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"The Wolf of Afghanistan" Joshua Schuler · (06-20-2017)

"Steve Sayors is a Motherfucker"

High Stakes II has just come to its conclusion, Doctor Louis D'Ville, and James Raven winning the Deuces Wild Battle Royale. Giving them both the opportunity to meet the other in the ring one on one for the number one contender's spot to the XWF Universal Championship, which Jim Caedus successfully retained. James Raven beat Doc to claim the number one ranking position for the ultimate prize XWF has to offer if you are into those kinds of things. You know recognition, bragging rights, and pretty shiny objects that dictate that the beholder is one bad motherfucker. Kind of like our fucking theme song by Biting Elbows. My legs, back, and basically my whole body is throbbing from sore stiffness. My left foot replaces my right and my right replaces my left as I weakly yet briskly walk down the halls of the Four King's Coliseum in the Sin City. With a silver standard size briefcase holding my twenty-five thousand dollars in cold hard American cash I had won from my ladder match earlier on in the night. Even though I had accidentally eliminated myself from the battle and ruined my chance at becoming the number one contender a smile was still peeking through my barbaric chin shield made of man fur.

Passing a few of the female gendered superstars of the XWF while heading toward the parking garage to pick up my El Camino and begin driving to meet up with Robbie "Motherfucken" Bourbon. Yeah, that is right Warboun is alive! Just teasing we aren't like Bradgelina, fuck people, just two simple man-children known to the Universe as The Motherfuckers! Which happens to be the exact reason for me needing to meet up with my newly formed tag partner to discuss The Motherfuckers personal agenda. To bad that Motherfucker could be anywhere in Nevada by now since our young and dumb X-Treme champ and not so friendly Thaddeus Duke dumped him out of his plane. At least he was friendly enough to have made sure he had a parachute before dropping him like a good ole Robbie Bomb. My grasp on my briefcase tightens as I pass a small group of some of the shadier and not so good doers of the XWF. The same type of characters that The Motherfuckers will soon be disposing of, like last week's leftovers.

Just as I step foot in the parking garage and feel I am home free home to begin looking for Robbie, so we can begin our fuckery in the sin city. Steve Sayors comes running up from behind looking as if he just snorted four lines of Draino cut blow. His footsteps are heavy and the congested breathing of the heavier set cameraman could be heard from one side of the arena to the other. Slowly with no smile anymore I turn around piercing into Steve's soul, halting him in his tracks. Then I chuckle as the stench of fear fills the air from the pores of Sayors’ sweat-soaked suit.

"Steve my man why such the long face? You look like someone just stole your corndog and shit in your frosted flakes. Seriously bro, loosen the fuck up, no more will you have to cower in fear, The Motherfuckers are here! Fucken right we are going to flip this company upside down and shake it like we got it from our mommas! Now, what the fuck can I do you for?"

Steve Sayors: "Sorry Bearded War Pig I was just in a rush to catch up to you, I didn't realize you knew I was tailing. Usually, when I get that look from the superstars around here, it is met with a stiff one to the face or something violent. Anyways I was hoping to catch you before you left the arena for a quick little interview?"

"Well fucksticks and shithole bricks! Honestly, I am kind of in a fucking hurry you see I need to find my newest best bud Robbie "Fucken" Bourbon you know the man that can close down a Sonic in one sitting. The man of the fucking people and one class act in my book, who understands what it means to love America with his heart, soul, and tummy! Oh, who the fuck am I kidding, fire away, Bourbon would never want me to turn away the people and you are here for the people."

Steve Sayors: "Oh thank you so much War Pig, this really means a lot, because if you would have said no then I would have to of dealt with some asshole most likely and well I need a pleasant interview. It has been a long, long time."

"Woah! First off only my friends can call me War Pig, to you, it is Bearded War Pig Master of the Poon! Secondly, no one gives a flying fuck about your un-American sex life! Real Americans fuck like jack rabbits and spread their seed all over this mother fucker! Now, look what the fuck you did Sayors, just start asking questions before I loose my shit and stomp you from white to red to blue fuckface!"

Steve Sayors: "Yes sir Bearded War Pig Master of the Poon! First of all congratulations on your victory over Steve Davids and Charon in the ladder match, I see you have your briefcase with you. So how do you feel about the outcome of the Deuces Wild Battle Royal? We all bared witness to you just destroying the competition in your ring and it was an unfortunate event that occurred causing you to be eliminated. We all hope you aren't beating yourself up especially with the newly formed team with Robbie Bourbon an XWF Legend in many viewers and associates eyes."

"Really Sayors, you think a bad ass mother fucker like myself is going to go sit in the shower with the water turned all the way cold, slitting my wrists and wasting this wonderful free life I have been blessed with? No, I am not beating myself up over the elimination of myself by myself; hell I just know next time not to use too much American Muscle if you know what I mean. Kind of like when you take foreign pussy for a ride don't fuck umm like you fuck American girls, they'll die. No losing the battle royal was probably a blessing in disguise right now I am all about the team, The Motherfuckers, and a Universal Title run would for sure get in the way of being the best partner a legend could ask for. Plus the people deserve a team made up of two American Heroes. Just know that it doesn't mean I won't eventually be stepping on those stones though, the time just isn't right for that path."

Steve Sayors: So we won’t be seeing Bearded War Pig gunning for the Universal Championship anytime soon?”

“Doubtful motherfucker! What do I not speak well enough English for you? Let me apologize for not attending school enough, it was really fucking selfish of me to skip school to train with my recruiter to become the best Marine I could. You know the bad Asses who tuck America under the blanket of freedom! Now if we could get this moving, I really need to get out of here and find my buddy.”

Steve Sayors: “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, and I can understand your English clearly. Please forgive me sometimes I say stupid things? So what you are saying is that the XWF universe can expect The Motherfuckers gunning for the tag team belts?”

“Are you fucking joking? Of course, we are fucking going to take the tag straps, they belong in the hands of the People’s Team! It may not be our number one concern but I promise everyone out there it will occur, sooner than fuckin later. It doesn’t matter if The Kings or Ax3 win the unification match of the trios and tag straps. No team here in the XWF right now will be able to stop The Motherfuckers from spreading fuckery and giving the people what they want! Seriously though this is starting to become a snore fest, why don’t you ask one more question? Then I can get on with finding Robbie, first, he had to deal with a “sex bug” and now he has to deal with a preadolescent dropping him from an aircraft. Leaving him alone in Sin City, without his Partner in Crime, knowing that goofy son of a bitch all kinds of shenanigans have occurred!”

Steve Sayors: “Fine, okay, one last question and then you can be on your way. Even though Mr. Bourbon surely can handle himself. So how do you feel about your first match scheduled as a team against Bx3 Bilbo and Josh Reno?”

“You’re fucking with me, right? There is no fucking way management is putting The Motherfuckers in a match against Bx3! Must be the work of a tyrannical suit, they don’t want us in the spotlight, they know it would be bad for their business, trying to dominate the XWF. Well, whoever wants to be properly fucked by The Motherfuckers can step right up and take a fucking number! We don’t mind bashing skulls and bustin ass all the way to the top, even if it is an insult to our abilities. Really Bx3? Those fucking ass clowns wouldn’t be able to fight their way out of a bag of dicks, let alone even cause Robbie and me to break a sweat. For fuck’s sake, I’ve taken shits that will be more of a struggle than facing off against those daisy sniffin fuck stains!

Management really is slapping one of the greatest teams to ever walk the halls in the XWF, no we haven’t done a damn thing yet together. Besides, realizing we both are fans of the people and we both bring unique traits and skills to the table. Combined would make for one hell of a tag team. So we may not have proved ourselves as a team yet. Our singles and tag team records should have been enough to skip the bottom of the barrel at least. Any other team would have been alright, but fucking Bx3? They are shit ripping off vomit. Seriously though if Ax3 was the equivalent to a cream pie in a porn stars ass, then Bx3 is a cream pie in a crack whores ass. Honestly though Sayors you should look for a different job, you’re fucking irrelevant and basic as fuck bro! Now get the fuck out of my way, I need to find Robbie “Mother Fuckin” Bourbon!”

Shaking my head at the pathetic fucker I flick him in the nose, he gives me a sour look and then I childishly kick him in his shin before sticking my tongue out and making fart noises while executing my version of the “suck it” body gesture. Before I turn my back sprinting toward my El Camino. The scene ends with myself drifting out of the arena garage hitting the streets of Sin City on the lookout for the Robbster leaving a trail of smoke from burning rubber...

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