“Well, this is awkward. I fell flat on my face at Warfare. Returning match and I flopped. I went out there and performed like Hunter Biden after one hell of a crack bender. Damn! That shit could’ve been embarrassing. Yet it wasn’t. At some point being in the business of violence, you have a slip up. Most of the time plenty when you do something long enough. Plus, the ocean cowboy lifestyle doesn’t help. Honestly, I almost missed the match all together. Too many bumps to the noggin, in the squared circle and out. Not to mention the cosmic doobieage that takes place. Medicinal of course.”

Joshua Schuler says smiling from ear to ear. Fulfilling the Ocean Cowboy role well, in a silk palm tree and M4 carbine rifle print kimono. Barefoot. Blacked out Ray Ban sunglasses, slightly bent frame. Toothpick pressed between his grinning lips. Topped with a reptilian skinned turquoise, hint of blue, light brown, and green cowboy hat. Legs crossed helping prevent his member from exposing the camera and possibly scaring millions of viewers eyes. Joshua lays on a swinging teardrop bark colored with footrest Flowerhouse chair on his back porch off his ranch style cabin home. Sliding the toothpick to the corner of his moist mouth he peers into the camera as he begins speaking again.

“Not to take away from Robbie, I mean Bobby Bourbon or Vita Valenteen. They both performed like professionals. This isn’t to take away from what they gave ya’ll last Wednesday. They are great competitors, hell one of them use to be a good buddy of mine. I just want it to be known I respect them as fellow gladiators, I recognize they both had my number in my return match. They just didn’t have me at a good time. Hats off to them still, because myself on my worse day is still no easy task.

I bring this up because like other times I let the ball out of my hands. Come tomorrow after I get my mind right, relax and recoup from my own disappointment. It’s back into the madness I go. Headfirst, starved, and ready to balance my temple. That’s the difference between losers and someone who is willing to learn. We admit failure and take responsibility. Focus on what is next and then manifest.

Leap of Faith is exactly what is next for me. In other words, Bam Miller, Money Oswald, Gary Ray Ray Nelson, Jacki O Lantern, and Xavier Lux better not think I am just going to be a walk through. Not this time around, for no on if I do so happen to lose, you’re gonna have to earn that shit. I promise it won’t be long until, I am used as the standard. If you or anyone wants a seat at the XWF table, I’ll be the one you’ll meet in the squared circle for the dance of violence. To see whether you have what it takes, in here.”

Joshua points to his heart.

“Here.”

Joshua now points to his head. Before continuing Joshua pulls his feet off the leg rest and rests them flat to the cement floor beneath him. Removing his toothpick from his mouth. His smile almost contagious shines as if he hadn’t just made a joke of himself during his in-ring return.

“No time to feel low or disappointed. Shit happens. We can’t let the hate inside; it will eat us alive. Instead, we must dive into the hate and eat it from within. If that is what must be done, then so be it. I will smoke and drink myself into a coma out here on this beautiful damn near ninety-degree day. Find my inner peace again and just enjoy that I get another chance at what I love. Being inside that ring and just hashing it out with the best the world has to offer. Not just delivering blows and maneuvers but receiving as well. It is a true test of who we are.

It’s probably the most enticing part of the gig. Anyone and their mother can attack, it takes the real tough ones to take a beating. Toughest well they can take the worst kind of beating imaginable and get up to claim victory, smile and want to repeat it all over again. Probably why I am such a hardcore junkie, well yall should know. Now I know this match isn’t hardcore, just a standard over the top battle royal. No biggie.

See if I win this battle royal, then I can claim a title shot of my choosing. Minus the Universal. Well that makes it one easy choice. Xtreme Championship and I will be united once again.

Every one of my opponents might as well train as if it was going to be a hardcore style match. I will be ready to take on all the bumps and hits. By the time you would even consider attempting to throw me over the ropes, we will all be so beat and battered, it almost wouldn’t feel worth it. Except at that very moment, that is when I will know for sure it is and always will be worth it. Every concussion, laceration, stitch, staple, and ounce of blood lost is and will always be worth it.

Being alive and living are two completely different things and well I am ready to live to my fullest. Not only inside the ring but outside as well. It’s time for a change of pace, behavior, and character. It’s time to let go and just love the thrill of living bell to bell. Arena to Arena. It is time I wrestle for the Wolf. It is once again our time. Time for the FANS! Time for the true ones to shine. Ones who eat, dream, and breathe this shit!

To all my remaining fans and hopefully some new ones, join my pack, lets feed one another, let us take the leap of faith. Have faith in The Wolf. Hunting season is approaching, and the pack is hungry. Let’s feast! Bam Miller, Money Oswald, Gary Ray Ray Nelson, Jacki O Lantern, and Xavier Lux make sure your insurance is up to date, tell your loved ones you love them, and prepare for a battle royal you have never endured before. We are going to steal the PPV, everyone to take the stage after us are going to be nervous. Not knowing how to compete with what we offered. Really can cause a panic attack.

Just embrace that I am coming with every ounce of fight I have left. I am going to fight tooth and nail until I am unable to fight no more. If need be. I just you all do the same because like I’ve said a million and twelve times, it isn’t about us. It’s about all the men, women, children, and everyone else that tunes in weekly. They deserve the best and that is exactly what I will dissect from each one of you. Fucking TRAIN! Train with the intensity of saving the person you love the most. I’m ready to toss bodies, but I won’t be tossing until I have taken you to hell and back. It’s time the standard is met.”

Joshua Schuler removes his shades and begins howling at the sky like a wolf. As the scene fades to black.
____________________________

A Flat Black up armored Humvee screams across the dessert of Helmand Province, Afghanistan. Joshua Schuler sits in the front passenger seat. His brother Zachary stands tall in the machine gun turret, his hands grasping the butterfly handles fingers off the triggers. Left side of his jaw line pressed out with some Copenhagen mint. In the Driver seat is his youngest brother Brandon, two random mercenaries in the back seats. Each man uniquely geared up with blacked out military like gear, just made better, and more applicable. True ones know military grade is a joke, nothing but an advertisement ploy. Sand sprays behind the Humvee as they travel sixty-five miles per hour in the wide open. No one insight, until suddenly they come to a small village. Joshua quickly gives a command.

“Stop! I’ll take Johnny and Seth on foot go grab some intel before we risk the rig getting ambushed.”

Looking to his brother Brandon.

“You and Zack stay here and provide overwatch and be prepared to react as a quick action force. We may need some heavy suppression. It is unclear if this village is a hostile or not, no one, not even the US military had intel about this one.”

Brandon smiles and taps his blacked out silenced .308 AR platform custom built semi auto sniper rifle.

“No problem bro, we got yalls six.”

Josh pats his brothers armored shoulder before opening his door and hopping out on to the hardened sand. Josh then gently closes the door looking back to the rear of the Humvee.

“Alright Johnny and Seth now this may just be as simple as speaking to the elder gathering some intel or we may get to see if you two knuckle heads have what it takes to be apart of our outfit. I don’t know about yall but I kind of hope it goes easy, would like to have lunch before we get into a fire fight.”

Seth and Johnny hop out the back of the Humvee silently closing their doors behind them. Joshua takes point and begins leading the patrol toward the village that is about a click and a half away (1500 meters). After he gets about ten meters away Johnny and Seth begin to follow suit about fifteen meters apart from left and right. Forming a triangle as they maneuver stealthily toward the unknown village. About half way Joshua holds up and open palmed hand (hand and arm signal to stop but not an emergency stop which would be a closed fist). Seth and Johnny take a knee their M4’s aiming opposite directions. Joshua clicks his radio to speak to Brandon in the Humvee.

“Looking a little dead for my liking, be prepared for an ambush. Over.”

Brandon grabs the CB hand set from the main radio in the Humvee.

“Roger that. I haven’t spotted a single soul through my scope. Keep that head on swivel, nothing in this country good comes when there are no children or farmers working the fields. Over.”

Joshua smiles, being a lover of violence.

“That’s for damn sure. Just make sure we don’t lose our heads bro, we are moving. Over and Out.”

Joshua then raises his arm and waves the patrol forward. All three men simultaneously rise to their feet and begin to march very aware and focused. Ready for the storm after the calm. Coming within six hundred meters their demeanor changes to super alert, they raise their firearms up to the ready position. Continuing to march forward still no sign of a anyone, not even a behemoth of a Afghan wolf hound. Closing in on 500 meters Brandon’s voice comes over Joshua’s radio.

“You have some movement toward the southwest side of the village, looks to not have any kind of weapon, just reporting movement. He’s a military aged male. Clothed heavily than normal, most likely hiding something. Be cautious, how copy?”

Josh raises his closed fist, all three men stop dead in their tracks not making a single movement. He then raises his M4 with an Acog (4x optic) attached toward the southwest of the village before responding to his brother.

“Solid Copy good eye, yeah that bastard is definitely hiding something, that bulge is way to big to be his dick. Keep your crosshairs on him and if he shows any sign of hostility spray his brains all over that shit hut. Out Copy?!”

“Roger that, out.”

Brandon rests his .308 on the open window of the drivers side Humvee cross hairs locked center mass of the Afghani’s forehead. Licking his chops just waiting for the fucker to make one hostile move.

Joshua climbs back to his feet and waves the patrol forward. After a couple steps Joshua points in the direction of the lonely Afghan for Johnny and Seth to be cautious of. Johnny and Seth both nod acknowledging they have visual. All three men now are about two hundred meters from the ghost village.

The Afghan climbs to the top of the roof of the hut he emerged from. Once in position it he begins to remove a RPG from his man dress. Before he can even raise it to his shoulder to even take aim. His head explodes, brain matter and blood splattering the rooftop. His RPG falls to the ground over the side of the roof. Others quickly realize their comrade has been taken out. A small platoon size element (20-40 military aged males) emerges from surrounding huts armed to the teeth with AK-47’s, RPG’s, and a few are even rocking US and British M4’s and M16’s. Most likely weaponry they seized from killing a whole squad or more of UN forces.

Heads begin to splatter, followed by the heavy gun. Zachary stands in the turret just holding down the butterfly triggers sending a wall of fifty caliber bullets shredding the village into swiss cheese. His laughter so loud it can almost be heard over the rapid singing of the fifty-caliber machine gun.

As friendly rounds fly over Joshua, Seth, and Johnny they begin to maneuver forward with a tactic advancement maneuver called “I’m up, he sees me, I’m down!” where one man moves the others suppress fire, quick busts of three to five second sprints before diving to the ground and beginning to lay down suppressive fire for the next man to sprint forward. They use this tactic until they reach the gated village.

Joshua slams into the wall next to the gate, with Seth and Johnny falling suit right behind him or what is known as a stack. Joshua begins to attach some C4 to the gate’s hinges. After the C4 is connected he gives his two other teammates a thumbs up. Letting them know they now need to make him aware of when they are ready to breach. Seth the last man in the stack with a M249 or SAW (Squad Automatic Weapon) squeezes Johnny’s shoulder letting him know he is ready. So, no man must take their eyes off the entrance way. Johnny unlatches a M29 fragmentation grenade from his flak jacket prepares it to be thrown before squeezing Joshua’s shoulder. Joshua then opens a switch detonator. His left arm raises five fingers up. Closing one finger after one another with at least a second delay between the next.

One…


Two…


Three…


Four….


Five…

His thumb on his right finger then presses down on the switch detonator.

BOOM!

Debris and a cloud of smoke and sand fill the air, after about seven seconds after the initial boom, the gate begins to fall forward into the compound. Just as it smashes into the ground, Johnny steps forward and tosses a live grenade into the village walls. Quickly he steps back into the middle position in the stack against the village perimeter wall.

Boom!

The fragmentation grenade explodes, about three seconds and Joshua makes his way through the opening off the walls where the gate once stood. His rifle lodge into his shoulder his eyes scanning for threats, and his finger gently rested on the trigger. After making it through the threshold, Johnny follows in suit covering an angle Joshua doesn’t have. Seth files in behind Johnny taking the last avenue of approach. Fifty caliber rounds begin to slow down, not wanting to be a cause of friendly fire. Once inside the village, Joshua and his team take up a 360 defensive position behind cover and concealment. Waiting for the dust to clear. Rounds from their friends back at the Humvee and their enemies who’s home they just kicked in whiz by over their heads. If you’ve ever been shot at then you know the distinctive sound of a crackling round.

Brandon gently squeezes the trigger of his sniper rifle one last time before grasping the radio.

“I don’t think these asshats are intimidated by the heavy machine gun fire, I’m thinking we may want to move closer just in case yall need more fire power, we are too far out for precise machine gun fire. Over, copy?”

Joshua begins to look around noticing a bunch of freshly disturbed ground all scattered throughout the town. Grabbing his radio, he clicks in the transmitter button.

“Negative, this place looks like it is laced with IEDs (Improvised Explosive devices). We can’t risk the rig getting immobilized or worse completely blown to scrap metal. It is our only way back home; we don’t have any support this mission is off the books. Hold your position unless we call for an extraction. Tell Zachary to switch to the fifty-caliber sniper rifle, precision head shots from here on out. My team and I will handle these goat fuckers just do what you can from your position. Out copy?”

“Solid Copy…”

Brandon shakes his head before passing on the orders of their team leader and older brother. Zachary a little saddened follows orders like a good soldier. Removing himself from the turret he manuevers to the back of the Humvee, opening the back hatch he removes a large sniper rifle, blacked out of course. He then quickly and urgently climbs to the top of the Humvee laying in the prone position ready to drop bodies.

To be continued…