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~~Mister Mystery 17 31707 1~~ · **03-28-2013, 09:30 PM**

Dodge of a running lariat-

A followup running bulldog that takes the hockey mask wearing freak down-

I had almost forgotten how quick and agile Sid really was. It's been a long time since Sid and I have sparred like this.

The basement of the original Feder household was still set up much like an in-home mini gym and still even had the makeshift wrestling ring that Sid's father used to practice in when he was young. To those that have paid attention to the Feder legacy, it's no secret that wrestling has been running through this family's bloodline for what seems like an eternity. Sid Feder himself was actually the last one to get involved in wrestling -- the late bloomer as some might call him.

Still though, Sid was far from being an underachiever. There have been many claims by wrestling enthusiasts that Sid himself was by far the most successful of the entire Feder bunch; having won multiple championships and honors when he was very young, long before he ever came to the X-treme Wrestling Federation in 2012 where he only continued his astonishing level of performance even after taking five years off from wrestling altogether.

Others have claimed that it was Sid's brother who accomplished the most, but without getting into too much detail there, those accomplishments weren't exactly honorable ones. That might be a good story for another day.

You've also got those who would claim that it was Sid's father who was by far the most prominent of all the Feders when it came to the wrestling business. The man was one hell of a workhorse and had a very strict code about him, much like a lot of the wrestling industry did back in the glory days. Sid's father began his wrestling career at age 13 due to his own father (therefore Sid's grandfather) having some tight connections with some of the top bookers in the industry. Even though he was 13, the kid could pass himself as much older due to his natural size and ability. He also was quite the ladies man apparently, seeing as he got two different girls pregnant before he was even at the ripe age of 14. One of them would give birth to Sid and the other gave birth to Sid's infamous brother who often gets left out of the record books due to some rather questionable tactics.

With Mister Mystery recently revealing that his last name is in fact FEDER (in his "Dear Donathan" presentation earlier in the week) that begs the question -- which one is he?

Don't worry though; John Madison doesn't care which one he is. To John Madison it's still Sid Feder under the mask.

Fuck; that damned dropkick of Sid's is even faster than I remember it being.

Mister Mystery and Sid Feder continue to go at it full force, just like they used to do years back except Mystery didn't have a protective mask on in those days. Sid always was the quicker of the two but Mystery's power and determination would often catch up with Sid after enough time elapsed.

Sid whips Mister Mystery to the ropes-

Sid springboards off the opposite ones-

3 x Better Forearm to the big man and Mystery barely budges.

There we go -- Sid forgot about my mask. Time to take this one home.

Sid drops down after that flying forearm and yells out-

:3 x Better:
God fucking dammit; that blasted mask!

Sid has a steel implant in his forearm from an old motorcycle accident many years back (sound familiar?) but that was no match for the reenforced mask that Mister Mystery wears on his face at all times. Long ago Sid busted that move out and knocked his sparring partners out cold with it.

All is fair in the Feder basement and I knew that as I pried Sid up from the mat and threw him over my shoulders to administer a torture rack that would put Lex Luger to shame even in his prime. Within seconds I felt the exact thing I knew I'd be feeling -- the tapping of Sid's hand on my forearm to let me know I'd won this one. Ahhh -- just like old times.

Mister Mystery sets Sid down on his feet and Sid stumbles back to catch his balance on the ropes. Sid rubs his forearm as some of the holes from Mister Mystery's mask remain indented into his flesh temporarily.

:3 x Better:
Oh I'll get'cha next time you mother. You know it too.

:MM 17 31707 1:
Not a chance in hell.

Mister Mystery laughs and steps between the ropes to walk over to the water cooler. He pours himself a cup of water and begins to peel the mask up and off of his face just as the camera fades to black.

He was right though -- he'd get me next time. I knew it; he knew it; it's how it's always been. There is no weak link among the Feders. We take names, we win championships, we succeed, and we brag about it -- you know; the exact opposite of what somebody with the last name Madison ever does.

On Steve Sayors' new interview set

Steve Sayors is sitting behind a desk as Mister Mystery and Sid both sit across from him on a set very much resembling that of a classic late night talk show. It looks a lot like this set except without these two

present-

Thank god neither of them are here, right? Look at that homo waving; he looks familiar. Isn't he XWF's lead janitor who tries to brag to others about somehow calling the shots as he continues to plateau as only the 5th best toilet bowl cleaner on the custodial team? Again -- let's be glad that image was only to give us an example of what Steve Sayors' new set was based off of. What a relief.

Moving on -- Steve Sayors goes ahead and begins addressing the camera from his desk.

:Sayors:
I'm sitting here with Sid Feder and Mister Mystery.

As soon as Steve opens with that line, Sid rolls his eyes and lets out a really loud huff.

:3 x Better:
You know Sayors I really didn't miss these moments. I've been back in your presence for just a matter of minutes and you're already pissing me off. How about you start again and introduce us properly? I think you left off part of my name; perhaps something that has to do with the number three?

Steve pauses for just a second and realizes Sid could very well jump over the desk and knock him senseless if he doesn't appease him, so he looks to the camera and starts again.

:Sayors:
I'm sitting here with Three Times Better Sid Feder and Mister Mystery. We're going to be talking abou-

Mister Mystery slams his heavy hand down on the desk and Steve Sayors' cup of coffee jumps into the air and lands on its side, spilling the coffee in Steve's direction as much of it flows off the edge and onto Steve's pants. Steve pushes his chair back and lets out a yelp, jumping to his feet and doing the "oh fuck I just got my legs and vag burnt by coffee" dance while Sid starts to laugh his ass off. Mister Mystery isn't laughing though; he stands to his feet and grabs the spilled over cup and launches it across the set where it smashes into something off camera.

:MM 17 31707 1:
So you can get Sid's name right but not mine? How are you going to remember the one number in his name but forget all eight numbers in my name? Start again or you'll be wishing all that happened was a coffee burn you wretched little weasel. Now sit your ass down and fold your hands together on that desk so the coffee can burn your arms too.

Steve Sayors does the hot coffee pants dance a few more seconds but finally forces himself to sit down even though he's still in a lot of pain. This is one of those cases where a man like Steve Sayors or John Madison both are at an advantage though -- no manhood means less shit to worry about when getting burned by coffee in your lower regions. What a relief this should be for Steve. He folds his hands together on top of the desk just as Mister Mystery ordered him to do and he cringes a little before once again attempting to start this interview segment right.

:Sayors:
I'm sitting here with Three Times Better Sid Feder and Mister Mystery 17 31707 3. We're going to be discussing several pressing issues as we draw closer to Gau-

POP! -- Now that was a pop and we didn't even need a gun going off at a cop to make it happen. All we had to have was Mister Mystery reach across the desk and pop Sayors clean in the nose. His whole chair falls backwards and he rolls out of it and down the couple of stairs that led up to the elevated platform the desk was on.

:MM 17 31707 1:
Son of a bitch. My name doesn't end with the number three! You got the numbers wrong. How exactly do you intend to interview either of us when you can't even remember who we are? Who the fuck is Mister Mystery 17 31707 3? Can I meet him? Can I have his autograph? You pay about as much attention to the world around you as Sebastian Duke and his Nazi buddy.

Steve Sayors remains on the ground with blood trickling out of his nostrils and all over himself; he looks to be completely unconscious from just that one punch.

:MM 17 31707 1:
What are you going to pull a John Madison now and lay around after taking just one hit from me? Reminds me of when he was "reffing" my match last weekend and I speared the bloody hell out of him!

Mister Mystery flips the desk toward Steve and it lands on him as Sid Feder takes the chairs on the set and begins throwing them around.

:3 x Better:
Fuck it! Let's trash this place!

Sid takes a box cutter off of his belt and starts to cut up one of the nicely cushioned chairs that he threw and he flings the stuffing up into the air like it's snow. Next he begins chasing members of the production crew with the box cutter while Mister Mystery picks up the long-handled axe that he had brought out with him and had lying on the floor at his feet this entire time. Mister Mystery starts chopping away at the desk that Steve Sayors is under.

:3 x Better:
Yeah, Double M! You better chop as hard as you can and rescue Steve from under that desk before he suffocates. Keep chopping until all you see is red!

:MM 17 31707 1:
Oh you bet your ass I will. I'll save him -- I'm coming Steve, you hold tight!

to be, or not to be, continued -- that is the question

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Gladiators' blood is thicker than a single madman's dribbling piss -- RP7
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