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Justin Sane · **12-27-2014, 12:04 PM**

24th December 2014 – 11:32am || Sane Residence || Colorado Springs, CO

:: I run my fingers over the smooth glass that shelters the picture of myself as a young child, sitting on Santa Claus' knee. I remember what it was like to be a kid, how simple everything was. If I knew then what I know now, I would never have ended every screaming match with my parents with “I can't wait to be a grown up so I can do whatever I want!”. Naivety. It's funny, you spend your whole childhood wanting to be an adult, then spend most of your adult life thinking about how you would give almost anything to just be a kid again. No problems, no responsibilities. My fingertips move from the glass to the hard, grainy wood which makes up the picture frame. I drop my hand slowly to my side and allow my gaze to pan around the room, taking in the rest of my surroundings. I see more pictures of myself at various ages, some with my parents and others with extended family. The house is so quiet. My parents have gone out for a few hours to get lunch and some supplies for tomorrow, and Michelle has taken the two Huskies for a walk. I walk over to the blue velvet 2-seater lounge that sits facing the large windows that separate the living area from the deck outside. I take a seat and stare out the window, watching the snowflakes weightlessly drift to the ground and come to rest as part of a vast covering of white, powdery snow. I turn my attention to the coffee table in front of me, or more specifically, the video camera that rests upon it. I figured I should make the most of my time alone and address my upcoming match at Madfare. I grab the remote beside me and click the record button, watching intently as the blistering red light turns into a glow of neon green. I set the remote down and lean back on the sofa. ::

“You know, I was wondering how I should start this weeks episode of InSane TV. Do I talk about Christmas? About what a wonderful time of year it is.. how it's a chance for us all to spend time with our loved ones and remember what is really important in life? Or do I wind the clock back two weeks when I last appeared on Madness, defeating Mastermind and Ethan Donovan in a three way dance? Like any other result was ever a possibility. Or perhaps I should talk about the Pagoda Report? Yeah, that interview raised a few eyebrows. 'That Justin Sane kid is getting ahead of himself again' – hardly. Justin Sane just woke up one morning and realised he's the best fucking talent the XWF has got to offer, and anything less than the Universal Title is simply under achieving. But then I thought, maybe I'll start off by talking about the one thing on everybody's lips. The one thing you all want to hear about: Defiance.

I know that you all have a lot of questions. Why would I join forces with Gator? Who is corVus? What happens next? Ah, the last one is my favourite. What happens next is, you all bare witness to the most destructive force in XWF history. Don't get it twisted, I know that line has been used a thousand times before, I'm not an idiot. Difference is, when I say, it's gospel. Take Gator for example. The man is a beast – he knows exactly how to get the job done inside that ring. He's... different, sure, but when push comes to shove, you damn sure want him behind you and not in front of you. He's one of the longest reigning Television Champions in XWF history and after this Monday night, when he brings hisTV Title back to Defiance, you can rest assured, that's where it will be staying for a very, very long time.

And me? Well, you are all finding out very quickly just what Justin Sane is capable of. In the past month, I have beaten Hysteria. I've beaten Scully. I've beaten Vinnie Lane, and I destroyed Ethan Donovan and Mastermind. I am on a roll like nobody else right now, and the scary thing for everyone in that locker room, is that I am just getting started. Don't mistake my confidence for arrogance, I am simply telling you the way it is. I'm gunning for that Universal Championship, and whether it's six weeks or six months, I promise you that it is simply a matter of time. This week is just another opportunity for me to prove that I am the true big time player in these parts, when I take out four other men to officially become the #1 Contender to the Television Championship. Of course, I won't be cashing in that opportunity, as Defiance will already hold the belt. Still, I'll get to that later.

Then, there's CorVus. Well, I'm sure the Asylum didn't see that one coming, did they? None of you did. If it was any more perfect, that stupid fuck Xavier Swann would have been trying to attach his name to it. You see, there's a lot of mystique surrounding the third cornerstone of Defiance. After he single-handedly took out five members of the Asylum on Madness, everybody wants to know more. Who is he? What's his story? Why is he here? Well, the truth is, you're all going to have to wait just a little bit longer. Don't worry, all will be explained in due course. What I will say, is that CorVus is unlike anything you have ever seen here in the XWF. If you thought what he did to the Asylum was impressive? Just wait. You haven't seen anything yet.

So then, the big question. What brought us together? Same thing that usually binds men of different creeds – a common goal. Each of us has had to deal with the Asylum. Each of us feel that in order to obtain our end game, we must first break down the barriers that stand between us and the finish line. Here in the XWF, like it or not, there is strength in numbers. As individuals, we were capable.. but as one unit, we are fucking unstoppable. The Asylum will perish before your very eyes, and whatever resistance they offer will be futile. There is no stopping Defiance.. we will take what is rightfully ours, everything that we deserve, and whoever gets in our way, one by one they will fall.”

:: I reach down beside the camera and grab the open beer that sits idly on the table. I take a swig and the refreshing amber liquid slides down my throat and settles in my stomach. I lean forward, looking into the camera, elbows on my knees and my beer clenched in both hands. ::

“Which brings me to this Monday night, on Madfare. Four more men that stand between me and my quest for greatness. Four unfortunate souls who woke up full of festive spirit on Tuesday morning, only to check the card and see that their fate had been sealed. Sorry to ruin your Christmas, lads, but you're stepping into the ring with the franchise player – leaving said ring in one piece is not an option. Here's what you all need to understand: I don't lose. Since I dropped the ball and lost the TV Title match and was unsuccessful in the King of the Ring tournament, I am undefeated. This past month, I have been untouchable. Just ask one of the punk kids you will be sharing the ring with this week, Ethan Donovan.

Ethan, last week I showed you that you simply don't belong in the same ring as Justin Sane. You're so far beneath me that if I took a piss on your head, it would take three weeks to hit you. Some of you guys just don't seem to get the message, honestly. I mean, in what world do you take a beating like the one I gave you last week and then come back for more just two weeks later? Are you really that fucking stupid? I think your vampire slut has too tight a grip on your balls man, because clearly you aren't thinking straight. I can appreciate the fact that you see this as a big opportunity. This is your chance to become the number one contender for the Television title and instantly give your career the shot in the ass it so desperately needs. But this is not the time, nor is it the place. Do yourself a favour, kid.. wait until my name isn't sitting above yours on that card, because when it is, the result is a foregone conclusion.

And speaking of punk kids, who in the hell is this grunge mother fucker with the daddy issues who keeps complaining that he got beat up by an old woman, long ago, in a company that nobody gives a fuck about? Oh that's right, Adrian Storms. I guess the XWF will hand out #1 contendership matches to just about anyone these days. I mean, honestly rookie, what have you done since you've been here? Beat James Shelby? I don't even know who the fuck that is. You sure as hell couldn't get the job done against Cain at Shove-It, so what makes you think you stand any kind of chance against the likes of me? You're just another nobody who blows into town, slings off at the jaw for a couple of weeks and then disappears, forgotten instantly. Take it from me, Storms, the best thing you can do this Monday night is stay in your cabin in the woods and rock yourself back and forth to sleep while you relive the memories of your parents' murder. That would be far better than the unspeakable pain I am going to inflict upon you once that bell rings. As harsh as this might sound, I'm glad you've experienced mass murder in some way during your short life, because this Monday night will be nothing shy of that.. and I'll be the one pulling the trigger.”

:: I smirk into the camera and I bring the beer back to my lips and throw my head back, draining the remainder of the bottle. I set the empty down on the table and wipe my mouth with the back of my right hand, before continuing. ::

“Then there's Tony Santos. Seems you and I have at least one thing in common, Santos, we were both eliminated in the third round of the King of the Ring tournament. Unfortunately for you, that's where the similarities end. You see, while your best is far behind you, I am yet to hit my peak. Will I do so this Monday night on Madfare? I doubt it, but then, I don't have to. Every single week, I get a little bit better, and every single week, that will be enough. Don't get me wrong Santos, you've accomplished a lot here. You have one hell of a reputation in that locker room for getting shit done, but believe me when I tell you, your reputation means fuck all to me. I don't care who you are, or what you've done. I care about one thing – me. It doesn't matter to me what you do in that ring, because it will never be enough.. I am the beast at the top of the food chain, whether anyone else around here cares to admit it or not. With you, Santos, there is nothing personal. I'm not here to land a bunch of cheap shots, or dig up anything from your past. This is strictly business, and I truly am sorry that you have found yourself on the wrong end of a fatal transaction.

But that leaves one man, and this time? It's very personal. Ghost Tank, you have got to be the most annoying, worthless, under-achieving piece of shit to ever open his mouth around here. I am sick to death of you and the rest of those freak show fucks in the Asylum slinging their jaws week in and week out. You do so, not even realising just how fucking stupid you all sound. Someone in your damn playgroup gets a win and you all come out in force preaching about your stupid higher power, but let's look at the facts, shall we? You guys lose more matches than the Buccaneers do ball games. And you want to call yourself dominant? Please. The last time you were on a true winning team, Tank, was when I carried your ass at War Games.

Oh, that's right, you were the MVP weren't you? My bad. Why don't you tell us again for the ten thousandth time how you single-handedly took out three men by busting down the wall of a steel cage? I'm sure we'd all love to reminisce with you. Honestly, you are so fucking stupid it's not funny. Here's a news flash for you, GT. The day after War Games, nobody gave a fuck about you stupidly putting yourself through a cage. It wasn't in the headlines. Nobody was talking about it. You know what they were talking about? They were talking about how Justin Sane made Azrael Erebus take the Pledge of Insanity and scored the pin fall victory over one of the biggest names in this company. That was me – not you. You know what else I did? I kicked Eli James' teeth so far down his throat, he was biting his own ass. Again, that was me – not you.

So explain to me, GT, how in the hell were you the MVP? Either you got those neon green braids rolled to tight, or you're just a flat out fucking

. My guess would be the latter. I have been waiting for a long time to get my hands on you, to shut you up once and for all. Week after week, I make the challenge, and week after week, you keep ducking me. Well guess what, Tank? There's nowhere left to run. At Madfare, I will lay waste to every other man in this match, just so I can take my time picking you apart and proving to the world once and for all that what happened at War Games was in no part thanks to you. It was all me.. and I had written that ending long before the match had even started. I was smart.. I had a plan. Just like two weeks ago on Madness, when Defiance stood tall against the Asylum, I had a plan.. and guess what? This week, I had a plan too.

Don't you think it's a little odd, GT, that even though I was already the rightful number one contender for the Television Title, I wasn't in the title match? Why on earth should I have to compete in a number one contenders match when I already own that spot? Seems stupid, but the reality of it all is, it's pure genius. I declined the offer to be part of that TV Title match. I knew you were going to be competing for the number one contendership, so in order to make sure you couldn't duck me again, I had MacClay book me in it. I knew that your lust for gold, for adulation, would ensure that you would take part in this match. Truth is, I don't give a fuck about the TV Title. My boy, Gator, has that shit covered. I only wanted one thing, and now, I've got it.

This Monday night, I will leave with a #1 contendership that I have no intention of using, but more than that, I will leave with your blood on my hands. Go ahead, Tank, just ask Azrael what I am capable of. Ask Hysteria. At Madfare, one more member of the Asylum takes the Pledge of Insanity and that, Ghost Tank, will be a true act.. of Defiance.”

:: I chuckle wickedly as I pick up the remote and switch the video recorder off. ::

25th December – 12:42pm || Sane Residence || Colorado Springs, CO

:: I sit there on the left side of the large, rectangular, oak dining table. Michelle sits beside me, looking extremely cute in a Santa's little helper dress, complete with a Santa hat. At the head of the table is my old man, dressed ever-so-casually in half-unbuttoned pale blue shirt and black jeans, and just to his left is Mom, wearing a floral print dress and just removing the apron she had been wearing for the past few hours. The last person at the table was my nan. She's 78.. or 79, something like that. I don't remember. Pop died a few years ago – freak pogo stick accident, don't ask. The seat at the other end of the table is empty. I look at the spread before me on the table and inhale through my nose, taking in all the delicious smells emanating from the Christmas feast. The old man stands up at the end of the table and clears his throat, as Michelle grabs my hand. ::

“Just before we eat, I want to say how great it is to be able to spend Christmas with you all. I know there are only few of us this year, but it's the quality of people you share these special days with that matters most. I'm thankful that my son could be here, and I'm extremely glad that his gorgeous partner could join us on such short notice. Hopefully she becomes a welcome addition to the family for many years to come. Now, let's eat.”

:: Michelle smiles at my father, who returns in kind, before turning to me and flashing her pearly whites. Her grip on my hand tightens as she leans in and kisses me softly on the lips. I smile, and brush her fringe out of her eyes with my other hands. ::

“Come on, let's eat.”

:: There's a lot of clattering as plates are passed around and filled with various roast meats and vegetables. I am actually so content in this moment, sharing Christmas lunch with my family, and with Michelle. I wasn't sure if she would want to come for Christmas, we haven't exactly been together long. Turns out she had exchanged words with her mother a few days ago though, so she wasn't planning on going home anyway. That suited me just fine. After a couple of minutes, everybody has filled their plates and are happily chatting away. My mom reaches over and pours Michelle a glass of red wine, as dad throws me a fresh beer. I crack it and sit it on the table beside me as mum sparks up some conversation. ::

“So, Michelle.. how did you and Justin meet?”

“Mom..”

“Grace..”

:: Even dad was trying to stop mom from prying, bless him. Michelle waved us off though. ::

“It's fine, Justin, really! Uhm, well, we actually met at a bar a few weeks ago. Sounds cliché and cheap, I know, but it really wasn't. I was actually there with a friend celebrating her birthday, when I spotted Justin standing at the bar. He looked familiar, but I couldn't figure out where I had seen him before, so I went up and introduced myself and, yeah, we just sort of clicked.”

:: I smiled. It was true, we did sort of just 'click'. Michelle took a sip of her wine, as did my mother, whilst there was a moment of awkward silence, but for the sound of dad tearing into a turkey leg. In a bid to break the silence, I looked over at my nan. ::

“So, Nan, how's life been treating you?”

:: There was a soft splashing sound, though nobody really paid any attention. ::

“Oh it's just wonderful, Justin! I made a new friend down at the Crochet Club last week and would you believe it, her father and your great grandfather went to the same school! We talked for hours, she gave me a great recipe for scones and I promised I would show her how to make my famous meringue!”

:: Splash – Again, I heard it but paid no attention, though I wished I hadn't tried making small talk with Nan. BANG! Everybody jumped as a loud crashing noise came from the living room. We all exchanged glances, before pushing our chairs out and going to investigate. Walking down the hallway, I could her muffled expletives being belted out. The fingernails of mom and Michelle were digging hard into my arm as we approached the room. As we made it to the doorway, mom let out a violent scream and turned to run away. Her shriek startled the intruder who spun around. I go to move into the room and make the first move, but stop after a step and just stare at the masked man in front of me. ::

“.....Gator?”

:: He looks up at me and starts dusting soot off of himself, much to the disdain of my family, who still remain silent. ::

“Oh, hey Justin.”

“What are you doing?”

“Dusting myself, what does it look like?”

“I mean, what are you doing here? And why the fuck are you using the chimney?! What happened to the fire?”

:: Gator looks behind himself at the fireplace, before turning back to face me. ::

“Oh, that? Yeah, dude, you have no fucking idea how hard it was carrying two buckets of water up to your roof in the snow just so I could put that thing out. Can't your family just get a heat pump?”

:: I stare at him in disbelief as he finishes wiping damp soot all over the once white carpet. ::

“...why didn't you just use the front door?”

:: Gator stops everything and just stares at me for a second, before looking at the rest of my horrified family. ::

“I.. oh yeah.”

“You still didn't answer my question. Why are you here?”

“Because it's Christmas, of course! You're supposed to spend Christmas with your friends, remember?”

“What about your family?”

“Defiance man, we are family!”

:: I slap the palm of my right hand onto my forehead in disbelief and run it down my face. ::

“Okay man, well you gotta' go...”

“...join your for Christmas lunch? Wow, thanks man, you didn't have to do that.”

:: Gator just pushes past me and the rest of my family and makes his way to the kitchen. I exchange apologetic looks with the rest of my family, and reassure them that he is actually an okay guy, before heading back down the hallway. I walk back into the kitchen to see Gator sitting at the empty end of the table. He has one of his black boots in his hands, knocking it on the floor to get the snow off it. He does the same with the other boot as my mother watches on in horror, but says nothing. Gator throws his boots off to the side and grabs my beer before throwing his feet up onto the table, his mangy looking socks instantly making me lose my appetite. He leans back and starts drinking the beer as I encourage everyone to go and sit back down. One thing is for sure, this Christmas' is going to be the most eventful I have had in many years. ::

TO BE CONTINUED...

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode An InSane Christmas Pt1 \|\| Madfare #1 \|\|
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