OOC: Please hover over the 'Logical Conclusion' at the bottom. I love that the new boards allow this little trick and I'll take bettr advantage of it in the future. But for now, and as always, I'm experimenting.

Truly there is no humorist more highly regarded. No comedian more collectively celebrated.

No buffoon more berated for belligerent blubbering.

Than Peter Gilmour.

Oh. Peter. Pete. Petey.

Look whose riding high on their success.

On their one.

Single.

SOLITARY.

Victory.

Unless you want everyone to celebrate beating ‘Porn Star’ Kristofer Kain and that Ryou BlahBlahBlah punk. Because those are some sad meaningless trophies you’re pumping in everyone’s faces.

Sorry, but anyone else think that Little Petey is getting a little too far up on his high horse? Shouldn’t he let one of the other mediocre children have a chance to disappoint? That maybe Little Petey he needs to duck down before I just take his head off?
I’m just saying, the guy beats that pathetic pseudo-pugilist Joseph Page and the Has-Been Never-Was Never-Will-Be Non-Entity Tax and suddenly he's naming himself XWF champion.

By the way, since Gilmour took a moment from his senseless rambling to take potshots at Tax with no discernible reason or ability. Someone who hasn’t said a word since this new Reboot and is largely irrelevant at the moment.

I figured I'd show my opponent how it's done and beat him at his own game.

Tax.

Trying to follow in Slater's footsteps by stealing belts, eh? Pretending you have it in you to win individual matches, let alone titles?

Here's the thing about the belts Slater stole, Tax.

Say what you will about the recently and rightfully released, Slater earned his opportunities. And he won when he got them.

Sure, he stole the belt from that slack-jawed simpleton Chuck.

After he OUT-WRESTLED Chuck. And PINNED his shoulders to the mat.

When was the last time you successfully did that to anyone? That wasn't John Black caliber anyway?

Even before Slater stole Xmyles' WGWF television title? He out-wrestled Xmyles. He did it smart and he walked out champion.

You just walked out of Lethal Lottery a thief.

And a loser.

I don’t care if you’re gone. I don’t care if you’ve finally taken your free agent status as a sign that you actually need to put your name on a contract and moved over to WGWF where you can spend the rest of your career ALMOST winning matches. I just want you to understand…

I haven’t forgotten.

And the way I maimed Randall Cross in his last real shot? After he couldn't get the belt back on his 'hand-picked' champion's waist?

What I'm going to you?

Will be ten times worse.

Breaking Randall Cross' neck with a steel folding chair and bringing his career to its Logical Conclusion?

Ten.

Times.

Worse.

... Now that I've made it clear how superior I am mentally to Peter Gilmour, allow me to clarify another thing.

Peter, you gave me a lot of compliments. Back-handed some of them, but compliments nonetheless.

Although may I recommend you shouldn't assign someone an insulting moniker as trash talk if all you're going to follow it with is the singing of my praises, you dim-witted dolt.

Still, allow me to return the favor.

Peter Gilmour.

You are hilarious.

Funniest man on the roster

One joke after another.

For your entire career.

Who doesn't love the comedic stylings of the 'King of Comedy' Peter Gilmour?

Remember that time you made audiences laugh out loud as you ducked Dark Shadow of all people and refused to accept a 'Loser Leaves XWF' stipulation? AGAINST DARK SHADOW!?!?

How hilarious is it that Mr. Big Shot 'Just Give Me the XWF Title' Peter Gilmour ran around just weeks ago too much of a sniveling coward to stand up against Dark Shadow?

And who could forget that gut busting, side splitting two man show where Psico gave you everything, LITERALLY EVERYTHING YOU WANTED... On a silver platter...

Your stipulation. Your double dealing official. Your championship opportunity. All you had to do was put the managerial services of Rose on the line.

And you were too terrified to sign the contract for a FIXED match.

I could not stop laughing at your wacky antics.

But do you want to know my favorite joke of yours, Gilmour? It’s a recent little laugher you penned. Oh, it is a knee slapper.

Stop me if you've heard this one.

"So, Peter Gilmour walks into an arena on January 7th."

"And wins the Tag Team Championships."

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...

OH GOD… IT GETS ME EVERY TIME…

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…

Oh man… That is beyond hilarious. Beyond ridiculous.

Honestly, how do you think this shit up, Gilmour? How did that preposterous conception ever cross your primitive challenged mind?

Because I’m dying laughing right now.

Too.

F***ing.

Funny.

Now, Gilmour. I’ll be the first to recognize that Feder and I aren’t as hilarious as you.

Nor are we quite as rotund. Nor did either of us get Superstar of the month of December.

Even though I handed Tristan Slater his first legitimate defeat and became a Double Champion…

And Sid Feder was the man to win the Lethal Lottery and the only reason you went over Page and Tax.

Which really brings your selection as Superstar of the Month of December into question since all you did was let my fellow tag team champion do the heavy lifting and sneak in the pin at the end…

But, since we’ve already established that I’m not as funny as you. Allow me to counter your talents.

By being serious for a moment. And injecting a dose of reality into this little humorous fantasy you’ve created…

…

…

Peter.

While you’re taking random pot shots at everything that you can get your tiny brain around.

The Nasty Boys.

Hank Lane.

Tyler Decker.

Dark Shadow.

Blah, blah, blah, meaningless gibberish. People that have either never been your opponent or retired and moved on so your little comments about them have nothing to do with our upcoming match.

While you’re still throwing around that falsehood that Tomoko is your tag partner when she’s made it clear she doesn’t plan on re-entering XWF doors at the moment.

While your hands shake and you fire into the darkness, stream after stream of thoughtless mindless jabbering, like the scribbling of a mental patient, desperate for something to stick. While you’re screaming out thousands of words that mean nothing.

In half the time as your bullshit took, I’ve torn you and your plans to shreds.

My mind is clear.

Do you get that?

Your opponent’s mind is clear. Swift like the river. Precise like a laser-targetted semi-automatic weapon with recently calibrated scope correction.

Both natural talent and scientific accuracy are coming after you this Monday.

And while you’re throwing around your little winning streak, matches you won that I wasn’t a part of, matches against trash like Kristofer Kain and Joseph Page?

The only matches that matter much to me? Two matches.

One. July 28th, 2012. Saturday Impact. Mark Flynn and Team vs John Spartan and Team. A team that included Peter Gilmour. A team you couldn’t carry to victory. Undeniable proof that I am superior to you. Mark Flynn 1, Peter Gilmour Zilch.

Two. January 14th, 2013. Monday Night Madness. The end of the reign of Peter Gilmour. The night where the December 2012 Star of the Month loses any chance of becoming January 2013 Star of the Month.

And while this little journey, this little title shot you haven’t earned and the few awards that you’ve won have amused everyone just like every other insipid statement that’s come out of your mouth.

There’s not a sole, NOT ONE SINGLE PERSON, in the XWF, that would be STUPID enough to put a red cent on Peter Gilmour walking out of Madness…

With the Tag Team Titles.

Oh Petey. You’re in over your head. Shooting for any real accomplishment puts you in over your head.

Since I’ve been here, have you won a belt that wasn’t the Heavymetal Championship?

Ha. NEWS FLASH! Have you ever even won the Heavymetal Championship?!?

Say what you will about my ‘Quick Transitions.’

But at least I won them.

At least I earned them.

I still own the European Title. No one beat me for it. No matter where Tax is. XWF. WGWF. Or the Wrestling Federation of Make-Believe where he pretends he’s main event material. The belt is mine.

It’s.

MY.

Belt.

Just like the Tag Title.

IS.

MY.

BELT.

I don’t care how undependable certain partners have been. What ‘Hall of Legend’ hack dropped it off on who’s doorstep in disgust.


I still own the XWF Tag Title. It’s stayed in my possession for over two months.

Whether or not the titles were on the line, I carried weaklings and insects in the Lethal Lottery tournament. I’ve defended the belts beyond transition periods. I’ve earned every opportunity that’s come my way.

Now. As I love to do. Let’s flip it around.


Challenge after challenge. Matches for the X-Treme title, #1 contender’s battle royals, the Lethal Lottery.

No matter how many opportunities get flung your way for whatever inane reason. It doesn’t really matter.

Because never have you once been in danger of coming close to walking way with a championship.

Call me a ‘transitional champion’ all you want.

I’ve held a belt in the XWF.

In the last six months, can you say the same?

Can you say you’ve held a belt? That you’ve done anything of real merit that hasn’t been handed to you by a higher power?

Let’s face it, Petey.

You choke under pressure. You choke in the big match. And no matter how impressive you’ve been in TWO meaningless matches?

You still haven’t won a thing

So, please.

Try to remember.

When you’re screaming in the center of the ring.

When I’m wrenching your arm out of its socket, laughing as I keep the belt around my waist where it belongs.

Remember your place. Remember that John Black’s so-called ‘Era of the Underdogs’.

Was a lie.

And this Monday on the first Madness of 2013? Peter Gilmour’s Miracle Boy Cinderella story?

Comes to its Logical Conclusion…