Stopping By The Woods on a Snowy Evening



Whose woods these are I think I know.   
His house is in the village though;   
He will not see me stopping here   
To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   
To stop without a farmhouse near   
Between the woods and frozen lake   
The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   
To ask if there is some mistake.   
The only other sound’s the sweep   
Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   
But I have promises to keep,   
And miles to go before I sleep,   
And miles to go before I sleep.

Funny word isn’t it? It means so many things. It can be used as a noun, an adjective, a verb, hell you can use it in almost any context. It is a word synonymous with winter, as is the word snow. But what happens when snow has no chill?

What happens when Snow, something so beautiful and pristine, becomes nothing but an annoyance? A fly that needs to be swatted off the wall. A spider that needed to be doused in aerosol. So apparently “Vincent’s” new idea was to throw Snow, an opening card fighter, into a match with the best professional wrestler on planet earth and add a stipulation that she can get a title shot if she wins. Pssssht. I guess you have to give people hope in this world, right? And what happens WHEN she loses? She has to become Jenny Myst’s personal assistant for a month. And Jenny could be a real bitch. A needy, overbearing, materialistic bitch.

Oh goody, this was going to be fun.

This wouldn’t be the first person not qualified to wash Chris Chaos’s wrestling tights stepping into the ring with him and getting humiliated. Hell, he had almost made a career out of it. How many mid-card nobodies had he put on the shelf? Ginger, Promo Sins, Jervis, Kurt Angle, Bret Hart, Hunter Payne….the list goes on. Snow would make a nice trophy so round out the list. A nice mantle piece. And a good servant for Jenny. Because it was going to happen. There were no ifs, ands or buts about it. Snow could enlist the services of every trailer park in the United States of ‘Merica, and she was not defeating Chris Chaos. He would be 18-3-2. And Snow would be the personal whipping boy for whatever Jenny wanted. Or whipping girl. Whatever the hell she truly was---hey, you never know nowadays.

So, exactly where does this little trouser stain live? That was a good question. Good thing Chris had an off-road package on his Jeep Wrangler. The muddy roads leading into the trailer park would have stuck most vehicles, stopped them right in their tracks.

But Chris refused to be stopped. Ever. No matter where he was going. He could be climbing Everest and he would refuse not to make it to the top. Pain is weakness leaving the body---we only die because we accept it as an inevitability. If you felt immortal, you were immortal. And between those ropes, Chris Chaos was immortal.

The 18 inch All-Terrain tires crunched and rolled through the unkempt streets leading into North Baird Mobile Home Community Park. Wisconsin is generally looked at at a nice place to live. They have cheap gas, good beer, good cheese, and friendly people. Sure, the cities in Wisconsin are okay. Up in the sticks, it is just as white-trash as anywhere else. The average income of Green Bay, Wisconsin, is $28,015. That is about $1,548 lower than the state average. Hell, Chris’s Jeep was $34,200 and that was the base model. His Jeep costs more than one of these human sewer trolls made in one year. One whole fucking year. Pathetic.

“So why exactly are we here?” Jenny says from the passenger seat, rubbing her hands together as the sleeves of her designer bubble coat made a swoosh sound.

“Because, Jenny, in order to truly understand these people and how they are wired you need to interact with them. You are going to have one of these ‘things’ following you around for a month. You need to know how they work.”

The first house--if you can even call it that--was decrepit. Old, run down, with a porch that was falling off. Christmas lights that looked like they were on all year round.

She nodded, her lips chapped and her breath leaking from her mouth like fresh steam from a tea kettle. “I just wish it wasn’t so effing cold.” Chris and Jenny drove past the deflated Christmas ornaments on the lawn, which were probably also there all year, and rolled up in front of the paint chipped garage. Even the windows were paint chipped. How was that even possible?

Only in Green Bay.

Walking up the pot hole filled driveway, they finally got to the rickety front porch. There was a tattered Green Bay Packers flag hanging off the plant-pot holders. Fuck the Packers.

The door bell was sunken in, which made it hard to ring. It finally did, and seemingly the entire “house” creaked. What sounded like footsteps made their way to the door. There was coughing from inside.

After what felt like an eternity, a man in a wife beater (mind you, it is 5 degrees outside), answered the door. He had a cigarette in his mouth and a can of PBR in his hand. Walking by him, behind him, and across the view of the door had to be a girl no older than 17. She was visibly pregnant and also smoking a cigarette. Chris noticed she had walked over to a rickety baby carriage and instantly Chris assumed it was this mans child (or children, if you count the monstrosity festering in this young girls womb at the moment).

“Whatcha doin der?” He said, the cigarette bouncing up and down as he spoke. “How’ cans I be of help to yah?”

Chris shuttered. He realized at that moment that he wasn’t exactly from “high society” growing up but jesus christ even growing up in the Redneck Riviera nobody spoke like this man. “Umm, yeah, we are here to ask you a question. We are doing a survey on something and asking all the inhabitants of this here park. Can I ask you for your input?”

The man looked at Chris like he had two heads. Chris looked at Jenny and then back at the man. He motioned for Jenny to open the bag she was holding. Inside it was the Universal Title. The man’s eye’s lit up like roman candles.

“I assume your silence is a yes, so let me ask you. If I told you that you could have a shot to have this. If I told you that you could have a shot to be the sole owner of this here piece of gorgeous metal, BUT, in order to do so you have to fight the best professional fighter in the world, would you do it?”

The man looked at the gold in front of him, then flicked his cigarette somewhere oh the lawn. A new decoration. Somehow, it classed the place up.

“That you?” he asked, pointing to Chris

[b]“That would be me.”
[/b]
He downed his beer and crushed the can, also tossing it out on the yard. He stepped forward and set his hands in a fighting position. “But but but but but, good sir, there is a catch. You see, if you lose, you have to be this pretty little lady’s personal servant for a month. Let me tell you, she is a needy one. Hell she will have you doing everything from walking her dog to changing her tampons. Would you still be down?”

The man then shocked Chris, hitting him in the face and sending the champion falling back into the snowy yard. Chris got up quick but the man was on him quick. “I don’t never turn down a fight. Come on, ima take that shiny piece of metal from yah!”

The pregnant teen daughter and his black eyed wife were now standing in the door way. Chris got back up and immediately hooked the man around the neck. He fired a few shots to the man, while locking in the head lock, but the man shoved him back. Chris clothes-lined the man into the snow. Picking him back up quickly he walked him over to his car, bouncing face off it, before grabbing him and throwing him through his front door. Entering this filthy hovel Chris was a bull seeing red. H grabbed the man and threw him into his cabinets, rattling them, before grabbing the stumbling man and lifting him over his shoulders. He plants him with the EQUALIZER through his own kitchen table.

Dusting off his shirt, Chris calmly walked out of the house. The baby was crying, and the wife was screaming, yelling get out, and the daughter was cowering in a corner. He walked out and motioned to Jenny to follow him. Getting into the Jeep, he put it in drive and they rolled out, crunching along the way.

“We didn’t stay very long.”

“We didn’t need to. That asshole proved to me that you can select any of these creatures and offer them a shiny object that will validate their existence, and they will do anything to prove they are worth more than a six pack of cheap beer.”

“So do you think Snow will make a good assistant?”

Chris flipped the channel to the metal station and nodded, grinning. “I think that Snow will be the best personal aid you’ve had…….”

“She’d be the only.”

“Bullshit. You were born with a butler.”
[b][/b]
“Yeah, you are right”

“When you are on the top, everyone wants a chance to be in your life. Snow just picked the wrong top dog to target”.



“Snow……..poor little illeterate, mobile home living Snow. I almost feel bad accepting this match. With everything I have going on with these ungrateful superstars on Warfare, all of which think they, for some reason, deserve a shot at the richest prize in the business---I haven’t had time to focus my attention on you. I will admit this, and it is hard for me to do. You entertained me on Savage in your match against Jayden Thunder. The redneck Santa was the fucking man. The easy girls, the pick-up truck, the dip spit and little debbie crumbs……..hell I couldn’t have written it better myself. BUT, Snow, as you meandered around the lower levels of the ranking system here and winning belts that don’t matter, I was ascending to level of GOD.

What makes you think you of all people deserve a shot? What makes you think you deserve to even be on the same show card as me? I’ll tell you what….false pride. You people think you can do it all suffer the consequences after the fact. This is going to be the same way. You are not going to like the result, but at Savage you ARE going to lose to me. You ARE going to get your ass beat pillar to post, and you WILL be Jenny’s personal servant bitch. You see….I am going to make you suffer. I am going to make you wish you were never born---then for the next 30 days I am going to make you wish Jenny Myst was never born.

I already have it planned out. You are going to go get the UNI title for me from outside the ring, hand it to Jenny, who then will hand it to me. You then will carry her bags out of the arena and too the car, and drive us to a restaurant to get some grub. Then, you will order us room service, and pay for it, as we do nothing but throw it on the floor and laugh as we make you clean it up………

…….your job depends on it. It will be written into your contract. Oh what a good start to the year it is going to be. What a good way to kick off 2017 with a bang.

Run. Snow. Don’t even show up. Watch the Packer game instead. At least that will be a more interesting event than watching me eviscerate your very soul and rip it from your body before stomping on it over and over and over and over……………

…...get your rest, Snow, You are going to need it.



XWF Record: 18-3-2 XWF Universal Champion. (1x-Current).