"Some days the only thing that can cure the blues is the smell of fresh pine and gun powder from the AK-47 you’re unit had custom made after a deployment to Khajaki, Afghanistan. Pine something I missed all the months I spent in the asshole of the earth, Afghanistan. Sure the poppy was gorgeous when bloomed, the mountains amazing, and of course the night sky to die for... All FUCKIN ruined thanks to the smell of animal feces and goat shit covered cock! Depression is a bitch... My advice, stay simple and don’t get caught up in fucking drama, unless a mother fucker is attacking you or yours, then gut the fuck like a pig and let the drama flow baby!

You know make motherfuckers question if fucking with you is going to be a positive outcome on their end, you know what I mean? If you want to live with in the flame and help it grow you have to be the gasoline... I believe every man that walks that line with angels and demons, should know exactly where he draws it! Where the fuck am I going with this? Oh yeah, don’t ever take advice from a Dysfunctional Vet on dabs, pain pills, and booze! Ah fuck it; just pay attention to the story and you’ll get it."

------------------------

The Devil of Detroit pt. One
Time: 2300
Date: Aug. 3rd 2016
Location: Detroit, Mchigan

Somewhere on a dark street in the projects of Detroit, Michigan, tires squeal from a flat black Chevy El Camino SS as it makes a hard right onto another dark street. Smoke from the burning tires floats down the street like black fog along with the lion roar of the engine, which sounds a lot like a 454. Inside the drivers side of the pristine machine was Detroit's one and only Bearded War Pig (B.W.P), of course his trusty barb-wired aluminum baseball bat sits next to his shifter in a special slot holder. B.W.P grabs the shifter presses in the clutch and down shifts to second from third and quickly jabs the break, cranking the wheel a hard left. Sliding and handling the corner like a champ, he starts to slow the vehicle down coming up on his destination.

Two blocks from the target house, B.W.P parks the car down a old alley behind an abandoned building. With the engine silence and the car completely blacked out, the only sound heard is two men breathing. B.W.P exits the vehicle with a smile on his face. He is wearing black cargo pants with a tactical belt, with nothing but holsters of ammo for his two custom .40 caliber flat black pistols that are tucked firmly in both his shoulder holsters that rest over his olive drab "American Spartan" Gruntstyle t-shirt, but under his black hoodie. B.W.P also has his black on black custom "Dirty Deuces" hat and a pair of tan Danners for shit kickers (boots).

His passenger then exits the vehicle, this man isn't smiling and he is dressed in all black but more on the luxury side, a nice black blazer, black top, black jewelry, black aviators, black slacks, and a pair of black penny loafers. His Face painted demonic like with long at the moment tied back and black dreadlocks. The passenger quickly makes his way to the back of the vehicle; if you were familiar with cars at all you'd know the El Camino has a cab and bed. Inside this particular El Camino's bed is a black diamond plated toolbox, custom with a finger print scanning lock mechanism. The man known as the passenger lays his hand on the pad, it makes a few noises then the locks pop open. The passenger then lifts the top open and his smile forms as he looks upon a small armory sitting in the back of B.W.P's ride.

"Now I see why you have such an aggressive engine in your car, you're carrying enough arms and ammunition to take on a large city. Why exactly do these poor bastards have the pleasure of entertaining us if you will?"

"What can I say I enjoy fast and deadly things, you should know that about me Smut... Oh and these fucktards tried stiffing me on some money for that shipment of Glocks you helped me steal! So now I am going to go raid the little hood rats trap house and take mine with interest, plus whatever you want: women, money, drugs, whatever you see is yours."

"See War Pig this is why I love when I get a call from you concerning a job, you pay me up front, plus you believe in war spoils, my kind of gentleman

Smut pulls a sawed off shotgun from the tool box and a few flash bangs, Smut waves the flash bangs in front of Bearded War Pig's face with a devilish grin. B.W.P chuckles and nods in agreement. Smut tucks the flash bangs inside his blazer jacket and then closes the tool box top snapping the mechanized locks over. The two men then begin down the alley back to the street, which they came from except on foot this time. Making their way down the sidewalk using the shadows as cover, they make it to the beginning of the houses; the two men quickly take to the backyards. Both men take a knee in the shadows behind a child's play house.

"So exactly what is your game plan, hopefully it had somewhat of a thorough thought?"

“Actually that is my plan, you see I’m not the thinking kind of guy, I like o surprise myself that way!”

“That’s for damn sure!”

“Okay mother fucker, don’t be giving that attitude it will get you killed, just follow my lead and try not to get shot!”

“Hopefully you get shot...

Smut says his last words under his breath and with his face toward the ground, as he stares at the ground. B.W.P stands up from the kneeling and takes off with both of his pistols drawn. Running through the dark backyards toward the trap house or designated target building. Smut quickly scurries to his feet and begins following B.W.P from about ten feet away. Once making it to the yard of the objective, the two men begin to split up, Smut, staying in the backyard, while B.W.P makes his way to the front, very quietly and swiftly like a ninja assassin.

Making it into the front drive closest to the garage he hides down behind a black Escalade, he carefully begins to recon the situation and entrance point. He notices two barred windows on the first floor of the front side of the house, a small-unbarred window on the second story, and a barred one. Bearded War Pig chuckles to himself and shakes his head. He then looks to the porch where the front door is located. There are two males probably no older than seventeen years old, only one looks to be armed with a Glock 9mm, the second maybe a switch blade or blade of some sort. Five females no older then seventeen as well, no threat.

“Guess the front door will do, I damn sure won’t fit through the only unbarred window. Well let’s get gangster on these punk fucks.”

Bearded War Pig stands up and begins walking out from the shadows on to the lawn with a confidence as if he was untouchable, that much similar to Wolverine from the comics. One of the thugs notices B.W.P; he quickly pushes one of the girls from his lap and begins to reach for his pistol. First mistake made by the thugs. B.W.P quickly un-holsters one of his .40’s and aims flawlessly, at the perfect point of his breath cycle he gently squeezes the trigger. The round rings from the chamber and out the barrel straight toward the aim point, the thugs knee splinters all over the rest of the hood rats on the porch as he lets out a scream.

“Fuck my knee! Kill that bitch!”

Bearded War Pigs eyes instantly widen at the “bitch” remark. His barrel quickly aims at the second thug as he swiflty squeezes the trigger, bang, bang, bang. Two rounds hit the thug in the chest and as he lifts off the ground and smashes through the front door, the third splits through the center of his eyes and brains splatter the inside of the walls. Bearded War Pig quickly runs up on the faded painted wooden porch and takes a tactical position next to the door way both pistols drawn now. Signaling for the females to get down on their bellies.

“Get the fuck down, asses up lips to the floor, hands behind your fucking skulls, don’t move, don’t breathe, and keep your cock holsters closed and everyone will go home to mommy and daddy!”

Meanwhile inside the house all the men not scared shitless and is packing begin to move toward the front of the house where all the shots came from, second mistake the thugs made. While the thugs move forward, Smut does the same; he kicks in the back door and quickly moves into the kitchen, where he orders some females down on the ground. They simply obey, scared for their lives, never ever imagining a raid would occur on one of Detroit’s moist notorious and violent gangs.

Smut then quickly moves to the front of the kitchen where a doorway leads to the hallway, he steps in front of the door noticing two thugs with Glocks, Smut smiles sadistically. He raises the sawed off shotgun from his side and pulls the trigger, quickly pumping he pulls again. Boom! Boom! Two blasts of twelve-gauge triple ot buck spay down the hall peppering and ripping the two thugs into shredded cheese.

“Holy fuck that felt great, you fucks should have just paid what was agreed upon, you’d think your bosses would have known who they were trying to dick over!”

Smut quickly moves up the hallway with barrel aimed down range waiting to blast the next tally mark for his left sleeve tattoo.

While at the front of the house Bearded War Pig has made entrance to the house with the chaos of being hit from front and rear, he had enough time to enter take out two more thugs and find a secure spot to begin his proposal. B.W.P takes a tactical knee behind a couch in the living room with only a handful of thugs between him and Smut. B.W.P holsters one of his pistols and removes a clip from his tactical belt and replenishes his ammo as he hollers out to Smut.

“Hope you are having a grand time buddy boy? I know I am these motherfuckers splatter like cockroaches, a little uglier though! Bahahaha!”

Smut chuckles out loud, he is safely hidden behind a flipped over bookcase and two meat bags (two dead thugs) in the hallway.

“Oh I feel like I have died and gone to heaven! I might have to take back one of the meat bags and have him stuffed!”

Both men enjoyed the banter and putting fucked up images in their enemy’s heads before eradicating them from the earth. The five thugs look to one another confused and a little concerned with what they are dealing with. B.W.P peeks up over the top of the couch and notices the thugs are getting scared and unconfident. He drops back down to the floor, with both pistols reloaded with full ammunition.

“Hey you little dicked pussy farts, I know what you are thinking, who the fuck are these crazy ass crackers, well let me indulge you! We are fucking bringers of death, unless you twat waffles drop your arms and give me the bitch in charge!”

The thugs obviously considering the deal, until one of them makes their third mistake. One of the brave or completely dumb thugs steps forward toward the living room and Bearded War Pig. Letting shot after shot ring out ripping holes through the couch which B.W.P is taking cover, B.W.P just smiles and shakes his head. After the seventh round rips through the couch, B.W.P quickly pops up over the couch and drops the thug with one perfectly executed shot to the dome (head). Bearded War Pig feeling generous and knows sometimes everyone shouldn’t be punshished for one mans actions.

“Now this is your last chance, I won’t kill you all because one man thought he was going to be hero and get a promotion through the ranks, drop your fucking heat and come out with your hands on your head!”

The remaining four thugs oblige and step forward out from behind the wall and small breeze room to the stairs weapons dropped and hands on their heads. Smut quickly makes it to the living room as well and kicks the men behind their kneecaps dropping each one of them one by one. He then takes watch in the breezeway at the staircase not knowing who or what could be on the second story.

B.W.P paces back and forth in front of the four surrendered thugs, he notices an electronic dab rig on the coffee table, he smiles and takes a large rip, followed by a swig of Hennessey straight from the bottle. He then presses one of his pistols to the forehead of one of the thugs.
“Okay listen carefully fuckface, this is your one and only chance to have your life spared, who the fuck is in charge of this house and where the hell can I find him?”

The thug slowly opens his mouth in a stutter and barely even the tone of a whisper.

“Speak up you fucking little puke! No need to be scared it isn’t like I am at the verge of skinning you alive and letting some hounds pick at your bleeding muscle and bone!

B.W.P chuckles and then stares into the thugs eyes like a possessed demon. The thug quickly responds with a lot more bass in his voice.

“He goes by Killer J, he should be upstairs, please, we aren’t even eighteen yet mang?”

“Thanks!”

B.W.P smiles and quickly smashes his pistol into the snitch thug’s head with the hot barrel, pistol whip. B.W.P makes his way into the breezeway and changes out his pistols for Smut’s sawed off before returning to the living room, one of the three thugs who didn’t get pistol whipped notices B.W.P came back with a sawed off shotgun.

“What the hell is this? You told him we would be spared!”

“Bahahaha! Don’t ever listen to a man all fucked up on pain pills, booze, and dabs!”

Without out any mercy Bearded War Pig begins letting pellets scatter tearing up the whole living room and killing anything or anyone in the path. After unloading five shells into the bodies of the thugs B.W.P licks his chops and enters the breezeway with Smut again...

To Be Continued.

Promo for the Homo
Time: 1415
Date: Aug. 23rd 2016
Location: Las Vegas, Nevada

An XWF camera pans an empty convention center in the Trump International Tower where Savage Saturday Night will be held, the very first matches of many newcomers. Including Bearded War Pigs’. Tables Elimination Match against Seth Connor... The camera then stops at a door way of the convention center, the double wooden doors fly open and in walks the bearded mad man Bearded War Pig (B.W.P). He is wearing a black “Dirty Deuces” fitted baseball cap with white lettering and the shocker symbol backwards, a black Lamb of God t-shirt, a pair of woodland camouflage cargo shorts, and a pair of all black shell toed Adidas tennis shoes. He quickly walks to the center of the room and begins to spin in circle with his arms stretched straight out from his body, fists quenched.

“Somebody fucking wake me!”

B.W.P unclenches his fists and stops spinning, he looks directly in the camera and smiles.

“Sorry about that. It is just; I never thought my sorry ass would have an opportunity like this, to be on top of the world. When my agent told me the XWF signed my contract and brought me on board, I was in awe. No words could describe the feeling; it was better than wet throat pounding sloppy head! No I wouldn’t say that good, but I felt fucking great, like my life had meaning again since the war...

After I got out of the Marine Corps, their wasn’t much feeling or emotions left in my soul, finding out I was going to wrestle for a thriving company in the XWF, I almost shit myself. My fire had been sparked again in my soul, I have yet to figure out if it is a good or bad thing, we will just have to wait and see! Then I was told to get to Las, Vegas because Saturday I would have my first match. Tables Elimination Match against some wrestler named Seth Connor at the Trump Tower.

After being told that I was like hell yeah my first match and against Seth Connor! Then I was like wait a minute, who the fuck is Seth Connor?! Never heard of her and why the hell am I up against a girl, does this company not know I am one of the greatest warriors on this earth? My agent laughed and then began to explain he isn’t a girl and he was once a wrestling prodigy and I shouldn’t take my first match lightly even if it is against a no name. He said something along the lines of we both have to make a strong stern statement.

Honestly I just laughed at the sorry shit head, I don’t need to make any kind of statement my actions do them for me!”

Bearded War Pig strokes his beard in a fulfilling manner as he begins to walk away from the center of the room and to the outskirts of the room. He looks away from the camera watching his every move and stares at the center of the room.

“Ha, now that is a view to witness. I just wanted to see what it would be like to be a fan with nosebleed seats watching the show come Saturday. Right here where I stand will be filled with a lucky soul to witness myself destroy Seth Connor, using tables and any other weapons to cause destruction. I will show no mercy I can promise that. I will make this match so electrifying fans too close may not walk away from the event.”

Bearded War Pig turns his attention back to the camera.

“So Seth Connor if you are watching this, I hope you know all the wrestling background you have isn’t going to mean shit inside the ring with me this Saturday, it is going to be total havoc and carnage! This isn’t some high school or college-wrestling match this is a hardcore style match, something I love to do, break rules and break bones. God for bid the second have to happen so soon for you, but I will not hold back. If I put you in a submission and you feel the need to not tap, I will snap!

It would be a fucking shame if your bitch ass were put out on medical rehabilitation so soon in XWF. So please do yourself a favor and head into the match knowing you will loose and do not attempt anything too brave or bold. It could result in you getting fucked up! I'm not talking schoolyard baby back fucked up, I am talking terrorist left alone with grunts fucked up son. I don’t know if you know what that means, but basically I will leave you breaths away from death.

We don’t do the judging we just arrange the meetings, so once again please Sethy Boy don’t put me in that predicament. I don’t like being the bad guy, but I damn sure know how to play the role. So lets keep all of our social media, interviews, or press conferences somewhat civil. I don’t want to have to let the monster out of his hole, it isn’t a pretty sight...”

Bearded War Pig stares into the camera very sternly with a thousand yard stare for about seven seconds before the scene fades black...