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Chris Chaos · (10-14-2016)

The terminal for American Airlines Flight 1978 was busy with families and friends awaiting the arrival of the ones they cared about. Tampa Airport had some comfortable terminal waiting areas, one of the best in the country, and many people would get there hours in advance and watch multiple planes unload just to sit in the luxury provided.

Chris limped up the terminal and into the airport. A bandage on his face above his right eye and his leg in a walking boot, he gingerly made his way to baggage claim. How good it was to have signs in English. How good it was to be back in AMERICA.

Grabbing his bag, and wincing as he lifted it up, he made his way towards the electronic doors leading outside to the curbside pick up. About 100 yards from the door, he saw a man standing there. An older man, standing with a hot young blonde, holding a sign. When he got within 50 yards he saw the sign said “MR. CHAOS”. It was Bruce, and Jenny—his welcoming committee. At 20 yards they walked towards him, big smiles, and yelling their congratulations.

“CHAAAAAAMMMP!” said Bruce, giving Chris a handshake into a big hug. This caused Chris to wince, and hiss a little, but he knew it was all in good intent. “You did it my man! I knew you would! Goddamn though, I am getting too old for this! My blood pressure sky rocketed during that match!”

Jenny put her hand on Chris’s chest, rubbing it and licking her lips. “I thought you were amazing over there. I wanted to badly to be there, but I know you needed to do it on your own. What do you say we go back and celebrate?”

Chris wincing again, every step was agony. He thought his match with Dillinger had a bad aftermath, this was 10 times worse. “You guys didn’t see what happened after the match, in Vinnie’s office, did you?”

They both shook their heads as they made their way to Chris’s Jeep Wrangler that was parked outside. Bruce unloaded Chris’s bags for him. Jenny called shotgun. Good, maybe now he could sneak a peak at those panties.

“What happened guys,” he began as he jumped into the drivers seat and put the car in gear, “is that Benito Angelo got in my face. He began to tell me about how I haven’t won a belt here and I am 0-2 in chances to. BENITO FUCKING ANGELO. So, I used my superior linguistic skills to trick Benito into a little stipulation. You see, IF he loses, I get to drop his precious little belt into a flaming trashcan and it gets vacated for one month. That is right. Benito CANNOT win that belt again for one month. I don’t want it, why would I, but I don’t want his grease monkey ass to have it either. So then, he opens his big stupid Italian mouth and offers himself to leave for one month. He will be GONE from XWF for 1 month. I mean, is he insane? All I wanted to was knock him down a peg, but he basically just suspended himself!”

Bruce laughs, patting Chris on the shoulder from the back seat, “that is why you are the man!” He said, “always a step ahead!”

Jenny laughed, shaking her head at the sheer genius of it, and how stupid Benito was.

“That is what happens when you piss me off,” he said. “But apparently I am being rewarded. Do you guys remember that card they handed me? Apparently, if I don’t lose until December, I get my shot at the Universal Title. All I have to do is keep kicking ass. And with this match this week, and that match I got on Warfare next week, it is clear SOMEONE is doing me favors around here.”

He turns the radio up. Metal, of course.

“So now, I have to focus on Benito Angelo and Shaker Jones. I mean, this reminds me of Ted and Dave or whatever their names were. I mean, am I supposed to be intimidated by these lunatics? They are the bottom of the barrel here. I guess when you are on top, though, everyone wants a shot at the king.”

As they sped onto I78 towards Tampa, they all nodded their head in agreement. When you were on top, everyone wanted a piece. He had a chance to take care of a thorn in his side this week. He wouldn’t let this opportunity go to waste.

(-)(-)(-)

The streets of New Orleans were bustling. Bourbon Street in the French Quarter was a well known party destination. A fancy white limo pulled up outside a popular night club here, known as Saints and Sinners. Perfect name, really. Maybe they would hit the Temptations Strip Club after, but for now, Saint’s and Sinner’s would do the trick.

The Limo Doors opened and a white tuxedo pant leg and patent leather shoe could be seen. An older gentleman stepped out, followed by what looked to be Chris Chaos wearing a black Elvis wig. The other man was clearly Bruce. He, too, had a black wig on. The two fixed their collars and entered the club. The entire club was illuminated with a red hue, so fitting. Chris slid his sun glasses off and handed them to the man at the coat room door, “Take Care-a of-a these-a” he said in a fake Italian accent, “they-a very expensive-a”. The man gave him a weird look before nodding and putting the glasses in the back room.

Walking, still with a bit of a gimp with his war with Doc, over to a booth he slid in followed by Bruce. This place was known for having some of the most expensive food in New Orleans. He didn’t care. He deserved a good meal. He just beat Doc, for god sakes.

A waiter quickly came over, as well as a few well dressed young females. They came and sat in the booth too. They are aggressive down here, huh? Shit, in Florida you have to work for pussy! The girls slid closer, introducing themselves as Tammy and Kayla.

“Alo” Chris said in a cheesy accent, “Muh name is Benito An-gel-o, feel me, and this here is Ezio. He’s old, but his junk still work, ya feel me!” He sort of snorted when he laughed.

Kayla, who rubbed up on Chris, put her hand on his upper inner thigh. “Bay bay, whoa whoa, hold up now! Chu tryna make a bay bay, eyyyy? Lemme just tell ya something right now, bay bay….”

Just as hie was finishing his sentence, the food came. Lots of it. Pork Belly, Cajun Catfish, Bacon Wrapped Filet, Charbroiled Lake Trout. Shrimp. Grits. You name it. And champagne. Lots and lots of champagne. Taking a large and obnoxious bite out of the pork belly, and chewing rather loudly, he finished his sentence...spitting a little bit on the young brunette.

“Bay bay, ya see…..we here in the mob. Ya feel me? I am in a company called XWF, right, and I ain’t neva been pinned or nuttin! Neva made to submit bay bay. I’m the man! And check dis out. I get a match with some moolinyan known as Shaker Jones, see, and this guy Chris Chaos, right? Dis mudder effer ain’t never won a belt here, right? I am tha HeavyMetalWeight champion, bay bay! I got a match dis week, right, and If I win, I get more free stuff I don’t deserve, feel me! But If I lose, right, I gotta leave da company for a month, right, and my belt goes bye bye, right. Ain’t that crazy bay bay?! But I am probably not gonna win, right. Chris Chaos is a tough character, see. But ima try with all my Italian might!”

Kayla grinned. “Yeah, all that is great, you are a big star. My question is, what else is big?” She squeezed down on his inner thigh.

“AY! Bay bay…..ya ask a lotta questions eh?! Let me tell yas, it is not good, see. Muh pubes, right, they look and feel like one of them things ya use to clean a grill, right?! Solid black! Right and my ding-a-ling, right, is a little nub! Like a baby fuckin carrot, feel me? Looks like a baby’s pacifier. Feel me? But I have a lotta energy, baby, I fuck like a rabbit, see! So if ya wanna get with this lil baby carrot penis of mine, honey, then you can come watch Chris Chaos beat my ass from here to Dallas and back, bay bay.” He puts in a toothpick. Kayla tells him she wants to go get a drink, and signals to her friend to get the fuck away from this table.

“Bay bay, we got the bubbly here! Come on! Ya giving me a little chubby! My zipper is blockin it but its there bay bay----okay, I see you in a few minutes. I be right here bay bay!”

3 hours later

The food was gone, and almost all the champagne. Chris got up to use the bathroom, and happened to see Kayla in her short black dress standing by the bar. He walked up to her, squeezing her ass. She turned around and saw Chris, still in his black wig.

“What the FUCK is your problem?! You don’t know how to take a hint?!”

Chris smiled, pulling a ticket out of his pocket. Pulling off the wig and letting his blonde locks fall, he handed the ticket to the girl. “And the Oscar goes to…..”

She giggled.

“Come see me at Smoothie King when I beat that Italian prick worse than his mamma used to! And….if you want, I’m at the Marriott Downtown.”

“Do you really have a baby carrot?” She said with a smile.

“More like a cucumber. You are welcomed to find out. Room 701.”

She smiled, walking away. Chris put the wig back on. He was going to have some more Italian fun!

(-)(-)(-)(-)

“Benito….I don’t know if you are stupid, or just have balls bigger than brains. Do you honestly know what you signed up for? I was just trying to get my just due here in XWF and you had to stick your nose into it. I was going to beat you anyway, now you just made it worse for yourself. You just had to get up in my face. So now, I have to hurt you. I have to take you down a peg. You have violated rule number 1 of Chaos Theory…..and that rule is, Don’t Piss Me Off.”

“You see, Benito, I have seen what you have accomplished here. You have went for the HeavyMetalWeight Title and you hold it with pride. You have “never been pinned or made to submit” which is BS, by the way. But regardless of that. You flaunt records around, boasting about a little 4-2 record. You flaunt your JV title around like you just won the best championship we have to offer. Your title is equivalent to a toy belt you win at a fair during one of those throwing-darts-at-balloons games. Your title is a joke. You are a joke. You already beat Shaker Jones once, so this should be a piece of cake. Honestly, I should sit back and light a stogie and let you two battle it out. Then, the last one standing, I should kick your head off your shoulders and pin you 1….2...3….”

“Your belt, your precious belt, Benito. It goes into the trash. I am going to show you that you don’t mess with the upper echelon of the XWF talent. I am a Brahma, you are an Untouchable. This is not even close. Apparently, someone is doing me a favor by making sure I don’t lose before December.

Benito…..you better cuddle with that belt tonight because Saturday will be the last time you ever see it!”

XWF RECORD: 7-2-2 [Image: lh2fJgz.jpg]

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