X-treme Wrestling Federation

A sunny afternoon in Los Angeles.

The backdrop of the Hollywood hills would be enough to send even the most down on their luck cynic into fits of starry-eyed dreams for success and celebrity. Here though, away from the glitz and glamour of Sunset Boulevard or Malibu, the scene is more or less something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. Fields of amber grass, clear blue skies, and a slowly rolling locomotive chugging along across an ageless set of tracks.

It might pass as a calming, idyllic scene of classic Americana if not for the two hairsprayed and spandexed blonds sprinting across the landscape like bullets from a gun.

“Hurry Roxy, we’re not going to get to the open car before it reaches the bridge!”

“I’m coming Vinnie! It’s these big heels!”

“What? Take them off, Jesus!”

Roxy stumbles forward yet somehow nimbly manages to remove the pair of spiked stiletto heels without falling on her face. She is still a step or two behind the ever-quick “Loverboy” Vinnie Lane, even with the weight of several duffel bags weighing him down.

“Almost there baby! Just a little more!”

“I don’t think I can run much farther, Vinnie!”

“Come on, you can do it, Roxy!”

Finally, Loverboy gets even with the train as it inexorably runs closer and closer to the raised trestle. With little to no time to spare, he throws the bags from his shoulders and swings them into the open doorway of the boxcar. With a burst of speed, Loverboy leaps to the entrance and pulls himself into the car, rolling onto his side and leaning back out into the open air, extending his arms to Roxy as she tries to catch up.

“Roxy! Run baby!”

Loverboy dips his head down once, then again, as Roxy’s shoes fly by his face just inches from his forehead.

“Good girl, now RUN!”

Loverboy leans out a bit further, gripping the edge of the boxcar door as an anchor, and stretches his slender arm into the breeze created by the train’s passage as far as he can. Roxy manages to close the gap with a last ditch effort and hurls herself forward, landing with her torso wrapped in Loverboy’s arm but with her feet hanging outside of the train, her toes grazing the grass and gravel of the ground below.

“Pull me in, baby!”

“Shit… I’ve got you. Hold on!”

With a strained grunt, Loverboy lurches and twists his body, pulling Roxy on top of him inside of the train car. They lay there breathing heavily for a moment, just holding on to one another, until finally the fear and anxiety of the moment dissipates and they both start laughing away the stress.

“Wow… that really was – INSANE!”

“Oh shut up, you little minx! I just saved you from becoming a ten mile long streak of red across Los Angeles County.”

“You did. You’re my white knight, just like always baby.”

Roxy bends her head down to Loverboy’s and they kiss for a long moment while the sound of the train’s wheels clanging against the tracks echoes through the car. Loverboy runs his hand through the long strands if Roxy’s platinum hair, and stops when he finds a straw of hay among the flaxen locks.

“What the?”

“What is it, Vinnie?”

“Hay… holy crap there’s actually hay in here…”

The two look around them for the first time and laugh again as they see their surroundings. The wood paneled car is slatted on the sides and its floor is covered with a thin layer of barnyard hay. Troughs for livestock sit in a corner, and the walls have several places for chains or restraints to be attached.

“This is like, the most cliché thing I think I’ve ever done, babe. And I dress up like an 80’s rock star for a living.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah... like, every old movie has people jumping onto train cars just like we did, and it’s always into boxcars full of hay. What the fuck?”

The two dust themselves off and pluck the hayseeds from their clothing, then Roxy stands and walks to retrieve her shoes. Finding a relatively clean part of the floor, she sits back down and goes through the process of strapping the shoes back onto her pretty little feet. Loverboy follows suit, gathering the bags he’d thrown into the train haphazardly into a neat gathering against a wall, then settling down next to his girl, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she rests her head against him.

“This was a really good idea, Roxy.”

“Yeah? You don’t hate it?”

“No way, dude. This is really nice. Like, as much as I love being the center of attention that I have been for so long, that spotlight starts to burn after a while, you know? Something like this, away from the craziness of life as a megastar, away from the crowds and all the BS in the locker rooms, away from the boys and their stupid games, just you and me, it’s great. Honestly. I’m happier right now in this moment than I ever thought I could be, baby, and it’s because of you.”

“Oh Vinnie… I love you so much.”

“I love you too, doll. That’s why I wanted to go ahead and ask you something.”

“Anything, baby, you know I tell you everything.”

Loverboy shifts and moves in front of Roxy, kneeling on one knee and reaching into a pocket inside of his denim jacket to reveal a small felt box. Opening it with a quiet click, Loverboy holds the box in front of him, inches away from the look of pure shock and surprise on Roxy’s face.

“Baby, you and me have been through so much in the last few months. From the first second I saw you I knew you were exactly what you really are – my angel from heaven, sent to be by my side for the rest of my life. With you, I can’t ever lose, baby, no matter what happens in the ring or anywhere else. Every single night I go to sleep a winner, and I wake up happier and happier every single morning.”

“Oh… oh, Vinnie…”

Roxy’s eyes quiver with wetness, and finally spill over onto her smiling cheeks as she covers her mouth with shaking hands, staring at the large carat diamond in the box Loverboy is holding.

“Baby, if you would do me the absolutely fucking awesome honor of marrying me, I’d be the happiest man on the face of the Earth until my dying day. Baby, will you –“

“YES! Oh, fuck, yes I will totally marry you, Vinnie!”

Roxy throws herself into Loverboy, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and covering his face and neck with a deluge of kisses. When she finally pulls herself away and wipes the tears of joy from her face, Loverboy takes her hand and slides the ring onto her left ring finger. She holds the hand up to her eye level and smiles a sunbeam bright enough to light the darkest rooms.

“This is the best day of my entire life, Vinnie.”

"Mine too, baby. No matter what happens tomorrow night in Little Rock, I won this week.”

The train rolls on.




Hey Justin.

How’s it been, man?

I wanted to take the opportunity just now to let you know that you’ve been pretty damn impressive this week, dude.

Seriously.

I mean, here you are, in WAY over your head, but would you ever be able to tell that from looking at you? No way, dude. As scared as you are, as nervous as you absolutely must be going into a surefire loss in front of millions of people at Madness, you are as cool as the other side of the pillow.

I mean, did you lose your religion a bit when that gold digger of yours bought you that cheap ass Hot Topic Halloween costume that looked like a dollar store version of me? Maybe a little bit, man, but I’m sure that had nothing to do with you knowing you didn’t stand a chance against me. I’m sure the fact that you know deep down, in the back of your mind, that you simply can’t match me move for move, punch for punch, had nothing to do with you stomping off like a chick who showed up to prom wearing the same dress as her ex-boyfriend’s newer, hotter girl.

And did you maybe have a little schizo moment there, like you used to pretend to do back in the early days of your XWF career? You know, two, three weeks ago? Yeah, sure, maybe, but I’m pretty convinced that it had nothing to do with the subconscious knowledge that you were only a day or two away from an ass kicking you never imagined could happen. Not you, Justin, no way. You’re cool, just like I said you were. You’re smooth, collected, barely a tremble of the fingers or a twitch of the eye from you.

Such a brave face you wear for the sake of the crowds, Justin! All those people out there who paid their hard earned cash to watch the new sensation make a name for himself. You’ve got a brand new relationship, a girl who REALLY wants you to bring home that winner’s purse every week, you know? And I’m sure your family is watching. Mom and dad? Brothers and sisters? Dude, if I were you, and I knew I was about to break that many hearts of people who loved me and counted on me, there’d be absolutely no way I could hold it together the way you have in your vignettes this week, man. Bravo, man, bravo.

Dude, I tried to shake your confidence, for sure. I sent out tweets for my fans like this one.




Or this one.



Or even this one.



Just because I knew that, even though there’d be no way anyone could ever tell, you’d be wondering what I was thinking and feeling going into the match.

What else would I be thinking and feeling, Justin? I feel secure. I feel confident. I feel like a WINNER, because that’s what I am, dude. I don’t call myself a megastar just because I’m full of myself, just because I get women you’ve only ever seen in magazines throwing their panties at me every time I get on a stage or in a ring, or even just because I’ve held multiple titles in the XWF – I say it because it’s the truth. I’m not bragging when I call myself a main attraction, dude, it just is what it is. You see my name in lights because I’m a megastar. You see me listed as a contender because I’m a megastar. I’ll be on top of the XWF and raising the Universal Title over my head sooner than later… because… I’m… a… megastar.

No knock on you though, dude, you’re right where you should be. You’re on track for a hell of a career. You know how I know? Because you remind me of me, dude. You remind me of me before I was ready for the big time. Before I was good enough to take on the big dogs. You know what I mean, Justin? Well, of course you do, you’re living that roller coaster of emotions as we speak. You’re SO CLOSE, dude, just not quite there, you know? Like an Olympic athlete, you’re poised and ready to grab that brass ring you’ve been training for your entire life, ready to feel that tape split in two across your chest as you finally cross that finish line you’ve had your eye on for so many years.

The thing is though, dude, not everyone can just go out there and win that first race, you know? Not everyone can be like me and hit the ground running from the very start, leave a trail of destruction everywhere they go and carve a name for themselves in the record books. It’s nothing to feel bad about, man, seriously. There has to be a second place, or first place doesn’t matter. You can’t have winners without there being losers, and that’s okay.

Justin, dude, this is your highlight. This is IT for your career up until now, man. This… is your silver medal moment. And when I’m done winning the gold I’ll be right there to pick you back up onto your feet and remind you that just because you aren’t as good as me doesn’t mean you’re bad.

It just means you aren’t ready.

Not yet.

I’ll make sure you get the credit you deserve after Madness, dude, trust me. I’m a good guy, and you earned my respect with that false bravado and that poker face. You’ve got something that a lot of guys never get – a taste of the limelight. And like I said man, it isn’t your fault that you’ll look bad Monday night. No one gets in a ring with me and looks good.

I just feel so good that you gave me the chance to teach you all these lessons, man. It really means a lot.

See you Monday, dude.