X-treme Wrestling Federation

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Gilmour Classic/Kevin Steen
Triple H
John Cena

FADE IN:

Hilton Garden Inn, just around the corner from DFW Airport. Gilmour Classic is wandering the halls trying to find his hotel room. He's got his rolling suitcase in one hand and his itinerary and hotel key in the other. He opens the door to his room, flips the light switch, and throws his belongings on the bed. GC is about to lay down to relax when he hears a voice come from behind him. The uninvited visitor startles him. He turns around and sees that it's TRIPLE H FUCKING MARIA BRINK IN THE ASS! (kidding, sadistically)

"Good afternoon, Kevin."

"What the-- Triple H-- what are you doing here? I think you have the wrong room. I'm Peter Gilmour."

"Cut the crap. I don't know what kind of kooky b.s. you're up to in XWF but I want no part of it."

"Umm okay. What the hell are you doing in my room? Did that

Frodo send you to try and rape me or something?"

"No, shut up. I'm here to offer you a WWE contract."

"Fuck you. I'm not gonna sell out to the McMahons."

(Shows Kevin/GC the contract) "Come again?"

(Jaw dropping) "Whoa, is that what he's gonna pay me?! Get the fuck out!"

"Fine, I'll leave. You're not worth the trouble anyway."

"Wait, that's not what I meant Mr. Helmsley. Or should I say Mr. Levesque (winks sadistically)."

"So do you want this?"

"Yes. Sadly, my contract with XWF is iron clad, but I can pull double duty. After all I am the King of Wrestling!"

"Well, Steen, or Gilmour, or whatever the fuck you call yourself, I should add that there are some stipulations in this contract that you'll need to adhere to if you want to be a WWE superstar."

"Fuck you, I'm not letting anyone rape me! No gay stips or fake accounts! I'm not gonna go to WWE just so I can get fucked in the ass by Hornswoggle! I've had it with these

dwarves!"

"What the hell are you talking about? Are you a fucking idiot? This is the second time you've brought up rape and we've only been talking for ten minutes. NO ONE is going to rape you, okay?"

"Fine, then what are the stipulations?"

"Well, here's the thing. I see something in you but Vince doesn't. First thing you need to do is drop about 100 pounds. You're pretty fat and disgusting to look at right now. After that, we're going to have you train one on one with John Cena so he can teach you how to properly wrestle. I saw your work in ROH and that shit looked terrible. Then I watched you in XWF and you improved a lot. I want you to forget about all that crap you did in ROH and focus on being Gilmour Classic."

"Fine, anything else?"

"Yeah, there's one more thing..."

[Image: tumblr_lg3z9tXCGj1qzh0wto1_250.gif]

"The champ... is... HERE!"

"What the fuck is HE doing here?! Get that

out of my room!"

"That's no way to talk to your new trainer, Kevin. Or do you prefer to be called Gilmour?"

"My name IS Gilmour. Get it right you

! It's that fucking fake Gilly running around tricking people into thinking that I'm this Kevin Steen moron. And John Cena is my trainer? So lame..."

"But you... oh forget it. If you are the real Peter Gilmour then you are the real Peter Gilmour. You're the one with the big WWE contract now so that settles the 'who's the real Gilly' controversy."

(Leaving) "Alright, John. You have fun with Steen or whatever he's called, and good luck to the both of you."

"Alright, Kevin/Gilmour. I'm here to rescue your wrestling career. For the next nine months, you work for me. I hear you've been stuck in the indies for five years now? Not making much money, are you? Having to live in the basement of your floating head of a mother? How does that make you feel?"

"Fuck you! Those matches that I had with Barney Green, Bryce and Mr. Radio were CLASSICS! And STOP CALLING ME KEVIN!"

"Alright, Gilmour. Let me ask you a question. Do you honestly believe that any of those matches you had were good? Are you really gonna sit there and try to convince me that you've had a good run since you started in XWF?"

"I beat the European Champion not that long ago bitch!"

"European Champion, huh? And who holds that title now?"

"No one..."

"My point exactly!"

(Upset) "I guess it's just been a tough couple of years. The only people I could beat were Bryce, and now that I'm back and actually winning for once, there's this other FAKE Gilly running around pretending to be me. And to top it all off, Fatback and Ezekiel's AIDS got all up in my former fiance, Maria Brink, and gave her AIDS and obesity. And she's also married to that FAKE Gilmour! BAH! It's so frustrating."

"It's okay, Gilly. We're gonna work together to get your career on track. We have nine months to get you up and running. Literally, we need to get you running so you're not fat and disgusting. Now tell me about this 'fake Gilly.' Who is he and what does he want?"

"Like I said he's running around, acting like a

, and pretending to be me. He's a disgrace to true evil! In fact, all of these fake Gilly accounts are a disgrace! Like, look at this new one who's pretending to be me from my oldschool days. His name is FROST. He stole my old look, damn it! He stole it and is trying to make money off the name that I spent years building! That's infringement!"

"Hmm. This fake Gilly stuff sounds like a BIG problem. Why haven't you done anything to fix it?"

"I've been busy with my wedding, which totally sucked by the way, and other matches."

"Look at me, Gilmour. I don't embrace excuses, I embrace solutions. Do you want to be a fat joke or do you want to headline Wrestlemania?"

"I want to headline Wrestlemania!"

"Good! So what are you gonna do about that fake piece of shit Gilly who's causing you trouble?!"

"I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL HIM! AHHHHHHH!"

Gilmour Classic punts John Cena in the chest, hooks both arms, and gives him a demonic pile driver on the carpet floor. He gets back up and laughs wickedly as a fire starts beneath his feet.