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Chris Chaos · (01-11-2017)

THE BEST AT WHAT I DO
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Chris loved cruise ships. There was just something about being in the middle of the ocean, all alone, with virtually no help if anything were to go wrong, that made Chris tingle. It was a risk, for sure, every time you step on board. But Chris loved a good risk every once and a while. Ships today were almost fool-proof, but there was always that added risk when you were travelling the artic. For Thomas Nixon and Gabe Reno, this shit was about to be the Titanic. It would be their last voyage at the main event level....before they sank to the bottom, where they belonged.

So XWF thought they were slick by separating all members of the show on various parts of the ship until the show happened. They would have to actually ride on the ship out out to the baron wasteland of ice they were having a show in, and then ride the ship back. Risky business. Chris knew this would be fun. Would Gabe Reno try anything? I mean, he has been on Chris like a rash the last few weeks. He was like a little kid. Like a lost puppy. It was kind of pathetic.

Chris and Jenny boarded the ship. Bruce doesn't like ships unless it is in warm water. PTSD from his navy days. He would watch the show from the comfort of his Dunedin, FL, apartment with a beer, or ten. That was fine. Chris didn't need Bruce to be successful.

Looking at his ticket, he followed the corridor to the room that he and Jenny would split. Most of the roster members had to split a room, as the fans that purchased tickets were on this ship as well. But not Chris. When you are the top dog, you get certain perks. He would make sure to rattle the headboard extra loud, just for an extra fuck you touch.

When he slid the door open to his room, he couldnt help but grin. The description on their travel planner wasn't lying:

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There are three Owner's Suites onboard Oceania Cruises' Marina and Riviera, and the accommodations are among the most superb at sea. Size counts, for sure, and these measure 2,000 square feet apiece. Ralph Lauren Home furnishings are featured throughout the large living and dining room as well as the bedroom, which comes with king-sized bed. You'll also find his-and-her walk-in closets, a grand entryway with an ebony grand piano, and even a media nook with a professional entertainment system. There's one whirlpool tub in the bathroom, outfitted with Bulgari bath products, and another on the veranda, which also has an outdoor flat-screen television. What else do we love about Oceania's Owner's Suites? Their location. Each suite spans the width of the ship, facing aft, looking over the wake. Perks for Owner's Suite residents include access to the private Executive Lounge -- staffed by a dedicated concierge and featuring complimentary soft drinks, coffees and snacks throughout the day -- plus 24-hour butler service and course-by-course, in-suite meal delivery from any onboard restaurant. The biggest downside of a cruise in an Oceania Owner's Suite is that you'll feel so pampered and cosseted indoors, you might well be tempted to miss ports of call and stay onboard."

A sick grin crossed his face. "By Butler service, does that mean we can choose? Can we bring Snow along? She needs a good dose of reality. Hell, this room costs more than her entire park." Jenny smiled too. She knew Snow wasn't on the card. She was clearly kicking herself for not thinking of the idea earlier. "A phone call to Vinnie can't hurt. Maybe he can have her flown out."

Chris tossed her his cell phone. "Make the call. This one is on you."

She smiled, "I need my nails done. Maybe I will have her bring nail polish. I hope she has something besides camo."

Chris chuckled, setting his baggage down on the bed. "Yeah and I need someone to unpack my suitase."

"Hey, she is my servant, not yours. You got your water. Think of that as a favor."

Chris shook his head with a smile. He was about to establish himself as the true alpha male here. He was about to take two undeserving pricks and kick them one step closer to the unemployment line. At least he was doing it in style.

After setting up bed that he would split Jenny in two on later, he put on his best dress shirt and a pair of pants with dress shoes. Jenny slipped on one of her sexiest and most revealing dresses, and the two went to explore the ship.

Sitting down to a nice dinner in one of the ships many five star restaurants. Chris requested three chairs. One for him, one for Jenny, and one for the Universal Title. Call it pretentious.....Chris calls it being the champion.

[i]The ship was moving now. He could feel it. Chris took a hand to his gaws that was on his head from his war with Michael McBride on Savage. He felt it. Dry. He had stopped bleeding. Then, as if a light bulb went off in his head, he stopped and looked at Jenny. She was getting up to use the restroom.

"Whats the matter, sugartits, gotta drop the kids off at the pool?"

She gave him an "ugh" and said, "No......lady stuff. I'll be back."

Chris reached out and grabbed her arm. "Wait....wait wait wait. When you are done.....keep it. Wrap it in some toilet paper and bring it back to the table."

Jenny looked taken aback. "You want me to keep my used tampon and bring it back to the table? Are you insane?"

"Wrap it in some toilet paper or something. I have an idea. Just do it."

About 10 minutes later Jenny came back with a pink piece of toilet paper in her hands. Inside contained the grossest hygiene product on the market today. Chris took his gaws off, took the piece of toilet paper from her, and wrapped it in his gaws. Signaling over the servant, a man who had a SNOW nametag on--Chris made him wear it--and handed it to him.

"Please deliver that to Gabe Reno's room."

The man looked utterly disgusted. "Come on, you work on a cruise ship with a bunch of smelly foreigners, dont tell me that is the worst thing you've ever seen."

The man left quickly, trying not to touch it more than he had to.

About 20 minutes later, Chris was in the bathroom pissing. There was a man in the stall pinching a loaf. After a muffled grunt and a burst of air, he heard the plop. The idea the went into his head.

Going to get "Snow" before the man flushed, he sent the man into the bathroom on strict orders. "Wrap it up, and send it to Thomas Nixon's room."

Sitting back down, Jenny asked him why he wanted to send a used tampon and a piece of shit to the room of his competitors. He had a simple answer.

"I am sending a message."

"Oh yeah, and what message is that exactly?"

"That I am the best at what I do."

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So I was looking at the XWF Website. Those pricks in the marketing department really know how to market something don't they? Alpha Status? That is really all we are battling here for? Alpha status? And bragging rights? Good god they are making Nixon and Reno into something they are not. I mean, come on. I think that as long as I have this gold around my waist," he taps the belt sitting on his shoulder with his knuckle, "that I am the apex predator here. The alpha. And bragging rights? This is non title. All that these pricks will be able to say, IF IN FACT THEY DO WIN, will be that they won a triple threat match the champion was involved in. What bragging is that? The champ just happened to be there, that isn't an accomplishment. Beat me for this belt, then talk to me about bragging. But, anything for ratings I guess, eh?

But tell me, who is a bigger ratings machine than me? Nixon? Please. He is the TV champion because he isn't capable of winning anything else. He was in the right place at the right time, simple as that. He is content to hold on to any shred of integrity he has, and I get that, but for him to think he is remotely close to being on my level is an absolute joke. The fact that he is a champion at all is beyond belief. But, facts are facts. He holds gold. But what he needs to learn is that stepping into a ring with me isn't like stepping into a ring with those cumstains he defends his TV Title against. I am a one man wrecking crew. I am an unstoppable force AND an immovable object. I am the top of the mountain and holding the TV Title, that isn't even half way up. The air is still clear down there, he can still breathe.

You see, Mr. Nixon, when you are this high up on the mountain, the air is really thin. It gets hard to breathe as you try to sort through all the bullshit. Everyone, when you are up here, wants to join you. Everyone, when you are up here, wants to be a part of the action. What they don't know is what it takes to join the likes of me. They ask for title shots when they are undeserved because the idea of even, just for a moment, being the Universal Champion gives them an erection the size of the Statue of Liberty. But they lack the necessary skills to be up here. They haven't brought the right hiking gear. Even if they began to climb, I would snap their cables in the blink of an eye and send them tumbling to the bottom so fast their little heads would spin. Let me just remind you of exactly what it was I had to go through to get here. I had to go through a WAR with Doc, and somehow survive. I eclipsed that obstacle. Then, I was the ONLY ONE---the ONLY FUCKING ONE--who had to win every single week to keep my shot. Not a single member of that chamber had their wildcard on the line every week like I did. And once again, I survived. Then, I ran into Gabe Reno. He was a young upstart, with the world in his palm. He won SHOVE IT and was awarded the X-Treme Title. He had it all in front of him. But some people, Thomas, some people just aren't built for success. Gabe let it go to his head. He let himself get bigger in his head than he really was. He would soon lose that title to a bullshit, at least in opinion, 24-7 rule. So then, he had a chance to redeem himself. I read the odds. I read the tabloids. I heard the talk. A lot of people thought Gabe was going to beat me and take my spot in that chamber. A lot of people thought Gabe had the required skills needed to take me out. A lot of people though Gabe Reno would go on to win the title. They gassed him up. They got in his head. And Gabe counted his chickens before they hatched. So he opened his mouth---something he actually is good at---and decided this match should be a no holds barred, falls count anywhere match. Albeit, a bit of that was my urging, but he didn't need to accept that stipulation. He did and we had a WAR as well. I will give the young man this....he pushed me to my absolute limit. He took me as far as anyone has ever taken me before. But my goal was achieved. SURVIVE. I did that. I beat Reno within an inch of his life and equalized him in the middle of the ring. 1....2......3.

So, what happened next? Need I remind you? Apparently I do. Because for some reason you think this is a game, Nixon. You think is is all a game. So, let me tell you. Reno then was partnered with me. He couldn't beat me so he had to join me. Reno, in a fit of jealousy and envy, tried to pull one over on me. He tried to out smart me. He tried to take me out. If he couldn't have my spot, nobody could. But I am always at least 10 steps ahead of Reno. Jenny heard the plot. She informed me. And I threw him through a plate glass window. He got himself suspended for threatening Vincent Lane. Reno was gone, done, and finished. All because he couldn't let go of the fact that he, like the 19 others in my W column, beat me. So then I was left to face Trax and Bourbon myself. Two of the top guys on this roster and two worthy advisaries, or so I thought. They couldn't beat me either, so Robbie had to resort to cheating.

Then, Wild Card Weekend came. I had one goal, SURVIVE. I did that. I survived. I knew that is all it would take. Win the match by out lasting 5 other guys. I did that and I won this title you see here on my shoulder." He taps the belt again with a knuckle. "I went to hell and back inside a mile of steel, and I came out on top. The odds were against me, but I did it. Now Thomas, who did you beat for the TV Title? Some could say you survived as well. Jakob Davis, Broken Hart, Barney Green. You really ran the gauntlet. You really had the best this company had to offer. Do you sense the sarcasm in my voice? Then, since winning it, who have you faced? Gabe Reno, I think we all saw what he is made of. His intestinal fortitude is made of silly puddy. Then Broken Hart again. Oh my gosh, you must have been quivering in your designer shoes. Who else? Brandon Moore. Oh boy. A newbie with a moveset as limited as Verizon's Data Network. Keep going? Brandon Moore and Cain? Now I will admit, I havent exactly been tested either. Dolly Waters, sure, she was game. But I finally put an end to that chapter. Then, Nami and Drezdin, that was simply foreplay. And Snow? Light work. But if you watched Warfare and saw the way it ended, you know that I have a lot of people who want to sink their teeth into me. Some deserving, some not so much. But that brings me back to WHO you won your belt against? Jakob Davis, Broken Hart, Barney Green. I survived in the most brutal structure ever created against 3 future hall of famers and two others that were at the top of their game at the time. Jakob Davis, Broken Hart, Barney Green, nobody will remember their names by this time next year. So before you undermine my accomplishments again and try to make it seem like you are on the top of the mountain, remember my words and realize that as long as I hold this here belt, Thomas, YOU AREN'T SHIT. Remember that."

He takes the belt off his shoulder and switches shoulders, running his hand over his goatee.

"And Gabe Reno. You want to get in on the action. You want to have another tussle with the man who has made you his bitch for the better part of two months? Okay, that is no skin off my back. But just know that this is it. If you fail to survive this match, if you fall, whether it is to me or to Nixon, you are DONE. You will NEVER get another shot to be elite. You will never get another spot in a main event. I am done with you. I am done with you thinking you are something you are not. I BEAT you, Reno. In this business there are no participation trophies. You win or you lose. It is black and white. And you lost. There is no other way to look at it. You can't beat me. You know it, I know it, and this roster knows it. You couldn't even beat Thomas Nixon. Now, you think you should be catapulted to the top of the list? You really must be delusional. You haven't won a match since SHOVE IT, and now, suddenly, you are the number one contender? That thought alone is hilarious to me. Sure, you attacked me after the Pay Per View. You have been a thorn in my side ever since. You have gotten my attention. Well, that was the worst mistake you could have made. What you should have done was go on with your life and career, win matches, and earn you way to the top. Then maybe sometime next year you could actually get another shot at the richest prize in the safe. Now, you have committed career suicide. You just couldn't leave well enough alone, could you? You have gotten my attention, and awoken the sleeping giant. You have stuck your nose in my business time and time again. The flaming limo.....that was foreplay. I told you that if you kept sticking your nose where it didn't belong I was going to chop it off. Now I have my chance. If I were you, Reno, I would save yourself the embarrassment. Putting out 5 sloppy promos that were hastily put together in a desperate attempt to prove you are worth more than your tee shirts, not a good look. Trust me. You look scared. You can see it from a mile away. You are nervous, and desperate. You are shitting your pants. You know this is your last shot. And now, you don't just have me to deal with but another champion, and a pissed off one at that, in Thomas Nixon. Quite frankly, you two are more suitable from a competition level. I should just let you two do battle and sit back with a cigar and a nice gin and tonic and pick up the scraps. I am the apex predator, and you, Reno, are my favorite prey.

But sometimes you need to know when to pick your battles. What would it look like if I didn't bring my A game? Well then I would have two more jackoffs, on top of those I already have, who think their shit doesn't smell and think they are worthy of a shot at this title. I would have to add two more to the list. I prefer another list. I prefer a victim list. I prefer to add two more names to that list, if any. So, be warned, I am coming. I am coming with a fury you haven't seen before. I am coming to prove that if there is an alpha male in this company it is ME. I am coming to prove that there isn't a single member of this roster than can hang with me in that ring. NOT. A. SINGLE. ONE. That, my grubby haired little friend, includes you. You have failed at every attempt to thwart my reign here, what makes Warfare any different? I look at this match as another obstacle. You see.....a lot of people ask what drives me? Well, it was the belt. Many people thought that I would take some time off, get healthy, and mail it in after winning the belt. That just isn't in my nature. What drives me now? To be the BEST the business has EVER seen. What drives me now is for people to look back at me, whenever it is my time comes to hang it up, and say "Goddamn.....that Chris Chaos was really the best at what he did". I got screwed worse than a Montreal stripper in PW, so this is a second chance for me of sorts. I refuse to let that second chance slip away.

Gabe, you have been nothing but an annoyance to me. You have been nothing but a stick in my craw. It will feel so good to finally close the chapter on the Gabe Reno book for good. It will feel so good to finally be free of the cancerous growth that has attached itself to me over the last month or so. Maybe you can make amends with Nixon after all this. Maybe you two can go play with the Lizards. Go join a Lizard liberation group. Maybe you two can save all the worlds lizards and stay out of the affairs of your superiors. That would be nice. Maybe you can go do that. But what I DO know you can do, Reno and Nixon, is you both can FUCK OFF. I will walk out of Warfare the same way I walked in.....The Universal Champion, the most dominant man in professional wrestling, the alpha male, and the absolute best.........at what........I......do."

Just as Chris was about to get up a cruise ship caterer came up to him with a tray. It had various seafood on it. "h'orderve sir?"

Chris nodded, taking a piece of sushi on a stick and popping it into his mouth before the camera faded to black.

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XWF RECORD: 19-3-2 and soon to be 20-3-2
XWF Universal Champion 1x (Current)
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