The scene opens outdoors. There's plenty of greenery, but the exact location is blurred and out of focus as Graves stands in the foreground.

"Come on Jim, you know that you need this match just as much as I do. Sure, you're the big star. Big bad Caedus. *Nobody can beat him! You've got quite the reputation. My rep falls more or less in line with "pest" than a challenger, but here we are. Why? Sure, you respect me. You're one of the few that do, and that might be why you initially accepted my challenge, but know it or not, you need this match just as much as I do. Think about it, you're on the cusp of earning a twenty-four-seven briefcase. That's a damn near guaranteed reign with any belt that you set your eyes on, but let's be real Jimbo. Who earns a briefcase to downgrade? We all know what you're eyeing Jim, and what you're tryin' to do here. You've been racking up your defenses low-key. Bottom feeding with the LSM's, Atara Themis's, and Dolly Waters' of the world to try and SNAKE your claim to that case."

"It's a sound play, and I applaud the idea, but that doesn't mean that I'm going to stand for it when I think that I can do something about it."

Graves begins to nod his head as he tucks his lips into his mouth. Before producing a big gross loogie that he spits off camera.

"Yeah, you heard me, Jim. Despite you nearly killing me the last time that we squared off, I think I'm at a point in my career where it's "do or die". I have a lot to be ashamed of Jim, and little time left to try and do something about it, and believe me Jim, I want to do something about it. That respect that you show me any time we interact, be it friend or foe..."

Micheal's eyes grow large as he is inexplicably overcome with anger as he lunges towards the camera!

"DON'T YOU THINK I WANT THAT FROM EVERYONE JIM!?"

Micheal grits his teeth as a low growl rumbles from deep within. Showing what seems to be great restraint, Graves withdraws from the camera, closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. With his eyes still closed, Micheal begins to speak softly to himself.

"Calm down Micheal... This is what your doctor told you not to do... Don't project your failings onto others..."

Micheal takes another long deep breath before opening his eyes and staring directly into the camera with an uncalming gaze.

"You will have to excuse me, Jim. I'm working through some things. See, as a part of my efforts to rejoin the XWF, I've begun seeing a psychiatrist. He's helping me sort through some... Stuff. I'll be frank, Jim. When I think back on my life and career, I'm not sure what's real, and what's imaginary. Apparently, I've been living my life in a state of psychosis."

Micheal shrugs, understanding it about as much as the viewer might.

"Think of it as Wolverine from the X-Men, except instead of some shady government implanting memories into my head, it seems that my messed up brain has been doing it instead."

*Editors note - Micheal Graves actually has had his memories altered by a shady organization known as DWR as part of the Weapon:Program. (The guy gets around.)

"And just when I think I have my shit sorted out and I know what's what, I look up old tape and find myself casting spells and conjuring mythical creatures out of thin air. That shit actually happened, but my family was just a figment..."

A toothy grin creeps onto Graves face. After a moment he begins to chuckle. The chuckle quickly changes to laughter as tears form in the corners of his eyes. Almost comedically, he slaps his knee and lets out a howl! He doubles over, clutching his gut and gasping for air as he struggles to contain the laughter. Suddenly Micheal roars with rage as he Stands up shaking his fist! His eyes bulge and veins around his forehead and neck follow suit as his face turns flush with color! His roar fizzles out with the last of his breath, and Micheal falls to his knees in defeat. He doesn't move at all, his eyes fixated on the ground, but soon enough, his weak voice breaks the silence.

"Life's a bitch, isn't it Jimmy?"

Micheal falls back to his ass and looks up to the camera.

"Sometimes it seems like it's just bad shit after bad shit, with nothing good in between."

"Remember when we first started talking about AX3? Your, mine, and Robert Main's stable for those too young to remember. Do you remember what we said, what we pledged? Brothers for life through thick and thin."

A smirk crawls onto Micheal's face as he thinks back.

"How quickly we fell apart, and mostly due to some kings of the XWF returning at a very inopportune time, and I'm not just referencing how their return overshadowed our big debut, but also how they spent the next few months kicking the shit out of us left and right, taking every piece of gold that we had claimed and leaving that bond between us that we swore to uphold in shambles. AX3 fell apart, and we went our separate ways. Brothers for life? I don't even get a Christmas card Jimbo, but Robert Main gets to be a part of APEX? Even after you royally fucked him six ways to Sunday the FIRST TIME by wigging the fuck out, you're BACK, and instantly the two of you are good again? Well, no, you're not. Gold tore us apart before, but it wasn't I that asked for it! You and Main thought AX3 was dead. Bad for your image. Kinda like me. I can't really blame you there, I guess. Tell me, Jim, am I remembering that right? Because while I may or may not have conjured a dragon the last time that we faced off, I'm pretty damned certain that I recollect it being Robert calling for the end of AX3 and talking you into going along with it. Is that right? As I said, I'm dealing with some memory issues at the moment, so clarity would be appreciated."

Micheal sucks his teeth as the smirk fades away.

"If my recollection of does hold true, however, I'm sure that you can understand the grudge that I've held since APEX first formed. As I said before, I was wrong for blaming you for not being a good friend Jim. You are a good friend, one of the best ones that I have, but I don't have many, so that's really not an accomplishment. So in this case, if you aren't first, you're last, and sorry son, but you come in just shy of Dolly Waters, and she once bashed my brains in with a baseball bat, so let that sink in for a minute, Jimbo! I consider a girl that once tried to murder me a better friend than the guy who tossed me to the side for "The Omega Cock Goblin" Robert Main!? I don't know what that guy has against me, but next time you see him, tell him to go fuck himself!"

That smirk returns with a renewed glimmer in his eyes.

"Oh right, you did that already! War Games! Team "Who Gives A Fuck" - vs - "Nobody Gives A Fuck"! Caedus goes hard on Main! Main is shocked! Hurt! Betrayed! Robert Main gets a taste of how ole' Gravy feels every fucking day! Good Job Jim! Way to confirm another truth that anyone who REALLY knows you should already know, and that's the fact that you are a true subscriber to the saying, "alls fair in love and war"! Robert Main proves himself an idiot (AGAIN!) for not expecting Jim Caedus to bring the fight of his life, and Micheal Graves realizes that if by some miracle, he does find himself back in an XWF ring, then one of the first things that he needs to do is step into that ring with Jim fucking Caedus and find out real quick, just how much "Gravy" is left is the tank! That's what we're doing here Jimmy, we're having a fight. No bullshit, just a straight-up fight to the knockout. May the best man win. I know you won't hold back, and I've told you that I wouldn't hold back. So let me ask..."

Micheal tucks his lips as he exhales deeply through his nose.

"So, I haven't exactly been around these parts for a few months, and as such, I haven't seen this for myself and I can't say for sure, but the talk around town is that the Jim beating on Robert was actually an alternative Jim from another universe? Dragons and Butt Potatoes dictate that I can't call BS, so fair enough if true, though I can't help but think that if that is what actually happened, then, way to get played by your evil twin? XWF is a weird place, right? We have Vampires, Werewolves, Doc talks to a decapitated head, and it talks back, AND GHOST TANK!? I can't even begin to fathom whatever it is he has going on, but by my count, there are currently AT-LEAST three of him. I can tell you from personal experience, we're all lucky to even be alive considering the level of magical power that fucker whelms! Back on point though Jimbo, either you're an unstoppable monster that wrecks everything in your path, friendship and brotherhood be damned, or you're such a dumbass that you let Cad-Zilla bump you out of promoville and dump on buddy Main? Are you sure that you aren't just making excuses so that nobody questions the stability of your tag team right before your big title match against "Not The Bastards"? Don't get me wrong Jim, I could give a fuck less about those guys. It's just funny how that was the big match-up, then something came along and fucked it all up. As life tends to do."

"I've been called a fuck up plenty, and I HAVE fucked a lot of shit up in my time. So, you gotta ask yourself Jim, has life sent me to fuck shit up for you?"

Micheal stands up from the ground and dusts himself off. He then draws attention to the cannons in the background.


"Now, onto the topic of the wheres and the why's Jim. You may be asking yourself, what's with the cannons? I'm sure most of you have surmised it to be fitting that I stand on an actual War ground as I prepare for the war of my life the November seventeenth Warfare! What you may not realize that I believe to be of the utmost significance is that this is Chalmette National Historical Park and it was the sight of the Battle of New Orleans, where Andrew fucking Jackson put a quick and decisive end to the war of 1812! How fitting that I plan on putting a quick and decisive end to your reign as Xtreme champion!"

Graves smiles a toothy smile, proud of himself for coming off as intelligent for a change.

"I bet that you can't believe that I made that connection, huh Jim? New Orleans, The end of a huge American war! Tying it together with what we have going on. It's not like me. I have a reputation of calling you a f... AHEM! Dummy, and charging in with head first, no plan, no thought, just pure hatred, pure violence. I say mean things and I smash brains. Well, I'm man enough to admit that before today, I didn't know jack shit about the War of 1812, or the significance of this city and it's history with war, and the war that you and I are bringing to it in the modern age. Not a damn thing, but I learned Jim, I made a change. Expect the unexpected Jim, because with these- "

Graves shakes an unmarked pill bottle.

" -along with the guidance of my medical professional, I am capable of coming at you all sorts of ways you wouldn't expect, and suddenly this fight becomes more than may the hardest head win!"

The scene fades to black.


Somewhere in St. Louis (presumably)

We catch up with Micheal Graves early morning, asleep in a hotel bed. The white sheets twisted and mangled, barely covering his sweaty nude body. The landline phone rings with a startling intrusion to the silence. Graves jerks to consciousness, wide-eyed and seemingly unaware of his surroundings. Awoken from a nightmare, perhaps? The phone continues to ring a second and third time before Graves gathers the composure to answer.

"WHAAAAAAAT!!?" Graves shouts into the receiver in a rather animated way before placing it to his ear.

"Graves, it's Vinnie! Good news dude! I booked you for a promotional appearance at WET WILLIE'S SWAMP TOURS! Don't bother looking it up! The place isn't listed online! It's a real "word of mouth" business! I'm sending a car in a half an hour, so pack your bags! Oh, and Micheal, this is kind of a big deal, a real chance to prove that you can behave! Don't screw it up, or I'll be forced to future endeavor you, AGAIN!!"

*CLICK* *BUZZ*

Graves looks at the phone curiously, unsure if Lane actually hung up on him so abruptly, or... Nope, Lane just hung up. Graves places the phone onto the receiver and rolls over to his back. He rubs his eyes before looking at the clock to see that it's only 05:30 AM. He lets out an annoyed grown before sitting up.

"Did he say swamp tours?" We fade out as Graves is left to ponder what exactly it is that Vinnie Lane has in store for him.

(About an hour later.)

An uber pulls upon an old dusty dirt road, its destination, a small cabin that has been modified into a business. Trash and scrap litter the area around the cabin. A small pontoon boat sits just off from the cabin in the swamps behind it. Painted down the side of the boat are images of gators and sasquatch, along with the branding “WET WILLIE’S SWAMP TOURS”. The uber comes to a stop just in from of the cabin. Micheal Graves steps out of the car and looks at the sorry sight before him as the Uber pulls away.

”This is a joke, right?”

He says to himself just before an overweight man dressed in his finest soiled jeans and dirty wife-beater emerges from inside of the cabin.

“You the wrestler they said was coming!?”

Graves stares at the man as he approaches.

”Yeah, that’d be me. Are you, Willie?”

“I think so, that’s what my mama calls me anyway!”

Willie lets out an obnoxious laugh as Graves looks past him.

”So uh, shouldn’t there be a crowd of rabid XWF fans here?”

“Oh, don’t chew worry about that buddy, we’ll have more people out here than you can shake a stick at once we open. We’ve already sold out the first tour!”

”First tour?” Graves asks with genuine shock.

“Well yeah, the boys in the office said that you’d be available all week, is that going to be a problem?”

You can see the rage on Micheal’s face. His hands begin trembling. Willie looks on concerned.

“Is everything alright there, partner?”

Graves fidgets in his pocket for a moment before retrieving a pill bottle. He dumps a random amount into his hand. Pills of all colors. He tosses them into his mouth. A few miss the mark and fly past him to the ground. Graves chews and swallows the pills dry as Willie looks on worried.

“What are those for?”

”Nothing. All week you say?”

“Yes sir! Three tours a day from now till Tuesday! That’s what your Vincent Lane promised me!”

Graves looks past the man to the cabin once more.

“I take it I’m staying here since Lane canceled my hotel reservation?”

“Yes sir! As part of our deal, you’ll be staying in five-star accommodations right here!”

Graves looks back to Willie, then back to the trash-littered property surrounding the cabin, then back to Willie. Graves eyes narrow.

”You’re not trying to pass that dump off as five stars are you?”

Willie looks over his shoulder and back to Graves.

“The business? Hell, no son! I'm talking about the pontoon out back!"

Graves looks shocked at the notion!

"You mean that rickety boat!?"

"I'm telling you, best night's sleep you'll ever have! Just let the gentle sway of the swamp rock ya to sleep!"

Knowing that he can't just leave or else Vinnie will likely fire him once more, Graves slumps with a defeated posture as he looks to Wet Willie.

"Where can I put my stuff?"

As the day progresses, we see a small crowd come in for the Swamp Tour, and to see Micheal Graves as well! It's pretty evident that most of these people have no interest in the swamp, and have only been drawn here by Micheal's celebrity from his years in the XWF and other wrestling promotions across the world. Seriously, the promotion here at Wet Willies is pretty shit. Basically, there's none! That's the only way to explain the pitiful crowd of seven that show up for the first tour! Later on Willie, Graves, and the small crowd of seven crams onto the pontoon boat. There are plenty of shots of gators and such. Nothing really interesting. Just Graves taking lots of pills and hating life as he lends what little celebrity he has to a fucking swamp tour.

Later that night, as Graves lays his head to rest, ready to be rocked to sleep by the gentle sway of the swamp, the sound of a snapping twig draws his attention.

What's that? Just in the tree line? It's too dark to see. Graves sits up, hoping his eyes may somehow focus through the darkness with the added effort. He struggles to focus but is pretty sure he catches the figure of a man moving through the dim moonlight.

"WHO'S THERE!?"

Graves scrambles for a flashlight and jumps to his feet and out of the boat.

"I'M ABOUT TO FUCK YOU UP IF YOU DON'T ANNOUNCE YOURSELF!"

Graves switches the flashlight on and points it towards the silhouette.


"Aw fuck me! I'm starting to feel like the John McClaine of the fucking paranormal!"




















T-B-C