Hope, Arkansas.

“Loverboy” Vinnie Lane makes his way through the small town cemetery, carrying three pink roses in his hand. Eventually, he finds the humble family plot with three mounds of earth still noticeably fresher than the ground around them.

On the large headstone reads one word in bold, block letters.

Harrison.

Simple. Succinct. Like the Harrisons themselves always were, like Loverboy remembered them all from his last trip to Arkansas in August.

Loverboy makes his way to the gravesite and he removes his sunglasses, tucking them into his leather jacket pocket, then takes a knee in front of the marble stone.

Laying a rose on each of the three mounds of dirt, Loverboy folds his hands over his knee for a silent moment before opening his eyes and speaking out loud.

“Jessica… man. I know you and me weren’t close or anything. I wasn’t really a part of the family or anything, you know, and you probably didn’t even know what to make of me when I was in your house that time. I feel like you deserved a thank you from me, and I never gave it to you.

I probably owe a lot of people thank yous, you know? This is the sort of thing that really brings it home for you. I didn’t think anything of it at the time other than feeling nice and thinking I’d just make it up to you sometime later… but then sometime never got a chance to happen, did it? Man.

I didn’t know what to think when this happened to all of you, dude. Your little girls… they were so sweet and I know LH really loved all three of you so damn much. You know, he always kept trying to tell me there was a man upstairs and I always kept blowing him off… but because of you guys, and for his sake, I really hope he was right.

You deserved better.

Goodbye, Harrisons… I’m sorry I wasn’t a better dude when you knew me. But I’m trying. And I’m going to try and help LH this week and maybe get him right again.

I promise.”

Loverboy lowers his head again and starts to awkwardly cross himself, obviously not something he is familiar with doing. Before he can make a mockery of the process too badly though, a familiar voice gets his attention.

“That... was beautiful.”

Loverboy turns around looking surprised and shocked at the same time. LH Harrison steps out from under the nearby Oak tree. He half-way smiles before nodding slightly.

Loverboy gets to his feet, brushing away the soil from the knees of his tight blue jeans. Blinking in surprise he steps toward his old friend and renewed tag team partner.

“LH! Dude… how did you know I’d be here?”

“Why do you look so alarmed Lane? If you were trying to avoid me, coming to my children and wife's tombstones was probably not the most advisable location to hide at.”

Harrison steps forward wearing a black, button-down shirt, black pants, red tie, black dress shoes. In his hands is a small bouquet of flowers. He steps forward and lays the arrangement on his daughters' shared tombstone. He stares at it for a moment before crossing his arms against the bone-chilling wind. His shoulders shiver slightly before he turns to face the rock star.

“What are you doing here, Lane?”

Loverboy is slow to answer, as he seems truly lost for the right words.

"I just... I don't know, man. I felt like I should. They were good to me when no one else really was you know? You were good to me.

Whatever the hell happened after we teamed up last time, dude, I have no idea. I got swept up in this crazy life and it seemed like you were drifting farther and farther away into... something. Troubles.

After your match with Enigma and then what happened with Morbid at War Games... I didn't know what to say.

I'm sorry, dude."

Harrison turned away. He took two, three, small steps away.

“I remember what you said. You mocked. You, like everyone else, mocked me. They called me the worst husband and father in the world. Despite my coming back from the grave. Despite my unconscious state when they were taken from me. If anything, Lane, you should be worried. Worried for being so close to me at any point in time.”

Harrison sighs and turns back towards Lane. His eyes look cold despite the eerie glow from his green irises.

“Everyone that I associated with has either turned fucking belly up or been put in a nuthouse.”

Harrison suddenly becomes self-aware of his language. He looks over at Jessica's grave with a pained expression.

“I'm sorry Jessica...‏”

Loverboy sees the pain in LH’s eyes and takes another step forward. He extends his arm and places a gloved hand on his friend’s arm, doing his best to be supportive.

"Dude... you did what you had to do. You carried on, man. Jessica wouldn't want you to go stagnant or, fuck man, kill yourself over her? No way. No way would she be cool with that, dude. She'd want you to get your ass up and get to the top, like she knew you wanted to do, man!

What you did at Warfare was incredible, man. The way you destroyed Morbid Angel for what he did to you... nobody saw that shit coming, I know I didn't. I looked right into your... mask... when you had me tied to that chair back in Colorado, dude, and I didn't see any bit of you behind it. I didn't know you could pull off that kind of an act."

Harrison pulls away from Loverboy, staring into his eyes with an intensity Loverboy isn’t prepared to match. As the megastar drops his gaze to the ground between their feet, Harrison replies to him in a shaking, but confident, voice.

“I donned the mask for three purposes Vinnie. All of which came to fruition. I put it on to bring an army to The Higher Power that is Doctor D'Ville. After all, without him I would no longer be standing here nor in this very tournament of sorts. Number two was to enact some semblance of revenge on the monster that took the breath from the three family members I considered closer than any others.”

Harrison stops momentarily before clearing his throat.

“He got what he deserved and has not since been heard from. A silencing act from The Higher Power and his Prophet. That business has yet to be resolved. The third reason... being that it was a high, Mr. Lane. It's... there's... no way I could explain to you how it felt to put that mask over your face and suddenly feel as if the world was completely in your control. Yours for the making. Yours for the melting and reestablishing. The Mask gave me power Lane.”

Harrison's eyes settle straight ahead on Loverboy.

“Surely you must know the serenity of carrying the fate of the future. You are the number one contender for the Universal Championship. A title in which He holds.”

"Yeah... I am, dude... and if he's your "higher power" how can I trust you to watch my back this week, man? I mean... after what's happened, after all the hard feelings and the tough times between us, the bad blood... how do I know you won't sacrifice me to him or some shit, dude?

You and me, hell man, you were my first friend in the XWF. The first dude to think I was more than a joke, to see that I could be something big. This life is insane at times, man, I've seen some crazy shit. You don't even wanna know the latest shit that's been going on, man.

But I gotta tell you... I think I do. Trust you, I mean. I just... feel it, I guess? Like you and me are not only going to bury the hatchet and let bygones be bygones, but that we're going to run over Game Boy and Mystica on Wednesday.

Do you get what I mean, man?"

To Loverboy’s happy surprise, Harrison meets Loverboy’s eyes with a smile and a nod. Maybe there is a shot at redeeming the old Inspiration back to the man he had been before.

“Despite our previous transgressions, my sole purpose now is to exude sheer dominance over this federation and turning on my teammate during a tag team match doesn't seem to be the smartest action. For the time being, you can trust The Prophet.”

Harrison's mouth curls up into a grin.

“As for what you said, you also were my first friend here in the XWF. Despite our drastic differences in style, we meshed well together and took down two men who were hot at the moment. As the days have passed, we have moved onwards towards better success while those two haven't amounted to more than winning the occasional match against subpar competition.

I wouldn't worry for a nanosecond about me 'offering' you up to The Higher Power. While you may have gotten into the fray when D'Ville cashed in, it was nothing personal. The only interest was taking out Morbid and claiming the Universal Championship for The Asylum.

As for the pixelated hero and his 'god' friend, I have no reservations this time, Vinnie. When we first teamed up, I was a different person. I held back in the effort to Inspire the world with my good mannerisms. Now? The Doctor has opened my eyes. It's broken bones and deleted data that will send the true inspiration to the world.‏”

Loverboy thinks to himself for a tense, pensive moment. The two former partners, former competitors, former friends, stand and appraise one another in silence until Loverboy breaks the heavy atmosphere with a cocky grin of his own.

"Well... that's good to know, man. And you know something? I kinda feel the same way. If it isn't me in the spotlight, I'd be totally fine with it being you.

Sometimes we have to do business against each other, you know, but none of that is ever my choice. I don't book the shows, you know? I didn't want to see you against me in that four way match, or on Team Tigris either, that's for sure. And the Rumble? That was an accident man. I was out of my head after the Asylum... after YOU... did what you did to me. I didn't know who to go to, who to trust. All I knew was I wanted to tear everyone apart and show them I wasn't broken.

I tell you what, man, I think I succeeded. I opened peoples' eyes in that rumble, and a week later I shut up the critics who said I was fading in the light of that Austin Fernando kid.

I'm at the top of my game right now, Harrison. Even after that meaningless loss to Gilmour last weekend, I'm the future... I know he's your Higher Power, but dude, someday soon I'm going to take that Universal Championship from him.

As for now, though? Dude, I can say I am all in on the two of us leaving a trail of scorched earth and broken bodies this week to kick off the Lethal Lottery. You and me, we've always been the best of both worlds, man."‏

Loverboy stands directly in front of Harrison, making unflinching eye contact and holding his right hand out in front of him in anticipation of a handshake. Harrison, however, hesitates.

“You can try to take the title from The Higher Power, Lane. Perhaps there is a future involving LH Harrison and Vinnie Lane where pride and envy doesn't take ahold of us. The Best of Both Worlds. Except it seems we're on opposite sides of the fence this time, Lane. You wear the white hat of John Wayne while I wear the black hat of the renegade doing things in his own accepted way.”

Harrison releases his arms, looks at his hand, and extends it.

“For one week at the very least, you have my trust Vinnie Lane.‏”

The two men hold a firm shake, then Loverboy pulls Harrison in for a back-slapping hug. They break apart and Loverboy smiles again, slapping Harrison approvingly on his chest.

"Same here, man. You and me, one more time, let's take it to the sleeping wannabe god and his imaginary 8-bit friend.”

Harrison again smiles and nods in agreement, but Loverboy still seems a bit nervous about something. Finally, he cracks and spills the beans.

“But if you listen to anything I ever say man, listen to me now... you need to leave the darkness in the past, dude.

Get rid of the mask."‏

Harrison is stunned, completely caught off guard. He turns away, talking to Loverboy over a shoulder.

“The mask? It gives me power, Lane. Why would I get rid of it?”

"Because dude, it's sucking you into the dark side. The LH Harrison I know fights for the light…

Just think about it, man. And be ready this week."

Harrison turns to Loverboy again, standing straight and balling his hands into fists in anticipation of the upcoming tag team match on Wednesday’s Warfare.

“This is the reemergence of The Best of Both Worlds. For one night only and with standing room only, we shall tear down the house. Vinnie Lane and the mask-less LH Harrison. One more time.

See you soon, friend.”

And with that, Harrison walks off and leaves Loverboy standing at the graves as the sun slowly winds its way down in the west.




Man oh man, we are getting so close to the beginning of one of the biggest shows in XWF history, dude. The 2015 Lethal Lottery series is shaping up to be incredible, some of the best and brightest of all time are involved…

Guys like Unknown Soldier, Eli James… and me, “Loverboy” Vinnie Lane.

I know what you’re thinking… you’re thinking, dude, is it even fair that they put two regular, normal dudes like Lane and Harrison in the ring against a couple of exiles from the land of make believe?

The answer is no, man, it isn’t. It isn’t fair to them. What’s going to happen to these two imaginary friends is simple – a beating. Game Boy doesn’t really know what that’s like yet, man, but he’s about to find out for sure. Afterwards I might even go smash up his princess’ peach so she knows what it feels like when a real hero is sporting more than three pixels.

Listen, Game Boy thinks he’s got a leg up on me because he’s used being a hero… bullshit. You’re a toy. You’re a hero in the same way that the little dog from Monopoly is rich. You live in a world free of consequence, free of anything meaningful, because all you serve to do is entertain a bunch of hipsters playing throwback video games.

Me? I go out to the ring night after night after night and I’m a hero to every kid who gets told he can’t be what he wants to be when he grows up. I’m a hero to every out of shape person who thinks they can never look like a Greek god carved from marble. I’m a hero to every dude who thinks he’ll never go home with the hot chick, man.

What is Game Boy a hero for? Breaking bricks with his head and eating mushrooms? Getting unlimited chances to do the most simplistic tasks? Is he a hero to everyone who ever wanted to grow up to be two dimensional? No. All Game Boy is is a temporary distraction. As soon as whoever gets done with playing his game, man, he shuts the console down and Game Boy simply stops fuckin’ existing.

That’s a pretty big difference between what he thinks is a hero and what really is a hero, dude. Real heroes don’t ever disappear. Real heroes don’t vanish when you pull the plug. REAL heroes are god damn immortal, man. Because we get written into the record books as the greatest of all time. People grow up and remember when we inspired them and they pass it on to their kids who pass it on to theirs.

No one does that with broken old Atari games, man. All they do is make fun of how shitty there were compared to the newer generation.

The new generation.

Me.

This is basically the last day that Game Boy will get to call himself undefeated in the XWF, and I’m being kind since he’s also the only wannabe star that my girlfriend has ever won anything off of. The only real accolade the dude has ever managed to win for himself, and a pretty valet in high heels took it from him. Some hero.

Before you go thinking I forgot about you, Mister Mystica, I didn’t. I just find you pretty much irrelevant. Which, really, is how the entire company has felt about you for the past six months, at least.

I mean, seriously, what are you doing? Kidnapping chicks and getting them to go all Stockholm on you? So basically you’re Pest but without a bunch of dicks strapped to your head? Wow, man, impressive. What does that translate to in the ring though, man? What does that do for you when you’re getting your ass kicked from pillar to post by two of the best athletes the XWF has ever seen while they are in their prime?

Nothing. It does nothing for you, Mystica, and the same goes for any other little zombie girls you might have still breathing in your grandparents’ cellar. Bring a parade of them to the ring with you if you want, man, it’ll just be an even bigger audience for your embarrassing failure.

Maybe it will even break whatever “spell” you think you have over these sad chicks, man.

Hey you know what, dude? I’ve actually got a magic trick I can show you on Wednesday night… it’s going to be making your relevance disappear in front of a sold out crowd in a town that fucking loves me.

I can’t wait.