((OOC: You can find Part 1 here.))

The area around me began to shift, to mesh and mold. I was now in... a wrestling ring? My breath failed me. It was a wrestling ring. A damned good one, at that.

"So," I said, bouncing my toes a bit to get a feel for the mat, "I suppose you're going to help me train?"

"You're damned right." My Mind- Father responded. "And the fighting starts... NOW!" Immediately he lunged forward, connecting a solid right hand to my jaw.

I stepped back some, trying to get my jaw back into place. "Quick start, much?" I complained.

My father responded to me by driving a knee into my gut, as I wheezed out blood. "You think Sane is going to show you mercy?" he shouted. "Or how about Gator? You think you're anything to them, other than an ant?!"

I gripped my knuckles as I stepped back once more, before launching some punches at my father, who either dodged the majority of them with ease, or blocked them. My breath escaped me as when I threw my last punch, he threw it to my side, then gave me a step- up enziguri for my troubles.

All of a sudden, I felt hard steel connect against my back.

A steel chair.

Great.

"Shouldn't you get disqualified for that?" I said as I tried to get up. As soon as I got blasted by the steel chair again, I saw a downed referee. Great.

Isn't that just wonderful?

My breath escaped me once more as I was paddled. I groaned as I tried to get up. I was on my knees-

SMACK!

Immediately I was on my back again, as I tried to roll out of the way, but-

SMACK!

Again.

SMACK!

Again.

SMACK!

Again.

SMACK! THUD!

I felt the top of the chair dig into my spine this time, but all of a sudden, everything seemed to be moving in super- slow- mo, able to see things much clearer. I rolled around- my mind- father was looking to finish me off with one last, powerful chair strike.

I couldn't let that happen... I just... couldn't.

Immediately, I sprang into action, sweeping my mind- father's legs, him dropping the steel chair as he landed with a thud. We both got back up quickly as I threw some punches his way, beating him into a corner. I irish whip'd him into the opposing corner, but he reversed it, sending me into the corner. Predicting the reversal, I pretended as if the turnbuckles were a wall, my feet climbing up them before back-flipping off of the top one, leaving Mind- Dad to crash his chest into the top turnbuckle.

I continued running as Mind- Dad went back to the center of the ring. I bounced off the ropes, ducking an attempted clothesline. As Mind- Dad turned around, I springboarded off the ropes and connected with a clean European Uppercut, taking Mind- Dad off his feet and onto his ass. I didn't waste anymore time, and quickly hit a Shooting Star Splash. I hooked his legs for the cover... only to realize the referee was down!

"DAMMIT!" I cursed as I went over to the ref, trying desperately to shake him awake. "Come on... come on..." I repeatedly muttered with each shake.

Finally, after a couple of minutes, the ref was beginning to stir. He was crawling around for a few seconds, but now he's on his knees... on his feet, but hunched over... all of a sudden--



A fucking Curb Stomp.

Fantastic.

And since the ref never saw Mind- Dad do that, he can't disqualify him when he wakes back up.

Doesn't everything in life turn out just swell?

I waited for Mind- Robert to recover his bearings before quickly blasting him with my signature Lights Out Spinebuster. While he was down, I fervently applied a Sharpshooter, hoping that the ref could hear his taps. Only... he wasn't tapping. He was crawling.

I noticed it too late, and by the time I managed to drag him to the center of the ring, I felt something wooden connect hard with my poor, aching back. A goddamned baseball bat.

I immediately flew myself off, trying to rebound off the ropes to take a page out of his book with the Curb Stomp, but he was expecting it. Right when my foot was directly above his head, he slammed a home- run hit right where the sun doesn't shine.

I clasped my family jewels, writhing on the floor in agony as Mind- Dad hooked my legs... but the ref was still out! Robert's eyes flashed before trying to get the ref up. But right when he got to him...

THUD! The baseball bat connected cleanly with Robert's cranium! He falls to the mat like a heap of bricks as I throw the bat out and cover him. The ref has enough energy for this one count...

1....













2..............







Thr- NO! Robert kicked out at 2.9!

I was furious, and because of that, while I stomped and muddled myself around the ring, that allowed Robert to get back up, and almost immediately, he ran up to my backside and gave me a dropkick.

We both immediately got up, only I got myself another dropkick for my troubles. Then, Robert held me in a gutwrench suplex position. However, as he lifted me up, right when my butt hit the floor, I snaked my arm around his leg, and rolled him over me, and got him into my Pure Perfection Lion Tamer. As Robert is squirming around, he notices the ref finally stirring and getting back to his feet. With a final sigh, he knew there was no chance of escaping, and because of that, he tapped out.

I released the hold, outstretching my arm for him to take. I pulled himself up, into a quick father- son hug.

"You've made me proud, my son." Robert whispered into my ear. "Perhaps... perhaps you are ready. Joshua, can you make me a promise?"

"Yes, dad?"

"Promise... promise me you're going to be holding nothing back. Promise me you're going to be tearing Defiance down in that ring, brick by goddamned brick. Please. Grant this old manifest one last request, and I'll still be here, ready and willing to guide you."

As soon as I released the hug, with a gigantic smile, I said, "Yeah, Dad. I will."

---

---

---

A Goddamed Twin that Never Knows When to Shut the Fuck Up Said:"This is one of the worst promos I have ever sat through in my life, alone you two do terribly. Together you somehow do worse. It amazes me really. You two have done nothing this week, and I am just in awe of how much the both of you fucking suck. After this match, I want the both of you to apologise for wasting my time. See you tomorrow."

A loud puff can be heard from the nostrils of the Avatar of Perfection, as he struggles to get through this Gator promo, but finally, he has done it. Mav has made it through the promo... only to watch it again, but this time, rip the mother fucker to shreds.

"This mother fucking dumbass."

Red Power Ranger Said:"One second in and I'm calling bullshit on this voice. Define busy. This week is not what I would call a busy week, this is Iceman's second promo. This is the only fucking promo he has recorded this week! Scully has the mind, attention span, attitude and play schedule of a child so he hasn't been fucking busy. Last week? You two 'seasoned' wrestlers kicked the shit out of Hot Topic employees. Wow, so busy, much tired. Oh, but Scully was in jail! And paying someone's bail sooo fucking tiring. Bet you could only get half a promo out from doing that Iceman."

"It was also a busy week outside of what the narrator said. I mean, shit, Scully had his girlfriend move in, exhausting process, hell, I should know, as I was there. Of course, Gator, you wouldn't know anything of helping friends like that, since you're too much of a douche to even consider helping. And, I'm sure you can agree that dealing with Scully is draining."

Lazarus' Bitch Ass Twin Brother Said:"So I'm guessing Scully wrote the narrator's script. Clue's in the name you stupid cunts, Wednesday Night Warfare. Wednesday. Today is Tuesday. Days can not be that hard, seriously. Even you two can't be so fucking dumb to not realise when you're meant to have your match. One of the biggest matches you will ever have! Hahahahaha!! Fuck's sake. And you can't blame it on someone else here, even guys who started yesterday re-watch their promos to make sure there's no big mistakes. And there is such a thing as video editing so don't give me any shit like it was the narrator's fault. Haha, fucking imbeciles."

"I have to admit, I'm partially to blame for that one. While I was in the hospital due to my head wound, Scully looked over the promo, didn't notice the narrator's voice error, etc., and then posted the promo under my name on the official site."

Gator the Hater Said:"Okay, enough disrespecting the poor man who's getting paid to do a job. Let's move on to the real stars of this shit show. So you two have had your eyes on the belts for a while, and tonight will be hell on Earth. Right about that. What else, what else. Defiance will fall, and the XWF will have true tag team champions... Haha, wow. You honestly believe that you two deserve the tag belts. Really. Why exactly? Because you have tenacity, because you have heart. But nothing else. You think you can do it, but you don't have the skill TO do it. You 'earned' a shot by beating two guys who joined, what? Two weeks ago and have done sweet fuck all. You earned a title shot like an unborn fetus earned an abortion. You both won a match that nobody cared about, a match that was put together at the last minute, a match with four of the worst guys that the XWF has to offer. And you barely won, so what makes you think you have a snowballs chance in hell against me and Sane?"

"No, I know we have skill. I just knew it was so fucking obvious it didn't need reiteration. Besides, go on about us deserving this shot like how an unborn fetus with an abortion, but I think anything would be better than paper champions who have to buy their way to the top. Looking at you, Sane. You goddamned pussy."

Who wears a red suit, has been kicked out of a movie they were a stunt double in, and teams with pussy ass <img src="https://i.imgur.com/pUgtAVa.gif"> Said:"It doesn't take a genius to see you stop, think and sometimes talk to yourself Iceman. It's either you're going fucking crazy seeing ghosts, have an imaginary friend or just get so lonely at times you talk to yourself to make it feel like you have company. And after this, you call me a . So, I'm a for knowing you have Drop Dead Fred following you around and giving you advice, terrible advice from the looks at it. I'm a for seeing you act all fucking weird in your promos and guessing right, that you actually get a pep talk from some unseen force. That's not a , I'm a goddamn psychic apparently. Or, maybe I just have the common sense to know when I see some asshole talking to himself, he's either crazy or is wearing a bluetooth headset. And since it's not the early 2000s anymore, I guessed you're crazy. And I'm right, like always."

"Even still, noticing how I'm getting a pep talk is pretty far out there. And you're a goddamned who happens to be a psychic for getting the description totally wrong. Drop Dead Fred? Come now, Gator, if you managed to see that I was getting a pep talk, period, at least go the whole mile and say who it is I'm getting this pep talk from."

And should also go kill himself Said:"You have never watched a Lazarus promo, if you did you would know the differences."

"Shall we note that Lazarus is Luca, and Luca is an extreme comedic force here? Fuck, either he's saying 'mang,' or he's threatening to sick his twenty- six cousins on you or whatever. Also, didn't Laz break into a house to see his son? And as for the drugs, it's no scarce fact that you smoke cigarettes, and tobacco is a drug. As for Lazarus... well, it's no scarce secret Luca is a frequent coke abuser. Hell, didn't he do coke and fuck Katie that one time?"

"Then, there are points in the promo after that that make me burst out of my seat, laughing. Like, when he was begging me to point out the points? Gator, man, I don't know if you noticed, but that interview happened at Lethal Lottery! When NO promos were filmed! I was PREDICTING your promos were going to be full of holes! And guess what? I was fucking right! Hell, that mistake right there also fills that 'rare intelligence' hole you created there too. I mean, shit, and you think you have a chance of beating me and Scully?"

"Just go home. Please. And don't let the door hit you on the way out. And please be sure to take your vagina Sane with you."