Vinnie is standing near his open bathroom door, holding an ice pack to his head after the brutal loss to Dolly Waters at XWF Revelry the night before. Roxy Cotton is filing her nails nearby.


“So, dude, like, I think I totally have it won, right? I mean, I got a little confused, there were pins in there and then other times we were trying to climb a ladder and whatnot… but I still think I’ve got it! The Black Label Driver from the ladder? No WAY anyone’s getting up from that, right? Then… WHAM! And not the sweet duo with George Michael and that other guy. But BOOM, the lights go out on me! Dolly’s Pike County Plunge put me to sleep, Rox!”


“Yup. Yeah, for sure.”


“Yeah! But like dude, the match was so bodacious. I’ve still GOT it, Roxy! I need to clean some stuff up, you know, but my neck was solid! All  those stem cell treatments worked! God bless abortion, right?”


“Definitely…”


“So anyway… turns out Gravy needed  a partner on Anarchy or whatever so I decided… why not go again? Maybe it can be a for real comeback!”


”I mean not if it gets HAIR everywhere…”


”Wait what?”


”Ang, you can’t be serious. Having a movie night with ten cats is just going to be a huge mess! Plus aren’t like three of them in heat? No no no, I think I forgot I had plans. Yep. I have plans.”


Roxy walks away, and it eventually dawns on Vinnie that the entire time he thought she was talking to him, she was just talking to her bestie on bluetooth.


”Lame. Well, you know what? It’s cool… I’m gonna wrestle again, and it’s gonna be rad. I’m in the best shape of my life! Fit as a fiddle. And I still look like I did when I was 25!”


At this point, Micheal Graves Walks around the corner of the hallway with a huge trash bag that looks like it weighs 40 pounds. He has a clothespin on his nose also.


”Vinnie, what the fuckin’ fuck? Did you say you looked 25?”


Vinnie dry heaves,waving at the air with both hands.


”Oh dude GROSS! What the crud IS that?”


”No biggie. I saw you hadn’t cleaned out Miss Furry’s litter box this week, so I handled it. Don’t worry, I’ll keep it in my room. For reasons you don’t need to know. Oh, thanks again for letting me rent the room out while I scout new talent for the Gravy Wrestling School! Check this guy out! I’m gonna call him the HECK Raiser! He cuts a HECK of a promo!”


Gravy holds up his phone to show Vinnie a video of his newest prospect.






Vinnie gags halfway through the incredible mic work though, unable to hold his breath any longer.


”Dude get that dirty litter outta here, man! I’m gonna blow chunks!”


Gravy starts to walk away in one direction.


”And do NOT take that into your room to have sex with it later!”


Gravy stops and walks the other way.


”Fine! But you should really look in a mirror if you think you look young! You JERK!”


Gravy walks away, and Vinnie is left standing with his jaw hanging wide open.  No way Graves could be implying what it seemed like he was implying.


Vnnie stepped into his bathroom and took a good hard look at himself in the mirror.






”Oh what the CRAP! I need to get more sleep!”


Vinnie backs away from the bathroom shaking his head.


”On Anarchy, I got to get back in the win column… and I’m not gonna do it without getting a good night’s rest. A solid talent like Razor is going to take some real preparation! I need to hit the gym ASAP, and watch some game tape while I work on my cardio. Then, it’s cryotherapy time. Then a stem cell smoothie. Weight training. A ring sparring session. Then even more cardio… and crunches! SO MANY crunches! These abs are gonna be my secret weapon!”


The newest addition to the Vinnie Lane household, his alien hybrid daughter Minnie Lane, walks into the area holding the unconscious body of Mini Morbid.


“I believe I may have harvested too much seed from him, Father.”


”OH NO! Mini Morbid! Wake up, dude!”


Loverboy snatches Mini Morbid from Minnie Lane’s arms and lays him on the floor, beginning chest compressions. Each press makes a sound like a dog’s squeak toy. Eventually, Mini Morbid’s eyes do flutter open.


“R… ready… for round two… you vile succubus…”


Gravy walks back into the room, sans bag. One look at Minnie’s firm ass sends Gravy’s eyeballs shooting out of his skull, and the clothespin rocketing across the room where it stabs Vinnie in the left eye pretty hard…. Yep, it left a gnarly scratch.


”WOW—WEEEEE!”


Gravy defies logic as he instantly transports to Mini’s side, where he bonks him over the head, knocking him back out. Graves then slinks uncomfortably close to Minnie, leaning to speak directly into her ear. ”HELLO, ME’LADY!”


”Graves, knock it off!”


Gravy, ignoring Lane’s request, leans in closer to Minnie. ”Say, seeing as the little fella is all tuckered out, what’s say you and I.” Gravy playfully raises his eyebrows and makes a suggestive whistling sound. ”You know, seeing as I’m a man, and you’re a… you’re a woman, right?”


”GRAVY!”


Gravy somehow pulls a fedora out of nowhere just to tip it towards Minnie.


”You know, I have seen EVERY EPISODE of Ancient Aliens…”


Minnie looks Gravy up and down, then seemingly sniffs the air around him. She slowly shakes her head and walks away.


Mini Morbid pops up, screaming after her.


“I AM NOT FINISHED WITH YOU, WHORE OF BABYLON!!!”


”What the shit just happened Vinnie? Your dumb outer space daughter is STUPID if she doesn’t want this grade A, EXTRA THICK—DEFF NOT VIRGIN—BABY-GRAVY~!!! It’s got the consistency of lumpy pancake mix, which means it’s BETTER—STRONGER SPERM~! Pfffft” (Gravy rolls his eyes) ”Bitch don’t know what she’s talking aboo—”


*SMACK*


”That’s my daughter, dude!”


Graves doesn’t flinch from the slap. He stands there. Strong. Resolute. Lane smacked him pretty hard. I mean, that was his daughter Gravy was trying to not only get freaky with, but then totally disrespect. What did he think would happen. Regardless, in that moment, Lane might have gained a tiny bit of respect for Gravy…


That is, had a single tear not suddenly began to creep down his cheek, before—BOOM—Gravy’s fucking left eyebrow fell off!


”that’s not a normal reaction…”


Graves stands stone-still, using all of his might to NOT be a bitch in front of Lane.


”I—I’m not a normal g—guy!” Gravy stammered.


”you got that right.”


As the pain builds, Gravy’s inner rage boils over.


PROMO TIME! (He still doesn’t move though. Stone-still)


“RAZOR BLADE! You pathetic excuse for a wrestler! I’ve been longing for this day ever since I had the displeasure of losing a boner to your first match. Don’t ask what I was doing… Anyway, you suck! Lane think’s you’re great, but he’s got a shitty eye for talent! Why do you think Dolly’s here! Again! And Again! He told me not to bring her up because he just lost to her and it might make him look weak, but fuck Lane, I beat her, like a bajillion times. I’m the Gilly to her Lane.”


Gravy nudges Lanes (so much for stone-still) who is steaming (most likely at the mention of )


”Anyway, yeah, you lose a lot. More than me. That means you’re a jobber, no matter WHAT the OLD man thinks! And then!


Then you think teaming up with that hot piece of gender ambiguity, Latoya Suxx (I hope (s)he do!) is going to save you!? She’s as much a loser as you are, just hotter! Neither of you could win a match if your lives depended on it! Me on the other hand, I win… enough. BUT THIS GUY!”


Gravy wraps an arm around Lane and pulls him in close. Lane, of course, pushes away instinctively (plus Gravy smells pretty awful 99.3% of the time). ”This guy is a bonafide LEGEND! HALL OF LEGENDS AND EVERYTHING!” Gravy drops his voice to a whisper. ”Hey, you are in there, right!?”


Not even waiting for a reply, Graves turns his attention back to the unknown recording device filming all of this nonsense. ”Me and Lane are gonna make sure your ‘American Nightmare’ becomes a LIVING NIGHTMARE! You talk big in front of all them fans who, for some reason, keep showing up to these arena’s early just to film promos with you.


You know what, that actually might be the core of what pisses me off about you. I don’t get a fuckin’ 10,000 seat arena full of cheering fans for my promo work. I just get a CamBot and a bottle of lube if I’m lucky.


What’s the lube for?


Funny you should ask.


Cause I did ask—THIS GUY!


Know what he told me?


Fucker said it was for the chapping my opponent was going to give me.


Well I got the ass-chapper extraordinaire in my corner, fuckers—so maybe I’ll send over a couple of bottles from my personal reserve!


Take it old man!”


Graves stands firm until Lane takes the center of attention.


”Gravy, you’re one strange dude, but you know what? You’re my strange dude!”


As Lane turns his attention to the camera, Graves finally reacts to that slap, cryin’ like a bitch in the background.


“I can’t believe you slapped me, Vinnie! WHAT THE FUCK!?”


Graves flails wildly, knocking over a shelf stacked with memorabilia. A bowling ball falls and rolls directly into the tripod holding up the camera and it topples over, crashing to the ground and sending the live feed into a staticy mess.


”Oh, come on, Gravy! Look what you’ve done!”


”I didn’t mean to! It’s just my fucking face hurts!”


Suddenly, the lights flicker, and the ceiling opens up, and a beam of light shoots down from a UFO hovering above the house.


”Whoa, what’s happening now?!”


"I call this Thursday."


With that said, the beam pulls Graves, Vinnie, and the slightly malfunctioning camera into the air. They flail and scream as they're lifted toward the UFO and the feed goes black with a message: