Somewhere that may or may not be our reality…

The icy looking scenery being matched with a breeze far too warm to be accurate. Strange noises echoing along the open, snow covered road. A group of people walking by that resemble toasters with legs. Yeah, this definitely wasn’t really happening. But of course, here comes Marf walking on by as if it is. Trailing slightly behind him was Damien, unfazed by whatever was going on. Rubbing a hand along the ruins of his face, clearly he had more pressing concerns. Suddenly he looks up and shouts at Marf, stopping him in his tracks…

Marf…are you awake!?

For a fleeting, terrifying second Marf is unable to see anything at all.

Marf? Are you awake?

Marf jolts in his seat on the comfortable couch. He stares blankly ahead at the sharply dressed woman sitting across from him. Marf slowly looks around the small office, at the plush, leather couch. He peers up at the plaques on the wall, the massive bookshelf filled with all sorts of self help books. Marf’s expression changes over to disappointment as he finally realizes where he is. The therapist interrupts his thoughts with another crisp question.

Another delusion? Or are you finally back with me? I can hardly imagine Vincent and Theodore paid for you to come here and sleep.

Marf sheepishly mumbles through a reply.

Sorry…how long was I?…

Sleeping on my couch and wasting both our time?

She slowly exaggerates looking at her watch before responding harshly.

Nine minutes and twenty seven seconds now. Do you have these experiences often?

Marf looks up, not bothering to try and hide his irritation.

Experiences?

Yes, these little dips in and out of our reality to whatever fantasy illusion you’ve invented for yourself. To escape the reality of whatever it is you’re too scared to face.

Before Marf can lash out with a rebuttal, that familiar voice cuts in.


Marf turns and looks beside him to see Damien sitting comfortably. He smirks through the mangled remains of his face. Marf turns back and eyes the therapist, patiently staring back at him.

So you don’t see him right now?

Marf tips his head to the left after asking. The therapist leans forward, not taking her judgemental eyes off of Marf.

See who, Marf? Who do you think is in this room with us right now?

Damien…what’s left of him anyway…

Marf, there is nobody here other than you and I. What is the significance of this Damien character? Is he an invisible friend you’ve had since childhood?

Marf lowers his head while slowly shaking it.

No…he was a person. A friend, at one point. But then I killed him. And that wretched bitch somehow brought him back and cursed me with him…

The therapist audibly clicks her tongue off the back of her teeth before cutting in.

And let me guess, you need to find his body and burn the bones to break free from this curse? Does me saying that help you understand how ridiculous you sound? You’re miles from who you used to be!

Marf keeps his head lowered while answering.

How would you know who I used to be?

Are you serious? I followed your career back in your days in Japan. I was, almost still am a big fan. Which makes me wanting to help get you out of this pathetic slump that much more serious.

Marf cocks his head in wonderment.

You actually watched me back then?

The therapist leans in now, excitement filling her eyes.

Oh yes, that vicious mean streak as you destroyed everything put in front of you. It was impossible not to be a fan. I mean it really shouldn’t surprise you all that much considering my background.

She opens her arms as Marf glances up.

I just thought you were a lesbian.

Marf!

Sorry.

Marf…

Who is the wretched bitch?

Marf stiffens up and glares back at the pressing therapist.

No, we are NOT talking about her!

Well it sounds like you don’t need to talk about her. Ever again. Sounds like something or someone you need to move on from, something you clearly haven’t done. And yes, you’re right, it sounds like something we are not going to talk about. Today. Our time is up, but we will be diving more into this in our next session...

Marf barely allows her to finish as he pushes off of the couch and heads for the door.

Whatever, doc.

Marf storms out of the office while the therapist begins making some notes in her folder. Marf marches down the narrow hallway while mumbling something to himself.

Maybe I will go burn some fuckin’ bones…

We fade out as Marf steps outside and flags down a cab.

Hit me with that promo time big guy!

Time to take a Leap of Faith, as they say. Coming off a couple rough outings lately, perhaps some will say management is taking a leap of faith just putting me into this match. Marf is just there to fill a hole. He’s there to be a fall guy. A fucking stepping stone for someone else’s bright journey to the top. Maybe there’s even some thoughts that I don’t even deserve to be in the damn Leap of Faith match. As if ole Marfy hasn’t earned his stripes. I can see how some of you assholes could come up with straight trash like that. And here’s my rebuttal to every fan, every foe and everyone else…

Marf simply leans back and raises a stern middle finger at the camera while sneering.

Fuck right off if you don’t think I belong here. I’m Marf, the two time Television champion. Multi time Freestyle and Heavy metal weight champion. Former Xtreme champion. If you motherfuckers think I’m just going to show up and be there like an extra you’re about to be unpleasantly surprised! I’m going to show up and do one of my favorite things around here, fuckin’ wreck people. Lucky for me we’re about to roll into Leap of Faith with a handful of fools ready to get wrecked.

Just look at the names in this match. Vita Velvateen, former foe of mine. I slayed that ass once already. But of course, I’m expected to say that, aren’t I? I’m expected to talk about how I walked away the victor from our battle several months ago. I’m expected to gloat about being the first motherfucker to power out of her vicious finisher. And why wouldn’t I? A mere mortal not only survives the vampiric Vita but defeats her as well. A proverbial stake through the heart of her dreams, that day at least.

Sniff, snort, gargle and spit. Simply charming.

But this is not that day. This isn’t even that month. Our paths have wound along darkened corridors and fevered dreams. Each of us sending waves of destruction wherever we go. Now we approach Leap of Faith and a newer Vita is about to stand before me. Her latest reign of terror has actually been borderline impressive. Worthy of a golf clap even. Finally Vita is out here proving her worth instead of just being some lame ass vampire that is such a charity case I’d get a tax credit of a couple grand for fuckin’ her. Bravo Vita, bare those fangs once again and bring it because I’m about to work that ass so hard you will be entitled to start a union.

Marf of course makes the ‘bring it’ motion while smirking into the camera.

Speaking of proving to be worthy…no I’m not about to bring up that shitty lion heart ripoff yet. Nah, this is where Angie Vaughn slides in. Now you may talk like some crypto currency obsessed fucktard that invested far too much in dogecoin at times, but I’ll throw some credit your way, Ang. You have started off somewhat decently in your short time here. Good on ya, making a name for yourself and not just by acting a tad slutty and then deleting Twitter once you get called out for it. Word on the street is you have done quite well for yourself in some other companies too.

Buuuuuut we don’t really give a fuck about that now do we? It is all about the what have you done for me lately rhetoric. And what have you done lately, exactly? You scooped up a victory on Saturday Savage over the tongue tied Reggie Estrada. Congrats and shit. Been there, done that. But hey, give your mom a call I’m sure she would be real proud, like totes malotes ehrmergerd and whatever other stupid shit needs to be said. I may not be as handsy as ole Reg, but I’ll be sure to make you feel reeeeeal uncomfortable when I get my paws on you.

As usual, there really is no way to tell if he’s trying to sound sexy or violent here. Probably both.

You know who else I’m actually looking forward to getting my hands on? No, it’s not you Kido, wait your fuckin’ turn. I’m talking about Marky Flynn, a guy I have not had the pleasure of really going toe to toe with. A guy that was begged for by Thad himself to step out of the silence and grace us all with his presence. A guy that’s been on a solid roll since and quite frankly won’t shut the fuck up. We’ll see how much talking Mark does with my meaty arm wrapped around his throat. Maybe folks will enjoy you more when the only sounds you can make are gurgled coughs.

Marf takes a moment to rub a hand through his beard and squint before sighing.

I don’t even want to give the next guy a gurgled cough or any attention for that matter. Raion Kido, if that even is your real name. I don’t even want to waste my breath on you. Fuckin’ Thad looks to be taking time off so what, we need another liony dipshit to fill the spot? Fuck off. Honestly, you look like the type of person who shows up to a Denny’s and clears the place out with your dirty coke farts. Seems everywhere I go lately I hear your stupid name. Why exactly is everyone on your pencil dick? You’re not undefeated, you haven’t won any titles. The fuck should I care about you? Oh right, I don’t. So instead I’ll just beat that ridiculous Liu Kang hair style off your thick head. Ain’t no saving you from this ass whooping.

Marf wipes away an angry sneer and then gives the camera that patented sweet Marfy smile.

Ahh, so this is the part a lot of you maggots are waiting for. Drooling like the dweebs you are in anticipation of your boy Marf running down fellow basterd Bobby Bourbon. Well guess what fuck sticks, I’m not going to do any such thing. Oh fuck no baby, instead I’m going to fill each and everyone of you expired smelling twats in about how lucky y’all are. Damn lucky to have both Bobby and myself in this match. Lucky that we’ll actually make it worth watching instead of another classic Flynn snoozefest. Lucky that you get to see a variety of carnage instead of Kido performing sixteen variations of the same fucking arm drag.

Marf comes dangerously close to passing out just thinking about it. Last thing we need is more god damn dreams, Christ almighty…

Each and everyone of you neck beards watching from your mommy’s basement on the television you don’t pay for are so god damn lucky both Bobby and myself are gracing this pay per view. The XWF itself is also lucky to fuckin’ have us. So let the insults fly and the downplaying of accomplishments run rampant. None of it will mean a fuckin’ thing once the fists start flying and blood starts pouring. But when it comes to Mark Flynn, Vita Valenteen, Angie Vaughn and yes even Raion Kido…well their participation in this match is simply unlucky. Oops, better luck next time, assholes.

Marf makes the grimace, rolls the thumb across the front of his throat and we fade to black.