2017, location unknown

It's a frigid Pittsburgh morning with the temperature currently sitting at 27 degrees Fahrenheit. Micheal is seen sitting on a wooden bench surrounded by frost covered grass. For reasons that only he could explain, he is wearing a white bathrobe and slippers. His steamy breath rolls out of his mouth like a large puff of cigar smoke as he unfolds a letter and reads it to himself.

”They’ve agreed to allow me to compete at War Games…”

Where has Micheal been you ask? Nobody knows for sure. Or at least anyone that does know hasn’t been talking. Dirt sheets have speculated that Graves had some sort of falling out with the XWF. The rumors believed that it was only a matter of time before his departure from the company was officially announced. Some thought that maybe his contact was coming to an end and he didn’t plan on resigning. It’s been obvious that the aging superstar has struggled to keep up over the last year. Sure, he had moments of glory, small streaks of success, but they were all fleeting. Graves proved capable of building momentum, but unable to keep that momentum going for the long haul.

”They’ve agreed to allow us to compete, yet we’re the crazy ones?”

Oh yes, how could we forget Micheal’s other personalities. They pop of so frequently that nobody seems to bat an eyelash at them anymore. Is he a demon? A vampire? A badass? A bro dude? An evil magician? A twisted predator? The answer to that question seems to change more often than the man's wardrobe. One day he looks like a normal guy. Handsome, well dressed, kinda immature. The next, he’s decked out in white makeup, pretending to be Satan's little helper. Then the next, he puts on that damned mask, and he becomes something that is indescribable other than to say… unique... and sick.

Micheal seemingly ignores his disembodied voice and continues to read the letter. It has his partners and opponents listed on it, along with the surprise announcement that the survivors of each team will go on to battle in the main event. As exciting as that concept may be, it's actually one name on that list that catches the attention of our mentally distressed anti-hero.

”I’m teaming with D’Ville again…”

”That’ll go over good, the man hates you!”

Micheal closes his eyes tightly and nervously shakes his head.

”No, we make a good team…”

”Perhaps, but he still hates you.”

Graves eyes dart back and forth, surveying his surroundings. He isn’t looking for anything in particular, it’s just a tell. He’s nervous. He knows that his other voice is correct. Doc and him haven’t been on good terms, well maybe ever. Sure, they teamed up way back at Lethal Lottery and most would agree that they even worked well together, but that was before AX3 vs The Kings. That was before the two men stood on opposite sides of the ring and went to war. From the outside looking in, most would assume that any beef between Doctor D’Ville and Micheal Graves steamed from the two men being in different feuding factions and doing anything that they could to get one up on the other. By the end of it, of course they wouldn’t be friends.

Micheal always suspected that there was more to the story though. Micheal thinks that he impressed D’Ville the one time that they teamed together. He doesn’t know for sure. It’s not like they’ve discussed the subject, but Micheal knows that he came out of the gate with a drive and determination that is rarely seen these days, and he will swear that he earned the good doctors respect that night. Problem is, as we stated before, Micheal has been terrible has maintaining momentum over the last year. Shortly after that match he failed to defeat Chris Chaos, was eliminated from LL, and seemed to settle into a special appearance schedule where he has since half assed his way from one match to the next. The next time that Doc and Graves would stand in the ring together, Graves would be a shell of the man that Doc had teamed with prior. Doc and the Kings were looking for a challenge. As much as they talked about being the best in the business, the truth was, they desperately wanted to find someone who could stand toe to toe with them. AX3 was not up to the challenge, and Micheal Graves was largely to blame for that.

Of course, this is all speculation from the mind of a mad man. Why does Graves even care? Why does he seemingly obsess over Doctor D'Ville's opinion of him? Simple... Respect. Doctor Louis D'Ville is one of the toughest and most renowned competitors in the XWF today, a true living legend. Doc's work ethic and consistency are something that Graves has grown to admire, even when they weren't on the "same side".

”Doc knows what I can bring to the team…”

”Yeah he does, you bring an abundance of overconfidence as you rush in headlong making mistake after mistake until you finally leave yourself so exposed that it wouldn't surprise me if Drezdin ended up eliminating you.”

Graves clenches his fist in anger as he sternly replies to himself.

”Do you really think that anyone on THAT team stands a chance at eliminating me!?!”

”Realistically, probably not, so long as you don't allow Neville to get into your head again, but then again, mental focus isn't our strong suit is it? Regardless, even if you survive the first match, you'll inevitably drop the ball in the main event. It's sorta your trademark to screw the pooch when it matters, and above all else, that's what Doc knows about you. You may fool guys like Phantom Panzer and Finn Kuhn into believing that having you in the team gives them some sort of advantage, but we both know that when the chips are down, Gravy chokes.”

Graves jumps to his feet in a fit of rage and shakes his fist, arguing with his disembodied voice.

”Did I choke when I defeated Gilmour? Did I choke when I defeated Chris Chaos? Dolly Waters? Robert Main?”

”As a matter of fact, you did choke against Chaos. Or are you ignoring the Universal Title match back in February? Sure you beat him, but you did it by using tricks and deception. I'd hardly say that you're better than him.

He's right and Graves knows it. He couldn't defeat Chris Chaos on a level battlefield, he had to play mind games and confuse the former Universal Champion in order to gain the upper hand, and ultimately victory in their second meeting.

Main was hampered by a lame duck partner.

He nearly defeated Graves and Gilmour single-handedly...

Dolly was a mentally broken mess by the time the two of you met in the ring.

Graves chased her for months, making inappropriate Harvey Weinstein like advances towards the underaged girl. Ultimately this lead to kidnap, torture, and mental scarring that seemingly still hasn't healed.

Gilmour?

Yeah, good job, you beat Gilly one on one.”

...

“How about Jim Caedus?”

“Loss.”

“Robbie Bourbon?”

“Loss.”

“Neville Sinclair?”

“Yep, that's another loss.”

“Maybe Doc and the rest of the team can carry you to victory, but make no mistake, you're the weak link. If our team loses, it's gonna be on you!”

”I'm not the weak link! I was the leader of AX3! I'm a former Xtreme Champion! I've…

”Outside time is up Mr. Graves. Time to go back to your room.”

A man dressed in light blue scrubs gently grabs Micheal by the arm and begins to lead him towards a large building that is unmistakably a hospital. Suddenly through a burst of Jolly Ranchers Phantom Panzer appears out of thin air.

”Okay fucko, I've seen enough. You are… how shall I put this? Utterly boring!”

”Excuse me, but who are you?”

Phantom Panzer quickly moves his index finger up to his lips and lets out a ”shhhh”. The orderly instantly freezes in place like a stone statue. Panzer smiles and flicks the orderly in the forehead causing him to webble and wobble before finally falling down, still frozen in the same position he was in standing.

”Now, as I was saying. You need to snap out of this funk Gravy. I didn't draft you just to listen to you argue with yourself about how much you suck. I drafted you because I expected to get the Micheal Graves that turned the XWF on its head last spring. So what do ya say, ready to cause some mischief and win it all at War Games?”

With a blank stare Micheal replies.

”He's just going to cost you guys the match. You're better off cutting your losses now.”

Panzer raises an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed with Graves response.

”You know what, I agree. This fuck nugget isn't what I drafted!”

Panzer snaps his fingers and in turn Micheal Graves bust into a bloody explosion of meat chunks that end up covering Panzer head to toe. Panzer rest his chin within his thumb and index finger and begins pacing back and forth in deep thought, aware of the fact that he is slowly floating upwards while doing so.

Suddenly a light bulb appears over Panzers head. With a sheer look of excitement he places his thumb and pinky finger to his ear mimicking a phone.

”Vinnie, can I draft a replacement partner!?!”

Inaudible screaming comes from the other end of the line. Panzer pulls his thumb away from his ear and closes his fist, which seemingly ends the call.

”Ok, that's a no go. Plan B it is!”

Sometime in 2003.

~{Steve Sayors}~ “Tonight you’re set to face Raziel in a no holds barred match, with the winner going on to face Killjoy for the XWF World title.”

~{Micheal Graves}~ “That’s right Steve, and as sure as I stand before you, I promise that Raziel isn’t going to know what hit him by the time that I’m through! You see, I’ve had my sights set on that World Title ever since I first stepped foot through that door, and I don’t care who Jonathyn Brown tries to throw in my way, nothing is going to stop me from taking that belt off of the "Clown Prince of Mediocrity" Killjoy!”

~{Steve Sayors}~ “What are your thoughts on Raziel promising that tonight will be the last time that we see Micheal Graves in an XWF ring?”

Micheal smirks and shakes his head disbelievingly.

~{Micheal Graves}~ “Are you serious right now Steve? Am I supposed to be afraid? Maybe I should just play it safe and back out of this match now, right? FUCK RAZIEL AND HIS IDLE THREATS! He can make all the promises that he wants, but at the end of the day I’m going to do what I always do, prove that I’m a force that nobody in this company is prepared to tame! Whatever Raziel throws at me, I’m going to turn it around and send it back at him ten times harder!”

Suddenly with an explosion of fruity pebbles, Phantom Panzer appears out of thin air.

”GRAVY!”

Panzer grabs Micheal, wrapping his arms around Micheal’s and giving him a big hug like he’s a long missed friend.

~{Micheal Graves}~ “What the fuck!? Somebody get Killjoy’s cousin off of me!”

Pazer releases the hug and Micheal takes a step back, readying his guard for a fight.

”I’m not Killjoys cousin, and I’m not ! It’s me, Phantom Panzer....”

Panzer stops mid sentence as he realizes something.

”Wait, that’s right… We haven’t actually met yet.”

~{Micheal Graves}~ “You don’t fucking say?”

”Okay, listen Gravy...”

Micheal quickly cuts him off.

~{Micheal Graves}~ “That’s not my name!”

~{Steve Sayors}~ “If I can interject for a moment. This is Micheal Graves. Gravy’s locker room is down that hall. ”

”Oh yeah, there’s actually another guy named Gravy back then… back now… um…. Here. Anyway, that matters not, I need you!”

~{Micheal Graves}~ “You need me for what?”

”I need you to come with me to the future and help my team defeat Peter Gilmours team!”

~{Micheal Graves}~ “Wait, who?”

”Oh my God, an XWF without Peter Gilmour? Maybe I should forget Wargames and just stay here instead…”














































”NAH!!!”

Panzer snaps his fingers and both him and 2003 era Micheal Graves vanish into a crackle of fireworks.

~{Steve Sayors}~ “Um… I’m not exactly sure what just happened, but let’s take it back to ringside!”

TO BE CONTINUED