"Vinnie. Dude.

I've been trying to get a hold of you for fuckin' weeks, bruh! Where the hell have you been?! I've been trying to make my return to the XWF after taking down Ghost Tits, at you're demand, and have been looking for a way back in! Calypso doesn't just show up to a show, nadda mean? What have you been up to lately, anyway? I see you're carrying around that new Federweight Title... What's it all about? Still chasing around whatever you can get your hands on huh? That's cool. Maybe someday you'll grow some cajones and use up that Universal Title shot. That's what the bitches really want man. Not just the fame and the fortune, not just the glam superstar, but the power that goes with all of that. How much power you got sitting off to the side while the Universal Title's being defended right in front of you?

That'd be like sitting on the couch watching some dude pound, Roxy. If you don't know what that's like, would you? That bitch is sexy.

Just 'joshin'-ya... I wouldn't do that to my bro.

What I would do is take that Federweight Title from you though. Talk about making an impact! Calypso defeats the feared and unstoppable monster, Ghost Tank! Then returns after an extended minor rib injury to defeat 'Loverboy' Vinnie Lane for the XWF's newest and crudest titles! Sounds like an XWF Hall of Fame documentary waiting to happen. If I wasn't so dehydrated from partying all last night, I'd shed a tear.

So grab hold of you balls through those leather pants, give 'em a squeeze, and let me hear a battle cry Partyboy.

Keep that asshole tight."

[[[ Calypso does a shooting star press that misses Vinnie by an entire mile. The impact of Calypso hitting the ground made a book shelf that was full of old porn magazines fall onto Vinnie. Calypso crawls over and lies on top of the bookshelf on top of the champ. ]]]

"Vinnie, it's Calypso again."

"Dude, it's seriously been ages. Why won't you call me back? This has gone on long enough... If I wasn't hosting a sex party up at my cabin up in Holiday Valley, I'd totally fly my ass down to Tampa and kick your ass."

"That's right, you heard me right."

"Sex party!"

"The bitches are going to crawl ALL over Calypso that night. And guess what? It's ALLL women coming bro! Not like last time where those dudes showed up. It sucked because I love the party-vibe and they loved my appletini's... But the dick/puss ratio was getting a little to close to zero there. Something had to be done..."

"Anyway, bro. What the hell? You couldn't have been THAT busy lately. Hell, you haven't even defended this Federweight title in how long?? Who was even the last guy to try?! You've had it WAY too easy, bruh. I think it's time you had that title over to me and let Calypso take a few cracks at it. Ain't nobody a better shit talkin-mofo like Calypso man, you should know that!"

"But hey, jokes aside, seriously. I'm coming to Tampa next week. We're going to a couple of clubs. I'll even pay for a couple of hoes, or dudes, whatever you're into now.. Seriously I wonder because we haven't spoken in months... and you're still glamming it up like a Billy Idol fan club president. Sure that dude got a lot of babes back in the day, but you can't tell me no one ever questioned if that dude enjoyed a little dick lollipop every so often. Man.... Don't tell me your a Peter Piper now too... Please don't dude. Please."

"Well, on the bright side, if you have steered away from the beauty that you make sit at home 47 weeks outta the year, maybe Calypso could take her out on the town for a couple spins around the city? Maybe a helicopter ride across the bay? Or perhaps dinner or maybe sex on the beach? It's up to her, bruh. If she needs someone there all the time to make her feel like the lady that she is, I'm yo man."

"Now, gimme that title, bruh."

[[[ Calypso pulls out his phone and begins Googling things to eat while in Tampa and Roxy's picture was the first thing that popped up.]]]

"Hot damn!"

[[[ Calypso reaches into his pants slowly and is still pinning Vinnie. ]]]

Calypso? You're still around? Dude, I didn't even recognize you without a set of balls on your chin.

Dude, look, that number I gave you was a fake. It was actually Frodo's that I got from the bathroom wall.

We're cool and all, man, don't get me wrong, but if you keep trying to jack my shit and feel up my fiancee, I will fucking end you. Listen to me. I'm not Ghost Tank. If you were in the ring against me that night, you'd still be tasting the metal of that meat hook from how far up your ass I'd have stuffed it.

You're the least athletic thing to happen to the XWF since Gator's baby daddy Daren Dangerous, and that dude retired after they had to cut his foot off from diabetes. The vacuum between your thighs where men are supposed to have a penis makes you walk bow legged like you just got dropped off by the Bang Bus. If you spent half as much time working out and training as you do manscaping the seven chest hairs you've managed to cultivate over the course of your... 40? 50? Years of life, you might have a chance to take Scully's new Boom Boom Belt away from him... but this one? The Federweight? That shit's mine, dude.

By the way, dipshit, I don't live in Tampa anymore. Tell your Top to take the blindfold off of you every now and then so you can watch some of promos. Maybe if you do that you'll see how hopelessly outmatched you are, not to mention see what an adult male's body is supposed to look like when it hasn't been raised on a diet of Funyuns and suicidal depression.

Because you seem like a generally good guy, man, I'm going to give you advice that might get you laid by a desperate redneck while you're down in the Florida sun.

Step one, dude, go get a tan before you actually become translucent.

Step two, get your hand off of my cock and stop trying to harvest my sperm. It's creepy and anyway, Morbid Angel lied to you. Rubbing it onto your face doesn't keep your skin looking young and vibrant.

Step three? Get the fuck off of me. You lose, you gaping sphincter of a man, you.

Loverboy kicks out, flipping the bookcase over and onto the scrawny body of Calypso.

Before wandering off with his belt over his shoulder, he grabs a couple of the nicer pornos from the floor.

"Frodo's number? That explains a few strange voicemails I've got back after trying to reach you a few times... But, whatevs. If you don't wanna be homies then fine. It's cool, bruh."

"It's also cool that you're pretty much a pathological liar too. Either that or you're just a complete dick. I don't know what I ever did to you, bruh, but pretending to befriend me and shit, that's low. Why would I take advice from a dude who lies to me about his phone number, lies to me about where he lives, and basically calls me the ugliest muh fucker to ever step into the XWF. I don't even know who that Darren Dangerous dude is, but take it easy man. I can't get a tan, I have a small allergy to the sun. That's why I was wearing that scarf and wide cowboy hat the last time you seen me. That sun just breaks me out and may entire body looks like what 'Lane Mountain' looks like after one round of wack-a-mole with your porn-hunny."

"And what makes you think I'm forty or fifty? I'm twenty-nine dude. The receding hair line is a common feature in the Calypso-family, so lay off, bruh. Nah, I'm joshin' ya again, ha ha, I'm totally forty. Still in my prime though! At least I admit my faults and my age to the public and still dance the night away no matter what. Unlike you, pal. While you were lying there on the ground I could see behind your hair line, under that gay little blonde wig you're wearing now. Why not just go bald dude? Clean up that mess up there and get with the times. Bald is beautiful bro. Along with it maybe you could get out of the the 80's school girl rock pop bullshit and play some real fucking music. ."

"Was my hand down your pants? I'm sorry, Calypso thought he was pulling on his own wagon there... Mistaken identity, I suppose. No wonder nothing was going on while looking at the pic of your hunny."

[[[ Calypso hits Vinnie with "The Clap" and pins him!! ]]]

How could you possibly mistake my glorious member for yours, dude? Mine has an elegant left hand curve right around the seven inch mark, just as it begins to taper. Yours? Well, dude, let's just say whenever you run around in those floppy Bermuda shorts we can all see you brought a .22 to the gun range.

Calypso, dude, listen, I called you ugly because you're ugly. Real friends don't sugar coat the truth, man. You want me to fluff you up like Theo and Samuels before they spit roast Madison? If I did that, and you somehow managed to land a date from Craigslist or something, it would just end up breaking your bacon grease-clogged heart when your 60 dollar an hour girlfriend can't fake being into you during the small talk she has to come up with while trying to get Little Calypso going.

Does a mother bird toss her baby out of the nest before he's ready? No. Can I have a healthy conscience knowing I let Calypso leave this room today thinking he doesn't look like a photoshopped picture of a human face with a rectal prolapse over it? No. It's fucking irresponsible, man.

You sound way too desperate to get other dudes in your Hair Club For Men lifestyle, dude. It's not cool. It's not sexy. You don't look like a modern warrior, you look like a neo nazi with AIDS. AIDS and cancer. And maybe lupus. Although it turns out that my natural handsomeness extends even to the perfectly symmetrical arcs and curves of my cranium, the "just got treated for lice" look isn't for me, man. You can corner that market all you want, in the meantime I'll just be adorning my admittedly beautiful scalp with the finest crafted wigs money can buy. Gotta respect Locks of Love, man, they're doing good work.

Are we done here, man? Even a brain dead clown like you should realize he doesn't have what it takes to pin me, dude. Maybe you should have started smaller, like that slope-brow, Justin Sane?

Loverboy kicks out at one, because the Clap is a shitty move.

Apparently the Clap isn't such a shitty move because Vinnie kicks out after Dick E. counts to 3!

Winner and NEW Federweight champion: Calypso

Dick E. waves his hands mystically in front of his face and then grumbles about them both being .