The sound of snoring is the first thing that any viewers watching this can hear.

"Zzz... Zzz... huh?" Tim blinks open his eyes, only to find himself... alone. The room was pitch-black, and Tim could note no Jakob along with nobody else near him. "Hello?" he called out. No answer.

Tim managed to sit up straight, gasping as there was a crick in his back. "Starting to get to old to party," he grumbled. At least, that's what he assumed he did. Waking up without a sense of time with a killer headache seemed to point that he was drinking the previous night, a fact most emphasized that when Tim managed to stand on his own two feet, he clutched his head in pain. "Argh..." he moaned. "Where's the lights?"

Feeling around him in order to try and find a light switch, Tim's efforts were soon rewarded, as he found the magic switch he was looking for. Flicking it up, the lights came alive, revealing a room with an amount of dust that made Tim want to choke every time he took a deep breath. Looking around for something to find out exactly wherever the hell he was, he found three things: a cell phone- his own, to be precise- along with a laptop and a camera. Grabbing the cell phone instinctively, Tim decided to see how long he was exactly out for, however he knew he wasn't going to get his answer when he noticed that the date was set to January 1987. "What the hell..." he muttered. Noticing there was nobody else with him in the room, Tim decided to use the laptop, however the laptop was set to maximum brightness, causing Tim to have a sharp pain in his head. And right on that queue, Jakob began calling Tim's phone.

"Mmm... hello?" Tim whispered into the phone.

"Dad, where are you? It's almost 12, the interview is in two and a half hours," Jakob said.

As soon as Jakob said that, Tim's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He quickly typed in the XWF website, looking for the advertisement page- and yep, there it was. Tim clicked on the page, revealing to the viewer--

June 14th will show an EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW with newcomer Jakob Davis along with father Tim Davis! Discover motives, plans for the future, inspirations and much more! Hosted by Steve Sayors, go onto the XWF Network for $6.66 and begin to know the man known as Jakob Davis!

While it was succinct, the XWF brass didn't believe Jakob was yet worthy of having a more dedicated advertisement page among the likes of Vinnie Lane and Peter Gilmour for him. After a brief period of silence as Tim looked over the interview page again, he said, "I-interview?" Tim snorted, doing his damnedest impression to show that he was ignorant to the situation. "Uhhh...that's today?"

"Of course that's today! Where are you so I can pick you up?" Jakob shouted, exasperated. Tim grasped his head, mouthing 'ow' as Jakob raised his voice.

But then, Jakob did raise a good point. Where was Tim? He tried thinking back, remembering where he could have gone, but instead, there was one gigantic blank. Tim said, "...I don't know."

"That's not what I need to hear right now," Jakob groaned. Tim sighed; while he understood where his son was coming from as Tim was now seen as Jakob's mouthpiece, he was not in the mood to take this crap.

"Well, that's the answer you're getting! I don't know where I am, but that's not important! You're the moneymaker here, you gotta do the interview yourself!" Tim finally began shouting himself, followed by an 'ah' out of the pain in his head. No doubt Jakob must have at least some idea that Tim went out drinking now.

"Uh, Dad, are you crazy? You essentially implied that I was garbage at cutting promos." Jakob questioned.

Tim was about to sigh, but stopped himself. He knew Jakob wasn't going to go without him, so now Tim had to pull out the biggest load of believable bullshit he's ever thought of. "Alright, look. I've been snoopin' around, reading on XWF show review sites. Trying to see what the fans think about you." Tim rambled.

"And your point is...?" Jakob pressed on.

"I'm getting to that, relax. My point is that the fans think that you're just a vanilla midget." Tim finished.

"Wait, what?" It was clear that Jakob was shocked. Perhaps Tim went a little overboard with the vanilla midget line, but he needed to goad Jakob into going into the interview without him. Perhaps in that case, Tim might need to up the ante a little bit. It did take a lot to get Jakob mad.

"Eh, they might have a point," Tim yawned.

"WHAT?!" Jakob yelled into the phone. Immediately, Tim clutched his head, his brain swimming about as if it'd been dunked in a pool. Okay, that came sooner than he thought. Tim guessed Jakob was more pissed at Tim being in the middle of nowhere than he thought.

"Ow, hey man, watch the volume." Tim whispered back. He felt like his head was going to explode soon.

"No, I will not watch the volume, 'man.' How am I a vanilla midget?!" Jakob said, frustrated.

Tim sighed; he knew he was going to have to put this topic to bed unless he wanted Jakob to actually look on sites for XWF show reviews to see if Tim's claim was true. For now, Tim had to set Jakob's sights on the interview, and he began doing that by not letting Jakob get in a single word. "Well, you're pretty generic. Prove me wrong by going to the interview and show off some of that personality of yours. Even if you won't do it to prove me and the fans wrong on this one, you're going to go because I'm your father, and I'm going to beat you if I find out you no-show. I'll call you when I find out where I am. Now then, goodbye."

"B-but--" Jakob stammered before Tim hung up the phone.

"Ugh," Tim sighed as he leaned back. "Good kid. Bit misguided. Very annoying," he noted to himself. Wait, was he talking to himself? Unacceptable. Tim would merely have to find another form of entertainment. Remembering that Jakob had an upcoming match for Anarchy for the actual Anarchy Championship, Tim then kept skulking around on the XWF website to find promos made by his opponents for the match. Sure enough, Jakob was the only one who has yet to cut a promo, which caused Tim to shake his head in shame. Clicking on the first one he saw, that being Tommy Wish's, and continued as he managed to watch all of them. After that came Ghost Tank's first promo, then Alexis Riot's promo, then GT's second promo, and then finally McBride's bitch's promo. By the end of the last promo, Tim is shaking his head in shame. He wanted to set up the camera to cut a promo for Jakob, but something felt... off... to him.

(06-15-2016, 02:10 AM)Alexis Riot Said: "Anyway, let's move on to my next opponent, Jakob Davis,"

"Jakob, I'll admit, I don't know much about you, but from what I've seen, I think I have you figured out."

"You don't have the heart for this business. You'd rather be a cog in the machine, a person in the background, and that would be fine, if you were anywhere else but the XWF."

"In the XWF, hell, in wrestling, if you don't go in believing you're the best at what you do, you don't deserve to be here. You don't see greats like Louis D'Ville, Steve Jason, Thomas Madison, Sid Feder, hell, even Vinnie Lane get where they are now believing they are "average". You either got guts or they get ripped out of you, and I suggest you start saying goodbye to your internal organs before we meet tomorrow."

Where had that come from? Jakob had never said anything about wanting to merely be a cog in the machine of the XWF. He might had resisted a bit at first in joining the company, trying to get out of it, but Jakob even followed Tim's plan to try and become Intercontinental Champion. What was Alexis trying to say? Was this merely bullshit? Intuition? Or was it... something more? Tim whipped out his phone, and texted to Jakob--

You: jakob, we need to talk

Tim was thankful as Jakob quickly responded.

jakob: Yeah, Dad? You: u wanna go 2 the top, right? jakob: Top of what? You: xwf, moron. u wanna become uni champ, right?

A delay was occurring in between the message and the response. Tim patiently tapped his foot, wondering just what Jakob could be doing before he saw him reply.

jakob: Of course, Dad. Like Mom said, I kinda have to make you happy here. You: didn't ask what ur mom thought. asking u here. jakob: Well, yeah Dad. We're gonna become the Universal Champion now on a slow rise to the top. Together. You: good 2 know. just making sure

Tim smiled before putting his phone away- just like he thought, Riot's words were pure malarkey. Though he did wonder what that delay was all about...

With the distraction out of the way, Tim set up the camera and immediately began talking.

"You know, the quality of this damned federation seems to change more times than the wind changing direction. I wonder how I've been a loyal fan for so long, but that isn't the point. There was once upon a time where it seemed like there was a fresh, new face around every corner. Racists like the Dimallisher. Boy-band wanna-be singers like Franklin fucking Fresh. Charismatic businessmen like Theo Pryce. All sorts of people were getting deposited into the XWF faster than you can say 'C.Diff,' but it appears with this recent batch, the rainbow is gone, and instead with it comes the black smog of unoriginality."

"No, I'm fucking serious here. My fucking son got hit with nearly the same exact insult by nearly every single participant in this match. And it's not even a good insult either! They're basically saying, 'Stay the fuck out of my way, rookie, before you get hurt'! On what planet do they expect that to gain a mental advantage via the usage of trash talk?! I'm telling you right now, the people in this match are the biggest bunch of I've ever laid eyes on."

"You've got Tommy Wish, some incestual fucktard that banged his sister or something, I dunno. This guy has never been successful, nor will he ever be successful. Tell me, viewers. Aside from those small children paid to be extras in his promos, when's the last time you ever seen a little kid wearing a Tommy Wish t-shirt begging him for an autograph? The answer is, no one. To be honest, I'm not even sure why this guy's still with the company. He's got no talent, no charisma, and he's certainly got no pull over at the merchandise sales booths. You probably couldn't sell Tommy Wish merch even if you were handing them out for free. Do your mom a favor and kill yourself, fucktard."

"Next, we got fucking Alexis Riot, the dumb bitch who actually called MY SON a bitch, even though he won his last match, unlike her. Seriously, if one accidentally breaks a fucking fan's wrist by high-fiving him, then that's pretty much the opposite of a bitch. Not like someone like Riot would know. The only thing Alexis Riot will ever be known for is getting a fluke win over Doctor Louis D'Ville. In fact, the shame stemming from that loss was so great that the dude had to fucking leave the company. Jesus fucking Christ. This moron is the one who retired one of the greatest competitors in XWF history? Tell me people, what has Alexis Riot done after retiring Doctor D'Ville?"

"Hm?"

"..."

"I'm still waiting."

"And this bitch wants to act like she's even got a chance against my son. Tch! The mouth on that bitch. I should just tie her up after the match, take her backstage, and try and get an xbux prize selling her to Dim. In fact, I might even do that. Hear that, Alexis? I'm going to fucking kidnap you and sell you to Dim for money, because being a sex slave is all you're ever going to be worth for here. Better pucker up both sets of lips, sweet-cheeks, because I'm sure Dim's six inches is hungry and waiting. Just wear a Peter Gilmour mask and you'll be good to go."

"Next, we got this dumbass named Shade. This moron can't even say my son's name right. HEY, FUCKTARD! IT'S NOT JACK! IT'S JAKOB! J - A - K - O - B. Not like I'm sure you'd know the difference. If I was to jump down from a height onto your IQ, I'd be committing suicide. I mean, shit. Frodo said this already, but you got your ass taken to school by Michael fucking McBride. You know, the guy who couldn't even beat Maverick. Yeah, that's right. You're the bitch of the guy who couldn't beat a dickless, ballless and nippleless title shitter. Go eat Ghost Tank's dick man, you're just god awful to watch."

"Speak of the devil, oh shit, it's Ghost Tank himself! Guys, I don't understand what's so special about this guy. So what if he beat down a few tired and winded guys who went through matches on Warfare? That's supposed to make you mean something? Your victory over Chris MacBeth was special, yes, but nothing to write home about. You're mediocre, GT. That's about as good as you'll ever get. Considering what you once were, I would take this as a complement, but you're still fucking nothing to my son."

"Also guys, is it me or is GT just the biggest fucking crybaby on the face of this goddamned Earth? 'Wahhh, I lost to Scully! He cheated! He got Archie Lawson to hit me with a ring bell! Wahhh!' Suck it up, bitch. Rider of the Apocalypse? DEATH? You want to fucking call yourself DEATH? If anything I'd want to call you in when I'm on my death bed. Seeing you always puts a smile on my face because then I get to laugh at how fucking pathetic you are and as they say, laughter is the best medicine."

"Jesus, you guys got me pissed off. I'm gonna go take a fucking nap now. Hangovers fucking hurt when cutting a promo."