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Once upon a time, two days hence from the epic battle that was War Games...



---AUGUST 3, 2021---
XWF Mobile HQ, 24/7 Halls
9:48 PM



A drone whirrrrrrrrs through the labyrinthine 24/7 halls of the XWF Mobile Headquarters. Essentially- well, specifically -the structure is a colossal and legit honest to God working Technodrome, like, from 1980s TMNT (including that protruding fork looking thingy on the outer shell of the 'Drome that shoots lasers or someshit). Vinnie named it the X-nodrome and it's top secret- which is why we've only ever seen the halls themselves -so shuddupuh-you-mouth about it and nevermind the plot hole about secrets not being secrets if they're revealed in a promo. Or..or how anyone gets in and outta there or how the X-nodrome itself gets from here to there and is top secret if it's a skyscraper-sized death star on tank treads, fuck you.


......Let's not fight, k? Anyway...


The drone hovers past a napping and freshly crowned at War Games Xtreme Champ Corey Smith.


Off the nearest intersecting hall we see TK slowly and quietly approaching an unsuspecting Dolly Waters who appears to be smoking a ciggy near a dumpster.


Down yet another hall...


What exactly are you asking me to do, Jimmy?


Send me back baby, back to like moments before Dolly got me in round one of War Games...and make sure I remember what happens so I can avoid it this time and win that fuckin' match.


Babe...I told you before, Chronomagick is too chaotic to control. Every attempt at the Time Spell leads to some sort of catastrophe.


Jim runs his hand through her hair, palming the back of her head and pulling her in closer for a kiss. He brushes her hair aside and slides over to her neck, kissing it tenderly.


Gasping. I know...what you're trying...to do. ...But please...don't...stop... Exhaling as her knees begin to weaken.


Draws back suddenly, Arcana stumbles slightly forward. I'm sorry?


Staring daggers. You know I can magick that dick you're so proud of into a micropenis, right?


Cocky, appropriately. Hey, you wanna deprive your vagina 'a this wicked wang, be my guest.


::POOF::


Jim's face blanches in shock, his eyes widen. Peeking down into his shorts, then back to Arcana. Really?


::POOF::


Relief. Jesus junk crushin' Christ, baby, don't ever do that again. No wonder Page is such a sunuvabitch...if I had to go through life with the Monopoly thimble for a cock I'd be non-stop pissed too and damn sure slappin' on some makeup myself, seein' as I'd be moreso a woman than a man. Like HE is I mean. Anyway...baby, PLEASE cast the spell. Please. I want that War Games win.


Arcana gazes deep into his icy blues... ::sigh:: Oh alright...


Ecstatic. NICE!! THANK YOU baby!! Now cmon, let's creampie that ol' space time continuum!


Sighing again, a vague look of worry washing over her face, Arcana begins waving her arms in an elaborate display, a light beginning to trail from her fingertips. Pausing one hand and circling the other with a counter-clockwise motion...

















The simple display suddenly evolves.













Pouring her energy into the fledgling portal, it gains in complexity and power taking final form.









Jim stares in awe, illuminated by the rings of Chronomagick. Baby you're fuckin' amazing... Jim takes a deep breath and strolls into the portal, vanishing from the timeline...


Moments later, he strolls up behind Arcana. Well goddammit, THAT didn't work. Somehow I forgot what was gonna happen and it happened again.


That happens. I told you hun, Chronomagick is highly unstable, too chaotic to control yet ironically at the same time stubborn and more or less set as is.


TK's voice cuts in from the nearest intersecting hall. What up, Dolly? A scuffle is heard as he rolls her up for a pin. Gotcha bitch!


Seeing the silver lining. Well, at least TK has no excuse for pinning Dolly for the X and is still gonna be seen as a fuckin' ... C'mon baby...


As the couple take their leave, they fail to notice an apparent tear in the space time continuum left behind...





As the rings of Chronomagick energy blast outward, shit starts hitting the fan over the course of the night and following weeks:


-A pocket of time, dated February 2021, expands and X Champ Alias appears in place of Dolly during TK's still massive fuck up of a pin. Not only that, for a short period all in the XWF is as it was in February before reverting back.


-Multiple Dollys preceding, during and following War Games blink into our timeline before phasing back into proper place.


-Hotdog materializes, an interloper in our universe.


-The Inexplicable Super Baby, attracted by the magick, makes an appearance and saves us all from this malevolent porcine beast and it's evil plans before returning to the Isle of Buyan and it's point of origin.


-So near the source of the tear, the 24/7 Halls themselves become a conjunction point for the multiverse; Atara Themis appearing as Misty, noir and a pomeranian, Banana Hand attacking and all with thematically accurate versions of Jim to kick out.


Some other lame shit happens too with Chris Page and Doc Brown, adding to the problem and giving the tear further momentum.


Thanks Page.


Everyone thank Chris Page for making it worse, that goddamn extra exacerbating buttfucker.


Anyway, as time goes on...



---SEPTEMBER 17, 2021---
XWF Mobile HQ (X-nodrome), 24/7 Halls



Wandering through the hallways with Arcana immediately following Bossman Lane's pin...


I told you Jimmy, that was a bad idea. Notice the happenings taking place around us, every bizarre pin, every mysterious event...it's all because of that damn spell and that Stop-'o-Clock Spell on Vinnie's pin just made matters worse. We need to locate what I'm sure is a tear in the fabric of space and time and I need to at least try to seal it. This could take awhile to locate.


Found it.





...Uh...yeah that'd be it. Alright babe, give me some room here while I-


But her request is cut short as Jim and Arcana vanish within a wave of energy burped out from the tear.







Tumbling through the portal of time and space-


This must be what it's like for semen shootin' through the shaft and out to freedom: usually the face 'a Dolly Waters. Anyway, AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!


-Jim's terrified bellow echoing infinitely around them (Arcana more or less unimpressed by it all) as they "fall" for quite some time, eventually spying the end to this jarring journey as it zooms "up" to greet them.


They disappear into the curiously devoid of color exit portal-







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---CHICAGO---
Earth-00ρ𞤥



An overweight balding man in immaculate and expensive dress clothes lies back comfortably in what looks to be a barber's chair, hot towel covering his face, softening the skin for a shave. An attendant shines his shoes, another takes an emery board to his fingernails.


Surrounding this man we see three reporters standing and staring silently, all eyes on the man in the chair.


Clearly this is a powerful man and in his world, everyone waits for his cue.


The barber removes the hot towel, revealing a face more effeminate than may have been expected.


A reporter finally speaks. An article in a local publication pointed the question that since you are in fact- or that it seems you are in fact -the mayor of Chicago, the Governor of Illinois, the owner of 99% of all businesses therein and the coolest motherfucker in the country, why you've simply not been appointed God-King of the entire world, or at the very LEAST the President of these United States?


Chuckling arises from those in attendance, the powerful effeminate man smiles and delivers, with a southern drawl-









I _am_ the coolest mutherfucker in 'Merica, it's true. Tell me again how amazing I am or I'll have y'all clipped right here in front of me.


The reporter drops to his knees. You are INFINITELY AMAZING my Lord. Next to you, we're all hot garbage.


Yeah you are...yeah...yeah I like that. Hey, are you mad at me?


The reporter cocks an eyebrow in confusion. I'm...not sure I understa-


I just feel like you're mad at me. Ya know, there used to be this real prick, some G-man named Eliot, he was mad at me. He would go on and on about how I should be arrested and whatnot. "Put that jerk in jail," he'd say. He didn't appreciate what I've done for the people; buying up all the land, robbing them of their lives, their jobs, all for my own benefit so that I might take CARE of the people. How? Don't ask ME, but...what an asshole that guy was, am I right? Everyone nervously acknowledges with a unified yes. I had that man killed for what he said. What am I doing over here? I'm simply responding to the will of the people.







Whipping a cup full of shaving cream with a brush applicator, the barber carefully applies the cream to the effeminate man's cheeks, chin and upper lip, setting the cup of cream aside upon completion to retrieve a straight razor.


Another reporter speaks up. What about the rep you have for controlling everything through violence? That people who don't validate you or bend to your will are dealt with violently and a whole lot of drunken spazzing out?


The effeminate man turns to address the reporter just as the barber touches the straight razor to his cheek, the movement causing a thin slice immediately drawing blood.


The effeminate man instantly pulls a pistol and drills one into the barber's forehead, showering the wall behind him with his brains before his body drops lifeless. The effeminate man slides the pistol back into his pants pocket and turns to the questioning reporter who at this very moment is pissing HIS pants. In fact, all three reporters and both remaining attendants are now wetting the floor down. Hell, even the barber is leaking, and I don't mean the blood pooling around his head funnel, I mean the voided bowels post mortem.


I grew up in Pikeville, Kentucky, and we used to say, "You can get further with false flattery and a handjob than you can with just false flattery." I'm not sure what that has to do with your question though. Let me say this, yaaaaaas there's violence here in Chicago but it isn't perpetrated by me or by anyone I employ, ain't that right Chuck?


Frank Nitti Chuck Shitti, the effeminate man's number one assassin most submissive bitch, pauses his chopping up of the barber's body in full view of the reporters and replies, SURPRISE!! Oh I mean, right. No violence whatsoever boss. Chops the barber's head off.


The shoe shine vomits.


Good answer. Dolly "Gal Capone" Waters isn't a violent person. It's bad for business. Now someone reassure me that I'm doing a good job here or you're all dead. I'm sorry, that was rude of me. REASSURE ME NOW!! Nah I'm just joking. ...Shit......y'all mad at me?



---Elsewhere---



Jim opens his eyes, blinking and rubbing away the sleep as a pair of white curtains blow gently in the breeze from the window. Yawning, stretching, he slowly sits up to find himself lying on a bed fully clothed. His clothing, the drab white collar shirt and black tie of a civil servant/stiff complete with black slacks. His dress shoes, black and recently shined, are already tied tightly to his feet.


He glances around the room, it's cozy and lived in. Looks like it's been someone's home for years in fact.


He glances out the window. A neighborhood. Model Ts.


Theeeeeee fuck? The hell am I?


Sweeeeetheaaaaaart, your lunch is readyyyyyy.


That voice...it's so familiar...


Jim rises from the bed and exits the bedroom, poking around the house as he finds his way to the kitchen where-


-Arcana, dressed in not at all flattering old school respectable wifey clothing, sets a paper bag lunch down onto the dining table and smiles...as a vague look of recognition crosses her face.


Lighting strikes, Jim's memory floods back.


ARCANA!!


His spastic outburst seems to jar Arcana free from the fog.


Ji- Jimmy? ...JIMMY!


Huge grin and embrace. Baby! Holy fuck what the hell is goin' on here?? Where are we?? And why the shit is everything in black and white??


The time portal, remember?


Oooooh yeeeeeeeeah. Duh. The fuck? S'wrong with my memory? I woke up not knowin' shit and I'm still havin' some difficulty rememberin'.


I'm not sure babe, let me consult my Magic 8-ball.


Taken aback. WHOOOOA, is that attitude entirely necessary?


With a flick of her wrist, a magic 8-ball appears in her open palm. What attitude hun?


Somehow blushing while in black and white. My bad. Carry on.


Arcana shakes the legit _Magick_ 8-Ball then peers down into the viewing window... It says we're on Earth-00ρ𞤥. I think we may have gone sideways in time Jimmy.


Sideways in time? Fucks that mean?


It means we're in an alternate universe. And these bodies we're in...we've merged with our counterparts here in this universe on this Earth.


Izzat why I have memories I can't remember experiencing and my own personal memories from our own timeline and universe are kinda hazy?


Astonished. Yes... that's...exactly right. ...How did you- ?


Just tryna get through the exposition swiftly baby, exposition suuuuuuucks it's so fuckin' boring. So...how the fuck do we get back to our own universe?


Shakes the Magick 8-Ball again. Hmmmm...it says we need to put right what once went wrong in this life. Once we have, we'll get pulled out.


SWEET! It's like Quantum Leap!


Quantum what now?


Oh you fuckin' kids with your Adderall and your punkass mumble rap. ...Damn you all to hell.


Eat it old-head.


Daddy. Eat it _daddy_. They used to call me "Big Dick Daddy" y'know. Back when Graves and Cady and I were pals. I'm pretty sure they were makin' fun 'a me but I didn't care, I loved those assholes. And I mean their _actual_ assholes, I would regularly ream Cady's out sum'in fierce. ::sigh:: The good ol' days. Anyway- Did he just wipe a tear? -what wrong are we supposed to right?


Another shake of the 8-Ball. We need to thwart the evil of..."Gal Capone"?


Oh shit, a chick or perhaps trans version of Al Capone? How aptly 2021. And how exactly are we to do this? ...May I- KILL this "Gal Capone"?


Another shake. Sadly no, the end of her life- uh, his life...uh-


Cuts in to raise the roof. 2021 beeeeeeeetch! Watch dem pronouns!


Rolls her eyes and continues. Gal Capone dies from-


Syphilis?


AIDS.


Lulz.


So no, you can't kill Gal Capone. What you have to do is get it arrested, convicted and sentenced to prison.


K, on what charge? The tax evasion shit, like, again, our universe?


Another shake. This time eliciting a frown from Arcana. It says Noir requires some amount of mystery. No Spoilers.


"No spoi-" ...Piece 'a fuckin' shit. Wonderful. Ok so how the fuck we s'posed to do this then?? Who the fuck are we here anyway? You said our counterparts?


Shake shake shake. Mr. and Mrs. Ness. Awww, babe even in this universe we found eachother. We're soulmates.


Ecstatic, wide eyed. I'm ELIOT NESS here!? FAWESOME!!


No, you're Eliot's little brother, Jellyous Ness. He's a P.I.


_Jellyous_? Fuck kinda first name is Jellyous? Why can't I be Eliot?


Shakealicous. He's dead babe. Gal Capone killed him. You're supposed to avenge his death by nabbing Capone.


Eyes narrow in anger. Gaaaaal, you killed my brother? Yooou dirty twaaaat, ooooooo- What the fuck am I doin'? I'm quoting Raphael misquoting Cagney in one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle live-action films from the early 90s. That's a "kids ain't gonna get it" two-fer. WHY would I do that?


Shakesy-wakesy. It says you're a dumbass.


Smart 8-Ball. Also baffling my memory is hazy but I had THAT shit on recall. Huh. So anyway, what should I do then? Go round up the coppers and start an investigation?


Shakeitty shake. Nope. There are no more cops in Chicago it says. They've all been bought. Looks like you're going to have figure something else out, boo.


Gazing off into space for a moment. Nice, I think I just like, accessed Jellyous Ness's memories on command. And you're right, there ain't any more cops in Chicago. But I know EXACTLY who I can enlist for this. ...Wait, the fuck you mean "you're" going to have to figure something else out, boo? Ain't you gonna join in on this?


No, Mrs. Ness doesn't get involved babe. We both have our parts to play here. Plucks Jim's- er, JELLYOUS'S -paper bag lunch from the table and holds it out to him, smiling sweetly. Have a good day at the office boo! So to speak. Oh and- She poofs something into the bag, then kisses him.


Alrighty, got my shoes on, got my objective, got my bag lunch. It isn't lunch meat is it?


Egg sandwich. Hardboiled. Like I like my dicks.


Inappropriate. Well, I'm off.


Don't forget your Fedora, trenchcoat and tommygun!




TO BE CONTINUED...

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤











"Shattering the Image"











Dolly. Waters. ...In a Barbwire Deathmatch.


Oh fuckin' A.


Ain't no secret to any 'a you who were around in 2017 that Dolly and I got more ridin' on this match than simply the Xtreme Championship and the events 'a War Games. And that shit with Corey, that's just an added and loaded bonus (as far as Dolly is concerned) meant to make Dolly seem like the high and mighty hooker heroine here. Make 'er look like a veritable Dolly fuckin' Parton Spartan squirtin' for some "justice". Nah, we got sumthin' to settle here, don't let 'er steady supply 'a bullshit and latest Warfare spectacle fool you.


Dolly does love her theatrics and über-pretentiously presented tall tales.


Well fuck that southern "belle" bitch-hog's heavy honkey hijinks, she been pullin' the SAME super self-absorbed asshattery since way back when commonly referred to as "The Phenom" Dolly Waters. Now, for the benefit 'a those who paid little to no attention to anything she and I were sayin' to eachother durin' the War Games hype cycle, back before Lethal Lottery 4 Dolly was ridin' a wave 'a momentum and had no intention of allowin' that momentum to brake. So what she did was convince 'erself it was her time- not her time to shine; HER. TIME. As in everyone bend over and spread 'em -and that we were all there to make her look good and take whatever she had planned like the good little enhancement talent trash bags she believes us all to be. THEN...AND now.


And WHAT a plan.


Dolly threw on a disguise (which totally fooled the rest of us, "Clark Kent Cunt Dolly" disappearin', then here comes a teeny, essentially same shaped Supertwat) and named herself Buronan (which in Indonesian means fugitive or outlaw don'tcha know, 'cause Dolly #1. Is super edgy and cool and #2. Has to show off as often as possible just how clever, well-read and smart she is) and entered the LL 4 tournament. Over the course 'a the tourney, "Buronan" teamed with both myself and Trax (man, you kids shoulda been here for good ol' Traxxy, he was the shit. COME BACK TRAX!) and by round 3 with the two of us teaming (that'd be Trax and I) the time came for Buronan to shed the costume and reveal Dolly Waters, "surprise" entrant. Which I mean, really? C'mon. She was and still IS a teeny ass lil' girl so who else could it 'a been? Still, we all allowed the southern spastic to maintain her "amazing" mystery and "BOO!" us, with all the eyeroll of a Charlie Nickles half-ass alakazammer (round of applause for the Waters klan btw, we can thank them for all the dipshittery outta Charlie who for some reason legit idolizes those inbred bull-nut clippin' crackers), and Dolly pulled her reveal.


Of course, the reveal happened DURING the match- against Scully and Bourbs, our opponents -and amounted to Dolly with a run-in on the the opposition, makin' sure to drag my "deadass" on top of Scully for the win if memory serves. 'Cause Trax and I, we needed that. _I_ needed that to beat Team Bobby...clearly...seein' as every time he and I entered a match together since, he lost. Yes, I needed that boost from Dolly, the coward who couldn't handle enterin' the tournament on the up and up.


And what did she have to say about her little run-in?


Guess.


Go on, guess.


Fuck it, I'll tell ya. To paraphrase, Doll' basically claimed to have masterminded the tournament, setting herself up in such a manner to emerge victorious by manipulating the finals to include Trax and I (oh and Cady too but he bitched out). Because SOMEHOW, Trax and Jim Caedus would be easier to topple than Bourbon and Scully. Dolly made it clear we were all there to provide stepping stones to her ultimate greatness.


What XWF? This shit was DWF.


A
A
A
A
A
A
A
A
L
L


about Dolly.


Fuck Dolly.


Jim Caedus threw Doll' (legit) like a javelin at Trax and emerged triumphant, Mr. 24/7. So much for the mastermind and her best laid plans.


I wrung that sideshow carnie freak fuckstick out like Pikeville trailer park toilet paper- known outside the borders 'a Kentucky as washcloths and shirttails.


I can't really remember what Dolly did not long after that, I'm thinkin' retreated back up obscurity's inviting anus while I went on to capture the Universal Championship and carve my entry on the Top 50 OAT list.


Fast forward about a year to a pussy ass meltdown, rinse and repeat a year later (I wish to god they never took place) then hop two more and we arrive at current year 2021. Dolly, she's back with a vengeance and me, I'm back to clawin' my way up to the top. But that ain't all, 'cause as we've been witnessin' over the past few months, Dolly is back to 'er ol' titanic thot twat tricks now multiplied tenfold.


Unable, apparently, to grasp the fact that POPULARITY don't win a match (outside of a Freestyle vote I mean), Dolly's become legit the most prolific attention whore in modern history, edging out even Thadly with her greedy ass. And when I say greedy ass I mean in every way possible, includin' her droppin' to all fours for Continuum to pop that podunk pooper and pound those pale whitebread buttcheeks red, lil' girl's a slut to the nth degree in more ways than one. For weeks on end- like the cumshots 'a Corey and Duke -it's become IMPOSSIBLE to avoid Dolly's face as she guest stars in several people's promos, stars in segments and in-rings on the shows...and worse, now the country bumpkin bitch been awarded administrative powers over Anarchy. Not to mention, Star of the Month for August.


Yeah, _that_ didn't overinflate that ho's head to 76 Ball status.


Once again the XWF has become the DWF.


All.


About.


Dolly.


What's she done to deserve this? What, hustlin'? At what, makin' personal appearances to run that cuntry cock-pocket she calls a mouth-now-acceptin'-full-loads? She damn sure ain't runnin' towards too many wins in the ring. It sure AF ain't beatin' me at War Games, that was Bob-O AND Dolly; don't get it twisted. What, she stick that forked tongue 'a hers in your ears? Head-fuck the lot 'a you with her dildo 'a hillbilly brand false flattery and friendship? Win you over with her "poor me, pity me" puppetry?


S'ok...I know all too well just how convincin' she can be.


But believe me...


There ain't no sincerity in Dolly Waters and you all been manipulated to throw your support behind 'er. Is it any wonder shit's back to how it was with Dolly twistin' everyone else's careers and existence into servin' HER and HER glory?


Oh you don't believe me? What was it that just happened on Warfare followin' my first successful defense against LSM? Dolly made an appearance and said-

Quote:Jim. You’ve got something that I never should’ve lost...



Jim pulls his eyes down to the XTreme Championship in his hand and looks back up at Dolly,



...and it’s time for me to take it back.



Jim flings his arms open, still holding his XTreme Championship and mouthing a challenge to Dolly for right here, right now. His voice is inaudible under the chorus of the roaring crowd.



Nah.

Not yet, Jim.

When I beat you for the XTreme Championship, I want you at 100%.

I want you at yer’ best.

I want you at…



Dolly points up to a sign in the corner of the arena reading Relentless.

K, first of all, my not bein' at a hundo percent didn't stop you from takin' the X away durin' War Games, did it. Don't fuckin' act like you're so honorable and shit with that 100% crap.


Second: Corey, Alias, Dolly just said you two ain't shit compared to her. You gonna take that? You gonna keep treatin' this tart with respect?


And third-


l-o-l. S'cuse me while I shit my pants.


Dolly,


K
I
L
L

Y
O
U
R
S
E
L
F


you cliché cock-knockin' cumdumpster.


I love how I was left powerless WITHOUT a mic to respond by the way, as if no one at ringside could deliver one (if that ain't proof for you all that any 'a you, even ALIAS, would be pigeonholed into ancillary hell in context with Dolly, I don't know what is), which is exactly how Dolly likes it, one-sided.


One-sided like she and Main havin' to double team my ass to defeat me in War Games, allowin' 'er to steal MY X.


Mine Dolly.


Mine.


You say you never shoulda lost the X? Bitch, you never shoulda WON the X, idgaf WHO'S involved. And that notion was solidified when you couldn't manage to make it OUTTA War Games WITH the strap given the golden Titan ticket you had in my bro Main you fuckin' loser. And THAT notion was solidified when you couldn't take on the opposition once Main was removed.


You can go right ahead and point out that I lost both the Leap of Faith match and the First Round at War Games...problem is, beyond those pay per view matches, you're the one here who hasn't been able to maintain a consistent winning record otherwise.


Out in OCW, fail. A fail. TNGB captured their tag straps, you and Hector Malvado couldn't take 'em, Betsy captured the TransAtlantic, even your fleetin' fuckboi Thad just kicked ass albeit with Uncle Theo's assistance. Helluva job Dolly, always "SO close". TROLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL!


Here in the XWF, you recently failed to capture the win in the tag match with LSM against Flynn and NK. That was a fun hype cycle btw, watchin' 'em both nail your narrow nincompoop pussy to the wall over your inexplicable ability to be in two places at virtually the same time. It was typical hearin' your defense, a fat dollop 'a dogshit they scooped and canned. 'Cause as we both know, Dolly, you ain't ever admittin' fuckin' up about anything. You lie and deny.


Lies, deceit and denial are all you know. Hypocrisy too. What was it you said to Thaddeus durin' the War Games hype cycle (if I'm not mistaken)?

Quote:This is what I’m talking about! You’re just flat out disinterested in anything other than Thad Duke.

LOOK who's FUCKIN' talking Kirstie Alley Thirsty Gal'y. How DARE you accuse ANYONE else 'a bein' so thoroughly inundated with their own self, ya slutty southern skeet receiver. While you hump promos left and right, dominate airtime durin' shows and turn Anarchy into your own personal playpen. Holy SHIT. What ELSE didja say??

Quote:And oh I get it, the whole “wrestling is just a *part* of my life” spiel, what a brilliant insight, are Doc and the space cadets calling you captain obvious yet?

The XWF is just a *part* of all of our lives.

But most of us don’t use that as an excuse to be so blinded by our own ego that we can’t see the things most important crumbling right in front of us… like our abilities to work as a team.

Hey Dolly, you failed to protect your teammate from Chris Page during the War Games finals and you failed to prevent LSM from eatin' the pin against Flynn and NK. While appearin' in everyone's fuckin' promos, gobbling screentime on the shows and takin' over Anarchy. Who the FUCK is blinded by their own ego to the extent it affects their ability to work as a team if it ain't YOU? Hell, even in Lethal Lottery 4 you made it clear that you fooled us all (US bein' your teammates) to manipulate the tourney for your best interest. The only shit you care about in a team atmosphere is makin' YOURSELF look good...just like the only shit you care about overALL is makin' YOURSELF look good.


You cry about Corey and what Thad did.


Fuck off.


You couldn't care LESS 'bout what happened to Corey because he previously crushed you then dumped you and 'is exit opened the door for YOU to step in and shine. Everything about you is lies.


Lies and delusions 'a grandeur.


Y'said WHEN you beat me for the Xtreme Championship. When. Not if. When. Unbelievable level of arrogance there, I-D-C if it's me or anyone else you're speakin' to.


Don't you ever get tired 'a predictin' victory then lookin' like a jackass once you fail? How've you not learned that lesson yet? You do realize y'don't HAFTA act like that in this business right? You predicted victory in Lethal Lottery 4 too and I fucked you up anyway. Get it through your thick skull, skank: YOU. AIN'T. GOOD. ENOUGH. to predict a win. NO ONE is that good and those who believe otherwise (you) either already look like assholes (yeah, YOU. Also my big brother. Hey John, LMAOOOOOOOO) or are very much on their way to an impending rude awakening.


You wanted me at 100%?


You got it you arrogant lil' ass.


There ain't gonna be no bullshit with me kissin' your forehead- I ain't sure what came over me there (kinda like I had no control over my own actions at the time, go figure) -'cause I hate you Dolly. I always have. I always will. Only kiss you're gettin' from me is the kiss 'a death, ya duncecap cocksucker.


Act as unafraid and confident as you wish, the facade ends when I've got you in the ring at Relentless Night 2...all. To. My. Self.


Finally.


After FOUR LONG YEARS.


The Untouchables... Psh...


Corey and Thaddeus obviously aside, you're very Touchable ya butch bitch and that's a fact you'll find appallin' when I gape that mouth 'a yours and fuckstart your balloon head to an epiphany: y'never shoulda come back. I said it before, it bears repeatin': you'll only ever be second best AT best, Dolly, and when the match is concluded... don't bother knockin' on my locker room door drunk for any more 'a that attention, pity, flattery and validation you so psychotically crave like the anxiety-stricken spazz spitroast for ever-young fuckbois you are. You turned your back on anything resemblin' a person I respected long ago and I got no more words of encouragement or support. Your choices as of late...quite frankly sicken me. Look at you-


















Pathetic pissed Pikeville penis pulverizer.


From now on, you're on your own, cunt. Go suck some dick like you did with Continuum, I'm sure _someone's_ down. At least enough to get a nut. It's all you're good for. That and bleedin' out in the ring...all the easier given the barbwire that'll be around us at Relentless.


And that's as close as we'll ever be gettin' again barrin' some potential round 4.


From here on out, you ever approach me in any way not in the ring for a sanctioned match, I'll take you by the ankles and slam your cranium against the concrete 'til your brains splatter and your skull shatters. Like that precious image 'a yours I just blasted to smithereens, ya fuckin' redneck retconnin' cock-gnawin' nothin'.


XXXDXIXEXXXDXOXLXLXYXXXDXIXEXXX

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