Saturday March 28th
10:50 P.M.
Amalie Arena
Immediately After Tag Team #1 Contender's Match

Quote:Maverick gets back on his apron and extends his hand frantically! Scully looks up and slaps it! Maverick is in! Angel moves over to his corner and Scythe is there to take the tag. He gets in but is holding his back. Maverick smiles at this.

He nails the Lights Out Spinebuster. He grabs the legs of Scythe and pulls him into...


PURE PERFECTION!


The Lion Tamer is expertly applied. He's really yanking back on it. Scythe has no option but to tap.

Winners: Scully & Maverick

The events that just transpired are still reeling about me as I run up to a turnbuckle, posing at the top. The crowd gave a mixed reaction, some boos, from them, naysayers and critics, and others, cheers, from them, appraisers.

I won.

I hopped off and watched in repulsiveness as Scully tried licking his own elbow. Not wanting to be a part of that, I threw up my arms, sighed and leaved the ring, leaving the resident to his own devices.

I have to admit, I actually did showboat as I walked up the ramp, throwing my arms to the sky, though it didn't matter as one thought continued to circulate throughout my mind.

I won.

To be perfectly honest, I honestly didn't expect to win, especially when Pest showed up. I thought my bad luck had caught up to me, that I'd crash and burn, like I had unfortunately back at Lethal Lottery. But still, I triumphed. I pressed on, not letting my victory being snatched by the bitter jaws of defeat.

Of course, even I had to give it to him, Scully did pull his own weight. Sure, not like he had much competition in the Lost Homos, but still, it's a start.

Now if he can keep this up against Sane and CorVus... I thought.

I won.

I continued sauntering up the steps, throwing myself behind the curtain, watching as the backstage area greeted me. A grin and a sigh of relief escaped me, as I dried myself off with a nearby towel as many wrestlers shot me a sideways glance. I knew they wouldn't care about me, no matter how rarely I've been winning nowadays, especially since many of these said wrestlers were warming up for their own matches coming up.

I slowly began walking back to my room, hands on my hips, that wide grin still plastered onto my face. As soon as I turned the corner...

FLASH!

A camera immediately blinded me, catching my stunned face. Behind the flashing camera, besides a photographer, of course, was a cameraman and the XWF's resident interviewer, Steven Sayors.

"M- Mister Maverick!" Sayors said, raising his hand up to stop me. "Do you have a minute to answer some of my questions?"

I slightly slumped forward, sighing. I HAD been looking forward to relaxing, but...

"Tell ya what, Steven," I said, "I just got done wrestling about a ten- minute match, and I'm wanting to take a shower, so as soon as I'm done here, I'll answer your silly little questions. That fine with you?"

Steve nodded his head, and so with that, I trudged forward, stepping into my locker room, the built- in shower room sitting at the back of the room.

I won.

As I stripped and stepped into the shower, feeling the hot water pulsate on my back, I finally let my mind wander for a bit. All of a sudden...

Hey.

My Mind- Dad. It seems as though he's going to continue being a manifest within my mind, as he was talking to me during the match. It wasn't much, really, other than the occasional, Look out for that move! At least, amongst other phrases.

Hey yourself, I responded back.

So... Sane and CorVus, huh?

Yep.

I was still growing accustomed to my Mind- Dad, and Mind- Dad was growing accustomed to walking free within my mind. Hence, the awkwardness.

I continued letting my mind wander, wandering past all the wins and losses, the trials and humiliations. Oh, how the mighty hath fallen.

I'll win.

The time began to tick by. Ten minutes... twenty minutes... a half an hour... a full hour... my internal clock was thrown out of the loop as I sighed, letting my sore muscles feel the scalding water.

After about five to ten more minutes of the steamy water going over my body, I turned off the faucet, the water immediately coming to a stop. The steam began to dissipate as I threw open the door to the showers, and I was met by a camera and-- STEVE SAYORS!

"GAH!" I blushed as I pulled the tower closer, meanwhile Steve was looking as eager as a fat kid at a candy store, eager to ask questions. "AT LEAST WAIT UNTIL I GET CHANGED!"

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Sunday March 29th
12:10 A.M.
Amalie Arena
Fifteen Minutes Until Lethal Lottery Semi- Finals

"And we are live in 3..... 2....... 1..........., and go!" With a snap of his fingers, Steve wheeled around in his chair, holding a handful of index cards, along with a microphone. I sat down next to him, wearing a Maverick t- shirt, and some faded jeans. My legs were folded, hands at my lap, hoping to be as casual as possible.

"Hello everyone, I am the XWF's resident interviewer, Steve Sayors, and if you've been keeping up with the action thus far tonight, you'd know we are fifteen minutes away from Lethal Lottery's semi- finals! My guest at this time, is Maverick! Maverick won his match- a tag team match- earlier in the night, teaming with Scully to take down the Lost Souls and secure themselves a Tag Team title shot against Defiance! So, Maverick, how are you doing?"

"I have to tell you, Steve, I'm doing fine."

"Hey, that's great! We have had an action- packed night thus far, and it's only going to get bigger with the climactic conclusion to Lethal Lottery! So tell me, who do you suspect is going to go the distance? To win it all here, on the grand stage?"

"Honestly, Steve? I could care less about Lethal Lottery. Right now, I got my eyes on two straps of gold right now, and those are those Tag Team titles."

"Oh- ho- ho! That's right! You were THE man to submit Scythe with the Pure Perfection, and now you have yourself a Tag Team title shot. Tell me, how do you feel with your odds?"

"Honestly, Steve? I feel really comfortable against Sane and CorVus. I set out with what I accomplished to do, and that was beat the Lost Homos. They tried putting up a fight, but really, what happened here was that they were the first of many stepping stones on my Path of Perfection. I am going to right my wrongs here in the XWF. For nearly three decades, I have fought, I have bled, I have shed tears to be noticed in the halls of stardom, and now, as soon as I beat Sane and CorVus for those Tag Team titles, I am going to finally carve my name into the upper echelon of the locker room." I felt pretty proud of myself for that speech, but a look of concern came across Steve's face. As soon as I arched an eyebrow, about to inquire what may be wrong, he righted himself.

"Oh, uh, you see, Maverick," Steve began, poking his fingers, "...there may be a problem."

"Oh?" My eyebrow arched ever higher, curiosity peaking.

"Right before the Intercontinental title match took place... Shane thought CorVus was him... but because he wasn't, Shane turned back the clock, stripping CorVus of the Intercontinental Title, giving the title back to Sebastian Duke, and the briefcase used back to Justin Sane."

I bit my lip in anger. Damn... I thought. I have to be on the lookout then. Even though Sane will be likely to use his briefcase on D'Ville, that doesn't mean he won't try to get his Tag Titles back if we win.

"A- and that's not all," he continued. "You see, Shane also arrested CorVus."

A sigh of relief escaped me. "Oh, jeez, so they had to switch out like the pussies they were? Alright, who did they switch out to? Fernando? Fuck, this may actually be a bit more of a challenge, but I know I can take Fernando."

"Erm, actually, no."

"What, is that fucker Shane gonna force himself in, in a strange turn of events? Might be strange, but that won't deter me! I'll make that fucker choke on his own shit- filled condoms!"

"Uh, no. You see... it's Gator, Maverick."

My entire body froze in place, jaw hanging limply. My eyes were the size of quarters, round in shock and fear. My mind went blank until my Mind- Dad seemed to jump- start it.

What... he began.

The... I continued.

Fuck.

"Well..." I muttered. "This just escalated quickly."

"Mav? You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." I whipped myself back into shape, circling my head around and giving myself a few light slaps. "Alright, listen up. I don't know Gator wants to let himself be seen with that title- buying fascist Justin Sane. I mean, fuck, Gator works hard, usually, for his shit. Now he decides to play Hot Po- fucking- tato with Sane and CorVus? I mean, fuck, Fernando would have seen like the more logical choice, the dude fails even when he has the element of surprise, having Heyman in his corner against D'Ville. He keeps getting all these free title shots, so I'm wondering, why not give the free title to the dipshit who tries and fails with title shots? I mean, fuck, I may not be much better, but at least I know when to call it quits with a title opportunity!"

"Alright, alright. Gator. I'd make a Lazarus joke, but then you'd act like a whiny fucking bitch about it, make that incessant high- pitched wail you always make whenever we see something not go your way. I really don't even want to try with you. I mean, fuck, the holes that will likely be in your promos for our match will be bigger than your gaping vagina, and that's a goddamned achievement. I mean, fuck. You're a person of 'rare intelligence.' And by that, I mean it's rare when you ever show any. Shit, you're an accomplished superstar who has held the TV title twice, both for a very long time, alright, I can give you that. So, why, why did you team of with those title shot- stealing, title- buying sons- of- bitches known as Sane, Fernando, and CorVus? I mean, the Asylum aren't going bat- shit crazy, interfering in matches like they used to. Right, Sayors? Wasn't that the reason they formed?"

"Oh, uh," Sayors responded, fumbling around with his words. "I'll, uh, go check the video footage."

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Quote:Justin Sane: “You stupid.. morons. Did you seriously think you were going to keep getting away with this? Sticking your noses in places where they don't belong? Well, we got a news flash for you. Things change, tonight. No longer will the Asylum run roughshod on the XWF locker room, taking out who they please, whenever they see fit. I am sick to fucking death of listening to you freaks come out here week in and week out, slinging your jaws about some almighty 'Higher Power'. Like anybody here actually gives a fuck.”

"You see my point? So go. Disband. Hasta la vista. Not like anybody here will give two shits when you disband."

"So, Maverick," Steve said, gaining his composure back, "Is there anything else you'd like to say before we sign off?"

Chuckling, I gave the camera a defiant grin (Haha, see what I did there?), saying, "Defiance is just a bunch of title- buying, Hot Potato- ing, ass ramming ."

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Friday, April 3rd
3:27 P.M.
Mind of Maverick
Five Days Until Wednesday Night Warfare

Defiance.

It's a funny word, really, especially for the people that they've branded themselves with.

I'm in a meditating position, within a soulless, black void inside my mind, just... thinking. Reflecting on past events.

I think of my career... as a roller coaster. The track began before I debuted, calling out that open challenge. Then, the track began climbing higher and higher, from me going on a slight winning streak against a few rookies, and winning the X-treme Championship. Then a slight bump in the road, from me losing the title fairly quickly, though it managed to shoot up extremely fast, from War Games, and defeating Samuels.

Then came the drop.

The drop was almost vertical, from nearly winning every match to losing bar none. Every week was a loss.

Loss.

Loss.

It was a word I was branded with, these days. Whether going up against the likes of Heartsford, or Mastermind, I was pretty much doomed to enter the black hole of defeat.

But there was new life waiting to spring through.

I had submitted Scythe back at Lethal Lottery, earning me and Scully a Tag Team title shot.

Here are the facts- Me and Scull against Sane and Gator. Sane and Gator are best friends, always on the same page, whereas myself and Scully frequently wage war with one another.

Both Sane and Gator are former Superstars of the month-- hell, Gator's a two- time Superstar of the Month, and Gator has won multiple championships, and Sane has won a briefcase...

Meanwhile all I have to show is a two- day X-treme title reign.

"Require some assistance that only a father, or in this case, a mind- father can teach his son?"

I gasped, my Mind- Dad appearing right behind me, sitting, cross- legged.

"Sit, Joshua." Not in the mood to argue, I immediately sat and payed heed to my father's words. "Let's be honest here, I'm not going to beat around the bush. Gator and Sane have the upper hand on you in terms of victories, in terms of accolades, not to mention Sane has the strength and technique, and I haven't seen a submission hold yet that has left Gator unable to escape."

My face fell. How was I supposed to bring confidence to this match when my own father- okay, sorry, mind- father- was putting me down?

He wasn't finished yet, though. "But, you should still have hope. We have not heard a peep out of Sane ever since his loss at the Lethal Lottery tournament, and because of that, I think it's safe to believe he probably won't be showing up for this. Not to mention, you should know Scully is no pushover. He held his own during War Games, and was on one of the winning teams."

"But you... you represent heart, you represent pure... pure tenacity. No matter what life throws at you, you just keep on going. You've been taking a- licking, and you still keep a- tickin'."

"That doesn't change the fact that I'm still worried about this match, though."

All of a sudden, Mind- Dad sighed. "I suppose then, it's time I help you train."