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Chris Page · (06-25-2020)

Humanizing Chris Page: Chapter 2
Narrated by Chris Page
Continued from:
http://xwf99.com/showthread.php?tid=37272

[Image: chris-jericho-celebrates-alone.jpg]

Even while running my conglomerate there was a constant in competition between the XWF and it was a competition that I presided over for the better part of three years before it simply became an inconvenience to put my nose to the grindstone and try. It became a revolving door; whatever flavor of the month was calling the shots at that time. My career isn’t defined by one era or one stretch of time because I wasn’t handed anything. I made my opportunities and capitalized on them to make myself into the fucking specimen that stands before all of you today. Oh, and for the record I am married with four kids. Some cock sucker I am right? I don’t know what’s wackier; the fact that everyone loves to go to that well or the fact that when you do go to that well it’s run dry. It ran dry a decade ago because of the lack of creativity you all collectively share when it comes to standing in front of a camera and trying to take shots at me. It’s either an incapacitated homosexual reference, it’s a lamer “passed your prime” or my personal favorite… “Overrated”. The sheer notion that you all believe the things you’re saying while not based on fact… Each one of you refuse to look at what history dictates when it comes to my name being mentioned in a sentence. Like the world is going to take your word over what is proven on a nightly basis any time I choose to enter that ring.

Now that we’ve talked a little bit about my past let’s shift to my present and talk more recent history because it seems to me that you’ve all forgotten who is truly responsible for setting the XWF ablaze… Once again because it unquestionably wasn’t Shawn, it undoubtedly wasn’t Cent, it definitely wasn’t Robert… It was yours truly “Chronic” Chris Page. You want to talk unremarkable, that’s precisely what this place was before I got that phone call from James Raven to see if I was even remotely interested in breathing a breath of fresh air into the lungs of this federation. I’ll be the first to tell you all right here and right now that if anyone else would have called me I would have told them to fuck off but because of the admiration I have professionally and personally for James is the only reason I obliged; sorry if I just put heat on you homie. He told me what was going on, who the fundamental players were at the time and more importantly a void needed to be filled in the 2019 War Games Main Event against Apex and that nobody could take them.

I abruptly got a taste of something I hadn’t in a while. A valid ultimatum.

So once again I’m thrust back into the top spot of this federation because the contract talent sucked and wasn’t/aren’t competent enough to put on quality programming if their fucking lives depended on it… Including Shawn Warstein. As a matter of fact, I handpicked you for my team; but not because I wanted you… Because Raven asked me to. Once again, the level of appreciation personally and professional for that Canadian fuck got him another solid because God only knows how many times, he’s done me one as well. In this business, it’s give and take when you’re in a position of power because I called Raven many times for a bail out and am not ashamed to admit it.

And yes, while my team failed disastrously, and we were conquered by Apex that night I subjugated HALF of Apex by myself; Drew Archyle and James Raven before falling victim to the ONE guy that everyone falls victim to… Robert Main.

Not a bad in-ring return if I do say so myself… and that was after taking several years off.

From there Robert and I continued to set the Main Event scene on fire for the first time in years people were invested in the story that was being told until the XWF does what the XWF does and fuck up any good thing they’ve got going for them… They offered to let me in the Leap of Faith Main Event following Soldiers cash in; naturally I told them to fuck off and instead I started a war with Shane

that single-handedly overshadowed not only the Universal Title scene that was reduced to Robbie Bourbon as viable contender but it eclipsed anything anyone of you pencil dick mother fuckers had going on at the time.

But I suck, right?

I’m over promoted, right?

It was during this conflict with Shane that Robert Main and I finally came together. You see, and this where most of you fuck yourself time after time after time when it comes to the relationship that Robert and I share. Robert was in the hospital following the shit show that unfolded with Soldier. Do you know how many of you marks bothered to pick up a phone or stop by to check up on him after he broke his fucking back carrying ALL of the dead weight that is ninety-eight percent of you that occupy the roster… Or how about you, the ones that call yourselves “friends” …. Big ole goose egg… James Raven nowhere to be seen… Centurion disappeared, and Drew just flat out left. Who was there? That’s right…

ME.

And the fucked-up thing, I’d done for any of you if you had just come off a position in a company where you carried it for as long as he did. That’s what I call… Respect. I know the word respect doesn’t exist among our current generation but with guys like me who actually paid dues, that word carries a lot a fucking weight. I did what none of you bothered to do. I opened his eyes to the unmitigated truth. Robert’s arch rival for so many months before had just become the only man in this shit federation he could trust. So, if you boast and brag about “seeing it coming” … Good job because if you hadn’t seen how it was being dangled right there in front of your fucking faces. I’d be more inclined to question your level of intelligence.

See I knew that with how the company just treated the hottest piece of business for their top title it not only insulted me, it insulted Rob too. All I had to do was explain it to him, no sugar coating. Theo and Vinnie fucked us. They used us to get the engines going again in a place that was dead as a door nail… Just when we had just got to a fever pitch, they threw us away like pieces of fucking garbage. There’s no denying it and with those eyes wide open the tailspin to the dark side began. When Robert and I first linked up even he’ll admit he probably thought I was going to stab him in the back, I would, but the rest of you called for it as well… The timing was immaculate to… Steel Cage surrounding us as we stood opposite Shane

and THE Tristan Slater… Ah, memories.

Next was Salt and Pepper.

Next was The Sick Cunts.

Next was VVomen

Next was Chaos and Carnes.

Next was a shitload of you at War Games.

I’m probably forgetting someone somewhere, but you see the point, right? With each win we continue to grow stronger and along this ride I freed Robert Main from the chains of kissing babies and showed him a world of being a heartless monstrosity that he’s become. Yeah, that’s me. For all of you unambitious ignorant pieces of shit that still run around thinking that Robert’s the maestro behind this madness, you need to open your own eyes and do your fucking homework because having to constantly remind you of the facts and details has become uninteresting and you should utterly be ashamed of yourselves. Even as late as War Games guys like Centurion; you know, that former Hart Champion that was having fun running over nobodies while trying to breaking a record that isn’t worth bragging about, he runs around wondering what happened to Robert when we’ve already told you! You’re supposed to be a veteran Cent, and yet you continue to make armature moves while making yourself look, bush league. Rob and I know the fact that we’re a cohesive unit that strikes horror into those feeble hearts and souls of each and every one of you. Apart we’re precarious enough, collectively we’re un-fucking-stoppable… That’s a fact… And it’s a bitter pill that regardless of how much you don’t want to swallow it eventually you’re not going to have a choice. So, when we hear you all spouting out whatever nonsense sounds cool in your heads that’s nowhere near the canvass, we’ve painted our portraits on.

I could continue to point out the finer details with Robert… But let’s talk more about me, specifically.

Robert can be heard off-camera for a moment.

” DICK!”

I’m forty-seven years old.

I’ve openly admitted more times than I care to count that I’m nowhere near what I once was but even at my shoddiest I’m still hands down head and shoulders above than Shawn Warstein and ninety-eight percent of you on your best day and my worst day. I get a chuckle when you feeble-minded sheep drink from that well and assume that just because I’m older doesn’t mean that when I take center stage I fucking perform. I cater to whatever garbage stipulation is thrown at me and make chicken salad out of chicken shit on a nightly basis regardless if it’s Peter Gilmour or Robert Main and all points in between. You who casts stones look yourself in the mirror and say the same thing? Nah… I didn’t think so. At forty-seven years old I’m going to do the one thing that has eluded me and I’m going to do it at the expense of a man that I have zero love loss for because now is the time and this is the place for me to silence the critics once and for all and leave absolutely no shadow of a doubt exactly just who the fuck I am… and then what do you say? What you should be asking yourselves is how is this old man way up here at the top of the mountain looking down at most of you.

War Games shuts down the whole I’m washed up or I’m a nobody or I suck, that's what most of you harp on a daily. As if my actions didn’t speak loud enough let’s back them with facts. The War Games event had twenty-six competitors and all you had to do was keep your head above water. Put forth a little fight and show some grit as I did… And as the heard thinned I was left standing after damn near all of you so what’s that say about your talent and your ability? How’s that glass house? How’s eating crow you sorry fuckers. If War Games isn’t enough, or maybe hearty enough because remember now our first match against Team

was a pushover, that’s always the excuse isn’t it? It’s not our fault that we played you all to perfection the moment Shane and Robert were the last two standing. That’s called playing a psychological game on a level that a majority of you couldn’t comprehend even if you really, really tried…. It’s okay Shawn.

My point is straightforward in case you’re still scratching your heads.

Wrestling is about the physical game; sure… The mental game is where the wars are won.

It’s chess, my friends… Not checkers… and this game of chess with you Shawn I’ve been playing for quite some time as I’ve waited patiently for the right time to pounce on your fucking parade… Now is that time and Savage is going to be the place. No one is more than you are guilty of saturating the masses with whatever spin you’re trying to sell to us now. Now here’s the beautiful thing about this piece of business and the piece of the puzzle that’s going to leave your jaws on the floor as promised. None of you has heard my story like I’ve just told it… and Shawn can’t counter it because he’s already spoken on it and much as I said before… when he does, he's exposed himself for everything that I claim him to be.

Words from the Stoned One

[Image: Chris-Jericho-1072256.jpg?r=1547510866054]

”The discomposure that’s exuding from you pours is an intoxicating scent that I’m going to devour once we take center stage on Savage, and you have every fucking right to be uneasy because you can’t afford another misadventure especially to someone as lowly as myself, at least according to the XWF talent. You’re in a MUST win situation only to realize that you’re bringing a knife to a gunfight. This will mark the first time in ten years that you and I are going to stand across that XWF ring and do battle like only we can… Only this time the story has a different ending, it concludes with me standing over your assaulted body taking away what little confidence you’ve got left in the tank.” Chris chuckles under his breath before he continues. ”Don’t let War Games fool you either little boy, while you pinned me you did after I sacrificed myself for the greater good of my team and not because you’re one step ahead of me. As a matter of fact, I take a lot of pride in being the guy to take away the one thing you crave the most… A victory over Robert Main.”

Chris pauses briefly.

”As you lined Robert up in your sights, I saw those eyes getting big because you seriously thought that you were about to satisfy that craving until I swooped in and took it away from you. How glorious that was to snatch that validation from you when nobody else could. Sure, I took an “L”, but it was for a greater good that lead to Team Cataclysm standing tall like we always do. What I am going to enjoy more than anything else about this affair is you’re not going to have an excuse for your failure, there’s not an “out” for you other than admitting you’re in the inferior man in this entire scenario.”

A cocky smirk graces Chris’s face before he continues.

”Robert might not feel like he’s got anything to prove… But I do… and while I could effortlessly take that title you prop yourself up with this isn’t about the Universal Title… Oh no… This is about authenticating my dominance over you while making you my bitch in the process, and you’ve got only yourself to thank. You’ve made every move I knew you would and anticipated you to make. The only thing I didn’t assume was you expecting me to bring you a title that isn’t worth the tissue I wipe my ass with! You’re about to step into my world, the world of Professional Wrestling and unlike Bad Medicine, from years past that was skewed your way. I don’t have to worry about syringes filled with God only knows what injected into my veins like I’m trying to shoot up heroin; that’s your way of doing things, now you’re going to have to do what NOBODY can do… Out wrestle me.” There’s an audible sigh from Chris before he continues. ” You’re the one with your back against the wall, you’re the one with everything to prove while I’m the one walking into this with absolutely nothing to leave behind and everything to gain. I’ve done all of this purposely, there are always those that think I don’t deserve a Universal Title opportunity, and this will be my appropriate moment to prove them wrong. Beating you for the sake of hammering you will go a long way in silencing all the critics once and for all… and then I’ll consider making you relevant for just a brief second before taking away that title of yours on my terms, not yours Shawn.”

”The days of you living in that delusional fantasy world in which you control the narrative has come and gone. You thought it’d be cool to try and play games with the master and now it’s going to come back to haunt you. What happens next for you following this defeat? How do you spin being out wrestled by a forty-seven-year-old man? The idiot-proof answer, you don’t. I’ve taken all the bullets out of your gun because as I stated before the last thing you are is original when it comes to me. You’re just as much a broken record as everyone else, now we play this my way. I’m the prototypical professional wrestler you could never become. I’m a cut above every wrestler alive today and when we take center stage at Madison Square Garden, I’m going to prove it yet again. Only this time it’s going to be at your expense.” Chris finally stands up with the brick wall behind him. He turns sideways as he places his left hand on the wall while looking towards the camera. ” This brick wall is symbolic Shawn, when you see a brick wall from this point forward it’s going to constantly remind you of one man, Chris Page. The sands in your hourglass have run out and the only thing left to do is pull the plug on what’s left of your wasted career. Bright lights! Big City! Twitter won’t save your ass on Savage. So, go ahead and get your scapegoat ready, chump, because the guy YOU say can't beat you is about to… You’ll need it.”

Chris winks at the camera as the scene slowly fades to black.

[Image: NINTCHDBPICT000519720209.jpg]

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