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Chris Chaos · (07-14-2018)

"We are gathered here today to remember a man who was special to a lot of us......"

The weather was nice today. About 75, a slight breeze from the southwest, not a cloud in the sky. A group a people, all dressed in black, stood around an assortment of head stones in a graveyard behind a Wal-Mart.

"....his life was ended far too soon by a man and a woman so much better than him in every way. A man who resembled a Viking, and spoke about as well as one. A man who could make you laugh by simply walking into a room. A man who you couldn't hold a conversation with without him rambling on about the Illuminati. A man who had more facial hair than most domesticated animals. A man who we all grew to knew as Jim Caedus."

Chris stood on a podium, dressed in a RIP shirt and a pair of dress pants, his belt was a plane seat belt buckle. His hair was up in a bun. Standing to his left was a woman who was clearly Jenny Myst, a large black hat with a flowy veil covering the the majority of her face. A small smile cracked her lips.

Next to the headstone of Caedus were matching ones that read "ROBBIE BOURBON'S DIET PLAN, PETER GILMOUR'S SELF-RESPECT, AZRAEL EREBUS'S ACID PILLS, ROBERT MAIN LIPS: THE WORLDS BEST ASS KISSING LIPS, MICHEAL GRAVES'S CAREER, FINN KUHN'S GERMAN HERITAGE.

They all sat in a circle around the grave of Caedus, which was the biggest. On his, it had carved in letters proclaiming his name, his birthdate and death date, and a list of his accomplishments. The top one read "Prolapsing Robert Main's asshole".

"......We remember Jim Caedus as a man who had done many things. Although he would often reference gay situations and try to spin them on his opponents, he did date Tala Sugay for a bit. Some people enjoy chicks with dicks."

This time Jenny snorted a little, but kept her head down to conceal her giggle.

"So we stand here today, looking at these head stones, knowing that everyone of these represent something special to the XWF which has died. Robert Main did a bang up job burying the body, he even picked this wonderful discount lot behind the local Long Beach Wal-Mart. Roll 'em back, right?!"

Some of the people in the crowd muttered.

"Here, on this Friday the 13th, we look at the only thing standing in the way of Chris Chaos winning the 24/7 briefcase. All of these stones represent dead things that were once obstacles, but now lay here as reminders. Jim Caedus was once the biggest foe, the biggest threat to Chaos, and now here he lay, with Robert Main's tears draped all over him. Robbie Bourbon was once a monster of a man, and actually in decent shape for his size. Here lies any hope of Bourbon ever running a 10 minute mile. Next to that lies the self respect of arguably the biggest punchline that XWF ever had. The knee slapper of a joke who was more fun to trigger than anyone else, and the man who looks oddly like the circus freak Fatback. Next to that lies the pills that made a simple man with peroxide bleached hair believe he could be Buzz Lightyear. I hope these tabs go to infinity and beyond, because he sure isn't! Then we have the lips of Robert Main. Oh Robert, what a tortured soul. The man who loved Jim like Geppetto loved Pinocchio. The man who bought into all of Jim's lies and false claims. He would sit on Jim's face and wait for that long nose to grow, rolling his eyes back and mumbling something about "Daddy". Oh, those were the days. Those lips could suck the chrome off a Harley. May they rest in eternal peace. That brings me to Micheal Graves and the career he claims he had. This part time gig was the only thing that kept that old rusty train running, and bless him for holding onto it as long as he could. Finally, Finn Kuhn's German heritage, buried here in all of its glory, as the man who once told the world he was going to be the next Führer now sits with no identity, no pride, no soul and no talent. We are here to remember these things."

Many people in the crowd were crying at this point. Over the top, dramatic, ugly-crying.

Jenny used a piece of Jim's contract to dab her leaky eyes.

"Let us pray."

The crowd all grabbed hands. Chris and Jenny held hands. Chris spoke again.

"Oh Empire.......those almighty rulers of the wrestling world, we ask you to please to sweep the Leap of Faith Pay Per View. Please, Empire, let Jenny Myst make Madison Dyson beg her to stop. Let Chris Chaos win the briefcase and cash in on the most overrated champion since Jimmy Boy here. Please, oh please, Empire, we beg of you."

The crowd said "Amen" all at once.

Chris then looked up and saw a hooded figure with his pants down, shitting on Finn Kuhn's heritage head stone.

"HEY! We are holding a ceremony here!"

The hooded figure pulled his hood down. It was NAZI. Chris smiled.

"Okay......finish the dump. Then, eat some more of that shitty food you people have over there and finish the job. While we are here, you may as well sprinkle a little mud butt on Graves, Gilly, Bourbon, Erebus and Jim. Don't give any to Main, though, he has eaten enough ass in his day. Give Jim two scoops."

Nathaniel smiled and grunted, spraying Finn's stone and getting some ass residue on the nearby stones.

Chris put out his hand and Jenny reached into her bag. She handed him a black spray bottle. He shook it up and bent down over Jim's stone.

"Here's to you, Jimmy. May you forever be an example of the power of Empire"

Chris sprayed the letters across the head stone, in bold, huge lettering.

E M P I R E

Chris stepped off the podium, spraying each stone as he spoke.

"Peter, perk up buddy. You were just part of one of the most dramatic, ratings-driving and chaotic endings to Warfare we have had in a while. Peter Gilmour on his ass is always a good way to end a show. I am sure you have some questions, though, about why we did what we did and why we chose who we chose. Well, lets be honest with ourselves here, Peter. NAZI is rock solid. Nathaniel may be one of the best we have here. NAZI is top tier, but even that doesn't matter as much to me. You want to know what it is Peter? Nazi has done something you have tried several times before, and have NEVER done. Nazi beat me. He beat me fair and square. I have dominated every time I have faced you Peter, and now Jenny has a W over you as well. I would respect you a lot more if you could hold your own against me, but time and time again you've proven that you are a B list celebrity here. Time and time again you've proven you are barely keeping your head above water while I have already reached the shore and headed on the next stage of the adventure. Peter your doggy paddle act gets old. You wonder why people give you so much flack? You wonder why nobody respects you? Because you're more of an airhead than your ink-poisoned "girlfriend". You lose and all you do is complain, make idle threats for a few days, say things that get under people's skin, then tell you're opponent you're going to kick their ass. Every single time, like a CD on repeat. But you don't kick their ass, do you Peter? No. You lose, often in hilarious fashion, and then the cycle of broken promises to be more than just a prop begin. Then you lose again. It is a vicious cycle. Hell, I would be mad too if I was a Top 50 superstar whose only criteria is that people felt bad for me. I can see why you are mad, Peter. You're given title shots, Top 50 plaques to hang on your wall, the best gimmick matches, superstars of the month excerta......all because we can to keep you hanging around so we can continue to laugh at you. Life gets hectic around here Peter, and you're our prop comedy. You're our comic relief. You're the part of our day that keeps us enjoying coming back to work. The one thing we all have in common, as much as most of us hate each other, is that we can come together, share a smoke and a drink, and talk about how much Peter Gilmour sucks. So Peter, at this point in your career, if you can call it a career (it's barely a job for you), the best thing that could happen to you is to grab the case with the termination papers. Hang up those 3 XL shorts, peel off that sweaty tank top with the logo that looks like it was voted on by a 5th grade art class and drawn by a 4th grade one, unzip those velcroe boots of yours and set them on top of the fridge, your favorite place, and sit back, kick it, and watch as Empire takes over the company that Vinnie is rapidly letting slip away.

Speaking of fat, overpaid and overvalued sacks of gaseous shit, we have Robbie Bourbon in this match. How many times is Robbie going to be given an opportunity to fuck up under the bright lights before management realizes that he just doesn't give enough of a shit to be considered for these events. Also, do we even have a zip line with enough test to hold someone of Robbie's frame? Hell, he will probably crash and burn on the ramp before he even reaches the X-Tron. I mentioned it before and I will say it again, Robbie thinks he is bigger than the XWF. He doesn't give a shit if he wins this briefcase or not. He doesn't care if he even gets booked in matches. Robbie thinks he has all the answers, just ask him. He is a computer nerd who tries to slick talk and makes homemade--literally--promo's from whatever government funded condo he lives in with an ambiguous Shrek stunt double with blue hair. He puts in so little effort, its astonishing. Its offensive, actually. If Robbie put in half the effort into being halfway relevant in the XWF as he does to squeezing into that onsie to play pretend, he could hold every belt here. The man behind the mask is nothing but a gutless coward who is going to bomb the XWF airwaves with 14 promos, most of which say nothing, and the rest crammed with cornball jokes that only the cashier at his local Gamestop thinks are funny. Hey, everyone's got a crowd, right? Remember when Robbie thought he was a super hero? Facts are facts, Robbie only beat me because he got helped by some English cockstain we haven't seen since. Robbie can't get it done on his own, and he never has. Remember when he won the Universal Title? Who'd he take it off of? James Raven, a man more inconsistent than Cadryn's gimmick selections. James Raven, arguably the biggest let down in recent XWF history. It isn't much, Robbie, to take the belt off Jimmy. It was at this event last year that Robbie shocked the world and Robbiebombed his way into a title reign that would end with him no-showing twice and being stripped on national television. Back then, James Raven was the next big thing. He was a rockstar. Everyone thought maybe, just maybe, Robbie Bourbon was turning a corner. Then, what happened? The same thing he accuses me of. His ego took over and his head became to big for his body, which by the way is MASSIVE, and he just stopped caring. He became a part time champion in a company that demands a lot of even their lower tier champions. Robbie's title reign would end like Jimmy's Carters presidency, a painful, drunken memory of time that had been utterly wasted. Even if Robbie does win the briefcase with the contract, and does cash in on Engy, does anyone really think he has another title run in him? Robbie only cares about one thing............okay two things. Worcester Sauce and Robbie Bourbon. He could care less if we want him to be a good champion, he would rather sit behind a keyboard and hide from the only people in his life who can hurt him........

Because Robbie, I think I've proven I CAN hurt you. And I will.

Then we have Caitlyn Jenner......err...Chaz Bono.....err....shit, whats his name, Israel something? It doesn't matter. He is a "guy" whose legacy was once the iconic Black Circle but has recently become holding the Jenny Craig version of XWF gold. A "dude" who has proven he can hang with the best hash cafe stoners and could do a bang up job as a fill in host for Ancient Aliens, but not so much as a wrestler. He has wins over Mandii Rider, thanks to Jenny, and Tommy Wish. Besides that, he has been beaten like a senator's wife by every opponent he has faced. Azrael Erebus, the man with a name that sounds oddly Scandinavian, has been underwhelming since his return. The aura is gone, the allure of this spaghetti haired nobody, is a flame quickly extinguishing. A flame that, depending on who you ask, was blown out before it was ever fully lit. The only reason he, we're going with he now right?, is in this match is because he isn't a current champion and is one tier above the Drezdins and Mezian's and we didn't have another spot for him. What has he done to earn this match except lose to every top tier name he has faced? Tommy Wish doesn't even count as a win, because Wish would lose a flag football game at a camp for the handicapped. Wish couldn't beat a senior citizen. His "signature win" is yet to come. Maybe it is Leap of Faith? Probably not. Hell, he would have lost to Mandii Rider too without Jenny's help. Spaceman needs to re-evaluate his status here. He certainly has had a lot to say about Jenny and I in recent weeks. Listen here, ET, you come at me sideways again and I will slap the spit out of your mouth. You haven't stepped in the ring with someone like me before, and you probably never will again. This is a chaotic environment, the type I thrive in. This is the type of match designed for me to win. I am going to win that briefcase and cash in on the Engineer while you continue to float up and down the ranks until you find a title that suits you best. Federweight comes to mind. You are the wildcard in this match, the longshot, I'll give you that. I will never be able to wrap my head around why someone who has done nothing but lose gets a shot at a briefcase in arguably the defining match for this company. It's wacky science that I'll never get. Facts are facts, you are here. Now, it is my job to knock you down a few pegs and show you that here, on earth, it is MY world, and chaos reigns supreme.

Which leads me to Robert Main.

Oh, Robert, I have been waiting for this moment. You've been doing a damn good job of avoiding me ever since I broke up AX3 and you took your ball and went home because you weren't being catered to anymore. I have been waiting to be in the ring with you ever since management decided you were just some guy who they were tired of booking in big time matches that drew worse ratings than Floribama Shore. So you left in a huff, and we thought the era of perhaps the most piggy backed superstar in the history of this business was over. That title now belongs to Micheal Graves. You came back without an identity, without a purpose, without a face. You needed to badly to be like someone you looked up to......so you came back looking like Caedus. The Kurt Cobain haircut, the lumberjack facial hair and a sense of style taken from the Gangland episodes about biker gangs of the 90's. You left as a nobody and came back as a gimmick. You've been able to keep your title because you haven't had a real challenge for it. I mean, fuck me sideways, but the line isn't super long to go after a title that is a middle of the line belt that is only a fraction less gaudy than the Bombshell. Dolly Waters made the Hart Title relevant, and now you're carrying around a pink and white strap with your head in the clouds because you've beaten exactly nobody while defending it. Now you have to go up against real comeptition and its all catching up to you. This tough guy act you put on. A facade. The REAL Robert Main died with AX3. You may think you have "unfinished business" with me, and that's just fine. I understand. I'll just do what I should have done last year and stomp you into the ground. You need to learn respect, Main. While you struggle to speak in sentences that don't sound like a 10 year old girl on a sugar rush, you need to reach deeeeeep down and find some respect. Respect for the man that built you. Respect for the man who made AX3 more than a group of four outcasts. You also need to slow down and realize what you are saying. If you're going to attempt to insult me, vowing revenge like the protagonist in every action movie ever made, you need to at least understand WHAT you are talking about.

Case and point:

The Man With Earth's Widest Asshole Said:I want the man who was too coward to face Jim face to face to know everything he cares about has evaporated away into nothing, right before I cut his throat. What then? I have no idea! I don't care what's next honestly! This disgust will bring me to put you down once and for all. Bitterness tells me that your unborn children should be exterminated because they’d become conniving vermin just like their father

"Whoa, whoa there killer. Put down the Fun Dip and wipe your mouth........jesus.

FIRST OF ALL

Too coward to face Jim? I fought him five times. I'm man enough to admit that I have never beaten Jim Caedus. One time he was awarded a victory when I passed out in an I Quit match, but I never said the words I Quit. He didn't beat me, I just lost too much blood. It happens, the spoils of war. Jim needed validation, much like you do. Jim needed everyone to pat him on the back and tell him how good he was so he could smile at us with his yellow teeth behind that whispy beard and grunt his approval. Jim Caedus was good, don't get me wrong. Perhaps one of the best we've ever seen, but Jim was messed up. Jim thought the world was out to get him and lived his life looking over his shoulder. Fuck the government, the banks were corrupt, everyone was trying to fuck him over, you couldn't make an honest wage anymore.......Jim was one of those fucks you'd see sitting on his porch drinking a Natty Ice tall boy telling his grandkids how good the old days were. Jim had brute strength and was crazier than a mental patient. This was a man you modeled yourself after? It shows. You're off your rocker. You belong in a padded room, too. You see, Main....I think I have this figured out. You looked up to Caedus because he was everything you couldn't be. He was the figure head for success here, and you were barely a coffee getting intern compared to him. You had a high school crush on him because you were in awe of him. You wanted to be just like him so you rimmed his asshole any chance you got. Jim was everything to you because as long as Jim was famous, so were you. If Jim was successful, so were you. You knew this. That is why we never got along. When I joined AX3 with the sole purpose of taking your boyfriends title, you got salty. You hated me because as long as I was around, you had to hide your boner. You wanted to let that shit stand proud in all of its 3 inch glory, but around me you had to dial it back. That is why you have hated me, because I challenged the very religion you built your foundation on.........I challenged the Jim Caedus way. I threw a monkey wrench into your plans to VD and trapping him into a relationship. You two were going to go retire in a newly furnished RV somewhere and take turns giving each other compliments. Robert, you can claim Caedus was your brother but you obviously had you're head too far up his back side to realize his true intentions. Jim Caedus only cared about himself. He wouldn't have pissed on a fire to put you out, but here you are going all vigilante to avenge his death. Are you that fucking pathetic? Do I even need to ask that?

The Living Vericose Vein Said:For me, this isn’t about winning a fucking briefcase and getting a shot at the most coveted prize in the business!

"Then why the fuck do you bother? You could get a shot any time you wanted? Then why haven't you? Because you're content, that is why. You've found a niche and you refuse to take on new challenges. You know The Engineer would rip you apart. You see, Robert, you don't have the success you want because you don't know who you are. You're moonlighting as Jim Caedus because he was the only one who ever made your nuts tingle. Now that he is gone, you can dress, talk, walk and act like him all you desire but Robert.......you'll never be Jim Caedus. Jim was a champion, you just hold a belt. I'm glad he's dead. After Leap of Faith, you're career is going to be stiff and rotten just like the idol you doppelganger for.

Micheal Graves has quite a bit to say, didn't he? He always does. Peeking out from behind Cadryn's shadow to bark before disappearing and letting his friend do all his heavy lifting. Micheal Graves holds onto a belt now that he wouldn't have of Cadryn didn't pull a magic trick out of his ass, and we all know this. Graves has made quite the return......being carried by someone half his size yet again. The old friends re-unite. A career filled with B plus performances, never getting over that hump on his own, and finally he has some semblance of gold and accomplishment to show for it. Graves has a new sense of confidence as well, as he has settled into his role as being second best, once again. Second best has always been the best for the Gravy Train. A once beaten down, broken man is now no more than an antique car with a missing motor but shiny new rims. A polished turd that is giving it one more go-around before the AARP kicks in and he can retire in Venice, Florida with the other blotchy skin tatoo canvasses. Graves has always settled, and has always tried to be the good guy in a bad world. How has that worked out for him? Graves has been the epitome of average throughout his entire career. Sure, he is 1-1 versus me in singles matches, and has a win over a lard-ass that counts against me in recent weeks. Graves seems to have a lot to say about how Chris Chaos has "fallen off". If I have fallen off, Graves, then you've never been on. I started off white hot, true, but you started off as a joke. I've been a wave, up and down, but you've been consistently a joke. A leech? Me? You may want to re-evaluate your status here and make sure that Cadryn has a freshly made sandwich and comes home to a clean house. Without Cadryn Tiberius, who by the way I have also never lost to in singles competition, you would be nothing. Hell you're still nothing, but now you have a 20 pound piece of gold to "back up" your shit talk. I've held more titles in the last few months than you've held in your career. At this point, you are nothing but a saggy skinned has been with bad tattoos and I've-Just-Been-Fucked hair. You're a shaggy mess. A total grease fire. You've never been able to find yourself because each new persona you take on is just as flawed as the previous. The "Dark Warrior", a face painted clown who tried high-risk daring moves to try to gain approval. Then you decided to be Ross from friends with a discount leather jacket and a bad hair part. Then you were a child-abducting, Rob Zombie version of Mr. Ding-a-Ling who wore a clearance rack Predator mask. Green isn't your color Graves. Now you're back to the "Dark Warrior" persona but your body is too broken down to do what you attempted last time. Now you look like Mickey Rouke from the wrestler, without the feel good story. You're nothing but a washed up alsoran who still clings to some hope that someone, somewhere, will still give a shit. You'll probably die in that ring at Leap of Faith, and if you do, tell Jimmy I said Hi.

"That brings me to Finn Kuhn. The universe's biggest disappointment. The man who went from winning a tournament to being irrelevant in the snap of a finger. The man who voluntarily teamed up with the XWF's resident

and thought it would be a good idea. Paragon.....that sounds more like a coffee shop band trying to make their way for nickel tips than it does a wrestling stable. You see, Finn, you've been making one bad decision after another. I joined up with Peter strategically. What motive did you have to pick Scully? Maybe because he was the only one who would give you a lick of attention? The only one who would listen to your bullshit without writing you off as batshit crazy? Scully was marginally successful with his "rapist" partner, what made him think a fake German who plays king and dresses like Justin Bieber would be a good idea? I can never understand Scully, but trying to understand him is above my pay grade. You, Finn, have been shown up by a REAL German. NAZI has come in and done your gimmick better than you. Unlike you, he actually has that German killer instinct. You're about as harsh as strong cologne, Finn. You don't intimidate anyone. You probably won't even show up to this match because deep down inside you have no chance. Peter Gilmour has a better chance of winning this thing than you do. You got lucky once, and I'll give you that, but your body of work has left much to be desired. Your body of work is lackluster, to be generous. In this match, where the lights are perhaps the brightest they have ever been, you are going to fall flat on your face yet again and continue to prove all of your doubters right. Finn Kuhn is nothing but a loser who is destined to live in his parents basement until he is in his 30's, getting an allowance and refusing to mow the lawn until his video game is beaten. Priorities, Finn. I don't think they are here. I'm just being honest.

When he was done, each stone said EMPIRE across it in bold spray paint and each one was speckled in shit from the only man to beat Chris Chaos in 2018......and the only man who will.

LONG

LIVE

EMPIRE

The three of them walked off into the now setting sun, the horizon swallowing them as they laughed in glee.

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