::I found it a wonderful coincidence at the time (now not so much, knowing life has a mind of its own) that the subject of shit popped up during my first REAL hang-out with my future murderer in Henry Spade. Daniel, my future backstabber, had been there as well.

I'd been back home in Long Beach, still spracked from goodbye lines shared with my cousin Jeff back in Cypress, for a scant hour before the hankering for anything at all mind-altering had started baying in my brain. I'd had no idea where to get meth in the area, however, so I'd assumed I'd be fucked and crashing soon.

I'd learned the THC and CBN combo (CBN being the true culprit behind "couch-lock") in weed helped a lot during a crash, allowing you to eat then sleep peacefully, and I knew at the very least I needed that to counteract what was to come.

I'd occasionally bought chronic-priced midgrade from "Buddha" Spade when all other local sources were dry and my failures within the following hour to procure had led me to him again. "Fuck you" prices aside, he did offer one thing that the other slangers didn't: he'd smoke you out after purchase with his OWN stash in a heavy, thick glass green bong. Why _not_ get faded and still have a sammich bag bottom full of bud when I'm done?

So, intent on spending a short while smoking (and having back in '99 affectionately established a habit of playing Pokémon Blue high) I'd detoured back to the house to grab my original release Gameboy and made my way to Henry's.

Upon arrival and my switching on of my classic handheld, Henry asked what I was playing. I told him. He'd never heard of Pokémon. I explained, dropped a few names. He found Pokémon to be as gay as Daniel then said, and I'll never forget:

"Do you like sprackamon?" He laughs.

On shit or in the shit system, when _anyone_ ever utters a word in context...you take instant heed. Fuck yeah, I said, let's do some lines!

"Fuck lines," said Henry.

Out came a small, thin glassed, faintly phallic pipe, what local liquor stores sold over the counter as "oil burners". Fuck is that, I asked?

"Pookie, you piece o' shit."

From that point on within my binge, after experiencing the multiplied meth high via vaporization, I was smoking the pookie.

As I sit here in deep remembrance, I can literally feel the incredibly similar to adrenaline rush aspect of smoking shit; the hard beating heart, the widened eyes, the erratic breathing...and a tsunami of memories play out before my eyes...









Shoving a delicious green-apple tasting powdery rock through the miniscule top-centered pookie hole.

Lighting the bowl from beneath with a few inches separating flame lick from glass, slightly rolling the pipe stem between my fingertips so as not to overheat, burn and corrupt the melting meth. Inhaling.

Exhaling a huge, thick white cloud so very different from weed smoke.

Extinguishing the heat by placing the pookie on my blue bandana and watching the liquid meth crystallize into an off-white solid.

Playing Final Fantasy VII on Playstation for 40 hours straight, aiming to accomplish every single possible goal, victory and Easter egg, including slaying the Weapons.

Carefully using a folded piece of paper to slide small fragments of not delicious chemical tasting crystal into the pookie hole.

More hits. More exhales.

Playing Driver on Playstation, being wildly hazardous in-game and learning I probably shouldn't drive in real life while spracked.

More hits. More exhales.

Getting spun with Henry, the only times he'd approach anything close to being a "nice" guy.

More hits. More exhales.

Getting half-Mexican half-Persian tweaker beauty Jessica Khayat twacked out and fuckin' dirty Farsi words out of her.

Hits.

Getting Daniel's younger, light-skinned Nubian narco-nympho sister Erica spun, giving her head (surprised wink to the omniscient Buronan) in the garage and fuckin' her in her family's roach-filled front room.

Exhales.

Smoking with Daniel and his gay best friend, David I believe, who becomes the second male to ask if I'd let him suck my dick and my, while on meth, considering it.

Hits.

Passing the pookie around the car on the 710 going 90 with David behind the wheel. Explosively vomiting onto the front windshield from the back seat, saturating David and Daniel, out of fear and too much cut.

Exhales.

On my hands and knees searching the carpet for any droppage.

Hits.

Having a black tweaker named Chris pull a 10 inch, thin bladed makeshift shank from his car's gear shift like a cane sword and holding it tip to shirt at my heart.

Exhales.

Watching my Aunt Gaylene break down and cry at my 22nd birthday 'cause I'm fifty pounds lighter.

Hits.

My mom walking in _as I'm inhaling_, dropping the pookie onto the floor, rushing over to her to block her view, handing her some undoubtedly bullshit excuse and hearing her say, heartbroken with tears in her eyes, "Oh Jimmy..."

Exhales.

Angrily not spun, having no luck acquiring, mouthing off and spitting at LBPD Officers Ferguson and Guia then receiving a brutally _rough_ "searching" beside a packed Artesia Blvd in broad daylight.

Hits.

Henry wrapping his arms around my waist and tossing me over his back.

Exhales.

Reanimating.

Hits.

Walking home unaware.

Exhales.

My misshapen hambuger face in reflection.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~




"Addiction: Narco-Neanderthal 2"
(continued from co-op w/Buronan)






After, out of houseguest guilt, helping him clean up the mess I'd made with-

...uh...what had Buronan called him?

'Milo Yurnsuckalotadickalos or Milo Yursabigdickinsiloveinmyass? Whoever it was it most definitely wasn't the Milo Yiannopolous that nutless nincompoop NOC has been insinuating "on camera" you both murdered. How did that transparent twat witness that anyway, it was completely _off camera_. He's monitoring you in some way, that explains how that guy found you for the bribe. Consider consulting with Blackcoat's attorneys on the subjects of slander and stalking. Plan B, you'll have to murder NOC and leave his easy to hide invisible corpse with his crystal clear cock in his mouth.'

After spending the night platonically on invitation, Buronan and I had parted ways, for now, so I could continue my hunting of the Cady-Clique as they headed for Disneyland in Southern California.

Taking into account my time spent at B's crib, having refueled only once to Zirado's undoubtedly 10 times elsewhere in the First Baptist Bomber, or: BOMBER1 as I recall the license plate read, and refusing to make any pit stops myself again to Darren's assuredly absurdly many, _many_, _MANY_ detours......many......I found myself still thinking I'd probably passed the trio up by 170 miles, give or take a state.

Reaching Southern CA, I'd detoured and pulled off the 5 into San Diego, memories of facing Nico LaVey momentarily resurfacing, deciding to pay a little visit to a certain comic book store and it's owner.

In 2015, after freshly made homeless, my family's first attempt to salvage our losses was to sell off my bundle of CGC mostly Silver Age Marvel comics I'd, in similar vein with my performance in the Federweight Scramble, practically stolen on eBay back in 2011 by deadline bombing auctions in the last fifteen seconds via setting my single auto-bid limits hundreds of dollars above the current bids. I'd suffered only one fucking by having to pay $180, thanks to some ignorant asshole bidder, for a Bronze Age $18 Beta Ray Bill first appearance. On everything else I'd saved thousands on current graded value.

The owner, Jim, of Southern California Comics, had offered me only $1700 on a $6800+ valued stack including my prized CGC 9.4 Iron Man #55 first appearance of Thanos valued at $1200 by itself. I'd paid $480 in auction. But, with my wife and daughter hungry, thirsty and in need of shelter, I'd bent _myself_ over the glass counter for Jim, Howard the Duck fan, and taken it up the ass. I'm owed restitution.

I'd found my way to the shop's location at 8280 Clairemont Mesa, suite #124 and pulled the rental Chevy Cruze into the parking area. I'd had a few hours to kill until closing time and Jim sauntering his pirate ass on out so while waiting, I'd let my mind wander and lead to the memories of my two years tweakin'.

In an effort to change the mental subject I'd then viewed the response promo titled "Respect" uploaded by my opponent Cadryn Tiberius...and by video's end, I felt the faintest of smiles tugging at the corners of my lips.

'You've got him kid...now drop the fucking bomb.'

......................................

"So...you claim you disrespected me in ignoring my welcoming of you because, quote, 'you had a lot on your plate'? What was that, Cadryn, two steaming, healthy, heapin' helpings of horseshit? You're servin' the same in your arguments. 'For the record', I believe Heyman said it best when he stated you had no place on the rankings because guys like myself and Nixon were active and providing entertainment for the fans while you...well, were NOT. I believe that's _also_ why he told you to 'take your one and done title shot' and fuck off. So no, Cadryn, you have no excuse for ignoring my kindness. Your inadmission of your EXPLANATION is being a lazy fuck, check collectin' cocksucker and that's about the long and short it. And by the way, who gives a fuck what attention you got when you started acting right and concocted a little fun for the boys in the back? What matters is the man who greeted you BEFORE you'd done ANYTHING at all. Me, the XWF Television Champ, a man with no obligations whatsoever to speak to a skinny dickhead, diddly-bop dago like yourself, you fuckin' NOTHING. I didn't need to be coerced into kindness, it came naturally. I guess that makes you look like an asshole right about now... Well buckle in bitch, it only gets worse.

I commend you, in the slightest of ways, for finally admitting once and for all that you did NOT defeat me after what? A month or more has gone by? That shows how long it takes your lyin' ass to come clean on subjects of which everyone else is already privy, prick. You don't need to point out that I didn't defeat you either, I've NEVER made such a claim because, unlike you, I don't need to overcompensate for failure. I stated, following the conclusion of the card, that our match had been 'too close for my comfort'. That doesn't sound like a man brow-beating, that sounds like a man unafraid to admit the truth at all times. Again, you're an asshole, just like your stepin fetchit friend Micheal Slave, uuuh yes suh, yes suh massa Cady.

You have a problem with me believing I could've kicked out before the three count had the clock not run out? You try to namedrop and quote Nixon in your favor after his stating when he saw the Italian Driver he thought for sure the match was over? The same Nixon that thought, and who would fault him, for sure he was gonna defeat me in our second outing...like you do now? DO WE NOTICE A PARALLEL? Are we finished with the fuckaround? Your futile attempts to sting and burn my ass have stung YOU more than snortin' lemon juice and wasabi, limp dick wimp. Tried to make a fool of me, made yourself look foolish. Almost as foolish as you've made yourself appear by rescinding your one moment of honesty about not beating me and twisting it, like a horny Micheal Slave on your nipples, to say, once again, you WOULD'VE beaten me had you not been a second late and a brain cell short. You didn't have what it would've taken to defeat me, Cadryn and as I've admitted myself over and over, at the time, neither did I. Currently, you probably still lack the skill to beat me because I've only been getting better and better. To be fair so have you. But you signed up HOW long before me and yet I have, what, three more in ring matches than you? I have the head start.

Now tell me, Cadryn, how my _reacting_ to your butthurt bitchfit labels ME a bully? As I understand it, a true bully doesn't bully in reaction, a bully just bullies out of his or her nature WITHOUT provocation. The bully is still the 'likeable funny man' I address who, like a shitheel, has been whining endlessly threatening ME for weeks on end while I did my best to ignore him and failed. Even if you were correct...Cadryn, I'm actually the villain here, EXPECTED to be a bastard and for the most part I act like it despite your trio trying so desperately to monopolize all alignments like the greedy fucks you are. Like bi-sexuals and bodily orifices, pick a hole and stick with it before I chop you up and bury you in all three. You want a bully? You ALL got one when I STOLE the Federweight Title. And...lo and behold, even being allowed further time to respond to my bullying tactics you, Slave and Zirado STILL failed to thwart me. You're as good at getting shit done as I am at 'failing'. Point in fact, you just aren't good enough for any of it. Period.

The only 'of course' about your creating a cardboard strap pertains to you _of course_ being a 'comedic' hack. _Of course_ stooping to unbelievably less than original tactics. _Of course_ needing to desperately save face in any way by dropping your pants and yelling, 'Look at my dick!' You're no different than anyone else in this business who's done the same and like they, your _story_ will end the same: creeping back into the shadows of obscurity when the laughter ends at your figurative funeral. Were your actions one for the history books? Indeed, the same history book containing Gabe Reno's creation of the XWF Champion strap, only, at the max, your actions were first included under the 'Old Fallbacks' section while his _full chapter_ entitled 'Unique' blasted your mention into the 'What Not to Do' section. Your fans found your antics amusing because your fans are the type who laugh their asses off farting in the fuckin' bathtub and takin' pics of their foot long turds in the toilet. You can have 'em. I don't want 'em, I don't need 'em.

STILL think you made me fall into a trap eh? Like a snotnosed punk who says the wrong thing to the wrong man and unfortunately receives his own ass in return, you no more trapped me than anyone would say a kid gettin' gobbled up by a motherfuckin' tiger for pullin' it's tail 'trapped' the beast into killing him. The fact that our match ended in a draw is the reason I ALREADY wanted a future rematch and again, I'll quote my own words following the card: '...unfortunately you've also pissed me off.' That sound like I needed any encouragement or, 'trapping', to want a rematch? Did you PLAN to time draw? Dumbfuck. You thought you'd been two steps ahead this whole time when I've already LAPPED your ass and am now pulling up behind you to do it again. I don't blame you and Slave for believing the opposite. How many dipshits believed the planet was flat before being proven they'd been ignorant as all hell? You're flat-earth fuckups, nothing more, and I'll gladly dick slap the unjustified arrogance outta your mouth on Saturday, Cady-cat...just like The Bourbon Men did in round one...just like _I_ did in the Federweight Scramble. You aren't 3-1-1, you've got TWO losses in context with Caedus. Like it or not, we were competing for the Federweight title, I won, you lost. Hate to break it to you, youngster, but you're hopefully gonna get more of the same in our rematch only THIS time, it'll be singles definitive."

'Hit that hack with a haymaker now.'

"You say Micheal Slave chose friendship with _you_ over the status bump he'd receive in aligning with me? You stab at me by asking if I don't think you two talk? Far be it from me to join in, since you're gonna dredge up unprofessional airing of dirty laundry I already apologized for. Slave sure did tell you a lot...but not everything. I guess he forgot to mention my invitation extended towards YOU Cadryn, IF you could manage to darken up a bit and fit in. Now...why didn't he tell you that? I'll tell you why: you'd already done enough to give him reason to want to join me in the first place, the LAST thing he wanted was for YOU to know _I_ wanted YOU, then to have YOU jump onto MY bandwagon and leave HIM in the dust like you'd BEEN doing to the poor guy for weeks leading up to his deciding to BETRAY me. That's why I call him Slave. He doesn't have the balls to fight for his freedom, he mistakenly fears YOU when the both of you should be fearing ME. Who's the asshole? Again, it'd be you Cadryn. Still think there are no secrets between you two? Now keep your bitter returns trap shut before I uppercut your chin so fucking hard I smash it closed using your teeth as staples, 'smart guy'. I may be less intelligent than many in the XWF but you and Slave don't fuckin' qualify."

'Nicely done.'

"How can I say you set a disgusting example for your fans? I've already explained that in detail in THIS promo alone. Your defense on the subject is TRULY the showing of who doesn't know what they're talking about. I'm a villain, Cadryn. I set an excellent example for villain fans by loosing insults on sexual orientation and race. You fail to set an example as a 'non-villain' and instead set an example of how not to be the bigger man, how NOT to be an example, by lowering yourself to bullying tactics and not accepting our draw with grace and class. You 'dare' use Thomas Nixon as an example for ANY of your arguments? Thomas Nixon is a true hero with the class and respect NOT to say anything less than the same amount of class and respect I've offered and reciprocated. THAT is a hero, Cadryn, not a bully in the guise of a likeable guy looking for a laugh like some lil' whiny kid cuttin' on the other kid who walked away with the trophy in the TV Title. If YOU really think what you've been doing classifies as hero, comedic or NOT, you clearly ignore the acceptably good guy attributes and definitions in our current lovey-dovey society in which it is NOT ok to be hateful and a bully. You lose again, Cadryn.

Regardless of your never ending stance of saying 'nu-uh' to every one of my all-too-apt 'uh-huhs', you _are_ weak willed. Too weak willed to accept a non-victory. Too weak willed to come up with something more original than a cardboard strap. Too weak willed to admit that maybe, just MAYBE, the fact that you STILL couldn't attain the three count after FIFTEEN MINUTES when I was _off my game_ means that 'maybe', just 'MAYBE'...I'm going to show you what the fuck I'm fully capable of in our First Blood match and leave you with a THIRD loss and empty hands.

'The world will move on with or without Jim Caedus'? How insightful. The world is cruel, Cadryn, it moves on in the wake of good people dying. It moved on in the aftermath of September 11. It moved on while my family and I were stuck in static on the streets like those we begged for spare change moved on. Yes, the world is a cruel place and it moves on...just like I'm a cruel motherfucker and will move on as the XWF Television Champion. Just like wrestling will move on whenever your unoriginal ass bows out of the business and everyone forgets your name. I've moved on from promotion to promotion, Cady, and STILL my fans remembered ME. YOU ain't shit, no one will care when you shuffle off stage right, I don't give a shit how many friends you have at the moment. You'll be forgotten, and rightfully so, like the bully loser the alumni committee 'forgot' to send an invitation to for the reunion. Sure, there may be a small handful of those wishing you'd have shown up but ultimately, everyone else will be glad to be rid of you. And if the same is felt towards me, as pertains to our peers, well, it would hurt but big fuckin' deal in my opinion, just more of the same I've dealt with since senior year. Been there, done that, dealt with it.

No, you aren't worthy of any title here and the fact you caught Reno jackin' off and pinned him doesn't change that. I was JUDGED the winner in the Federweight Scramble, smartass, you were JUDGED a loser, so kiss my sour ass cheeks, chump. Oh, and the fact that you got your due karma in losing the Heavy Metal Weight strap proves that even WITHOUT a judgment you aren't worthy of a title. You're worthy of nothing more than an asswhooping, son. I'll be blessing you with that beat down soon enough, believe it.

'Scared of you' am I? If that were the case I wouldn't have agreed to this match KNOWING you have something up your sleeve. You don't scare me. NO ONE scares me, motherfucker, I survived MURDER. You may be quite capable of murdering male ass butgot doesn't seem you're capable of defeating me fair and square.You had your chance, you blew it. End of story. 'I've never faced someone like (you) before'? Cadryn, let's pretend, as you enjoy doing so much, that I haven't already faced you. The last time I faced a boy who couldn't get off my dick was back in Long Beach when I beat the piss outta one for tryin' to pay me for the honor of sucking me off. Which reminds me, you haven't relinquished your grip on my cock since our last match...you owe me money, bitch, now cough it up and I MIGHT let you leave Savage with your LIFE SIGNS intact."

'That's a BIG owie.'

"YOU brought nothing but shame upon this title, it's true. _I_ brought FURTHER publicity and attention to it by defeating one of the greatest talents in our promotion who ALREADY brought publicity and attention to it HIMSELF, namely Nixon. Nix. Me. Not YOU. Not US. The only US that COULD'VE made an impact in the XWF would've been the US including Micheal Slave in a stable. But oh, no...it's too late for that now isn't it? The two of you chose to trust in eachother instead of a man who has done nothing but the IMPOSSIBLE in his life: surviving murder, defeating methamphetamine addiction cold turkey, attaining the TV Title against a superior foe, being BLESSED with the FEDERWEIGHT TITLE to become something as awesome and honorable and PROUD as the double-champion representing my HOME, The XWF. You ain't done a damn thing but show how IMPOSSIBLE it is for YOU to see the truth no matter how many avenues you CONTINUE to be presented with. 'Shut up. Idiot.' Your credibility is SHIT Cadryn.

Yes, I'm thrilled to be in a First Blood match with you, for the SAME reason YOU are:.......No DQ. Of COURSE you don't 'need to cheat', there are no rules! Just like I won't be 'cheating', even though it would align with my heelness, when I use every dirty trick in the book to fuck you up. Didn't I tell you several times already you aren't smarter than I am, asshole? You aren't clever, you aren't getting over on me, fuckstick, you aren't doing anything but walking into a match with a stronger man who also happens to be a fucking psycopath. Quoth the Methods of Mayhem: 'Why get involved with a rock star with a troubled history?' Because you're Cadryn Tiberius, a moron who thinks he can rush me on stage and not get his skull cracked by my swung mic stand. You think you've got it all figured out? 'For the record', _if_ you beat me _fair_, meaning ONE ON ONE, I'll be the first to acknowledge it. That's the difference between us when a name like the great Robbie Bourbon, XWF Hart Champion, isn't attached to my name in the match. Sure as fuck didn't see you congratulating me after the Scramble. That's because when it's a win on my own steam against you, you have NOTHING to say. I dont expect anyone to say _anything_ to me anyway, I _hope_ they do. I hope they do because I've eaten a lotta shit in life, more than my fair share at just age 37. I hope they do because even us bastards get lonely and insecure. I hope they do because _I_ do it, without being asked, out of sincerity, support and friendship. Like the hero I'll never be. I'm all about honesty and reality, EVEN AS A VILLAIN...while you're all about deception and fantasy.

Shall we talk about respect, Cadryn? By all means, let's. Nice job vindicating me in my description of you being a lousy babyface, this time stating you're lowering yourself to discuss respect, by the way. Idiot. Vincent Lane publicly was the first to support me but..'who was it who came to me backstage when I got here, offering support'?

Not you. It was _I_ who made my presence and respect known backstage by approaching both Nixon and Broken Hart with MY respect. You weren't even active at the time numbnuts, so what the fuck are YOU referencing? Furthermore, it's been _me_ continuing to go out of my way, since day ONE, to keep doing so for others. In fact, it was ME who first approached YOU backstage AND in public when I greeted you on returning and was the first to contact YOU behind closed doors. Dude...can anything other than a few statements leaving those lips of yours NOT be a fuckin' lie??

'Who came to me week after week regardless of wins or losses to discuss my life' and whatever the fuck else you claim?

Thomas. Reeve. Later, Robert Main. That's who. Go ahead and ask them. Those three have been my closest friends the entire time, recognizing in me what you and Slave HAVEN'T because THEY never tried to make a fool out of me. THEY knock first, often. THEY actually support me when I need it and offer advice or encouragement. THEY backstage, and many OTHERS publicly, were the ones telling me not to hang it all up and retire...and if something like, say, SX were to attempt to devour them en masse, even if it meant my demise, I'd be the FIRST to stand in their defense, FIRST to fight back and say FUCK GALACTIC HUNGER! I'M JIM CAEDUS! YOU...you weren't much better than Bobby Blackcoat attacking my carcass. You couldn't manage to be supportive WITHOUT bringing a rematch and the TV Title into it. And later, JUST like Bobby, even though HE congratulated me, you told me I may as well quit, and you did it in the Federweight Scramble. Them's your true colors, Cadryn. You never liked me, you've always HATED me, you're only out to get my title and laugh in my face. OWN IT and stop being a lying lil' bitch. The only time you took the lead in contacting me was after I contacted YOU. You've rarely come to my lockeroom. I've come to yours on many occasions. You've kept up communication even CURRENTLY...but I believe you only see me as easy pickins to BETRAY again and later screw outta his title. Did I have a problem with you until betrayal? No, I liked you as much as I like my REAL support behind the scenes. I RESPECTED you to your face AND back. _Now_...I might snap your neck. You fucked it all up.

Blah blah blah yourself with all that citing of shit you did in your TRUE pursuit of keeping your enemy closer, I see right through it, dude. After our match, maybe we can try being friends again, since I'm an imbecile who deep down always wanted to be a hero but could NEVER see myself pure enough to be one after all I've been through and done in my shitstorm of a life. I always end up putting misplaced faith in the wrong people, I'll undoubtedly do it again because I'm a villain yet still a better hero than you, via my own psycho nature.

'You all love me' when all's said and done. I love you all too, SINCERELY, TRUTHFULLY...and have been OUTSPOKEN on the matter since my first week. You're all my family, even if I'm just the creepy uncle's friend who recently got outta prison and whom no one can keep eye contact with for too long because my thousand yard stare makes people uneasy. But I'm still family. Who got mean brother _Gabe Reno_...GABE RENO...to pull out the guitar for a round of kumbaya? Me and my psychotic love. No one loves with more fervor than a psychopath, Cadryn, and while I do thank you for closing with such kind words showing a HEART I didn't think you had...you never should've broken my, as contradictory as it sounds, ALREADY broken heart with Mikey by your side. You know why? Because no one HATES more than a psychopath either. I'm an evil, sick bastard, Cadryn...NEVER break the heart of an evil, sick bastard, EVER. Especially FAMILY which hurts the MOST. Never think you can do it and get away scot-free. You WILL pay for what you put me through and because I'm a prick, it won't be done with the grace and underlying need to save my misguided opposition like a hero should do; I'll be collecting your balls as a keepsake and trophy as a BASTARD WOULD DO.

You just don't get it...I'm a conundrum, an unanswerable riddle. I'm far beyond the term 'anachronism' because there IS no time and place I'd fit better into. There is NO ONE quite like me, Cadryn, I'll ALWAYS stick out like a sore thumb.

I'm also, among a multitude of definitions, an addict. Like walking around in public with your eyes on the ground searching for a lucky-find lost baggy. Running around in a wife beater and shorts in winter weather 'cause it's SO fucking hot. I'm an addict...but no longer addicted to drugs...addicted to my TV Title. Addicted to VICTORY when I've lost so much and so often in life. YOU can't break my addiction, you can't cure me. DDP Yoga couldn't chip away at my addiction if Hall himself were to tell me, 'See, the bad guy did it, now it's your turn, bad guy.' I'm something too powerful for you to overcome, Cadryn. Someone too balls out nuts to reason with. I'm Jim Caedus.

I can see that you refuse to take the timely third swing after my first swing in our opening promos. I can see I still own you and without my giving you the nod through promo, you refuse to try and play fair. I can see that you're instead trying to play the wait out last word game and you have been since I first uploaded my promo. I'm smart enough to realize we BOTH know that in the XWF I'm busier than you and I have to use strategy. I theorize you may have TWO promos, one of which could be a promo AT Disneyland full of fun and punchlines delivered possibly on rides. My buddy Wiley did an amazing version of that himself in the UWF 5 years ago and I know it would probably kill here too comedically, coming from you and possibly Graves as well. I know you're ready to deadline bomb me like I did to you but I also know it's about quality and not quantity and no matter what shenanigans you stir up, they'll shrivel in comparison to my hot dose of reality stuck straight into your dick vein. Downside to _not_ holding off a firing a single shot while camping is giving me material to bounce off in the process. Not that I needed any more than you've ALREADY given me. You'll just be saying the same old shit trying your best to argue against my _facts_, while I'm creating new lines of damnation. Unless you try to disprove that by uploading a truly last minute creative promo. Either way, I will deadline POWERBOMB _you_, with this. I'm a villain and I'll do my best to live up to that definition by showing once again how much of a FAILURE you are at being a goody good when you AGAIN stoop to 'lower' yourself to baddie levels. I'm a villain who at THIS point definitely deserves a nomination for Dirtiest Player in the Game and is earning it. And...I, the villain, don't care if you AREN'T as crafty as I think you are and you do anything other than I've predicted. It won't bother me in the slightest to truly ream you out anyway. YOU earned it. ...Cadryn don't you DARE not be planning something, don't let me see some publicity stunt in martyrdom. Don't you DARE let me bomb your ass and have no plan. Don't make this a possible slaughter. Don't make me feel bad, goddammit, you started this, you kept it going, and with Graves, whom I thought was going to be another brother, you made it personal. I started our WoW game, that's War of Words, early, honorably, I've been cutting promos for Round 2 as well, this is my 4th upload for the week...but _you_...you took your time responding. You've been fighty dirty since 'tricking' me into a rematch I already wanted. I'm the fucking villain here, Cadryn, no matter how hard YOU try to be while denying it. _I'm_ the piece of shit and I'll educate you on that fact Fucking. Savagely.

...I'm going to bleed you out on Saturday Cadryn, you catchphrase snatchin' sack o' shit. You, _admittedly_ in promo didn't know in Round One and you don't know NOW what the hell that means, clearly, as it really only applies to the Caedus inclusive Bourbon Men and our DROWNING the competition. I've been twisting on it lately but as far as the original... Caedus? Reality? ...Bourbon? Alcohol? Rocks? ICE? Bourbon on ice? Adult beverage(s) you've been acting like you know nothing of NOW because Graves probably told you? Bourbon on the ROCKS? _Reality on the ROCKS_. Fuuuuck _me_, at least people like Doc got it when it happened in the moment and why wouldn't he? He's probably one of the smartest men here or...anywhere really. But for you and your insolent ignorance, here's an updated counter for YOU: THIS has been your broken body, your FATALITY on the rocks of REALITY. Mother. Fucker."
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'There he is...there's the owner of Southern California Comics. Care to educate another human life on what it means to take advantage of the less fortunate?'

Oh, indeed I do. I'm getting this handled then heading for Carson. Fuck the Cady-Clique purposely taking as long as they can with me tailing them, which they must've noticed dammit, (as if I can't see what they're up to) to get their happy asses to Disneyland. This is me changing strategies in the face of changing strategies. I'll spoil their little Mad Hatter's tea party and shove the cups still spinnin' right up their White Rabbit holes. How'd that be for a California Adventure boys? Fuck Disneyland. This, me being me, is MY happiest place on earth.

END