OOC: Hello all, I just wanted to say that this is my first time roleplaying in a long time and my first time writing in almost as long. Please, bear with me here.

The wind howled like a lone wolf, crying out for the brethren he had lost. Palm trees blew against the windows of a tall brick mansion that would make the Corleone compound look like a shack. The house was dark, nothing stirring except for one window toward the back with still glowed with life. Inside the window, behind a desk, I sat. My feet propped upon the desktop, a glass of whiskey on the rocks in one hand and a lit cigar in the other. A lot had changed over the years, I had changed. No longer was I a man with a hard-outer shell that protected a big heart, no. Now all that laid beneath the hard-outer shell was a bottomless pit of darkness. No longer did I dress in what some would call “monkey suits”, no that Bigg Rigg went out of style with JNCO Jeans and Pogs. Instead, I wore what I wore every day; a pair of faded blue jeans, a black t-shirt and my beloved black leather biker jacket. No longer was my hair short and my face clean shaven like a corporate monkey. Instead, my hair hung to my shoulders, a glorious black flowing mane and my face was covered in a tight, well-groomed beard. The mob, that secret word that I was forbidden to mention for so long was beneath me now. All my enemies as well as all my associates who stood in the way of what I desired, all suddenly disappeared without a trace and without warning. I wasn’t a boss anymore; I was THE boss. The only associates who stood by me from my old life were Tony Fragale, Jullian Giovanni, my brothers Dom and Al, my brother-in-law Vinnie, my wife Laura and the man that I considered closer than a brother, my consigliere Danny Gonzalez. I know, that seems like a shit ton of people. But really, seeing as I had an army of over a hundred associates, it really was quite a small number.

Danny sat beside my desk, clad in his usual long jean shorts which hung just above the ankle; which for the life of my I could not comprehend why one would want to wear shorts which only exposed an inch of leg. With the shorts, he wore his brown tims and white wife beater tank top. He sipped on a “Four Loco” malt beverage, his favorite drink and, kind of his crutch. I set my glass of whiskey down onto my expensive solid gold desk, well onto a coaster that sat upon the desk. Shit, that desk is worth more than the lives of everyone on the XWF roster; I wouldn’t set the drink directly on it.

“I don’t know, Danny.” I said, looking over at him and shrugging. “I think it’s a good idea. Hell, a great idea. I think it’s as long overdue as Nick Ryan’s Penile Prosthesis. But brotha, what do you think?”

“John.” Danny began, as he then took a giant swig of his drink before continuing. “I think it is an excellent idea my brotha. That place has gone through the dark ages. You are exactly what the place needs to come out the other side.”

“Well ain’t that the fuckin’ truth. First, the entire company was plagued with a lying, cheating, shit for brains wind-bag.” I said, my face reddening with anger as I spoke. “His name’s Jon Brown, Brown baby, that’s his name baby, Jon Brown, Brown, Brown. You know, sometimes God really doesn’t have a sense of humor. How ironic and fitting is it that a man who is so full of shit that after he eats Taco Bell he has to put on a pair of earmuffs just to keep from leaking all over his shirt, is named Brown?”

“HAHAHAHAHA!” Danny spat out his four loco all over my floor, as he doubled over in laughter. “That’s freakin’ hilarious!”

I looked down at the puddle of cheap alcohol on my marble floor, shaking my head. Well, I guess that’s why I hired the best cleaning staff in Los Angeles.

“It’s true too. The XWF has survived all these years DESPITE the Jon Brown era, not because of it. Constantly pushing and cheating for no talent hacks like that illiterate, drooling window-licker Cooper, and that overrated twat-bag Kitten and worst of all, that hot mess Cyren. WAHHH, I had a bad childhood, now pay attention to ME! Who gives a fuck!? We know, we know…..Kitten and Cyren were both drug addicts and we were supposed to be in awe of their heroic story of getting themselves clean and achieving. Personally, if I thought it would’ve saved me and the fans of the XWF from having to hear those two whining shit-birds, I would’ve spent my life savings on enough junk for them to snort and plow into their veins that we’d never have to hear them speak again. Laying in a gutter in a pool of their own saliva and blood, their bodies surrounded by needles, bent spoons and empty baggies. That’s a magical daydream, isn’t it?”

“You know brotha….” Danny chuckled. “If anyone heard you say that shit, it would be a PR nightmare.”

“Oh really?” I chuckled. “Do you think I’d strike a vein….I mean nerve? Yeah, I don’t give a fuck. It’s going to be different now, far different. Done are the days where I walk around and give the fans something to cheer. Jumping around like a dancing bear balancing a ball on my nose just to entertain those fucktards. Danny, this isn’t our world anymore. We live in a world filled with whiny bitches, offended by every little fucking thing. If someone disagrees with them, well then, the they whine and cry like two-year-old babies until someone takes away what offends them. Oh, Roseanne makes a joke on twitter about a bitch who, let’s fucking face it, LOOKS LIKE AN APE and SHE LOSES HER FUCKING SHOW!? Yet, Chris Rock can say some shit about wanting to see more white mothers crying because their children were killed in mass shootings and that’s okay? Sounds fucking legit. While all these crybabies shout Racism and Sexism over every little fucking thing, they are the same people who criticize Christians and think nothing of it. These are the tide pod eating, knuckle dragging, window licking, dumbasses who ruin this country daily and who, let’s face it, fill the stands at every fucking XWF show. No, I don’t give a fuck what any of them think, if they even CAN THINK.”
“You kill me brotha!” Danny says, laughing as he pats me on the shoulder.

“Why, thank you brotha.” I said, patting his shoulder in return. “But, it’s all true. Truth these days is deadlier than any gun or sword. It can take down an entire group of waterheads at once. And, speaking of truth; here’s some more truth back onto the subject of the XWF. After Jon Brown’s reign of terror ended, the company went through owners faster than the Redskins go through Quarterbacks, each of them more boneheaded then the last. Honorable mention to Jason Ca$h, as that dude wasn’t talented enough to lace boots and job out to Chad; let alone run a fucking company. But, that’s another story for another day. Shane , owner of the failed CCWF; decided to come in and attempt to Jon Brown the XWF better than Jon Brown did. He discounted all the XWF Legends, banned all of us from the boards and began running the fucking place deeper into the ground. If I could talk to for just five fucking seconds, I would say….”Fuck you, you brainless, dickless motherfucker! You are irrelevant, YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN IRRELEVANT! You’re so fucking irrelevant that by comparison you make Raziel appear as if he matters. Next time you try to make the XWF your own person power bottom and fuck it to smithereens, it will be ME that you will be standing eye to eye with and I fucking guarantee that it’ll be the last fucking thing you do.” It’s not that I give a fuck about any of the jobbers on this roster, you understand brotha. But I MADE THE XWF! That company got on the map and fucking stayed there BECAUSE OF ME! And, I’ll be damned if some wannabe wrestling promoter is going to come into the house that I built and level the damn place. Hence, why I am returning to a company that I haven’t set foot in for over a decade. You know brotha, that James Raven and I know each other very well. We’ve been allies, we’ve been enemies and everything in between. I respect James Raven, I always will. But and this is a big but. A but that rivals that of Cyren’s wife’s. But I do not believe that Raven has what it takes to successfully run the XWF. He’s a wrestler, it’s in his fucking blood. He is a wrestler through and through. He is NOT a promoter. And that being said, I’ll be damned if I sit back and watch yet another half-assed CEO tear down the house that I built.”

Danny lifts his Four Loco and nods his head towards me. “Cheers to that brotha.”

“The only downside of all this is that Raven is fully aware that when I am in this state, when my focus is at 110% the way it is now, that no one including him, can stop me. Knowing that, he will avoid me the best that he can. Bring in my opponent for Leap of Faith, Roxy Fucking Nova?” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

“I don’t mean to sound sexist brotha.” Danny said. “In this day and age, that kinda thing will get you ostracized. But, isn’t it a bit…. unbalanced having a woman fight one of the best there ever was?”

“Well Danny, I don’t give a fuck if I sound sexist. I am a man and she is a woman. Meaning, her job as a woman is to back the fuck off and stay out of our way. If I need Bobdamned sandwich, then I will call her. Otherwise, someone should show her the way to the fucking way to the knitting circle. Women’s rights, women’s revolution, fucking hogwash. Women have the right to feed us, fuck us and shut the fuck up. The only revolution they need to move towards is washing our Bobdamned underpants without bitching a fit while they do it. And she thinks that getting into the ring with me is wise!? I will rip her dishpan hands off her body and use them both to jerk my cock into submission.”

“Hmmph.” I chuckled, shaking my head as I took another sip of my whiskey. “This match is a joke. It’s just a way for Raven to keep me busy. But, you have got to question the ethics of a man who would toss his own friend into the proverbial lion’s den. A frail, weak, powerless woman….thrown to a man who has ripped apart people three-times her size. This isn’t going to be a fight, my brotha. It isn’t going to get match of the week or be studied by up and coming young talent to see how to put on a proper match. No. This is going to be a slaughter, plain and simple. I have been in the ring every week with nobody’s that we hired since my last official match, just to keep ring-rust from forming. I am in peak physical condition and I am mean, I am big and as always, I am angry. That bitch had better backout of this match, or else the card following Leap of Faith will be a special card. “A memorial to the late Roxy Nova.” I don’t want that to happen, really, I don’t. Roxy is one hot piece of ass; it’d be a shame to see her breathe her last breath as she chokes on her own blood. But, James Raven made this happen. He is responsible for whatever happens. Not me.”

“HAHAHAHA.” Danny bellowed. “I’m not saying that your words aren’t 100% true, but I’m just sayin’….everything you said makes you sound like a pigheaded conservative.”

“Well, everything doesn’t have to be political Brotha.” I said. “That’s what the assclowns of today would like to think. But you know me, I am an equal opportunity hater. I hate everyone regardless of skin color, gender, religious beliefs or political alignment. That being said, I’d be remiss to leave out the true scum of this country. The other percentage of XWF fans and wrestling fans in general, are the brainless, uneducated, sister fucking republicunts. The ones waving their guns around for the world to see whilst trying to bullshit the rest of the country into believing that they follow “God’s law” and actually give a shit about human life. The same fuckers who blindly elected a man with the IQ of the used bloody tampon that his whore wife pulls out of her stretched wider than the Grand Canyon sized pussy every 28 days. That orange nightmare who wants to deport innocent people from this country, ripping innocent children out of the arms of their parents simply because they weren’t born in this shit stain of a country. Build a wall around this country to “secure the border” when his demented sex offending mind can’t even figure out how to secure his fingers from posting idiotic shit on twitter like a twelve year old girl that got dumped on prom night for her fatter friend that gives head. Yet, these fucking back-woods “you’ve got a purdy mouth” yokels claim to be people of Christ? Yeah, right. They follow Christ’ rule like I keep my dick in my pants, and let’s just say that I have had sex ten times today, 7 with a partner and once since we’ve been sitting here fuckin’ yacking. These vile excuses for human life are what is WORST about this country. Segregating people, saying who is worth something and who isn’t based upon their own twisted opinions. Oh, they’re gay, they don’t matter. They’re Mexican, so they don’t matter. Or oh, they’re poor so they don’t matter. Yeah, I don’t remember that part of the bible. So, while not meaning to make this political or about religion Danny, that group of people is my LEAST FAVORITE. And they can kiss my ass double-time. But in the end, all the conservative nutjobs, the liberal big mouths and everyone in between can suck my big fat dick. This world is fuckin’ polluted with scum and of course, so is the XWF fan base and roster. At Leap of Faith I plan to begin a quest to bring as much pain, as much suffering, as much sadness and butt-hurt as I can to all the low life shitheads as I can. It is by doing this that I can purge the XWF of the fuckery which has poisoned it for years. Roxy Nova is nothing but a means to an end, a sacrificial lamb to something far bigger than herself. No more sitting back and watching this bullshit, no more catering to a fan base full of dumbasses, no more mister nice guy.”


August 15th, 2015

Summer has always been my favorite time of year. As a child and a teenager, I experienced most of my fun times during the summer months. Even to this day, when I ride in a car during the summer, close my eyes, feel the warm breeze blowing through my hair and the rays of sun shining onto my face; I am transported back to a simpler time. A time where the stress, the responsibilities and the worries were not present and instead, the days were fun, carefree and beautiful. It only takes one moment though to change things. One summer to leave a scar on one’s psyche which never heals. One event to leave a mark on a person’s memories, taking them not to all the great summer memories anymore, but to the one horrifying, heart stopping memory. That summer was the summer of 2015. That day was August 15th. It was the one event that would not only change the way I viewed the world but change me as a person. The one event that left a everlasting scar upon me, one that would likely never completely heal.

I sat behind the wheel of the grand motorhome that I had purchased for touring, it was a lot like the one that Jack Burns owned on Meet the Fockers; that was actually where I got the idea to buy it in the first place. Though I wasn’t wrestling at the time, I was still touring around the country going from autograph signing to autograph signing, from appearance to appearance meeting and greeting the fans. On that particular night, I had slept for an hour as I attempted to drive through the night from Cleveland to Chicago. I had to make it to Chicago for a special appearance, as my fans meant so much to me at the time. As I sat behind the wheel of the RV, my hands shaking from all the coffee I had steadily drank in an attempt to stay awake; I glanced down at the security monitors. My beloved wife Laura, my brother Danny, my Brother-in-Law Vinnie, my brothers Dom and Al and my little two-month old daughter Clementine; all sleeping like babies. My birth family hadn’t given a shit about me except my father who had died some years back, so the people in that RV were my family. All the late nights, all the wrestling matches that left me a beaten and bloody mess, were all for them. I turned my attention back toward the road. The rain was pouring down and the wind was blowing like Raziel’s mom at an army recruitment day. As I sat, I began to feel suddenly sleepy….but really, it wasn’t that bad. I reached down and flipped the CD player on, “Home sweet home” by Motley Crue began playing….

“This is great.” I whispered to myself. “I am perfectly fine………”

Darkness washed over the dude.

I opened my eyes to a site that I still cannot forget. I see it whenever I close my eyes. The RV flying through the air like a jet and in the security monitor, I could see those who meant the most to me all screaming in terror.

“HOLD ON!” Is all I had time to shout before the RV slammed into the side of a Denny’s. After that, I passed out.

Two hours later….

I awoke in a hospital bed, a beautiful busty nurse standing over me writing something down on some papers attached to a clipboard.

“Is….is this heaven!?” I asked. “I…I didn’t think I’d end up here, to be honest. But, with tits like that this can’t be hell.”

She stopped writing and looked down at me. “No, Mr. Gambino. You are in the hospital. You and your friends, wife and child were involved in an automobile accident. Apparently, you fell asleep behind the wheel and crashed into a Denny’s.”

“FUCK!” I shouted as I I flew up in my bed, remembering what had happened. My heart pounding like a rabbit’s. “MY FAMILY, MY FAMILY!”

“Your family and your friends are all alright, Mr. Gambino.” She said. “The police on the scene said that they all went home and prayed after witnessing the whole thing because it was the first true miracle they had ever witnessed. There is no way any of you should’ve survived, let alone be in as good of condition as you all are.”

“Let’s get one thing straight….what was your name?” I asked.

“Nurse Cindy.” She replied, pointing to her badge.

“Let’s get one thing straight Cindy. Those people in there, they aren’t my friends and my family. THEY ARE MY FUCKIN’ FAMILY. And, it is my fuckin’ fault that this happened in the first place. Putting so much effort into keeping my damn fans happy almost killed the ones who TRULY give a fuck about me.”

“Mr. Gambino.” Cindy said, looking sincere. “You can’t blame yourself, you’ve got to think of this as a blessing. Now, would you like to go see your wife and daughter?”

“Yes….more than anything.” I said. “Just let me use the restroom first.”

I climbed up from my bed, pulling the IV stand behind myself. I was a little sore, but nothing too bad, Nothing even as bad as the way I felt after a match. I went into the bathroom, closed the door behind me and walked over to the sink. In the mirror, a bruised and lightly scratched face looked back at me. Not too shabby, really. I reached down and turned the faucet on and splashed my face with water. As I stood there looking at my reflecting, I began reflecting about all that had happened.

“These fucking fans, I almost killed the people that mean the most to me for THESE FUCKING FANS. And, what have these fans ever done for me!? WHAT!? WELL, THIS IS THE LAST FUCKING TIME. THE LAST BOBDAMN TIME!”

In a fit of fury, I slammed my fist through the wall beside me, breaking a hole into it.

“MR. GAMBINO!” Cindy yelled. “WHAT ARE YOU DOIN!?”

“FUCK OFF CINDY!” I shouted. “YOU’VE GOT MY CREDIT CARD, CHARGE ME FOR IT. IF I KNOW THE WAY SHIT WORKS THERE’LL BE MARBLE FLOORS IN HERE BY NEXT WEEK!”

No more. I would give no more of myself to the fans. From then on, it would all be about me.