. Seriously, any iteration of it. The Black Circle sucked in 2001 and it probably still sucked in 2015. I've been told some influential people of that era were Black Circle members. Sebastian Duke? Like I know who the fuck that is. Sounds like another one of 's ball washers. The Wildcards destroyed The Black Circle in the CCWF. We destroyed The Black Order in th XWF. And we will destroy what's left of it now, because I don't like leaving loose ends.

This era of wrestling needs to die. Relics like me need to go away. It was never my intention to step back in the ring, but for a chance to show off The Wildcards one last time? That's an offer I couldn't pass up. I'm not Centurion, though. I don't have the deep desire of competition roaring through my veins. This is a one time event, so don't get used to seeing me in the ring. Don't think, though, that I'm going to be some broken has been who can't defend himself. I can still fight, and I'll have no problem fighting an overrated, over the hill wrestler like K Money, or a psychopathic, unathletic freak like Shane . I just hope the local hospital has two beds available. and Money both saw what Cent and I did to Juggalo. We took that mother fucker out. He'll likely never wrestle again. I'm hoping to do the world a favor and continue that trend with two more.

See you Sunday. Make sure to go to xwf99.com to purchase your Wildcard gear before the show - it won't be on sale long, and it will be sold out before you know it. Get some beer, invite your friends over, order some pizza, and purchase XX, because you're in for a special presentation.





Oh, and fuck The Black Circle!

Scene: "Repetitions"         Featuring: Shane         Narration by: Redd Pepper, better known as the "epic voice over guy" – Pricey but worth it. Don't even pretend to not know his deep, foreboding voice.

Around him the cool air was fended off by an aggressive layer of heat emanating from within, encasing him from head to toe like a force field. Beads of salty secretion danced perilously over Shane 's brow, threatening to glide down and wash out these eyes that had bore witness to a history of the most heinous crimes to ever take place against the wrestling industry. "It was only a warm up." With one final push, and teeth gritted tightly, the trembling of his body cooperates like a perfect tag team partner to mother Earth's gravity... for the perspiration has now been granted access into these eyes that had seen legends rise and legends fall. "All those years, only a dress rehearsal." The reverberant clang of the Hammer Strength® Plate-Loaded Incline Press raped the silence around him as Shane allowed the weight to crash down into place. The burning, pounding sensation in his self-proclaimed "chesticles" was well worth the pain, sweat and exhaustion endured by the rest of his body during these workout sessions. "Legendary. They have no idea what's to come – what they've been lured into, using what should have been the most predictably obvious bait to anyone with open eyes." But his eyes were not open during those last few words... Why should theirs have been? At least he had a reason for his momentarily blurred vision and burning eyes as he finishes patting away the moisture from his unnaturally photogenic face. Where was their towel, though? Where was their pathway to restoration of clarity? That answer had been proven nonexistent the moment Shane 's name appeared – fashionably late of course – right on the card they had ALL already committed their wandering souls to in his feigned absence. They were "home" again, right where they belonged, swallowed by the shadow of an onlooking sociopath who would continue to profit and feed off of their dutiful performances even after all those years they spent running away from straight into his loving, fatherly embrace. With the number of legends he would soon hold and allow the resting of their worn faces against him, it was no wonder he wanted to add so much padding to his chest. "It's important they all feel comfortable... welcomed, even... during these historic times. Their final ticks of the clock." The chilled hollowness of this gym Shane had all to himself was reflective of the vision he held for the future of the XWF's corridors and halls. Nobody left... only memories of those who foolishly thought their careers equal to their own egos' baseless declarations... their bones ground into dust and smoothened into a pristine floor to support the feet of their manipulator and disassembler. Perhaps out of all those names to be erased from history, Shane would allow but two men who unwittingly acted as the lock and key, to have their likenesses permanently etched into his walls. Centurion and Maverick may indeed live on, forever frozen in time as conversation pieces for a future league of admirers. The Distant Future of the X-treme Wrestling Federation Said: "And here we have the two men who made this all possible," he'll one day say with the sincerest of smiles adorning what will likely be his sixth or seventh new face. "My two greatest creations of all, and most loyal of warriors. These 'Wildcards' of mine were exactly as advertised since day one." Far ahead in the distance of his gaze lies a world yet untouched. He hadn't blinked in some time now, envisioning and absorbing what is already set. Thank you, Wildcards... for remaining tucked away in my sleeve for nearly two decades. I owe you my life. It was a life which could only be welcomed by the most deranged of men.........

*********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************


*********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Hi everybody!!!


It's me!


Shane circa 2012!


Everybody's FAVORITE Shane !

**Wild, insane, psychotically uncontrollable cheers ensue**

Listen up everyone! I took a few moments away from smoking asparagus **wild cheers** and shoving potatoes in my ass **HUGE pop** to ask you all a very important question!

We all saw the announcement of the XX main event featuring the long awaited dream match of THE BRAND versus STEVE JASON.......

**HOLY SHIT THE CHEERS EXPLODE AND BUST YOUR COMPUTER (OR PHONE) SCREEN STRAIGHT INTO YOUR FACE YET SOMEHOW YOU'RE STILL SEEING THE INTERMISSION**

Yes! YES! We all lost our shit when we heard that announcement!

But... can anybody tell me how to effectively KILL the hype for what easily could have been the most anticipated match up in XWF history? Better yet! How can you kill that hype in a matter of seconds?






Well?







Anyone?







I'll give you a clue!







Just watch a Wildcards promo! Wheeeeeeee! Take a look!

(08-25-2019, 04:57 AM)Wildcards' exciting card game promo Said: (Steve Jason glances over at Brand, and for the first time since their XX match was announced, they lock eyes. The two haven’t spoken to each other or about each other since match was announced, so this could be a very tense situation. Who knows what kind of harsh words these two may have for each other.)

SJ: Hey Brand.

Brand: Sup?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAND, HYPE DEAD AS FUCK! Good job, idiots! Even I couldn't have snuffed it out THAT fast! HAHAHAHAHAHA!

**Booing so hard your speakers take a shit**

**Chants of "Wildcards SUCK! Fuck you Wildcards... Wildcards SUCK! Fuck you Wildcards... Wildcards SUCK! Fuck you Wildcards... Wildcards SUCK! Fuck you Wildcards... Wildcards SUCK! Fuck you Wildcards..."**

…







…

**STILL more chants of "Wildcards SUCK! Fuck you Wildcards... Wildcards SUCK! Fuck you Wildcards... Wildcards SUCK! Fuck you Wildcards... Wildcards SUCK! Fuck you Wildcards... Wildcards SUCK! Fuck you Wildcards..."**

…









They're not done yet!
     
    WHEEEEEEE!!!!!

**EVEN LOUDER chants of "Wildcards SUCK! Fuck you Wildcards... Wildcards SUCK! Fuck you Wildcards... Wildcards SUCK! Fuck you Wildcards... Wildcards SUCK! Fuck you Wildcards... Wildcards SUCK! Fuck you Wildcards..."**

Fuck you Centurion and Maverick!!!
                                             
                    WHEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!


*********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

*** END INTERMISSION ***
We now take you to back to the Shane of today, but he's not alone...

*********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Scene:
        "A Walk To Remember"

Featuring:
        Shane
        Greggo, Shane's longtime, mischievous companion
        Shane's new bodyguard with some cockamamie name

Narration by:
        Random Ricky, a fairly rudimentary and inexpensive narrator like what many people use, with a boring ass voice and no hesitation to share his own opinion, but at least he still makes less errors than most.

---

All was calm along the street until... "Greggo, get the fuck back here!"

Shane can't believe how far ahead his pill popping (and sometimes pill snorting) brethren has strayed, continuing to yell to him with another, "Slow down, Greggo!" before Greggo finally stops and lets Shane and his bodyguard, 'MonoAtomic Iridium', finally catch up.

Pause – Hold up... Da fuq was dude's name again? Oh who cares, it's just some random juiced up bodyguard. I'm sure nobody needs to concern themselves with him... right? Insert SADISTIC WINK, and resume footage. Apparently I'm the only narrator so far to be informed of this goof's name, so... yay?

"Stop walking ahead of us!" Shane shouts at the glassy eyed, drooling Greggo who is so doped up he shouldn't even be allowed in public. Probably a damn pedo, too. The delirious dope fiend garbles some inaudible nonsense and facepalms himself in dismay as Shane looks at him like he's a lost cause. "Now let's go!" Shane commands... "Steve Sayors is waiting!"



The trio continue down the boulevard with Shane in the lead, Greggo in tow, and MonoAtomic Iridium trailing farthest behind with a black briefcase in his hand. Shane glances back at Greggo once more and asks, "And why the hell are you dressed like some homosexual prep cuck again?" To which Greggo responds, "pills, maaa'aaan" and proceeds to (oh you've got to be kidding me) PUKE all over himself. This cracked out fucktard isn't even leaning forward or making any effort to avoid soaking himself in the wretched smelling vomit that's still flowing out of his mouth and down his chin like a mudslide. Full sized pills (WTF yo!) can be seen throughout his backflow; some pink, some blue, some green... pretty much every color of the rainbow. Somehow his vomit is gayer looking than his outfit? Shane just stops, wide eyed, and looks at MonoAtomic Iridium in disbelief. The well paid bodyguard remains expressionless. Dude deserves a serious raise at this point, am I right?

Shane of course tries to think of a way to play this off like it's not the worst thing in the world to happen, as he sarcastically states, "Well, I guess this can't be worse than spending two straight promos watching a bunch of guys playing cards and killing hype for big matches... Right?" Shane says to his bodyguard who just stands there. Shane then looks right at the camera for a second and repeats in a somewhat panicked tone, "Right???" Yeah, I'd be panicking too if this pile of horse shit were my promo against talents as refined and calculated as The Wildcards. Thank god I'm just the damn narrator.

The upchuck continues to flow as Shane just looks away and covers his face from the horrendous odor. MonoAtomic Iridium still somehow remains stoic. One can only imagine what must be going through that man's head as he does his best to not react to anything around him. The closest we finally see to any response to what's happening is when he momentarily looks away with an ever so brief look of repugnance, but that was understandable – Greggo had just reached down curiously into the mountain of vomit collecting at his own feet and said, "Ooooh, mmmmmmm, we can't let THIS one go to waste!" ...and popped the largest blue pill BACK into his mouth and started to chew it! Oh my fucking god dude somebody euthanize this sick ass freak already!

"Greggo!" Shane's abrupt outburst was nothing compared to the sudden striking Greggo felt against the back of his ugly ass head from Shane's open hand. "Spit that back out!" ...but it was too late, as we quickly realize when Greggo opens his mouth wide and wags his tongue around like the sick asshole he is.

That's when it happens...

The moment that even Shane couldn't allow to be seen, at least not in this particular promo...

"Cut! Cut right now!" Shane's frantic bellowing toward the camera was just in the nick of time as a loud rumbling could be heard coming from Greggo's lower region and his pants had begun to drop!!!!???!!?!??

Well so much for THAT scene! I'm out! I'm done! I quit! Find someone else to narrate your traveling circus, Shane!

---

Scene: "The Interview"         Featuring: Shane Steve Sayors         Narration by: STEVE SAYORS! ...because nobody else was willing by this point

It had been a long time since I interviewed Shane one on one, and I wasn't exactly sure what to expect, but here I was... early as usual. I took my coffee from the barista and grabbed a seat toward the front so Shane would see me as soon as he arrived. It wasn't like Shane to request to meet at a place like Starbucks, but I definitely had no complaints there. In fact, this is probably the best location I will have ever interviewed Shane in the entire time I've known him! Let me go ahead and add some sugar to my coffee to sweeten the deal even further while I wait for... Oh dear... Oh God, no... Shane's across the street from Starbucks and he's not by himself. Is that...? I squint my eyes and raise my hand to block the sun that was flooding in through the window I was seated up against. Oh my word... That's Greggo with him!? And he appears to be completely covered in, oh jesus, I don't even know what. That's got to be human feces. It's got to be. There's also an intimidating looking, muscular bald man carrying a suitcase with him too. Maybe Shane's new bodyguard? Knowing my luck that guy has a bunch of sex toys in the suitcase. Oh jesus, They're getting closer and yeah that definitely looks like either feces or vomit all over Greggo's shirt and pants. I quickly grab my cell phone and keys off the table and just leave my coffee behind. I'm not dealing with this today. I head toward the counter and ask if there's a way to get out back but I'm told they can't allow a customer to use that exit. I beg and I plead but it is to no avail as the manager is telling me there's nothing he can do and if I don't step aside for the next customer he's going to have to escort me out. That's when I hear the *ding* of the front door opening. I know who it is but I don't turn around. A few seconds later I feel a hand on my shoulder. I'm fully expecting to turn around and be met with feces somehow ending up on my face or body but... It's only Shane! Was I hallucinating earlier? I look around in disbelief for a second and let out a sigh of relief as Shane seems puzzled by my reaction. "I'm puzzled by your reaction." Dang, I'm a good narrator. Anyway, I look around again and I walk toward the front windows of the Starbucks to peek outside and I still don't see Greggo! "I could have sworn I saw you with someone while you were crossing the street." "Oh, no... It's just me. Don't worry about that." Shane walks past me to order his beverage and I almost have a heart attack and a stroke just hearing his order... "I'll have a Grande Cafe Mocha with three extra shots of Espresso, and I'll also take a quadruppio Espresso on the side to help wash that down." Once he's done paying, I turn to him and I just have to ask... "Did I hear you right? What the heck even is a quadruppio?" "Oh, it's just some bullshit term the tool bags around here made up because they heard a double Espresso is a doppio, which is actually Italian for double... so they think they can make up their own words like trippio and quadruppio and so on... I just play along because it makes me look good to the young hot studs and ladies who often come here. They hear me speaking their language and see me looking like a million bucks with this beautiful face, this popping chest, my custom tailored suits, and it just makes it all the easier to seduce them and spread my seed." "Studs and ladies?" "Yup, you heard me, Steven. I'm not restricted by the imaginary constraints of man made sexuality or laws. Everyone is fair game, Steve... EVERYONE. Sex is universal, and as Robert California taught us in Season 8 of The Office, everything is sex." "But I" "EVERYTHING." I stop and just look at Shane for what starts to feel like a very awkward moment but luckily his liquid heart attacks are ready for him at the counter so his rather disturbing stare is broken quickly, allowing me to make my way toward the table I was originally seated in. Shane goes and grabs an ungodly amount of raw sugar and mixes it into his drinks before coming to join me. He looks at my coffee, which is literally just a regular coffee, and he seems appalled. "Leave it to you to order the most boring thing on the menu. No wonder everyone in the XWF loves you so much and keeps you around. You're just like all of them." I take a sip of my coffee and just let the insults roll off of me as I've become very accustom to this treatment over the years. Shane may be one of the creepiest guys I've dealt with but as far as the insults go, I've heard much worse from others with sharper tongues. I glance at the cameraman who is doing his best to not stand in the way of any customers walking around and I go ahead and get this interview started. "I wanted to start out by thanking you for taking the time to meet with me today, Shane. As someone who has followed your career since the day you entered the business, I'm pleased to be the one to be able to interview you about your upcoming match at XX that also happens to involve three other men I've followed since their debuts." "Of course, Steve. Everything worth talking about started in my CCWF, the Championship Wrestling Federation. Just tell it like it is." "Well, some may take issue with that statement bu-" "Excuse me? Who could take issue? If you take a look at the entire XX card, if memory serves me right, EIGHT of the biggest names on that card are former CCWF roster members. Even BIGG RIGG was in the CCWF if you remember, Steven... and a lot of people seem to like to forget about that. Do you know who else happened to be in the CCWF and are both former title holders in CCWF?" I have a feeling I know where he's going with this but I just let him continue... "Both halves of your MAIN EVENT, that's who. Steve Jason got his start in the CCWF. Everyone knows that, but some people seem to forget that THE BRAND is a former CCWF title holder in his own right, during a time when the XWF was forcing him to basically fake an injury so he wasn't allowed to compete on XWF television, so he said fuck that and came where the real action was. He didn't stay long because he was rightfully treated as a mid-carder and it was clear he wouldn't be able to rack up the insanely convoluted winning streak the XWF was feeding him, but he was there nonetheless." "You have no idea how much it pleases me to see that 20 years after the XWF's creation, it's two former CCWF champions doing battle in the main event and in what could be considered the biggest match in wrestling history." I start to say something but Shane interrupts... "You're welcome, Sayors." Shane turns to the camera and addresses you all. "You're welcome, everyone. From the marks to the smarks to the neckbeards, you're ALL welcome." Shane stands up and takes a bow, really soaking up the moment like the arrogant prick he tends to be at times. Of course I keep those thoughts to myself, though. "You do make a valid point and there's no denying all eyes will be on that main event, but let's talk a little about your match and how this all came to be when you originally weren't even supposed to be a part of this reunion show." Shane takes his seat and starts drinking his Cafe Mocha with so much Espresso in it that it could probably kill a horse. "Yes, let's talk about that. Let's talk about how" chuckling "I wasn't supposed to be a part of it. Heh..." "Is there something you want to tell us? What's so amusing about that?" With a sly grin on his face he leans back in his chair and gazes out to the people passing by in front of the Starbucks. "Do you have any idea who I am, Steve?" I wasn't exactly expecting that question. I doubt it's going to be a simple answer... "Tell us." "I'm the REASON this reunion show happened in the first place. Hell, Steve, I AM THE REUNION SHOW." "I'm not sure I follow." "That's to be expected, because you're as simple as all the rest. Let me ask you a question, Sayors – Did you happen to pay any attention at all to the TIMING of my abrupt 'exit' from the XWF?" "I haven't put a lot of thought into it but now that you mention it, it does seem like you resigned as XWF owner, or benefactor, or whatever your title was just in time for you to be out of the picture when people started talking and tweeting about the 20 year reunion special." "You've got that half right, Steve. A better way to word that would be to say I made my exit so there COULD BE talk of a 20 year reunion special. Look at the names that are on the XX card and think back over the last near decade... the vast majority of them haven't set foot in the XWF because they were afraid to compete under my rules and they were afraid to be exposed as being far less than the 'legendary' competitors they all claimed to be." "Very few of those names dared to compete under my reign, but do you know who did compete?" "AIDAN 'BLIZZARD' COLLINS." "He dared to enter my doors in late 2013 and immediately tried to verbally cut down the entire roster, calling them inferior and claiming he would be holding the top championship in short order. I lost count of how many times he called OTHER people's promos contrived - apparently his favorite word - yet it was he who was struggling the most to twist and turn the tide in his favor." "Do you know what happened to him?" "Loss." "After loss." "After loss." "Followed by one of the most epic temper tantrums this place has ever seen to date." Aidan's lucky to even be in the top 300 of all time after his emasculate display!!! Fucking ineffective pussy. I'd get a bigger hard on from -->one of these silicon sex dolls<-- than I ever could from Blizzitch's nasty, defiled, worn, tattered, cunt hole." "Now, granted Blizzard was never the top guy in any era of XWF but the way he came charging through those doors and claiming to be light years ahead of everyone else definitely matched the same senseless egomaniacal bullshit the vast majority of those older names love to regurgitate and recycle. It's like they all had the same script, and because of that, they almost all knew to just stay away when the playing field was finally level as a result of my taking over... and they CERTAINLY saw what happened to poor lil' Blizz. He was the perfect representative of their hive-mind superiority complex finally being put to a real test. I sure hope he found someone worse than himself to face at XX so he at least stands a chance of FINALLY gaining another victory under the XWF banner. Oh wait, yup, he found somebody worse alright! HAHAHA!" Shane has a hard time holding back his laughter at this point. He leans over in his chair and laughs so hard he almost falls to the floor. "HAHAHAHA Ooooooh, man... Too easy. These dopes are putty in my ass." "Anyway, through my digression we're brought back to the main point about how it was my exit from the XWF that ALLOWED this XX extravaganza to even be formed. Do you think for one second you'd see disabled relics like Ranma Saotome, Ace Vincent, Famine of the Vile, Star, Mighty Kid, or even Chronic Chris Page on that card had MY name been ANYWHERE in the discussion of who was involved in the XWF of today?" I see where Shane's going with this but I need to be careful how I answer, especially when he's got hot coffee at his disposal. "While we may see the reasoning a little differently, no, we probably wouldn't see most of those names being booked today if you had been around." "There's NO reasoning to see differently, Steven. It's a fact – Without my departure being made known to them by certain names they trusted, they would have said FUCK NO to being a part of any XWF show in today's day and age." "You know what the most glorious part about all of this is, though?" "What's that?" "Those fools were led straight into a false sense of security through all of the early XX negotiations and match signings... and even the ones who had some lingering suspicions in the back of their minds were put further at ease once the official card went up and there was STILL no hint or sign of mean ol' Shane to spoil their fun or exploit their presence." Shane chuckles under his breath and takes a few sips of his 'quadruppio' Espresso. "That was... until that fateful night when Wednesday Warfare saw the 'return' of the one man who everyone in this company has been affected by in ways they can never rectify or forget. As I said that night on Warfare, I originally was going to be showing up as the MANAGER of the Bloodhounds but the fact that Juggalo got severely injured by The Wildcards played right into my hands even better than I had ever predicted! There I was, once again stealing the spotlight from everyone else on Warfare as my gorgeous face was plastered across the X-Tron for all to see in the closing moments of the show." "There I was, the very next day, officially added to the XX card that all those cowards had thought would be completely" In a high pitched, mocking tone, "FREEEEEEEEE of any involvement from the big bad boogie man who haunts them in their sleep." "From step one: my supposed exit... everything has gone according to plan. I could manipulate these dopes until the end of time itself and none of them would ever smarten up! Now, not only are they contractually obligated to appear on the same card that will see me brutalize and sodomize two of their own beloveds, but they're once again contributing to putting money into my bank account while they no doubt bitch and moan about the fact that Shane is STILL here laughing in their faces and giving their strings the tug job of the millennium." I was a little caught off guard by Shane's last statement so I had to question it. "Am I to understand you're claiming to profit off of their involvement in the XWF?" "You heard me loud and clear. There's no doubt about it." "So are you saying you're still the owner? Or some level of.." "Oh, stop it. Do you really think I'm going to spill it all this easily? Trust me when I tell you, I'm profiting financially and I'm benefiting in other less traditional ways by this entire event and everything that's led up to it. In fact, I would say this has been my most successful year in the XWF to date, for a number of reasons that have yet to be unveiled! HA!" Shane winks as I just take a sip of my coffee and come to terms with the fact that I'm not going to be able to make sense of what he's saying. There's a good chance it's all a collection of lies anyway, coming from him... right? But then again, there's really no denying the timing and everything as far as how the XX show and card came together. "You've really given everyone a lot to think about here today." "Have I? Are you sure they're capable of thought? I wouldn't say 'everyone' as carelessly as you did. Maybe SOME are thinking. Maybe." Typical Shane, finding any possible way to cut people down and insult their intelligence. "Moving on, I think we do need to touch on the recent promos of The Wildcards, Centurion and Maverick. Both of them had some very strong words for you and seemed to be much more focused on you than on your partner K-Money. Do you worry at all that, given the lack of safety in a Raw Brutality Match, they might be looking to end your career or worse?" "I'm well aware of the level of attention I COMMAND from anyone I step in the sights of, Steven. Do I expect it? Yes. Do I think it's a wise move on their part to fall into such a predictable routine? No... and that's because, no matter how big of a deal I am in Centurion and Maverick's heads, I'm really just a guy who has made an obnoxious amount of money off of them and played them like fiddles since their very first day in the business. I'm not a wrestler, Steven. I'm a distraction. I'm the art of misdirection spun so many times over that even I can't trust myself. K-Money is by far one of the most dangerous men to ever set foot in any ring and for them to even THINK for one second that I should be their primary focus has already rung that closing bell and given us the announcement we ALL knew was coming..." Shane stands up in Starbucks, holds his Espresso up to his mouth and yells into it like it's a microphone. "YOUR WINNERS! AS A RESULT OF REFEREE STOPPAGE! K-MONEY AND SHANE ... THE FUGITIVES OF SANITY!!!!!" Shane's face was turning red he was screaming so hard as everyone froze and stared at him like he was an absolute nut case. He sits back down like nothing happened and continues at a normal volume once again. "As I was saying, Sayors, K-Money is going to shatter their jaws and collapse their spinal cords without so much as even breaking a sweat... and even once they're both a crumpled mass of twitching gore on the mat, they'll STILL probably have their eyes locked on ME... yet there's a good chance I will not have even needed to lay a single finger on either of them the entire night. My undeniable magnetism and attraction has TAKEN them, Steve. It's taken them for a ride they'll never remember because the ride's already been going for nearly twenty years and they STILL don't understand how or why they're both speeding so fast toward total and utter damnation." "Did you happen to hear the things Maverick said about me, Steve?" "I did. He seems to" "Shut up, Sayors. Maverick did a great job of praising me and recognizing my accomplishments early on in the business when he mentioned how my CCWF had the competing XWF up against a wall in the early years. It's true, but then what happened? As Maverick truthfully stated, I sold the CCWF to Cooper – a move MANY people questioned and condemned but to this day I wouldn't change it for the world. You have to remember that every step I take in the physical realm is merely a reenactment of steps I've already laid and seen play out in my head. Long before any 'CCWF invasions' or any official on screen appearance of the great Shane on XWF television, I already had my talons deep inside of the asshole of this federation. I was already inside of Jonathyn and I was already a force behind the scenes of the XWF even BEFORE the CCWF ever closed the first time!" "Didn't you catch my promo about, oh I'd say maybe 13 years ago, when I was booked in a match against everyone's favorite wrestler... CYREN?" "I'm not sure I recall that, actually." "Well, even back then, I had no problems admitting to the world in that promo that the entire idea of any CCWF invasions or any 'us vs them' bullshit that Jonathyn and I were a part of, was all RIGGED! I admitted it clear as day way back then for all to hear, but since the XWF has always had so many narcissists who only care about their OWN promos and hardly pay attention to anything else, hardly anyone even took notice." "It was for a match against Cyren? Did you win?" Shane laughs and takes a sip of his Espresso. "That's besides the point but OF COURSE I DID! That's probably why, years later, he decided to stage a FAKE return of The Black Order and had some worthless piece of shit POSING as me during that return. That's the ONLY reason James Raven is able to claim a 'victory' over me, by the way; because Cyren had a fake Shane accepting matches and jobbing out while in reality I was probably having an orgy in Thailand with some of the hottest ladyboys known to mankind." "I... uh, wow." "Wow is right! You don't know what you're missing! Let's get back on track, though. Maverick brought up a few great points while he was praising me and he even was kind enough to tell the truth and call Centurion 'BORING AS SHIT' – Mav's words." "Yeah, I did notice that. I take it more as a friendly banter amo-" "I take it as him being HONEST! I don't care if Centurion giggled and nutted in his pants while plucking at his own nipples when he heard it, it was still true! They say people are often the most honest when they're drunk, but the closest runner up to being drunk is when people play along with that whole 'friendly banter' bullshit so many people love to do. It was also true when Maverick clearly stated that it was he who showed Centurion the template for success that allowed Cent to later be a big enough name for The Apex Prophecy to welcome him on board." "Do you know what the best part of all that is?" "If Centurion has Maverick to thank for that, and Maverick only rose to the heights he rose to as a result of my influence and the tests I FORCED him to endure in the CCWF... it means we officially have ME to thank for the mere existence of The Apex Prophecy of today!" I can't help but be taken aback by Shane's words as my eyebrows shoot to the roof. This guy has somehow evolved into such an egomaniac that he makes the Shane of any past era seem timid and modest. "I feel like I speak for many people when I say that's a highly questionable statement, but I" "Questionable? QUESTIONABLE?" Shane slams his hand down on the table and our coffees tip over. Shane grabs my sleeve and uses it to quickly wipe up the mess before anyone notices. Thank goodness it wasn't still scalding hot coffee, and considering that I thought I saw a feces-covered Greggo with Shane earlier, I should be thankful it's just coffee ending up on me today. Shane seems really triggered by me questioning him as he shoves my arm back toward me once he's done wiping up the mess. "You want to know what's QUESTIONABLE, you blithering sack of shit? Eh?" "What's that?" "Centurion's flaming bag of trash that he tossed out during HIS words about me. He really went off the rails, and in more ways than one!" "You see, I'm sure you know this but maybe some of our viewers don't... There's this unspoken rule we have, or at least we like to think people in the business know about the rule despite not speaking about it often... The rule is called don't pull OOC shit into your promos and-" "Woah!!!!!!!" "Hold on, Shane!!!" "I don't think you're supposed to even be saying those three letters!" "What's it matter? If other people in the XWF of today can repeatedly get away with doing it, why can't I reference it? Besides... all those letters stand for is Off Of Camera, Steven. Did you think I meant something else? Heh..." "Uhhhhh..." My eyes narrow as I glances left to right, not sure how to respond to Shane at this point. I might need to cut this interview short if this goes in the direction I think it's going. "All I'm saying is, most of us know not to bring certain Off-Of-Camera topics into the realm of the x-treme because as soon as you do, you open up the flood gates for your opponent that week to use that same kind of ammunition against you. Most of the veterans in the business know this already but much to my astonishment it seems like Centurion has forgotten this golden rule. You see, Steven, not only did I catch Centurion using the word 'gimmick' in a recent promo of his that WASN'T even directed at me... but I also couldn't help but notice him pulling blatantly skewed Off-Of-Camera material right out of his defiled anal cavity during his promo that WAS directed at me. So it seems like no matter who he's talking to or talking about, he can't keep his shit in his ass and we ALL know once it falls out, it's not going back up inside." Jesus fuck, Shane's got problems. Ugh, I better just go along with this... "What exactly was said, Shane, and why is saying the word gimmick off limits?" "Well, the word 'gimmick' per se might not necessarily be off limits, depending on how you use it, but as soon as you go around accusing other wrestlers of running gimmicks, it pretty much tells us you're a joke. Did you happen to catch Centurion's recent promo for Wednesday Night Warfare, during which he gave a lecture to a group of unsuspecting, impressionable minds at Atlantic Cape Community College?" "I did, and I thought it wa-" "I don't care what you think, Steve. Now as far as that lecture went, I'll be the first to admit Centurion looked sharp as hell in that suit... the man has impeccable taste, but that's where his ability to impress comes to a screeching halt. Not only did he use the line, 'I get it, we all need a gimmick, but when your gimmick has you looking like a character from Hellsing, maybe it’s time for an overhaul', but he also went on to prove he's a thief!" "A thief?" "A THIEF!!! That's right... as if it's not cringe worthy enough anytime some dope rambles on about 'gimmicks', he had to humiliate himself even further toward the end of that same promo when he made a mockery of the great Scott Steiner – a man I know very well from the time he spent competing in my CCWF – by STEALING and butchering Scott's patented Steiner-Math without crediting the great mathematician by name!" "Stealing his math?" "You heard me, Sayors. You claimed to have seen Centurion's promo so I'm a bit shocked by your ignorance here. You haven't seen Steiner Math in action before? Have you ever watched ANYTHING besides XWF since you got fired by me in the CCWF? I'm not going to quote the whole comment but anyone who watches Centurion's 'School Is In Session' promo will no doubt catch what I'm talking about toward the end of it. Well, almost everyone anyway; I imagine some of the narcissists on today's roster that just tell us their incredibly lackluster and banal life stories because they've never watched wrestling a day in their life before coming here, might not GET it." "I see..." This is getting weird. Shane has had way too much caffeine and who knows what else before he got here. I need to hurry this interview along... "And what about the other thing you mentioned?" "Other THING? What?" "I'm just trying to keep this interview moving because it's getting a little uncomfortable. You said Centurion used 'Off Of Camera' material in his promo for XX against you...?" "Oh, right. I guess I abhor Centurion so much I already started daydreaming about happier memories, like that time I ripped my scrotum open while climbing over a fence." "What????" Shane slams his hand down on the table. "Stay on track, Sayors! It's time to talk about that lovely Off-Of-Camera crap Centurion tried twisting. Let me ask you a question... Do you have any idea what THIS is even supposed to mean?" Shane pulls out his phone and tells me to call him. I just do as he says at this point because he's clearly on the verge of a mental breakdown and I don't want to be attacked. I pull out my phone and I call Shane's number... After a few seconds, I hear coming out of his phone... " permabanned all the old guys, and was ready to lead the XWF into a new era." Shane picks up, tells me to fuck myself in the asshole, and hangs up. "Uhhhh... So um, I...." "Did you hear my ringtone, Sayors? I took the ONE good trick Griffin MacShitbag ever had and I made somebody's asinine quote as my cellphone ringtone to remind me of how idiotic of a line had been said!" "So every time you get a call, you hear Centurion saying that?" "Exactly, but that brings us back to the question at hand – Can you EXPLAIN it? Can you make sense of what he said about me supposedly 'permabanning' all the old names and starting a new era???" "Ah, yes, if I remember right, I think Centurion was probably talking about the reboot when all the big names had to leave and" "Stop right there, Sayors. That's NOT what he was talking about. The 'reboot era' you're describing is something only Jonathyn Brown did, and that was long before I took over as owner. I actually wasn't involved with the XWF in any capacity during its ONLY reboot. Now, with that said, can you possibly explain Centurion's comment?" I give the camera "the look" – You know the one. It's that "holy crap what's happening" look. Shane has lost it. Ugh, dang it, I better just play along here... "I suppose I can't explain it because even if I think about 'Off Of Camera' events, there still was no perma-banning of all the old names by you. Centurion may have just been mistaken, Shane. I don't think he necessarily went with 'Off Of Camera' material as you claim. Is it possible you're jumping to conclusions here?" "Not a chance, because not only is he reaching for that cheap ass, off camera material, but he's even LYING about how it went down! He couldn't even get the timing of the events down properly because he claimed I 'perma-banned' everyone a couple months BEFORE Cyren's arrival, yet the massive shit storm that saw a mass, willing retreat – aka not a banning – of many old names was actually happening while Cyren had already been back for quite some time!" "They ran away, Sayors... and they all know it. Hell, even the ever so short-lived flash in the pan known as, I think it's "Big Shank", just finally admitted on XWF television that he ran for the hills in 2012. Go ahead and click that link I just supplied and scroll to the highlighted name '' and see for yourself! HAHA!" Oh my lord... Shane is gone. He's not even on this planet anymore. "Link? Scroll down? Whaaaa...?" "Ignore what I just said about links! Pay attention! According to his XX promo, as soon as 'BS' – perfect initials by the way – heard the name Shane and found out one of his friends wasn't running the show to help him acquire unwarranted opportunities and spotlight, he was DONE... so why couldn't Centurion just be a man and be honest like that guy finally was? Centurion is not only a coward but he's a liar and he's nuts, Sayors! I don't go out of my way to keep people around who are afraid to compete without being surrounded by friends who help them look strong. What was I supposed to do? Chain Centurion and the other legendary pussies up in my dungeon and stop them from following their lovers out the door? Huh???" Shane has been getting redder and louder with each word, now grabbing me by the shirt collar and shaking me violently. Oh jesus, I was afraid things were going to get bad.... "HE'S NUTS! Do you hear me, Sayors?!?!? CENTURION IS NUTS!!!" Shane shoves me away and takes a deep breath before continuing. "What's even more insane than all that, though? I guess Centurion claiming he hasn't heard of The Fugitives of Sanity before. Do you know why that is?" "It's possible he just hasn't heard o-" "SHUT UP! I wasn't asking you; I was asking ME!" Wow. "The reason that's even more nuts is because he knows damn well he was the first name to come crawling to me BEGGING to be included in the stable after the big reveal which saw K-Money, T-Money, Sewaside, Tomoko Hanahara, and Weapon:Ashen come together and immediately be recognized as easily the most overpowered stable in the history of the XWF. Not just dominant, Sayors... flat out overpowered to the point of it being unfair to even compare the FoS to ANY other group in history. The SAME NIGHT the Fugitives debuted on XWF television, Centurion wanted in... because he knew the power he beheld and he knew the mastermind behind it." "I'm not sure I follow, Shane. Weren't you leading The Black Order around that time? You weren't actually in the-" "Steven..." "Yes?" "Remember how I said once you bring 'Off Of Camera' material into play, you screw yourself over because then it can be shot right back down your throat?" Reluctantly, I give the answer I know Shane's waiting for...... "….....Yes." -_- "This is more of that." "O...k...?" "Behind closed doors, I was the driving force behind the assembly and launch of The Fugitives of Sanity despite my public role with The Black Order, and since I already knew The Black Order was a sinking ship I had NO problem helping to unleash the Fugitives onto the scene. People who were 'in the know' about off screen activities were very aware of this, and Centurion was one of those well informed parties at that time." "Ah, I see." "Right, and like I said, I don't even think a full hour had passed since the debut of the group before Centurion was blowing up my voicemail and asking me if I could get him into the group. He didn't even wait until the Fugitives were STABLE CHAMPIONS, Steven! No sir! He had to start trying to weasel his way in mere minutes, hell maybe even seconds after the the XWF signed off the air that night... yet now he claims to not remember? Hell, I guess I'd try and forget about that too if I had been shot down so fast." "Could it be that he just meant he didn't know you were an official member of t-" "STOP IT! Stop trying to defend that desperate liar and thief! These were his EXACT words..." Shane sends himself a text on his phone and the text tone that goes off is Centurion's voice again... "the 'Fugitives of Sanity'? That’s news to me. Was this a pairing that existed when I was in the middle of my breakdown? Or is this an old team that barely registered on the radar, which is why I don’t remember them?" First a ringtone and now a text tone, both of Centurion quotes? Wow, Centurion has really gotten under Shane's skin. I don't even know what to say anymore. "And you're going to try to make excuses for THAT?" "...Maybe it was during his breakdown like he said?" "HA! I imagine that humiliation was THE CAUSE of his breakdown, Sayors!" "Let me just say this much... we all better hope to God, Satan, or SOMEONE that Centurion was lying out of his ass when he made that comment because the alternative is much worse and means his mind has already started to decompose and it's possible the dementia is already quite far along in him. He can't remember the former stable champions he wished to join while he was 100% active and competing on the XWF's roster during the entire reign of??? WHAT?!? DOES THAT IDIOT EVEN REMEMBER TOMOKO HANAHARA? She was one of us, ya know! His own FORMER partner! Does he even remember winning the tag titles with her before she ascended to greatness and left him far behind??? Does he remember ANYTHING correctly? ANYTHING AT ALL???? DOES AH FFFUCKIN'SHHHEEAA! (insert several dozen more things being shouted incoherently that aren't real words)" Calm down, Shane... You're turning beet red. The heat flowing out of every orifice of Shane's body had met my face like a hard slap. I feel like I'm standing in front of a fireplace. Shane immediately pauses, lets out a sigh, and indeed remains silent for a moment to regain his composure and cool down. Now peering off into the distance, the stubble of his own cheek seemed to calm him as he grazed his open hand against it, almost trance like. I don't know what's happening, but at least he seems to be settling down. Shane then adjusts his glasses which had started inching down his nose while he was shouting in my face like a raging psychopath, and he unbuttons the top half of his shirt to let his self proclaimed "chesticles" breathe. "I'm fine, Steve. I'm fine." Something's off. Shane starts to wobble back and forth in his chair with a distant look in his eyes... PLOP! "Holy shit! Somebody call 911!" Shane's body was flat on the floor and a puddle of Espresso was forming under his face. A panic ensues in Starbucks when suddenly two men come SMASHING through the door and OH MY GOD NO it's some giant roided up bald beefcake and Greggo who has some rancid smelling brown and rainbow colored substance all over him! The muscular bald man has a black suitcase which he quickly sets down on the floor next to Shane's body and opens it up to reveal several syringes that are larger than any syringes I've ever seen in my life! The large muscular man asks Greggo which syringe he should use but Greggo is too busy turning Shane face up on the floor and humping his face! Greggo starts yelling for Shane to wake up while humping his face and the muscular man is throwing a freakin' fit! It has to be roid rage! He's sending chairs flying through the air, punching holes through windows and sending Starbucks employees flying out into the street to get run over! I look down at the contents of the open briefcase and I see that each giant syringe is clearly labeled... There are four of them...    1. Super Sex Formula    2. Date Rape Shot x 10    3. Date Rape Shot x 1,000 - Horse strength    4. Use in case Shane passes out from going fucking nuts over a Centurion promo A light bulb goes off above my head! 💡 I start yelling to Greggo and the muscle bound maniac! "It's the yellow syringe on the end! Number four! Use that one!" Greggo and the big man start fighting over syringe number four but it doesn't take long for Greggo to be thrown through a wall by the big man, who takes the syringe and he aims....... and BLAAAAM!!!! Straight to Shane 's dick! "WOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHOOOOHHHH!!!!!" Shane sits up with his eyes bulging and lets out a terrifying cry like I've never heard before in my life! I can't even stand to watch what's happening as I cover my eyes and start praying for this to end... and all of a sudden... … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … "I'm fine, Steve. I'm just bloody fine." ~END~ See you at XX!