Continued from: Redemption- Chapter Three http://xwf99.com/showthread.php?tid=41639

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” YESSSSSSSS!!!”


The Good Doctor screams back at Chris Page who is tucked in his bed as he pulls the sheets up over his head. The Good Doctor steps out of the bathroom door way starts walking towards the bedside of CCP.


”You don’t need to hide because I am not here to hurt you. On the contrary, I am here to help you.”


” This isn’t real.”


Chris mutters from underneath the covers which is followed by him repeating to himself.


” Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up.”


The Good Doctor rolls his eyes as he reaches the bedside where he yanks the covers from off of Page’s head and body.


” You are up my good man. This isn’t a dream, it isn’t a nightmare, it is as real as real can get.”


The Good Doctor reaches over and pinches Chris’s left cheek causing him to swat his hand away from his face as he spouts out.


” Why are you hear?”


” What do you mean why am I here? Aren’t you the guy that seems to think that traveling through time and dimensions is a fraud? I am here to not only tell you it does exist, but I can show you.”


Now this is something that I can get on board with. Finally someone with some proof that Time Travel very well does exist. It is a slippery slope between fiction and nonfiction to say the very least.[/i]


” Wait… if this is real then that means Doc Brown, Christopher Lloyd, Jesse Ventura was all a dream?”


” Was it though?”


Chris lets out a deep sigh before he responds.


” Don’t answer a question with a question- that shit’s annoying.”


It’s almost as annoying as not having my property slung over my shoulder; yet that problem shall resolve itself in very short order as the time continues to tick down to Saturday Night Savage. This is the moment in which I have been waiting for and now is my time to take my rightful spot back on top of the XWF; or so it should be. If history has shown us anything it has shown us that Robert Main is going to pop his head up in some form or fashion to fuck me out of yet another victory.


That seems to be the status quo if there ever was one. Why should this be any different?


” I am sorry you feel that way.”


The Good Doctor steps away from Page’s bedside as he continues.


” But if you want me to show you a world that you never knew existed now would be the time. The question becomes; do you want answers?”


” Does a bear shit in the woods?”


There’s a sly smirk that graces the Good Doctor’s face as he states.


” Then there is only one thing left to do.”


” What’s that?”


” Get the fuck out of bed and get dressed. We are off on an adventure.”


The Good Doctor states with glee as he walks back over to the bathroom door frame while Chris is shown reluctantly getting out of bed. He heads over to his dresser where he opens up a middle drawer pulling out a pair of white gym shorts he slides on and a white t-shirt.[/green]


” I can’t believe I am doing this.”


[i]He puts on some slides before walking towards his bathroom. As he enters the bathroom he’s immediately take aback as he is looking at not his bathroom-





” This isn’t my bathroom.”


Chris’s voice echoes as he looks over at this weird machine that sits in darkness with white thick smog hoovering above the ground. The solid light on top of the contraption illutminates enough for Chris to read the name place above the door.


” Police call Box?”


Which is quickly followed up with.


” COPS!


Chris turns to run back through what once was the door way that leads back into his bedroom only to run back into a brick fucking wall! He staggers backward clutching at his head before stating with sheer frustration within his voice.


” The fourth goddamn wall today!!”


He slowly turns around where he is forced to look at the oversized call box. The doors open where a bright light exudes out.









[white]Okay pause.


We pause on the Good Doctor extending his arm out asking Chris to come with him.


This is one of those wtf moments if there ever was one. How the hell did I get to this point where I have no choice but to step inside some sort of call box with a strange dude that makes me want to slap the taste out of his mouth. Surely this is a dream. It has to be because there’s no way that I am foolish enough to follow him.


Mother fucker doesn’t even have candy. Pfft.


Okay, play.


Chris takes a deep breath before reluctantly walking towards the call box as the Good Doctor’s hand is still extended out.


” I still can’t believe this is a thing.”


” You wanted proof, right?”


” Yeah…”


” Come with me.”


Chris directs his attention towards the extended arm from the Good Doctor before reluctantly he reaches out taking his hand and stepping up inside the call box where the door closes behind him. The look of shock of the massive inside structure is to much for Chris to try and take in before he mutters out.


” What the fuck is all of this??”


” This my friend is what I like to call the Tardis; and this little baby can take us anywhere in the world at any point of time. With great power comes great responsibility.”


” Alright, I know I’m stoned… but stop ribbing me man. It’s way to early in the morning for all of this. I need my alarm to go off so I can…”


The Good Doctor finishes Chris’s sentence.


” Wake up?


The Good Doctor makes his way over to the center of this massive chamber.








” Mr. Page I am about to show you that not only can we travel through time but I am also going to show you that we can travel through dimensions. There is such a thing called the time/space continuum.”


” Oh yeah, is that right? And how do you expect to do that?”


The Good Doctor shifts his head towards Chris, and with a smile on his face.


” Hold on.”









” Where the hell are you taking me?”


” One of many stops in order to make you a believer, to make you believe in something that is more than real or fantasy. The first stop on your trip is a place in which everyone knows your name…



























... TO BE CONTINUED IN...

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Words from the Stoned One:





Welcome back ladies and gentlemen as we continue on the path of enlightenment as I forge on with the verbal slaying that is Alias. We talked about him taking the bitch approach to taking away my Championship and how that is not in the picture for him anymore- let’s now move on and talk about this grea... grea… fuck it, I can’t use that word and his name in the same goddamn sentence with him failing the fill the shoes I left behind. You’ve appeared on three shows over the last two months with two successful defenses over a couple of doormats named Chaos and Atara Themis- both of which were beaten before the mother fucking bell rang. You have taken the adage of every Champion that’s name is not Chris Page or Thaddeus Duke by showing up when you have to versus showing up and proving why you are supposed to be the cream of the crop. It seems to be a trend with you if you go back and look at your Xtreme Title days. A match here, a match there but nothing really consistent. That doesn’t make you a champion, that makes you a placeholder, and in this specific instance, you are the placeholder for Chris Page. I know that’s a bitter pill for you to swallow, but as you have already shown me in your first several outings just how easy you are going to make this for me. Sometimes it’s best if you just stop fucking talking instread of putting more bullets in that shotgun that is going to blow your head off.


I am the guy that carefully laid out and executed the demise of Robert Main. The single biggest poster boy within the XWF rocked to his knees within my wake and left as an insecure chump whose credibility dissipated faster than a fart in the wind. I am the guy that ENDED the unstoppable run of Thaddeus Duke clean and clear in the middle of the ring when some say he was at his peak, I am the guy that along with Miss Fury, Thunder Knuckles, Bobby Bourbon, Andre Dixon, and Big Money Oswald have redefined the word dominance within a single federation, and I am the guy that does not ever walk into a situation without being three steps ahead of everyone else; Alias included. I say all that to say this game is equally as mental as it is physical; a fact that some of you fail to comprehend. Over the last two years, I have shown you all just how patient I can be in order to get the outcome I want. I allowed the masses to look at me like a second-rate Robert Main all the while playing you all every step of the fucking way much like I have allowed you to hold on to MY title for as long as I have. I am cerebral and methodical with my actions, I use my head over my heart and play a better fucking game of chess than most of you will ever be able to rationalize. This is the man that you are about to tangle with, Alias. If you think for one second that I have not mapped out this entire encounter from the moment that referee’s hand hit the mat at Leap of Faith and crowned you the Universal Champion you’re about as sadly mistaken as those that CONTINUE to harp that I am the leader of BOB. The visions running through my head with what I am going to do to you is enough to make you rue the fucking day you ever thought that YOU are anywhere close to my level. That left hand is already charred to a crip, all more the fitting for me to go and cut that mother fucker off before cramming it down your own goddamn throat.


I can’t begin to describe just how much hearing your screams, looking at the fear in your eyes before crushing your spirits on national television means to me. It’s like a renewed sense of purpose when it comes to rewriting history while taking my rightful place back on the top of the mountain while you fall back off the radar wasting your time with failed factions or some chode named Balph; not even you could get that over, lesson learned I hope. I have no doubts that the foregone conclusion is me leaving with MY Championship once again around the rocking waist of this dad bod- the question that I am left asking myself is just how much effort are you prepared to put into order to TRY and keep it? For someone that claims he doesn’t care about this or that actions speak otherwise when you are standing in the same squared circle as the GOAT that is “Chronic” Chris Page. I just hope for your sake you aren’t as predictable as I feel you are going to be, and whatever you do for fuck sakes do not squander your opportunity at proving that you fucking belong or you will become just another casualty alongside Robert Main, Demos, R.L. Edgar in the regards that your star fizzle out after I have laid waste to you verbally before stomping you out physically.


This is not about BOB.


It’s not about anything other than establishing just WHO the better man truly is within this equation between you and me.


It would be easy to sit back and take shots at your overall appearance, it would be super simple to beat your lack of ability into the ground like a dead horse; you are going to do that for me. I am going to take all the pleasure in knowing that while you may pick and choose what you care about, the locker room has a stake in this that you might not even be paying attention to. The last thing ANYONE wants to see is me running a rough shot over every person that steps in my path. The locker room is begging and pleading for you to do the near-impossible- beat me again, and beat me without six other people doing the dirty work for you.


Personally, I don’t think you can.


Professionally, I know you can’t.


How does it feel knowing that the sands in your hourglass of relevancy are starting to run out? How will you be able to cope with not only letting yourself down… but letting down all the pricks behind that curtain that look at you as some sort of savior? How will you look Corey in the face after his tongue has come out of your asshole and not be able to give him the only gift he has going for himself with his briefcase? Let me guess, you don’t care. You better find something to care about real goddamn quick or YOU will be the one beaten before the bell rings. I am as confident as I have ever been for any match I have ever been involved in when I see you standing across the ring from me. I am next-level talent that is capable of doing next-level shit. You are already in the palm of my goddamn hand and do not even realize it. Each move you’ve made, every thought you’ve had has all been placed there by me when it comes to this situation. I am playing this better than you might want to give me credit for from how I elected to use my rematch to even the timing of it all. Beating you and taking back MY title cements me in that Relentless Main Event belongs to Chris Page.


That’s my prize in this- the Universal Title is a given.


Not only beating you but snuffing out everything you stand for in the process, leaving absolutely no room for error that WITHOUT Ape-Leg doing the job for you that there’s no doubt you would have been doing the job without them. My redemption comes by silencing you when it matters as it does here and now. I have learned that shit fucking happens- I mean I did lose with an Inside Cradle immediately following the travesty of your cash-in. I bounced back with a win over fellow Hall Of Legends piece of talent that is Centurion- and yes, not worth writing home to mom about but his legacy within the business, as tainted as it is. In order to shift the narrative completely, you must fall and fall you shall like so many others before you and many, many more to come after you. Slapping you around while stamping my ticket to the Main Event slot of Relentless is truly going to be a treat for me because when I hold MY Championship up in the air for all to see, once I cement myself as YOUR Relentless Main Event it will serve as the single biggest fuck you to all of the haters, all of the #fuckbob coattail riders, and to everyone that wishes they were me. Alias you are my muse, my whore within this match because I am going to use and abuse you with every calculated step we take… and then the bell is going to ring… the talk is going to end and only one of us will live up to the hype. That guy is going to be yours fucking truly because that’s what the hell I do dating back to early 2019. A lot of eyes are locked on this encounter, the stakes have never been higher and I would be hard-pressed for there to be a BIGGER championship match than what lays before us come Saturday Night Savage. The irresistible force meets the immovable object with the bragging rights of something worth fighting for. I am licking my chops with the mere thought of making you my bitch. I’m going to fuck you so hard it’s going to make Corey Smith jealous; oh wait, that’s already a thing.


What you should all be asking yourselves at this point is what happens next? What happens when I am standing back on top of the mountain securing my second Universal Title in the process. There’s only ONE more case in the mix, and if that son of a bitch wants to cash it in he will be met with the exact same fate that is going to be dealt with Alias; you might secure the Championship… BUT I will take it back. It’s one thing to exercise your right on your terms, it’s something totally different to beat me on mine. What you are all going to bear witness to is how when something is taken from you, you take it back just like I am going to do the moment that closing bell tolls. The mystique of Alias is going to come to an end. The selfish nature that infects his soul is going to expose itself for all to see. Say whatever the fuck you want about me; call me an egotistical maniac, call me a prick, call me an asshole because all of those monikers fit the bill; at least you know what you’re getting when you get it, unlike Alias who hasn’t been there for Betsy when she’s been jumped on. Wasn’t there for Corey heading into War Games, and now that I think about it… Alias is only out for Alias. Not a far cry from what the masses choose to believe when it comes to yours truly, and at least I don’t put up a front about the people I give a fuck about when it comes to BOB. You are walking into a no-win situation regardless of how you choose to slice this humble pie that is going to be served to you live and in living color. I talk that fucking talk but I also walk that goddamn walk better than anyone in the game today, and this instance is not going to be any different. I am going to outwrestle you, I am going to outfight you, simply put I am going to outdo you on every front you can imagine for you have committed the cardinal sin of remotely thinking that you can hold my fucking jock; hell you’d probably throw it over your face and wear it like a fucking mask stroking your dong because I am giving you the time of day. I assure you it will be the only gratification that you get from any of this for playtime is over. Only the strong survive my man, and there isn’t anyone stronger, more battle-tested than the man that stands before you today. This ONE defense will make or break you, this ONE chance encounter will validate you or invalidate you on so many levels and so many fronts it bears comprehension. I hope that you’ve enjoyed the little tastes of success that come with being the Universal Champion for the time sitting at my table is coming to an abrupt end… and if you twat waffles thought I was a son of a bitch before just you wait because I promise that none of you have seen a fucking thing yet. The King is taking back his throne come Saturday Night Savage and I dare anyone to try and goddamn stop me. I say that because never has it been more evident after the miscarraige of justice on Warfare that it is safe to assume an appearance from one Robert Main is probably on the horizons. You know, one of those spot appearances that allows him to show his face and cost people their matches without having to fucking wrestle. You all know the guy, Alias patented himself after him when it comes to his fucking work ethic. I’ve laid out your challenge for Relentless. Now, the way I see it if you do elect to rear that ugly fucking mug of yours you have a choice to make. Will you swallow your pride and put your ego in check to screw me out of another match? Or do you try your hand at redemption when it comes to the Universal Championship? After all I did make you look like a scrub back at Leap of Faith. Or will you keep your nose out of my business and give me the goddamn common curtesy of showing this chode Alias that he isn’t about shit? I am leaning towards the latter. Alias, I am gunning for you, so by all means keep playing Pokemon like a fucking child.

- HALL OF LEGENDS 2019
- 2019 Heel of the Year
- 2019 Locker Room Leader of the Year
- 2019 Feud of the Year w. Robert Main (you’re welcome)
- Former


With Robert "The Omega" Main

XWF World Heavyweight Champion