CAEDUS REWIND: It's been revealed and built upon through several backstory vignettes that Jim has, since the summer of 1996, been a friend with benefits for one Nicole Faustino through every boyfriend and husband she'd ever been partnered with until 2012 when Jim relocated to the high desert in California (one of the worst decisions he's ever made). It's also been made reader record that Jim and Nicole enjoyed being buddies with illicit substances from weed to meth to...



"God, I can't stand Desi'. I mean, she's got a nice _box_ but-"

"Wait, what??"

I double-take from the tall, plastic, purple bong Nicole is handing me, freshly packed, to her expression of sincere irritation.

"What?"

"You said Desi' has a nice box? Desi' Sutter?" The only Desi' I know, therefore the only Desi' she could be referencing.

I flick the blue Bic and green the bowl, inhaling to the tune of an overly full bluhbluhbluhbluhb. Bong water splashes onto my lips, luckily fresh and unsullied.

"Yeah, we hooked up."


-January 2005-


I respond with the strain of holding in a hit as I hand the piece back to her.

"When'd this happen?"

She answers nonchalantly.

"Like 5 minutes ago. Right before you got here."

I cough. A spit hit-take, if you will. I wipe the bong water from my lips and taste the weed off the exhale. OG. My favorite.

"She's _here_ and you just hooked up with 'er?? My ass."

Nicole extends her right hand, unfurls her fingers beneath my nose. I sniff. Yep, that's pussy alright. I laugh as she takes her hit.

"What the fuck, you couldn't wait 5 more minutes?"

Nicole arches her right eyebrow. I love when she does that.

"It's funny you say that. She said she wanted to fuck in high school," she replies with the same hold-your-hit strained voice, handing the bong back.

"Oh reeeeally." She nods. "I'm callin' it. Threesome. Right now." I set the bong on the coffee table beside me.

Nicole reacts the right way. She always does in these situations. She smiles seductively, closes the distance between us and places her lips on mine, kissing me. She never wears perfume for some reason but her scent is still intoxicating. I kiss her back before she ambushes me and shotguns her massive hit. I inhale and my heart skips a beat over the intimacy of the gesture.

For those unaware, I fell in love with Nicole during our first tryst, hard. Over the years it's waned to bitter acceptance of the apparent fact she'll never take me on as her official significant other. At this point in time, however, I'm still very much a slave to hope. Hence, while my head swims with passion and my heart flutters, my blood flow diverts dickward. She can feel it as she presses herself against me.

I finish accepting her hit. She cups my crotch, wrapping her fingers around my growing bulge, squeezing with slight movement of the hand.

"I'm down if you are. I have just the thing for us too. Come on."

She leads me by the hand through the living room of her and her husband Trevor's rented home in the heart of Lakewood, CA, turning into the hallway and the immediate entrance to her and T's bedroom to the right. I exhale as she opens the door, enough of a plume of smoke emitting to conceal what lies within.

Well shit, let's get this party started.

TBC
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"Throttling a Thot"







-Monday July 3 2017-

-Cabrillo Beach, San Pedro, CA-


Mesmerizing.

Soothing.

Primal.

The crash of waves as the tide rolls in (carrying with them a surface layer of open ocean-borne detritus amidst mats of uprooted and/or torn tendrils of giant kelp, all topping a churning, nutritious soup of miniscule and microscopic organisms upon which the mussels, anemones and gooseneck barnacles shall feed) enables an easing of the exasperation encompassing my being, comprising my inner turmoil, in the wake of not only two back to back defeats on this past Savage but the loss of my beloved XWF Universal Championship. The hypnotizing ambiance, however, does little to remove the sting at every flash of the night's events within my mind's eye.

There would've been no avoiding defeat in the cash-in, regardless of its dubious nature. Not after facing the likes of The Doc and James Raven. As for Bruce Blingsteen himself, he'll soon experience my wrath, receive a reply in revenge...but for now...

My ill-assigned tag partner had, as I'd predicted, fed me to the bastards to further fuel a feud he himself had ignited months ago out of either jealousy or some uncontrollable homo/bisexual obsession for The Big Dick Daddy and his stable of once dominant warriors.





Chris Chaos the bitch.





Chris Chaos the fool.





Chris Chaos the




C
O
R
P
S
E



As the waters churn about the rocks on which I stand, an XWF drone operated by some unseen employee keeping tabs on The Star Killer buzzes before me. I look to the lens, dead eyed gaze monopolizing my visage...

"Well Chris, you did it. You less metaphorically and more outright blew yourself up as a dick head lobe lovin' lady, even more so than you did before High Stakes II with all that cum swallowin' talk. I "fist fucked (your) shithole all the way to (my) elbow"? Christ, Chaos, that's some hardcore homo talk; the fuck you doin' wrestlin' when you could be rakin' in the dough on webcam helpin' dudes jizz? And what lesson did you learn from our Triple Threat Iron Man Match? Didja walk away with the knowledge Thaddeus Duke is better than you? Didja limp off humbly accepting o' the fact that Caedus crushed you? Course not...unlike me, clearly still possessin' o' the power and skill I've had from the beginning, you refuse to believe your time is over with, your era extinct. I may have lost the Uni strap...TEMPORARILY...but this is still my time, my era...and unlike you I'll be takin' the title right back. Success beyond failure...the ability to not only dust yourself off but reenter the fray furiously...the will, the drive and the determination to fight back, against even death itself...these are foreign concepts in context with what you comprehend. Is it any wonder you take the shameless route ridiculin' me over my style, intelligence and vocabulary? Should I apologize for who I am just because you're less than? You know what you sound like? A jealous, tired and frustrated fuckhead yearnin' for the days he coulda spent a lil' more time on education instead o' collectin' quarters for cocksuckin' in the boys bathroom stalls. You think it hasn't come up before that I very much WAS homeless, defined by various degrees from penniless to a paid man without an actual domicile, yet I swing silver tongue like the best of 'em? Guess who brought it up the last time? Me. Pointing out how humiliating it must be for some who OTHERWISE enjoy some measure of success in life yet got outsmarted, outclassed and linguistically lambasted by a guy who used to hafta patronize trash cans for food. You're an idiot, tough break. Own it, don't hate me for my talent. Perhaps if you did, you'd never have entertained the idea that fuckin' with me and costing me matches WOULDN'T prove to be a mistake. Now look what you've gotten yourself into, an I Quit Match. An I Quit Match against JIM. CAEDUS. S'gonna be a real test to relinquish my HYB on the bell for a win...with your forcin' so many defeats onto my record via shady shit, I'm gettin' used to losin'. Why not take one more loss at the expense of chokin' you into a closed casket? Oh, I know why...I'm a winner. You ain't.

Whoever said I was the working man's champion? The savior of the common man? The fuck are you talkin' about? I'm a drug abusin', pussy hawkin', law breakin', poppa killin' piece o' shit, everyone knows that. Working man's champion? Literally I walked into the XWF homeless. What's the matter, moron? Oh right...research, education...those ain't your cup o' twat, are they? I gotta tell ya...one day people like you are gonna learn to pay attention to who Caedus is and if not, continue to pay the price. Who I am ain't no secret. It ain't like I play my backstory close to my chest, I lay it all out on my sleeve and invite you all to take a snort. But you dont; you get your asses handed to you, refuse to ask why and you COME BACK FOR MORE. The truth is, Christine, you're a and a dullard. The FURTHER truth is, I legit signed on the dotted line lookin' for revenge on humanity for what I've suffered. After that, I sought to make my lost loved ones proud. Beyond all that, Boss Lane, Ax3 and brotherhood aside, I ultimately fight for, I stand for, I CHAMPION for......ME. Period. All this bullshit you're bringin', what's it have to do with our match anyway? It didn't sink in that your little strategy o' playin' your promos like a presidential nominee smear campaign falls flat at my feet? Fuckin' imbecile. I can't WAIT to strangle the consciousness outta you in Independence, Missouri.

Don't talk to me about pressure, you've no idea what the word means. I was competing back to back weekly; Savage, Warfare, the LL tournament, the Federweight Scramble, the TV title...FUKA, Chris. Fuck You Know About pressure? The most pressured I saw you was when you were bitchin' about uploading a 7th vignette leading up to your DEFEAT to Gabe Reno. Remember that? "I never do a seventh" you said. You can't handle pressure. I can. I fought through it to snag the Universal Championship. This, what I've been dealing with, this wasn't pressure. This was a matter of the chrono. Finding a balance between the kinda scheduling I've never experienced before as a first time ever top champion inundated with the responsibilities of said in combination with a career outside the ring and dealin' with 99 problems revolvin' 'round women. And STILL, despite weeks of disappointment and dubious dealings with douchebags like you and The Kings...here I stand, stripped of MY XWF Universal Title...ready to rip you apart and reclaim what's rightfully mine soon enough. You thought I'd been cowing to pressure? Please, keep thinkin' that. Please, Christy, walk into Warfare with that point of view, lower your guard and prepare to get tapped the fuck out.

You spoke at great length comparing your Uni Title run to my own. Yes, dipshit, let's talk about me. Who the people DESIRE to discuss, not you. Don't ever waste the time of the fans and your rostermates again with a rundown o' your ass reign, no one cares and we're all glad it's over and done with. Kill yourself.

A. No one cares that I "stole" the Uni from he whom almost all hate. He was/I'll assume still IS an asshat. Let's not stop there, he's an asshole who deserved what he got, tryin' to trick me like a lil bitch, and uh, I'm not quite sure who you've been listenin' to but beyond your brilliant opinion, I've only received kudos for killin' that star, have I not? Guess what? I got the same slap on the back for beatin' YOU. And Chris...when your arm is raised and dropped for the third time, lifelessly in the grip of Hold Your Breath or perhaps a counter submission...I'll be congratulated again. No one likes you. You're all too much like that infamously infantile illegitimate motherfucker. One day, you'll make the same exit he did. I'll do my best to make that happen Wednesday night.

B. If my match with Gilly was non-title, how is it you cleverly claimed had I lost that would've been the shortest Uni reign in history? Non-title, twit. Christ almighty, peruse your own footage 'fore you release it, idiot. Also, kill yourself.

C. I truly don't give a shit what you have to say about my opponents, you're one of 'em and we're currently at 1-0 in my favor. That's what matters...though not nearly as much as how that tally'll soon be 2-0 seein' as you insist on makin' the same mistakes you made the first time around and I'll hafta fuck you up the ass again because of it. Did I mention I want you to wrap your lips around an exhaust pipe and inhale as I lay on the gas?

Hey Chris, didja catch it when you said-

"We both won that title, both had our heads in the clouds, and both had our worlds close in around use like a trash compactor."

Close around "use"?" I snort derisively. "Chalk up another in the Caedus Effect column. I do so love when I make an opponent so nervous they fuck up when they talk. You should be more cautious, Chris...bein' all talk ya gotta take more pride in your presentation. Kill yourself. We ain't nothin' alike, anus. You're a hack, a has-been, a half-asser. Me? I'm only human. I'll stumble occasionally. I'll struggle with life as I have...and I'll rise up in defiance to kick off between that bitch's legs, lodgin' a foot up 'er cooze. You'll see that in action come the I Quit Match, no worries.

What was that you said I'd say in response?

"Fuck you, you fucking faggit fuck. Fuckity fuck, asshole, cock sucker, fucking fucky fuck fuck. Big dick. Fuck."

Chris, Chris, Chriiiiiiis...you forgot:

Motherfucker
Douchebag
Dipshit
Bitch
Homo
Anus
Twat
Pussy-

Wait, did I call you pussy yet? Shut up, pussy, you're whinin' in front of the whole world that I slay you with words, how weak can you get? There we go. Pussy, check. Also, cock and sucker shouldn't have a pause between them, dumbass. Dumbass, check. FYI...pointin' out how I heckle you won't stop me from slaughtering you on Warfare.

Fuck a whiny lil' bitch. A loser. Deadman walking. I'm Jim Caedus. The Star Killer. The Big Dick Daddy. FUTURE 2 time XWF UNIVERSAL CHAMPION. You're Chaos Era tough. Chaos Era tough is Caedus Era Pussy. Learn it. Love it. Kill yourself. See you tomorrow for round 2."
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