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Unknown Soldier · (10-11-2016)

There he was a just a walkin' down the street a singin' doo a ditty ditty dum ditty doo. Who's that man ? Oh it's your one and only SATAN! loving pal Unknown Soldier, that's who! Skipping along, waving a black towel slightly smeared with white semen around in the air. Getting practice for when he has to be in Ghost Tank's corner for his Hart title match on Warfare before his big Unification title match against War Pig. Slinging the towel high up in the air and just waving it around like some crazy Pittsburgh Steelers fan. Honestly, this semen stained black atrocity that Soldier is waving in the air would probably give a way better definition to the phrase "Terrible Towel" then whatever the Steelers fans are saying. You see, he's been using the semen that he's collected from skull fucking the decapitated heads of his 666 cousins and wiping it on this black towel. Hoping that by the time he gets to Warfare that he can make it completely white so that it can be used in Ghost Tank's 'throw in the towel' match.

Anyways, we digress as the happy-go-lucky XWF superstar Xtreme Champion himself seems to be in high spirits as he skips along the sidewalk and why shouldn't he be? I mean, let's be honest, for the past few days he's had the jump on Bearded War Pig who has actually gone speechless. Where the hell did the pig disappear to? Busy shaving his beard or something? But none the less Soldier knows he made that ak-47 wielding marine douche bag feel like a bitch, and thus why he hasn't shown his face for many, many days.

That's what's got him in such an uppity mood. He loves embarrassing rookie fools who think they even have a relative chance of standing toe to toe with the greatest Xtreme Champion of all time in the ring. He did it to Luca when that fool was a rising up and comer, and now he'll do it to War Pig. He comes across a straw house on the side of the road. The mail box on the front reads 'O'donnell'. This immediately intrigues him, as he was growing quite hungry from skull fucking so many of his cousins heads, and he knows that a very large chunk of meat must exist in a house with the name 'O'donnell' on it.

He approaches the straw hut and knocks on the front door, to which he receives a reply. As you probably already guessed the woman or alien or whatever the hell thing Rosie O'Donnell is, peaked through the small door hole to see who was knocking at her door. She's probably gained at least 200 pounds since you last saw her, and that goes for everyone at no matter when the last time it was that you saw her. Wheter it be ten years ago, two days ago, irregardless of time since you last saw her, that bitch has still gained 200 pounds. Donald Trump himself couldn't even insult her to a point of how fat, pathetic, and disgusting she looks right now.

Unknown Soldier: "Little pig, little pig, LET ME IN!"

Rosie O'Donnell: "Not by the hair of my chinny, chin, chin!"

Unknown Soldier: "Bitch, you weren't even good in 'A League of their Own'!"

Soldier huffs and he puffs and he blows the house down and then goes to town eating that fat bitch in a very grotesque blood bath orgy murder scene type manner. It's absolutely horrific and barely able to be witnessed by anyone without turning their head and vomiting. It also takes a very, very long time as you can obviously assume by the mere size of the massive Rosie O'Donnell. He removes her head from the body and skull fucks her just the same as his 666 Norwegian cousins. Wipes his semen on the towel, and then goes off skipping down the side walk again. Leaving a very large mess behind him.

As he strolls a bit further down the street he comes across another house. This house is made of sticks. The mail box outside the front lawn of this home reads 'Moore' on it. So we then can only assume that it belongs to that left wing crybaby fat

Michael Moore who must be inside. Probably listening to his Bowling for Soup albums. Soldier approaches the door and gives it a knock knock. Michael Moore can't even get out of his reclining chair without lathering his ass in butter. He keeps a stick of butter next to his seat along with that 'I can't believe it's not butter' spray stuff that tastes like absolute ass. But is ironically great for lubricating fat fucks out of tight situations. After sliding his massive butt cheeks out from the padding beneath him. That poor, poor chair that was beneath his mammoth sized ass cheeks. The fat bearded fool with a dusty old baseball cap and glasses with enormous lenses walks up to his front door to answer it. You ain't Stephen Spielberg,

, so you really shouldn't be trying to mimic his look.

Unknown Soldier: "Little pig, little pig, LET ME IN!"

Michael Moore: "Not by the hair of my chinny, chin, chin!"

As you know is the story, Soldier huffs and he puffs and he blows that house down to smitherines! Then he ravages Michael Moore shoving his dick all the way through his skull. Not just fucking it but shoving it completely out the back of his fucking head! Blood and guts fly everywhere as Unknown Soldier digs in like watching lions feast on the National Geographic Channel. He wipes his dick on the rag after ejaculating and then runs off to the next street. Waving the tattered piece of cloth high above his head madly like some kind of blood orgy rape fueled demon child.

He gets to the next home, but this one is a bit different. It's much more sturdy and made of bricks. The mail box on the front of this house reads. 'War Pig'. Soldier defecates in the front lawn and then approaches the front door and gives it a ratt a tatt tat, knock knock, bang bang. He not only knocks but starts pounding on the door with his fists and legs this time. No answer. Soldier walks up to the door and leans in and begins to speak.

Unknown Soldier:

"Well would you look at that folks. It looks like I just shut that tough guy marine up in one fail swoooooop of my suave speeches. But it was really just more like the flick of my wrist. You see my jibber jabber, trash talk, smack slams is able to put marines in shambles and lose their ability to respond, and rather sit there and stand in a pile of their own piss! I mean, this guy has clearly shit himself and walked away with his hands up in the air? Where the hell have you been War Pig? This guy takes a few hits of acid and then we don't see him for a few days? Fucks up with that people? That's not an Xtreme Champion folks if you ask me. I, on the other hand, have been out here smoking crystal methamphetamine for nearly six hundred and sixty six months straight. Cutting promos all jacked up on speed non stop. NOW THAT my friends, is a fucking Xtreme Champion if you ask me! You might as well just have your friend Smut just show up and give me the Intercontinental Championship while your in the back recovering from your acid hang over tomorrow night on Warfare, Bitch!

Because just like I said earlier about your pathetic loss to Hunter Payne was 'no big deal' then you had to come out here last Saturday night and show us what a magnificent Xtreme Champion you would be by simply laying down and dying in that match against Kitt Kennedy. Proving even more of what I said about you not being worthy to hold this title correct. Yeah, a real fine Xtreme Champion you'd be. Considering that you would have already lost the belt twice in the time since our match was booked. You really said it straight there, you fucking douche bag loser.

'The fact of the matter is that you are nothing but a little bit better than Robbie Bourbon, and you know where that fucking leaves you, huh War Pig? Miles upon miles upon miles behind the likes of me! This Warfare you'll get a good bitch slapping and taught a lesson on what it's like to be facing the top of the mountain. Mount Soldier, the massive tower of greatness that you'll never climb. The place where our Universal Champion does nothing but cower at the mere sight of me. An XWF double champion that is appearing in almost every main event on Warfare since the day I walked back in this door. You'll find me in Doc D'ville promos, Robbie Broubon promos, and even in the corner waving the flag for Ghost Tank on Warfare this Wednesday night. I'm the fucking main event and biggest deal in the XWF right now and I always have been since the day my inception into XWF. Soldier is literally almost EVERYWHERE! Where can you find War Pig? I ask you where people!

Oh, I'll tell you. The little bitch is curled up naked in the corner coughing up his own saliva lost in an acid trance. Dropping down dead and losing matches to the likes of Hunter Payne and Kitt Kennedy. I'm going to stand in front of my home crowd of Oslo and desecrate this fat little war pig. Just as I mutilated and destroyed the bodies of my 666 cousins, Rosie O'Donnell, and Michael Moore! If the entire XWF universe thinks that the kind of shenanigans and nonsense I'm going to pull earlier in the night by the things I'm going to be doing with this towel in Ghost Tank's Hart title match is going to be bad. I can promise to all the Soldier loving fans in my hometown of Norway and around the world, that the way I'm going to embarrass War Pig later in the night, is going to be much, much worse!"

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