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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » Cross Promotional RP Board - Archives
Chaos and Harmony (ft. Betsy Granger & Atara Themis)
Author Message
James Raven Offline
Registered but either hasn't added self to a roster yet or doesn't RP



XWF FanBase:
Some of everyone

(cheered; very rarely plays dirty but isn't lame either; many likable qualities)


#1
02-20-2022, 11:32 PM

[Image: FCFAAE3A-6DF8-471A-AAB0-EA66730AAD7C.jpg]
This place feels vaguely familiar.

I mean, it doesn’t EXACTLY come across like an XWF event… but it kind of does…

There’s a strange sense of deja vu when I walk around backstage, a familiarity to the walls and the concrete that a fresh coat of paint and a few “This is a Denzel Porter” event banners can't hide. I’ve been here before. I grew up and became a man here. I recognize the concrete because I was here when they poured the foundation. I find comfort in the walls because I’m the one that drew the blueprint way back when…

I know some of you don’t like it when I talk like that.

It’s “arrogant” and “conceited” and “out of line” but I can’t help that it just so happens to be true.

I’ve been a weary traveler for so long now, it’s nice to be home.

I assume we can go ahead and skip over the introductions, right? You’ve all seen my face on the poster for months, and countless others for over a decade. You’ve heard my name exalted and cursed, soaked in Greek honey and dripping venom… but you’ve heard it. I’m the wrestling world's white whale, and its often chased unicorn. I’m space mountain, and more importantly I’m the man on speed dial.

I always get the call.

It doesn’t matter if it’s the Tara Fenix Charity Cruise or a one-night return to the XWF so Apex can get the band back together. There’s no difference between the headline of AW’s Evolution IV or the final mercenary spot to decide the balance of power in FIGHT!’s Ascension match. Chris Page’s very own “Cannabis Cup” or UGWC’s Horizon.

When everybody else has already sweat themselves out of commission under the bright lights, and you need a star to carry you home and draw the curtains so your hard working fan base can head to their cars happy and fulfilled it’s always MY phone that rings.

The Denzel Porter Invitational was no exception.

It feels like a lifetime ago. I can’t tell you where I was or what I was doing… but I can tell you that the world was different then. I was different. As days turned to weeks, and gave way to months, things morphed and twisted until what was once comfortable and pure became treacherous and unrecognizable.

This was supposed to be fun, Chris.

I thought this was a chance to dip my toe into some old waters, and mingle with some familiar faces for a weekend. I thought this was a competitive showcase between two men that have tangled against each for over ten years, something with some level of professional courtesy and respect where you and yours could get together with mine for a beer before and after and see how we stacked up after all this time…

… it’s not that anymore.

I’m not saying it’s all your fault. I’m just stating the facts.

There’s an urgency to this, now. It feels like there’s something to prove, or like the field is about to suddenly tilt and make the entire bout an uphill battle. Are you trying to walk me into a trap, Chris? Are you about to bring Betsy out as a valet, or announce the signing of NSQ to CCPE just to try and throw me off my game and gather around to point and laugh as I’m left on the outside looking in, per usual? Nah. That would be too cliche, too on-the-nose even for your old school (outdated) agitator sensibilities.

Hey, maybe I’m being pessimistic. Maybe you were totally sincere about respecting me after all these years, and just wanting to test yourself against me one more time… and for your own best interest, I hope that’s the case.

You won’t get the sort of reaction from me that people would expect, if you try anything sinister.

Like I said; the world was different when we agreed to put this match on the books.

I was different.

Pleased to make your acquaintance.




"CHAOS"
DECEMBER, 2021
TORONTO, ONTARIO, CANADA
THE HOME OF
JAMES RAVEN AND BETSY GRANGER


Canadian winters are cold. Go figure.

I stand alone on the balcony, bare feet chilled by frost covered tiles as a biting wind whips snow from the railing into my face. I don’t move, squinting through the storm to stare out into the treetops at the back of the property. My body trembles violently, teeth chattering and fingertips turning a faint blue…


BETSY
James?


I can hear her voice calling to me from inside the house, the door between the bedroom and balcony open and swinging violently in the storm. It had long ago slammed into the siding, smashing a pane of glass and scattering shards across the ground.

BETSY
… what the hell…


She’s confused as she enters the bedroom. I don’t blame her. I don’t turn around as her footsteps rush across the room towards the open door, leaning out of the threshold to see me standing alone and staring blankly across the foliage.

BETSY
James? JAMES! What are you doing out here?!


JAMES
Thinking.


BETSY
How long have you been out here?


JAMES
I don’t know.


BETSY
How much longer are you planning to stay?


JAMES
I don’t know.


She mutters something to herself, but I can’t hear it clearly over the howling winds. She makes her way out of the house and onto the frozen tiles of the balcony, bounding over to me quickly and wrapping her arms around my quaking shoulders. Touching me sends a chill down her own body, her spine shuddering as she tries to pull me back towards the open door.

BETSY
Jesus Christ! You’re going to get sick, come on!


JAMES
I’m fine.


BETSY
You’re not! Come back inside!


“Listen to her, James…”

I groan audibly, eyes rolling back in their sockets as his voice echoes around my skull. I pull away from Betsy’s grasp and throw my hands up to the sides of my head and palms pressing tight to my ears to try and dampen the sound.

It doesn’t work.

“You wouldn’t want to catch a cold.”

“Not now, please, not now… just leave me alone…”

It had been so peaceful. It had been so quiet. For the first time in what felt like weeks, I had been completely in control of my own thoughts… but now here he was again…


BETSY
James!


She tugs at my shoulder again, and I don’t have the energy to fight her. I spin away from the trees and back towards the house, my feet shuffling and dragging over the frosty tiles to the open door and back into the bedroom. She slams the door shut behind me, tugging at the drape on the back to try and cover the opening left by the broken window pane. She turns back to me sharply.

“Oooo! She looks angry. You’re in trouble.”

BETSY
What is going on with you lately?


Her tone is consciously softened, a deep breath calming her so as not to further agitate me. I look away from her, eyes locking on to a pillow on the bed and not budging. Shame. Fear. Internalization. Pick one. I’m not interested in playing twenty questions, either way.

“Answer her, James. Tell her that your dead brother is talking to you and driving you craaaaazy!”

I bite my tongue.

BETSY
You’re struggling. I see it. I don’t know what you need from me right now, but you don’t have to struggle alone. Just tell me what’s dragging you down, beloved…


She steps forward, arms reaching out and pulling me into a tight embrace. She rests her head on my chest, but my shoulders remain rigid and my muscles tense. It doesn’t take long for her to notice my resistance, and with a sigh she lets me go and makes her way slowly across the room to adjust the thermostat.

My eyes drift to a nearby wall mirror, and I catch my own reflection. My skin is pale, eyes sunken and hair disheveled. An uneven stubble sweeps across my jaw.

“You look bad.”

“Shut up. Go away.”

“Awful, really.”

I look away from the mirror and see Betsy staring at me from across the room. She can tell I haven’t slept, but doesn’t ask how long it’s been. She opens a dresser drawer, pulling a hoodie from inside and carefully walking it over to me. Hesitantly I take it from her, gripping her hand gratefully for a brief moment before slipping it over my head and tucking my hands sheepishly into the front pocket.

“Look around, James. This is the life you’ve built. Are you happy? Is it everything you ever wanted it to be? Do you feel like the man at the top of the mountain, like the people in this business parade you around as? HA! You could have been so much more, you could have done so much better.”


BETSY
Is this about the Denzel Porter show? Did something about it rub you the wrong way? I know you and Chris have had plenty of, well, history…


I don’t answer her. I don’t want to talk about Chris Page, and that’s pretty much a standing rule.

BETSY
I really think you should try and be open minded with him. What he’s said and done before can’t be changed, but from what I can see and what he’s said to me so far while working with The Exiles… I believe he’s different now.


Still I say nothing. She can believe anything that she wants to, I’m not going to tell her she’s right or wrong. I make my way over to the bed, collapsing atop the mattress and closing my eyes. She follows behind, sitting beside me and placing a reassuring hand on my back and rubbing gently.

BETSY
He’s getting older, beloved. He’s not going to be competing for much longer, and I don’t understand why it’s so impossible to believe that after all these years he respects what you’ve done, and the occasions that you’ve beaten him, and he wants to test himself one more time… let him share the spotlight with you. Remind him that nothing has changed. Watch him ride off into retirement with the little niche he’s carved out with CCPE. It’s that simple.

“It’s that simple, little brother. She did such a good job explaining it, she HAS to be right.”

I roll over on the mattress, laying flat on my back and staring up at the light fixture on the ceiling.


JAMES
I never said anything about Chris. You’re riding awfully hard for him.


She scoffs and rolls her eyes, slapping my thigh playfully.

BETSY
Seriously? That sounded dangerously close to jealousy. Chris and I aren’t conspiring against you, dear. I’m sorry to break that to you. There’s no illicit love affair either.


I nod my head slowly.

JAMES
Of course not. Just strange that you’ve started pulling in so close with him and his group, considering the history, and considering that he obviously had sights on another match with me. He never mentioned that to you?


She stares at me for a long moment, not sure if I’m being serious.

BETSY
“It’s the business”, right? Battle lines are temporary, allies are good for one moment and gone the next. I’m just working with the cards I can in a new company without friends, and Chris has made things in Thunder Pro much more… accessible. It’s just like you training with Atara the week after she threw me off a scaffold, right?


A million words rush to mind, but I cap myself before I speak more than one aloud.

JAMES
Right.


BETSY
Mhm.


She stands up from her seat on the bed, and paces back to the balcony door so she can examine the broken glass. She takes a long moment before turning around, her face hiding what’s really on her mind. I know what she’s thinking, and she knows that I know.

“She doesn’t like Atara.”

“She’s just a friend. She was Betsy’s friend too.”

[i]I hesitate, then speak.


JAMES
You know I would come and help you in Thunder Pro if you wanted me to, right?


Betsy smiles.[/i]

BETSY
Of course. Denzel's show is months away. There’s no need to agonize over it now. Not when we both have Countdown coming up to worry about.


Countdown. Of course. The New Years extravaganza for FIGHT! NYC, where I was scheduled to defend NSQ’s Island titles and she was poised to finally capture the Manhattan belt after months of chasing… that was its own can of worms.

“Burn it down.”

“Stop. Please, TJ. Things are going well… I’m finally poised to establish myself as a player in this place. NSQ is running smoothly, and we’re in a position to capture a major portion of the companies gold. Leave me alone… please… stop trying to fuck this all up.”

“They aren’t your friends. She’s not your friend.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about! STOP!”


BETSY
James?


She stares at me with concern in her eyes, as I’d subconsciously raised my hands back to my ears to try and drown out noise that only I can hear. I drop my eyes and stare back at her.

BETSY
You’d tell me if anything was seriously wrong, right?


JAMES
… yeah.


BETSY
I love you.


JAMES
I love you too.


BETSY
Forever and always.


“I’ll take the under on that one.”

FADE OUT



Hello, Chris.

It’s nice to see you again, or something like that.

I assume we can forgo the formalities. We’ve done this enough times over the years that we probably don’t need the choreography and pageantry that we’d go through with the common folk; there’s no need to pound our chests and read off our resumes, or explain to each other what we’re capable of or willing to do in a match like this.

You know me.

I know you.

We shared the ring in the XWF when I was nineteen years old. We shared the ring in the WGWF on the biggest stage of the year, and tore the house down. You worked for me a couple of times, and I worked for you. We made a LOT of money with each other over the past decade plus, and put a lot of asses in a lot of seats… and through it all, you always had something to prove.

No judgement. I’ve been there. I’ve had my own white whales to chase and enough chips on my shoulder to supply a Super Bowl party, so when my phone rang and your name came across the line my first thought was “sure, give the old man one more chance to catch lightning in a bottle, he’s earned it”. As each day passed, though, I questioned that decision. With each move you made and star that you sweet talked, I realized that you were no different than you’d always been.

You were the same ego-maniac I’d always known. You were the same self-centered narcissist, still trying to manipulate the masses into thinking it was in their own best interest to shape the world in your image, still trying to talk his way into matches he didn’t deserve for titles he didn’t earn against legends he doesn’t rank with… boasting flimsy reasoning and paper-thin examples of why he’s what’s “best for business”.

You don’t know what’s best for business, Chris. You never have.

You’re the same guy that used to buy himself hand picked and tailored title shots from Jon Brown just to get his ass handed to them as Jon laughed and cashed the check. You’re the same guy that spent a full year building your company around Kenny Radical and NICK FUCKING RYAN while wondering why the interested talent pool was weakening and you were barely keeping the lights on. You’re the guy that put his WresteWars streak on the line against the greatest to ever do it, IN HIS HOMETOWN!

Not a single one of those things were in your best interest, Chris. Not a single one of them ended up being what was best for you, and there’s a laundry list of other examples that I won’t get into because they mostly happened in the WGWF and nobody remembers what the hell that is… because of you… being terrible at business… in case that was not totally clear.

What are you telling these C.C.P.E. signees? What sort of smoke and mirrors are you pitching them when you tell them you can navigate the waters and bring them to new heights? It took you a decade and a half dozen attempts, conservatively, to capture the XWF Uni belt… and for all of the company hopping you do, all of the bright lights and marquee match ups… what have you done that they should be emulating?

Name one door you can open for Seb or Peter Vaughn that they couldn’t kick down on their own? How can you in good conscience sign your clients to a match like Blood Money while actively competing against them to win it yourself?

You’re running a pyramid scheme, Chris! We all see it. We’ve all said it.

You can try to change the alignment, and tell us they’re all standing in a straight line and moving autonomously, but they’re all standing underneath you. It's your name on the banner, and it’s you with allies everywhere you go as you tell them all they can fight each other but you’re a universal friend… it doesn’t matter who wins or loses, when you have stake in all of them, right? You don’t have to spread yourself thin in ten companies when you can just start tweeting boastful messages each day of the week about what your minions are achieving under your watchful eye.

You’ve always strived to keep that Long Term Vision, right? You’ve always wanted that Brotherhood to walk behind you while you talk your shit to those on the Apex.

Congratulations, Chris. You’ve got your status among the people, by spoken propaganda more than achievement but still… You’ve got your army, too. You’ve even got Betsy.

Good for you, but don’t feel too special. For whatever reason she’d prefer anyone in her corner to me when push comes to shove, and that includes an old rival of mine that’s currently coming for my neck. I shouldn’t have been surprised when you two ended up aligned in Thunder Pro, and I shouldn’t have been hurt when things started to turn in FIGHT! but I was, on both accounts. I don’t expect everyone to push their chips all in on my behalf. I just don’t expect them to hedge against me either.

Maybe that was the beginning of the end, the final straw. I don’t know. It’s a story for another time, a discussion for a different therapy session.

Things have changed, Chris. This isn’t fun like it was supposed to be.

This is business, now. This is showing someone that has always chased me that he’s still a step behind and getting slower. This is revenge for a Ravenstock that could have been, and an eye opening message for every member of your enterprise that you do not walk on water, you do not prove infallible, and you don’t know how much you’re capable of chewing before you fucking bite. They are following a charlatan.

This is reminding you that I was the world champion of your company, that you put me in the hall of fame, and you did it because despite your constant attempts to slow me down I proved to be undeniable.

I’ve only got a few things left to care about, Chris.

Making sure you don’t leave Las Vegas with the biggest win of your life is absolutely one of them.




"HARMONY"
FEBRUARY, 2022
ATHENS, GREECE
THE HOME OF
ATARA THEMIS


The Greek air is warm and comforting as I stand alone on her balcony, staring at the gentle glow of the city in the near distance. I close my eyes, inhaling deeply, my chest swelling before my shoulders slump along with a contented sigh.

“I like it here, James.”

“Me too.”

I make my way casually to a nearby loveseat and settle down comfortably, lacing my fingers behind my head and leaning back.

“That Atara girl is something.”

“I know.”

“The chemistry between you guys… BOOM! Explosive. I’ve got a semi just thinking about it.”

I don’t respond. I know what he’s trying to do, and he’s not going to get a reaction out of me. Not now. Not when I’m finally starting to feel like myself again. I hear footsteps and laughter from the house, the door to the balcony propped open so I can see inside as Tyler comes sprinting in excitedly and bounds towards me. Atara is close behind.

“Here we go…”

“No. You know the deal. Not around my son.”

“... fine…”


JAMES
Hey, buddy.


TYLER
We got ice cream!


JAMES
Oh yeah?


He bounces energetically, and I glance to Atara who smiles and shrugs her shoulders.

ATARA
Greek ice cream. It’s better. He had to at least try it.


I look back to Tyler who nods his head in enthusiastic agreement.

TYLER
It was chewy.


JAMES
What kind did you get?


TYLER
Some flower.


Atara sets her bag down inside and joins us on the balcony, a quick touch to my forearm as she makes her way around me to stand beside him that sends a jolt of electricity through my body.

ATARA
It was orchid.


JAMES
He picked orchid?


ATARA
I did. I beat him at arm wrestling and got to choose his flavor.


TYLER
Yeah, well, I wasn’t ready.


She nods her head in mock understanding, patting him on the shoulder in solidarity. It’s a long moment before I can take my eyes off of her, as if I catch something new and exciting with each of her subtle movements or head turns. I eventually shake myself out of it and glance at my watch.

JAMES
OK. You need to go wash up, brush your teeth, and start to get ready for bed alright?


TYLER
I’m not tired.


JAMES
Nobody said ‘get in bed’. Just start winding down, alright? We’ve got another full day tomorrow.


He nods his head reluctantly, and makes his way back inside and towards the bathroom. He turns back to Atara and I, his eyes suddenly wide again.

TYLER
Dad! Remember at the soccer game,-


ATARA
Football.


TYLER
Remember at the football game when the one guy put the ball between the other guys legs, and then he shot it in off the post?


JAMES
I do. We saw it less than eight hours ago.


TYLER
And then all the fire in the crowd while everyone danced! Crazy…


His eyes glaze over as he drifts back to his memories of the game. He turns back towards the bathroom and begins to job down the hallway, dribbling an invisible football and taking a shot.

TYLER
Gooooooaaaaaaaal!


Atara and I listen to him making crowd noise for himself, and he soon disappears around the corner. I turn to her immediately, reaching for her hand and pulling her towards me before gripping her around the waist and kissing her deeply. Her fingertips dance across my arms as she leans into me, and after the stolen moment and a gentle nibble of her lower lip, I pull ever so slightly away.

JAMES
Thank you.


ATARA
It’s my pleasure, you can stop thanking me. I’m having as much fun as he is.


She stares into my eyes, her smile creeping back upon her face as I let her go and make my way over to a small tray on the side table, two crystal classes nestled together next to an ice bucket and shaker. I place a few cubes into the metal cylinder, carefully mixing in grapefruit juice and grenadine along with a generous pour of ouzo. I screw the cap into place and shake vigorously.

I might have snuck a glance to make sure she was watching and then flexed a little.

I carefully pour the mediterranean sunset into the two glasses, lifting both and offering her one. She takes it, hand wrapping around mine momentarily before she pulls back with the drink and a gracious bow of her head.

The glasses clink.

We drink.

Together we make our way over to the edge of the balcony to appreciate the view, free hands finding their way to wrap around each other as they stand in peace and silence. She eventually sneaks a glance at me, tip-toeing back and forth in her mind about whether to speak. She lets her tongue loose.


ATARA
How are you?


JAMES
Is that a serious question? I’m fantastic.


ATARA
No, not now, or this week. How are you? Do you need to talk about anything? Do you need anything from me?


I turn my body to face her head on, looking her in the eyes sincerely.

JAMES
I’m fantastic.


She nods her head, and is quiet for another long moment before continuing.

ATARA
Just know I’ll always listen; good or bad, no matter how big or small it may seem to you, I’ll hear it all just the same.


She’d expressed the sentiment before, but continued to echo it so often that I actually believed it. I squeeze her hand gratefully, and she turns back to the view of the city. I had done this to myself; I had told her enough stories about searching for a shoulder to cry on or someone to listen to my venting, and now she was bending over backwards to do that for me.

Funny this is, I didn’t feel like I needed it so much anymore.


JAMES
I don’t want to leave here. Forget Las Vegas, I’ve seen it a dozen times. Forget Chris Page. Let’s just stay here.


She winks.

ATARA
I’ll get another set of keys made.


I take a sip of my drink, turning around to settle atop the ledge.

JAMES
I don’t trust him. After all these years, I just don’t trust him.


ATARA
That makes sense, as he’s untrustworthy. Have I ever told you the story of Odysseus and Polyphemus? Polyphemus was a sight to behold, monstrous, and unbeatable for mortal men. Odysseus was crafty, and telling the cyclops ‘my name is nobody’ before offering him a goatskin of wine and lulling him to sleep. Odysseus stabbed the cyclops in the eye with a stick while he slept, blinding him, and while Polyphemus roared in agony his brothers screamed out ‘who hurt you?!’ and he responded… ‘nobody’. They left, confused, as Polyphemus bled and Odysseus escaped.


She takes a sip of her own drink, then steps in front of me and leans her body against mine.

ATARA
Don’t be fooled by a goatskin of wine and offer of friendship. Chris Page has never been your ally. Somebody that tells you they’re nobody is somebody to keep every eye you’ve got on.


RAVEN
I’m sorry. Am I the cyclops in this story? Is Chris Page the hero?


She looks at me solemnly.

ATARA
The lesson is the lesson. It can be applied however you wish. His camaraderie is hollow, a Trojan horse… and… and now I’ve said my piece.


She’s absolutely right.

… but we don’t need to discuss it now.

Chris Page would get enough of my time next week, and he had occupied enough up until now. I don’t need to worry about the Denzel Porter Invitational, or Countdown or Blood Money or my relationship with NSQ or Betsy or anything else that had been hanging like a collection of albatrosses around my neck.

She was beautiful. Perfection. Everything I had needed.

My Goddess.


TYLER
Are you guys going to stay out here all night?


Our eyes fly to the door, Tyler standing there in his pajamas with a disapproving look on his face. Atara and I exchange embarrassed laughs.

JAMES
We’ll be right in, buddy. We’ll play cards or something before bed.


Tyler rolls his eyes and trudges back into the house. Atara looks at me with a miffed expression on her face.

ATARA
Cards?


JAMES
I don’t know! The kid had me on the spot!


She smiles the smile that’s just for me, the secret that only she and I share. She leans in and kisses me on the cheek.

ATARA
You’re sure there’s nothing you need from me?


JAMES
Please, you’ve done more than enough.


She leans in one last time, body moving in slow motion and slowing in the moonlight. I can feel the heat radiating off of her skin, my blood boiling as her lips brush against my earlobe and and a sultry whisper drips from her lips like honey.

ATARA
… nothing at all?


JAMES
I lied. There’s many things. So many things. A whole list.


She pulls away and makes her way towards the house.


ATARA
Cards first.


JAMES
Psh. I can play 52-Pickup and have him in bed in twenty seven seconds flat, don’t play with me Atty…


I chase after her.

Je t'aime.

"BOOM! Like I said... this chemistry is explosive."

"Get fucked, TJ."


FADE OUT



The more things change, the more they stay the same.

The new boss is the same as the old boss.

No matter what else shifts or evolves, I am still James Raven and I am still here. I am still your Everest. I am still the man that when given a blank check to deliver any opponent you want for a marquee showcase, you reluctantly name… and I know what this means to you, as much as you may choose to downplay it and portray things to your fans as though we’re neck and neck rivals just putting on a show for the fans.

A win at the Invitational means more for you than all of your fed-hopping, all of your red-eye flights and all the days of burning your body to exhaustion. It’s validation beyond a split series with Centurion or a win over Todrick Tabor-Ramsey, and something tangible to show to your “clients” when you tell them that you can teach them to slay giants.

It’s proof to yourself that you might have been as good as you thought you were back in our early days, and that you were just the victim of a few bad breaks and some backstage politics.

You NEED to beat me, to prove something to EVERY. SET. OF EYES. watching around the world.

I don’t need to beat you at all. I just need to not lose, and you’re going home hollow and incomplete. DQ? No contest? There are options. I’d normally never consider such a thing, but these are extenuating circumstances. There’s nothing I won’t consider.

You’re never going to beat me Chris, but good luck.

Oh... hello XWF... I hope you missed me.

Now, for old times sake; Fear the Raven… Forevermore.

#RavenByABillion

[Image: C7295020-B123-44AE-89CD-477D29E701D1.jpg]

The People’s G.O.A.T.
120-24-3

3x Universal Champion, 3x World Champion, 9x Xtreme Champion, 1x Hart Champion, 2x Phoenix Champion, 1x Women’s Champion (lol), 1x Federweight Champion, 1x Heavymetalweight Champion, 5x Tag Team Champion
(w/ Aidan Collins, Roxy Nova, Mia Sanchez, Big Shank, Drew Archyle/Robert Main)

XWF Hall of Legends
#4 on XWFs “Top 50” List
2009 Rookie of the Year
2009 Face of the Year
2010 Heel of the Year
8x Star of the Month
2x Star of the Year (2009/‘10)
2x Feud of the Year (2010/‘11 w/ Big Shank)
2017 High Stakes Winner
Former Owner
Lots of other random shit
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