We are met with our most heroic of heroes on a cold, damp, Wednesday night.

The fact that it IS cold and damp outside we only know thanks to our almighty and omniscient narrator, for our scene takes place indoors, with a camera pointed at our usually costumed heroine, now wearing loose evening clothing. She’s sitting in her couch, leaning forward while staring at a picture frame. She sighs, shakes her head and then lays it top-down on the nearest coffee table.

Ruby: “Ahhh… Men. What would we be without them, right? Some of us would say we’d have already moved past the digital age by now. Others would say we’d still be stuck in caves, as a species. Of course, as always, the truth is probably a bit somewhere in between. One need only take a look at the XWF roster to see that, yes indeed, a lot of them look like grunting cavemen who would be better suited as extra’s on a live action Flintstones series. Luckily, there are also good and decent men, forward thinking paragons of virtue. There are rare, sure, but they exist if you know where to look. But no matter whether you love them, hate them, or merely appreciate the many differences between them, there is a silent killer on the loose. And that’s something a vigilante can’t let go by unnoticed.

“No, I’m not talking about the amounts of gas passed inside the catering rooms of XWF events. I’m sure that has been well documented, and forms the basis of many a gimmick around here, something my less tasteful colleagues use to base their entire raison d’etre around. Which is fair enough. There are, after all, others who base their entire characters around tirelessly repeating the same curse word and passing it off as entertainment. There are others who merely copy others and then claim it was just parody rather than uninspired and insipid gobbledygook. There are, even, some who combine all of the former and then dare claim they work hard? Not sure how that fits, but I digress. I was talking about the silent killer that hunts and haunts all men.

“Age. And all the bad things that come with it. Because while the XWF’s medical exams account for many things, like concussion protocols, it seems to me like there is ONE gaping hole inside the entire procedure. I am, of course, talking about the old ‘finger trick’. Prostate cancer is a serious matter, guys, and often only detected when it’s already too late. That’s why, as of now, I am starting a new campaign. Because while women have the absolutely fantastic breast cancer awareness campaign, I feel like this one isn’t nearly talked about enough. Sure, some men grow a mustache in November, but it’s time to take a more significant approach. Because why can we have campaigns in which we encourage millions of women to have their breasts checked, but forget all about our beloved men, who might literally be dying from the inside? That hardly seems fair.

“So I call upon the leaders of the XWF. And one man in particular. Vinnie Lane! You, as a leader we can all look up to, must set the prime example. A man well over 40, bang smack in the middle of the hazard group, could be an inspiration to millions. I implore you, no beg of you… get it done! But not in some kind of back room. But live on TV, right in the middle of the ring. Display the courage that so many others lack, and show them that, yes indeed, 2 minutes and slightly more inches could save your life. You can be the inspiration we need. An inspiration that even I, mask and all, could never hope to be. I don’t expect an answer straight away. Just know I won’t take a ‘no’ for an answer.”

Ruby shakes her head and tucks away a lock of hair behind her ear.

Ruby: “But of course, there are other matters at hand as well. It’s the first Anarchy of the new year, and it seems like my old Lethal Lottery partner and myself once again find each other as part of the same team. The Pink Mist and the Banana-Lime Blur reunite once again! I have faith in Vita finding the way to the high road. After all, she finally admitted that her silly fake Anarchy title shenanigans had gone on long enough, and I trust she’s mature enough to give it 100% in this match, no matter who she faces. Vita isn’t the one I’m worried about. But I’m not really worried about the other two either. Sure, Fuzz is a great wrestler. Winning the Lethal Lottery proves just that. And while I wasn’t planning on tuning in to his obscenely named show, it just might be worth it if I can catch Centurion wearing a dress. But Fuzz, no matter who comes out on top on Anarchy, please don’t take it out on my by reporting me on Twitter, okay? I’ve heard it through the grapevine you’ve developed a bit of a reputation for that? But that’d be weak sauce, my guy. You don’t need that. As for your partner Noah Jackson, I wish him a pleasant 2020, full of fantastic parodies that exist solely to make fun of others. The best part about that, from his perspective, is undoubtedly that he doesn’t need a single original thought in order for him to keep spouting his nonsense. Why people still tune in to it remains a mystery to me that even the World’s Greatest Detective would not be able to solve, but it is what it is. I’ll see you boys on Anarchy. But I think I’ll leave the mask at home for this one.”

Ruby winks, and the camera cuts to a commercial of Skechers Shape Ups*.


*may or may not get parodied in the future