The sight of the gibbous moon protruding it's convex face outwardly and shining its direct moonlight over the sphere at the end of the worlds edge, and with this protruding its head out over the (western) horizon. As in its turn, the brightness from the sun as it does every day, tucks its head down for a long nights rest on the exact opposite (eastern) horizon . This be it the time and world we know it to exist, as it unfolds before thine eyes and brings the utmost of all attention to the fire beginning to burn in the pit of the soul. It lingers for the return of the gibbous moon, waiting anxiously for this moment with curiosity as we constantly continue on this course. We now re-light the fire at it's curious core, and fuel the flames with the boiling blood beneath our skin to a hi6her and hi6her and hi6her temperatures as you move your methodical vision sensors, bottom to top and left to right. As we both dance and skip our way across the pages together, the gibbous moon watches and learns a little bit more about you, then you do about it, with each changing day coming to its nightly end.

Now, nobody should have to explain in great detail the difference between the light that emancipates from the sun as opposed to the moon. We've all lived our day to day lives to realize that both cast a hue of light; however, these two different hues work in direct contrast from one another. Those distinguishing the difference of the two in this area; within the brightness to which their eyes can see, are marching down a mindless meandering mistake with a predisposed plot of monotonous mediocrity. The feelings and emotions gathered and soaked through the skin, and not the actual brightness of the hue being projected, is where these two actually differ quite greatly. Those that feel enamored with the light of the moon have now become trapped and enthralled by its unique stare and glow. They can now confirm within the conversations that they have with their own conscious, that someone is staring back at them far off in the distance. As both vision and inquisitive thoughts now stretch towards the stares in the sky, traveling upwards and rising up past the moon and ascending past a sea of clouds.

We eventually arrive after hours of travel upward, upon a city of what can best be described as only a complete masterpiece of beauty floating high above a world where we once sat next to the moon and its midnight glow. The existence of this light in the far off distance still illuminates the sky forever after up, out, and beyond the reaches of the endless void. A cloud city similar to that in Bespin, of immaculate and sophisticated structures compromised of the most technologically computer sci-fi alien advanced building materials ever seen. This sight unfolds quickly in front of ones view as we hover closer and closer towards a pair of glowing gates, swinging open and allowing our entry. Above these gates hangs a banner that reads 'Great Big Giant Meeting for GOD! Way Up High in the Sky.'

Our wandering eyes eventually hover their way inside one of these floating buildings, where a giant seminar of some sorts is taking place. This meeting is taking place in a giant empty dome, completely covered in nothing but a glass ceiling, and a dark black pit in its center. This entrenched gorge creased down the center that travels far downwards beyond the point of our immediate view from the ground underneath ones feet. In order to gain any view of the congregation taking place in this floating christmas globe in the sky, will need to hover and peek our way to the top of the glass ceiling. Sliding our way past the abnormally large and curved window frame, contextually carving it's way around the surface of this building as if it were a flying saucer. We glide from the wide end bottom of the globe, to the narrow tip at the top. We find there, what may be a giant magnifying glass under closer speculation peering down towards the pit. When we do eventually reach the peak where we can look down and see magnified far deep inwards in this globe to see what is a near bottomless pit. Without the magnification it would be impossible to see that t the bottom, sits an array of glowing ghost auras shining brightly all lined up neatly in a row.

Faceless anomalies of smoke and vapor rising from a heat source that one can only be distinctively differentiated among the others by the hue of the light casting the color shadow above the candles that keep them burning. That, along with a name tag taped directly beneath each glowing flame giving a name to match their corresponding colors. Just like a menorah, one flame burns more brightly and stands in the middle of the pack. SHAMASH!, also known as the centerpiece and flame that is used to fuel the rest of those stretched out like wings from his centerpiece. A dark black flame burning even blacker than the night itself holds them all together at the center, beneath it on the name tag reads 'JOB!' Outstretched like wings from this dark black ghostly glowing flame in the center, was a various degree of other flames glowing in colors, sort of like a rainbow but the colors are not as bright and homosexual like, they are however, when compared to the one in the center, more of a lighter tint. The varying colors seem to be in great debate, arguing and shouting over the other. The voices begin to break up and lower in intensity as they try to gather towards civil conversation. We reveal to you now both the colors, name tags, and dialogue of this 'Great Big Giant Meeting for GOD! Way Up High in the Sky.'

Buddha: "You give him everything JOB! I guarantee that he wouldn't fall on his knees and worship you if you refuse to give him what he wants!"

Allah: "Why are we now speaking in English, this is fucking goat shit!"

Odin: "We just went over this, we wanted to hold the meetings in R'lyehian like we usually do, but our new audience watching us up there wouldn't be able to understand."

Zeus: "Everyone stop straying from the important issue at hand. JOB! stop spoiling him like a little brat and let's see if he still worships you! Don't give into his requests this time!"

Elohim: "You're just afraid JOB! that he'll no longer worship you. We dare you to finally test his faith!"

Xenu: "Stop being such a pussy JOB! don't let him catch the disease."

Eru Illuvatar: "Let's see how much he loves you, when you don't give him dat diff. That sweet, sweet C. Diff that he craves to be infected with."

JOB!: "Fine, fuck you !"



The sun can certainly reflect a painful reflection into the cornea of the eye, bouncing off the surface of the dessert. It also greatly affects the lens of a camera that isn't suited to adjust to this type of light bending activity, along with sand flying all over the place. Which is why the fuzziness and flashing bits of black and white like the static on a television with a lost reception may cloud our approaching entrance towards a dilapidated shack in South Africa. Yes, we're aware that South Africa is actually one of the thriving nations in the African continent; however, I'm sure there's some kind of aboriginal tribe of lesser intelligence there somewhere. This particular shack is intriguing, because beneath it's structure it is apparent that a water leakage is spreading and wetting the sand underneath it. A tribe of extremely thirsty looking aborigine looking people huddle around this shack. Licking their lips trying to dry them from the wafting bits of sand soaring through the air in the wind. Some even eating the dampened sand that lay directly beneath the feet of this run down wooded building. But for some reason none of them enter, that is, until we make our way slowly up towards the entrance and inside the shack.

Inside we find a completely water soaked sand floor, sinking inward on it's own self sort of like quicksand. Thus, giving one the feeling of slightly being pulled under with each passing second whilst standing in the same spot for too long. In the center of the shack is a lone shower head protruding water constantly from its spout. Most likely the only source of water for this tribe, probably put their by some Red Cross group or some shit, who knows, I guess that's what they call 'helping'. But we digress due to the immediate attention that must be given to the XWF Xtreme Champion, crouched on the ground in the fetal position beneath the shower completely naked rocking back and forth. In his right hand, he holds the 12 inch long metal dildo that Ghost Tank shoved up his ass on the last Warfare. He sits up slightly so that he is now sitting on his rear end, still rocking back and forth and looking down beneath his feet looking very uncharacteristically like ashamed. He continues swaying back and forth, but now has taken to licking the edge of the metal dildo with his tongue, and we all certainly know where that giant dildo has been lately.

Unknown Soldier: "Why SATAN! Why can't I have C-Diff! WHY!?!?!"

Soldier stands up, and begins limping horribly like Quasi Modo towards one of the walls of the shack. Wincing and grabbing at his ass like anyone would if a foot long piece of metal just got shoved up it. He slams his fists and head against the wall, wailing in both immense pain and anguish.

Unknown Soldier: "Why have you forsaken me SATAN! and sent me out into the middle of the fucking dessert. What kind of biblical reference bullshit is this! It's so damn hot out here that I think I'm starting to get boils! Why SATAN! Why have you not healed the wounds that were given to me by Ghost Tank on the last Warfare."

Soldier turns around to reveal his back still torn to pieces by one of the meat hooks during his title defense match with Ghost Tank on the last episode of Warfare. He's still definitely in a great deal of pain and since Soldier is so used to his wounds healing naturally through the power of SATAN!, he hasn't even thought to go see any medical staff and so the wound is still not wrapped and left completely open and most assuredly highly infected by now.

Unknown Soldier: "I don't even care about the sharp pain in my asshole or my entire backside looking like Ghost Tank's big troll ass took a bite out of it. Just gimmie dat Diff! Dat Diff! That sweet, sweet C. Diff! How I long for the smell of pennies and nickels in my pants! I need it SATAN! I even sneaked my way into Vinnie Lane's pink mansion, and licked every inch of his bathroom floor after hiding in his bathroom closet and pounding off while watching Roxy Cotton take a bath."

He then falls to his knees while raising his head up towards the pouring water from the shower head, raising his hands upwards and screaming while the water splashes directly into his face.

Unknown Soldier: "Hail SATAN! Please give me dat diff and help guide me with your strength and knowledge once again, amen."

Soldier stands back up fully and opens his eyes, still standing beneath the running water he speaks quite quickly again, but more characteristically now in his more cocky and arrogant tone.

Unknown Soldier: "We had a poll recently on 666.com and have been getting a lot of feedback from all the Soldier fans on twitter @666SATAN!666, where fans were asked? What kind of match stipulations would you like to see more involved with Soldier's match this week against some Good Charlotte fangirl named Alexis Riot. We gave our fans a lot of unique and interesting choices, as you can see from one of the polling ballots above, so that I could have a more fan infused customized Xtreme Championship experience. Well, all the comments on twitter made it pretty clear that my fans want to see more of me, and I mean a lot more of me. I was once upon a time a long time ago, dubbed the sexiest man to ever set foot in the XWF, so it's not shocking to hear that they want to see me in something a little bit more revealing. The stipulation for my match with Alexis Riot will be a.....

'Bra and Panties Body Cavity Burying Match!'

The winner will be the wrestler that not only strips his or her opponent down to their bra and panties, but then in turn, has to shove all those items of clothing up one of their opponents body cavities. Which should definitely give me a huge advantage since I don't have an enormous gaping vagina like I'm sure the tomboy skater girl Alexis 'looking for the male attention her father never gave to her' Riot does! We nicknamed Hillary Clinton's vagina the 'Grand Canyon', but I got a feeling that after I'm done taking care of business on Warfare this Wednesday Night, that they'll be calling Alexis Riot's pussy the 'Mariana Trench!' This should also give me a great opportunity to break out that see through thong that Greggo just bought me the other day!"

The Xtreme Champion finishes this sentence, and then we finally sink down beneath the wet sand and the scene fades out of sight.