This probably won't end up on a tv show. No, things like this normally don't because there are certain people who don't want things like this aired. A sea of unsuspecting Xtreme Wrestling Federation fans fill a house show arena, and rightfully so. XWF is where all the action is, right? Signs littered the arena. "STEVEDAVIDS". "SUCK MY DICK". You know there ARE some Gilly fans out there. Said crowd was ready to see the likes of Azrael. The likes of Sebastian Duke. Eli James IV. But never did they expect what they would get as "O Fortuna" by Therion hit the speakers, the sound system crackling to life. No jumbotron. The fans chanted as an angry Cain, in street clothes, stepped through the black curtains...

SON OF EDEN!

SON OF EDEN!

SON OF EDEN!

No smile from the Demon Prince. He had a chair with him, one of those cheap steel folding chairs. He wasted no time getting into the ring, and setting up the chair. He sat down, in a set of black sweats, and red bandana. His eyes flashed as he picked up a nearby microphone. He calmly made a statement.

"Cut the music."

The music was cut, but the chants never died down. He was "over". He knew this and so did management. So he wondered what the problem was? He just looked around.

"Well, listen to the people. Listen to them, and surely you will see what I already know. The fans, who pay their money to watch us, are chanting. Do you hear them, Miranda Tigris? Mystica? Paul Heyman? Giovanni Ferrari? Archie Lawson? Fuck it. Authority figures make me sick. You all sit up in your offices and you play your favorites. Favorites who are seeminglyprotected from men like me, who have made a mame for themselves elsewhere yet when it comes to making a name here..."

He looked down momentarily and shook his head. He'd been in this situation. He'd spent at least eighty years of his two thousand year life in professional wrestling. He looked up.

"You know what? I should tell you exactly what the hell I am. And I know that by doing what I am about to do, I will get the company sued. That's fine though, the douchebags in management make plenty of money off the stevedAvIDs merchandise."

"When my career began, our sport was just beginning to bloom into what it is today. There wasn't anything like roster splits. I guess you could consider wrestling as a whole back then as a regional. Anyway...I began my career in The Dungeon. From a man known as Stu Hart, I learned the fundamentals of this business. And back in the days of Stampede, men were men. Men actually won titles or accolades and had the balls to back them up. I myself had actually won the Canadian Wrestling Association Title..." he smirked. "...heh, and everytime a new challenger would come along and challenge The Demon Prince personally, I would destroy them and retain my title."

"Ya see, alot of the higher ups didn't want me fighting every man who came in looking for a title shot. Unfortunately for my bosses, I have always been a bullheaded son of a bitch. Each and everytime they tried to tell me "hey, that guy doesn't deserve a title shot", my response was "Everyone deserves a shot. Noone gets better without a chance.". So this went on for a little while, and like Andre the Giant before me, I decided to drop my title. I decided when I won and when I lost, and how. Just like some men and women who frequent this very ring."

A sigh escaped the lips of Cain.

"I dropped the title to a young Owen Hart. But after all of this winning and losing by my own choice, I realized something. There is NO pride in winning because you choose to.." He stood, pacing over to the ropes. "...because how does one truly know what it is like to win unless he loses? Why not EARN your victories? And this may sound strange coming from me, but guys, I don't find shame in losing."

"Sebastian Duke is a legend. I gave it everything I had in that fight, and I lost. But still, even knowing I may not win, I didn't back down. I fought."

"Azrael Erebus is an amazing competitor. Nothing negative to say about him. Once again, I actually went and I fought. I didn't hide behind my Alliance members."

"Morbid Angel was a monster. Some though, may say, that I came within an eyelash of defeating him. I didn't back down from the man that always wins. I FOUGHT."

"The list fucking goes on and fucking on. I could talk about Guppy Parsh. I could talk about Eli James IV. Yeah, shit, let's fucking talk about Guppy Mother Fucking Parsh. When I heard that I would be defending my belt against him, I didn't back down like a fucking pussy. I didn't hide behind Paul Heyman. Shit no. I said bring that shit on. And yes, I lost. Bit I fought like a fucking man!"

The Demon Prince...the Last Son of Eden...you could see the passion burning in his eyes. You could hear the rage in his voice, which is probably why there was security making their way down to the ring. He sneered as they climbed the steps, threatening them with his claws.

"Touch me and I'll fuckin' kill the lot of you!"

Just as security surrounded The Demon Prince,one of the General Manager's themes hit...but who?

The awesome banner was brought to you by Morbid Fuckin Angel.

OOC: Any chance you can change your red writing to something more readable. It's hard to read, and you do great writing. Just asking.

"Is someone throwing their toys out of the pram because they keep losing matches? Awww isn't that cute?

There are Steve Davids fans littered around the arena? Last time I checked I was getting jeered left, right and center. You idiot.

And when did Mystica join the management team?

Demonic Pipe Bomb? I think it's closer to Moronic Pipe Bomb."

3x Xtreme Champion
1x Briefcase Holder
1x Television Champion
1x Universal Champion

"How about you come down to the ring and say that?"

"Hell, at least I did get off my ass and try to generate heat. What have you done? Try to get EJ pissed off by sleeping with Sami? Prick."

The disembodied voice of SteveDavids made no comment and meanwhile, the fans began to chant.

On of Eden!

De-mon Prince!

De-mon Prince!

"Yeah. You get jeered, Davids. Because homestly, you suck more dick than Maria Brinks' Aids. The difference? The Aids does it's dirty work itself. You? Well, you just sit in the back and talk shit. Soooo..."


Ooc: People make mistakes Steve. Sorry.

The awesome banner was brought to you by Morbid Fuckin Angel.

"Cain...

Me, you... at the Pay Per View.

One on One...

What do you say?"

3x Xtreme Champion
1x Briefcase Holder
1x Television Champion
1x Universal Champion

(07-17-2014, 08:29 AM)SteveDavids Said: "Cain...

Me, you... at the Pay Per View.

One on One...

What do you say?"

"Yes. Ignoring the comment from lazy pothead."

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(07-17-2014, 10:35 PM)Griffin MacAlister Said: Seems legit. That sounds exactly like me and coincides with not only how I carry myself in this federation but it also fits the criteria of everything I've ever said ever. Holy fuck! It's like Frodo's reciting thoughts right outta my mind! He's like some sorta pint sized psychic! God damn! How does he do it?

Because he's Frodo Smackins and he can do anything!

Except beat Peter Gilmour, that is. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Oh, and fuck you Grif. You're a or something and Peter Gilmour has more fans than you because that counts for something after all. But no seriously fuck you Grif. You a bitch yo.