THE Tristan Slater is shown seated wearing a Robbie Bourbon Mask covering his face as he gazes into the camera.


”Hey there two tons of fun,. Allow me to be perfectly clear when it comes to you because apparently, you’ve got a hard on for me for whatever reason I don’t really know or care about because to me you’re level of importance ranks just underneath a slug within this world we live in. For weeks you’ve been calling my name, you’ve jumped me from behind, you’ve tried to dictate my pace and it got you absolutely nowhere; and to hear you talk you’re going to completely own me, right? Much like you owned The Engineer? Much like you owned Centurion? Bruh, get the fuck out of here. While I’ll be the first to admit that perhaps I’m on the wrong side of a winning streak the same can be said for you so it’s perfect timing that this little battle you’ve clamored over finally comes full circle because I know I could use a win and apparently you’re a bigger punching bag than anyone else residing within the land of extreme. I mean I do love how you’re supposed to be playing this role as a hero when your actions speak more towards a villain.”


It’s not that I’m even upset with Robbie for acting like a coward and laying hands on me like a bitch. It’s an act of desperation because now it’s safe to say that Robbie realizes he’s bitten off a little more than he can fucking chew. Now, I could have easily shown up on Warfare and returned the favor; I mean it’s not that I didn’t want too but when you’re not on the right side of the shot callers your ideas seem to get discarded or lost in the shuffle.


”You jump me from behind on Savage for what? To send me some sort of message? Clearly message wasn’t received because I walked out on my own accord following that little stunt but I do hope that it gave you some feeling of dominance or stroke whatever part of your ego needed to be stroked at the time because you’re on JUST as bad a losing streak as I am but you spout out about how you’re going to destroy men and yet here I sit wearing YOUR mask desperately trying to see the world through your eyes and the only thing I see is failure. You couldn’t hit water if you fell out of a fucking boat right now, you’re NO better than me regardless of how much you want to pretend you are. What you fail to realize is I’ve been playing you since you opened your cock sucker and spouted out my name as a way to make yourself feel better about being the loser that you are and have led you down the path of sorrow and pain because in just a little over a week you and I are going to be locked inside a Steel Cage. Two men that haven’t had a lot of success in recent history, each of us looking at this from the same perspective in the fact that all it takes is one match to turn around a struggling career. Now I’m not going to stand here and guarantee shit because here lately my guarantees are about as meaningful as… well… as yours. I’m not going to guarantee a goddamn thing other than bringing a fight to you out of no other reason than because I’m sick and tired of coming up short or having the spotlight taken away from me. I’ve fought long and hard and while my record is easily questionable my resilience never will be and for the second time in six weeks I’ll be stepping inside a Steel Cage… I’m going to use this Cage match as a way to bounce back from the last one; which should be super simple because you’re NOWHERE near the caliber of a Robert Main or a Chris Page.”


I can dig the fact that you want to pretend to be bigger than you actually are, I can dig the fact that you want everyone to think that you stand a fucking chance… but in the real world you’re about as used up as any hooker walking the Las Vegas strip because everyone has given you a good pounding but they just don’t seem to take. Over the last several weeks you’ve been involved in some high profile affairs only to choke harder than Chris Page challenging for the Universal Title.


”Speaking of Rob and Chris… are you still kissing their asses? You name dropped them a lot in recent history for them both to just ignore you. God that’s got to suck to be you.”


You tried so hard to ride their jocks only to be ignored like a fat chick speed dating from both of them. It was one of the funniest things I’ve ever sat back and witnessed. At least I got some of their attention when I spoke their names while you just stand there with your dick in your hand. You’re not remotely close to that level of talent.


”Never will it be more evident why they brushed you off like the piece of trash you are the moment we step foot inside the Cage and the Cage is going to ultimately be the judge within this battle between you and I.”


I don’t know who’s bright idea it is to lock us inside a Steel Cage because it seems like we can’t go two weeks without SOMEBODY being in a Cage of some sort which only waters down this entire experience. Hell, I’ve was in a Cage a few weeks ago on Pay-Per-View. It never ceases to amaze me with how little the higher ups care about the overall presentation of their company, which is all the more reason why the XWF deserves to die.


”Savage Saturday Night will be the night in which I’ll be reintroducing your face into the mesh of the Cage, it will be the night in which I make you realize the single biggest mistake you could have ever made was knocking on my door thinking, assuming that I’m your golden ticket to trying to turn around your sinking career; you got a better shot at dropping one hundred pounds in a week than you do at beating me when we are locked inside that Steel Cage… and while I wish I could say I give a shit about this match the reality it that I don’t. This is merely a means to an end and means to your end because when you deal with me you’re dealing with Shane and if you think for one second that Shane doesn’t have a plan for you you’re a fucking idiot.”


The camera pans back revealing Shane with a sly smirk on his face standing next to THE Tristan Slater with the XWF Hart Championship resting in his hands.


”Once I dispose of Bourbon I’m going to be looking for you… Centurion. You see I have something that belongs to you, something that you’ve worked your ass off to make remotely relevant… the Hart Championship.”


THE Tristan Slater reaches over with his left hand where he rubs his hand across the gold front plate of the Hart Title before stating.


”Let me make something perfectly clear to you because I’m not holding your title hostage and if you want it back all you need to do is tell me when you and I can have our dance. Shane slapped the taste out of your mouth and now I’ve taken away YOUR property. This isn’t some power play to try and get a title shot because we all know I’ve not done a fucking thing to earn it… but then again neither did Robbie and the powers that be let that happen. I’ll allow YOU to dictate the pace with this and I’ll allow you to call the shots. You want your belt back? Accept my challenge and meet me in the ring because while you’ve been on a roll as of late it’s about time that comes to an end. I’ll even let you choose whether you put your strap on the line or if you don’t because in my eyes this exceeds a second tier Championship; but hey, what do I know.”


It’s not every day that you run across someone that gives you the keys to city. You want a piece of me? We both know that you do… I’m not a hard man to find and all you have to do is show up and name your stakes.


”The choice is up to you Cent. You know where I’ll be, and I’ll have your title with me.For those of you that are clueless as to how I came to having control of your title allow me to present unground footage that will answer that question.”


Our scene slowly fades out and to cell phone footage as Centurion is shown walking towards his locker room following a successful title defense over the State Puff Marshmallow Man in Robbie Bourbon. The XWF Hart Title slung over his right shoulder as he’s approached by a local media jockey. Centurion gives a brief interview as we can see from a distance yet can’t hear the audio. Once finished Centurion starts to walk further down the hallway where he reaches what appears to be his dressing room. Centurion opens the door to his locker room where he stops dead in his tracks as we can make out what he says.


”What the hell do you want?”


With Centurion distracted with what’s in his locker room we see THE Tristan Slater coming towards Centurions locker room wearing a Robbie Bourbon mask over his head while carrying a steel folding chair in his right hand while we hear Centurion continue.


”I’m not going to ask you again.”


THE Tristan Slater reaches the locker room door before he sizes up Centurion before whacking him across the back with a vicious chair shot that drops Centurion where he stands sending him falling face first to the floor inside the locker room. THE Tristan Slater steps through the door as we hear a second chair shot land as it echoes throughout the hallway. The cell phone starts to move towards the locker room as snickering can be heard.


The cell phone camera gets to the locker room door before showing us inside as THE Tristan Slater raises the chair before driving it violently into the back of Centurion as SHANE looks on with a smile on his face. THE Tristan Slater rolls Centurion over on to his back where he takes a mount position and starts hammering down with right hands to an unprotected head and face of the XWF Hart Champion. Each shot lands harder and harder than the one previous as there’s very little fight being put up by Centurion.


THE Tristan Slater snatches Centurion by the head with both hands as he peers into his glazed over eyes before he spouts out at the fallen Hart Champion.


”Do you think it’s a joke!”


THE Tristan Slater slaps Centurion across the face.


”Do you think I’m playing with you!”


There’s a second slap across the face of Centurion from THE Tristan Slater


”Consider this your wake up call…”


THE Tristan Slater gets up off the chest of Centurion where he snatches him up by the hair and holds him in place as we see Shane step forward where he looks down at Centurion. Shane holds out his right hand as we see the cell phone move towards Shane and dump baby powder into the palm of Shane’s hand.


Shane then uses the hand to slap Centurion across the face leaving his palm print on his cheek. THE Tristan Slater releases Centurion as he falls to the locker room floor. THE Tristan Slater shifts his attention towards the Hart Title that lays in the floor.


THE Tristan Slater reaches down picking the XWF Hart Title up off the floor before glancing over at Shane who gives his nod of approval. Slater’s attention diverts towards the cellphone and as he does the camera screen flips around revealing Peter Gilmour as the man behind the camera as he spouts out.


”SUCK MY DICK!”


[i]The feed abruptly cuts as we now go back to live shot of THE Tristan Slater staring at the camera with Shane standing next to him holding the Hart Title.


”I hope you enjoyed watching as I embarrassed you and took away your title. All you got to do is be the dealer that you are and name the stakes. I’m going to do everything that you do but only do it better. You beat Bourbon, I’m going to destroy him. This company won’t be able to protect you any longer, they can shoot down my ideas all they want but ultimately I’m going to get what I want much like I have right now…”


THE Tristan Slater points out the Hart Championship that is in Shane’s hands.


”I might not “do it” for the shot callers but there’s plenty of people that I “do it” for throughout this business; but now I’ve come to that cross roads on if the XWF is even a place I want to compete at. Losing sucks; especially when lesser people continue to get opportunities. I’m MAKING my opportunity.at the expense of you, Centurion. First let me get back on track and in order to do that I must slay you… Robbie. You picked this fight with me and now is the time that I’m going to make you regret it.”


There’s literally no place to go but up for me and I’m going to use Robbie as my spring board to build a little confidence, to provide that little blasting cap that will catapult me back to where I feel I need to be. There’s been many questions to be raised about who gets the “push” and who doesn’t when it comes to this place and it’s ALWAYS been a grey cloud hanging over the XWF. If I lose to Bourbon on Savage I don’t know what my future will hold here within the land of Xtreme because I won’t continue to put effort in and continue to be overlooked and underutilized. The past is the past and while Robbie is my immediate future I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t just a little interested in seeing what Centurion has to say. In the meantime fuck off.


** OOC: Centurion approved the usage and nature of usage of his character in this roleplay **

- XWF World Heavyweight Champion x2
- XWF United States Champion x1
- XWF Xtreme Champion x1