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Cadryn Tiberius · **10-13-2017, 03:32 AM**

August 27th, 2017
The outdoor track.

My recollection fades as I round the track for another lap. I've lost count by this point. The pace of my heart rate implies that I've been going for quite sometime. I start to slow as I reach the gate, my water bottle gleaming in the morning light, sits firmly on the wooden bench. I sit down on the wooden bench and reach for my water and my cell phone. 13 voicemails, they've been there a while. Don't really see a point in checking them, don't really have the energy to delete them. So, in that voice mailbox they stay, for the remainder of the life of my Samsung smartphone.

I'm tired, I begin to think to myself. I over did it this time, I'll regret this come morning. After a few minutes of rest, I catch my breath, gather my things and head towards the exit of the track. As I exit the track and back into society, my cell phone begins to vibrate.

13 voicemails.

You'd think that in this day and age they would allow me to completely disable my mailbox, but that would be too easy. It's more enjoyable for the constant alerts to torment me like I'm some prisoner of war in a foreign land…

As time continues to pass by, a life I never expected begins to shine brighter by the day. Natalie, the love of my life rests her hopes and dreams on my shoulders. Wearily, might I add, and with good reason. I've always tried to do the right thing. Though admittedly, I purposely blur the line from time to time. I'm not great at being the monster in the shadows. I wear my heart on my sleeve and a lot of the time that seems to cost me more than it should. But at the end of the day I'M the one that has to live with the decisions I make, and I'm the one who has to be able to close my eyes at night. Your opinion of me? Null. Your justification of right or wrong? Void. My actions, my life, is lead by one man, and that one man is me. I've grown from my mistakes and continue to grow as the days go by. One thing is for certain though, forever and always, I'll always love you..

So, y'all remember that ice cream shop, secret lair, shrine of sex that is the meeting place of The Kings™? Well, if not, tough shit. Just kidding. Above a family oriented ice cream parlor sits a beautiful loft that Theo has renovated to fit our needs as a unit. Together within this facility they were able to Mastermind their plans and ideas which have inevitably led to The Kings™ being the greatest faction of all time. Hell even Petey thinks so!

Cadryn isn't a King™, but he likes to pretend anyways.

Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.

Sigh..

But, I digress.

Today we find The Kings™ sitting at a long table enjoying a lovely lunch prepared by none other than Jester™ Cadryn! Ham, mashed potatoes, biscuits and gravy, it's a real southern dinner, that's for certain. Slowly but surely, all by his lonesome, Cadryn brings out dish after dish. Let's listen in, shall we?

Are you sure you don't need any help, Cadryn?

Theo asks with a bit of sarcasm.

No, friend, I've got this!

Cadryn says with a smile on his face.

I'm almost done, anyways. No need for you to lift a finger, bff!

Cadryn sits the last dish on the table and scurries back to the kitchen.

Naive young Cadryn still believes that Theo is his best friend. Though far from the complete truth, a little truth remains. Theo has a soft spot for Cadryn, it's apparent in his less than abusive treatment of the one they call Jester™.

Suddenly the kitchen door swings open..

Did you

order some sausage?

There, on a platter, decorated with all the trimmings of an expensive meal…

Is a dick..

WHAT. THE. FUCK..

Says Theo.

Woah, friend. That's not at all what we ordered.

Exclaims the good Doctor.

Who let that stupid

in here?!

Samuels says without hesitation.

It's a gift from..

Well, from God’s Gift. I didn't have time to wrap it. Not like you fucking

could handle a cock like this anyways. Fuck ya so good you'd be screaming out your own names. You probably do that anyways though, arrogant fucks.

The King's™ are collectively baffled. Angry, mortified, and ready to strike, Theo quickly stands to his feet.

Look, asshole. You've got about 10 seconds to explain how you got in here and why your fucking dick is out and on my expensive dinnerware!

Without a word, God's Gift aka Kris “I fucked on Reno HARD” Cruze turns and walks back through the kitchen door. Exposing his naked ass to The King's™.

I like him. Can we keep him?

Maddy says with a huge smile on his face.

As the words leave his mouth, Cadryn exits the kitchen once more to join the group.

Why was everyone yelling? It's hard to concentrate on cooking perfection with everyone yelling..

Cadryn says to the group with a slightly sarcastic yet totally serious tone. Theo looks at Cadryn with a look of utter surprise.

CADRYN. DID YOU NOT SEE KRIS CRUZE IN THE KITCHEN WITH YOU?! HIS DICK WAS OUT, HOW COULD YOU MISS IT?!

Cadryn raises one eyebrow, confused by the situation.

There was no one in there, dude. I've been in there alone the entire time…

Cadryn peeks through the door to find an empty kitchen.

Nope. Nobody there, boss.

Without saying anything, Cadryn returns through the door to finish the meal he had been working on.

Well, I do believe young Cadryn may need his vision checked. There was most definitely a naked Kris Cruze in this general area just moments ago.

Theo sits back down, placing his head in his hands and elbows on the table to support the weight of his head.

Look, just figure it out. Maddy get in there and get rid of that idiot.

Maddy smiles and begins to walk toward the kitchen. About half way, he stops, unzips his pants, and begins pissing in the fake plant against the wall.

Fucking Christ, Maddy. We've seen enough dick already, put that shit away.

Samuels says, angered by the sight of another dick.

Suddenly the door swings open once more scaring Maddy, causing him to stumble backwards, sending a steady stream of urine up the wall. In the doorway, Kris Cruze. Tight jeans, cowboy boots, and a white Stetson cowboy hat, his new attire. Though still shirtless, assumably to show off his modelesque physique.

Man, I can't believe I ever wore this shit. I look like some faggoty Kevin Bacon from Tremor's wannabe. Ain't no way I'm getting a dick to suck wearing this bullshit. Maddy, you need to put that baby dick away before I suck the motherfucker clean off, ya feel me, partner?

Kris says with his most southern accent.

Fuck you, meatgazer!

Maddy says with a fierce roar.

Shit, you wish, kitten. I'd split you in two.

As Kris finishes his comment, Maddy leaps forward, looking to tackle Double G and lay down a little justice of his own. Cruze smiles from ear to ear as Maddy approaches. Just about the moment Maddy is within arm’s reach of Cruze…

POOF

And with a puff of a smoke, Kris Cruze vanishes into thin air..

Does this mean…..

It sure does, sports fans!

I can imagine anyone who is watching this is probably in the process of picking their jaw up off the floor, and that’s understandable. I’ve done a good job leaving my past in the past, but I can’t continue to live a lie. It isn’t fair to my fans, my wife, or myself, for that matter.

My name is Cadryn Thompson. I was born and raised in Morgantown, West Virginia. Most of this information is public, so I’m not really telling you anything you probably don’t already know. As you can see, however, there is at least a few things you don’t know about me. As has been discussed in the past, my father, Darren Zirado is an XWF legend. Well, sort of. Regardless, dude has been around the block a time or two, and lived to tell about it. Though, I may have forgotten to mention one minor detail…

Darren isn’t my biological father.

I was adopted when I was 2 years old by Darren and his wife Stacy. My father has always been a straight shooter, no need to sugarcoat it. He loves Jesus, the XWF, and me, apparently. That is what keeps him going when things get rough. When my mother died, he lost sight of what was important. Though, thankfully, he regained his composure, picked himself back up, and got back on track. Darren and Stacy left my last name as it was. They didn’t feel the need to change it to match theirs. I was their son, and they were my parents. I’d love to tell you this is some kind of fairy tell where I talk about my birth parents and how I reconnected with them after so many years.

It isn’t.

I don’t give a shit about them, and vice versa. If they cared in the slightest, they would have spent more time caring for me and less time caring which vein would continue to support their habit. But, I digress. So, yeah, I’m adopted. My parents loved me like their own, and I couldn’t have asked for much more than that.

I assure you, there was a reason I felt compelled to share that information with y’all first.

So now, let’s get to the good stuff, shall we?

I’m sure you’re all confused and I can’t say that I blame you. It’s a very interesting and sporadic thing, my life.

First and foremost, let me just go ahead and lay it out there. I am Kris Cruze. I am Cadryn Tiberius. How, you ask? Well, it’s actually quite simple. I’ve always been Kris Cruze. Cadryn Thompson doesn’t sound like much of a modeling name, does it? Nope, not really. It’s already hard enough for a country boy like myself to break into the business, but to have that off putting name did nothing in my favor. Now, the thing is, I had no idea that name was going to change my life forever. All those years ago, that fateful day, that long walk towards disappointment turned out to be the most incredible moment of my life. I formulated that name in my head on the way to the audition. I’m not sure if I ever mentioned that before or not, but it was a spur of the moment decision that panned out.

So ya’ll know what happened. I met Derek, he pulled me aside, and he got my foot in the door.

Now, what y’all don’t know is this.

That whole persona that I was throwing around a couple of months ago to get under the skin of men like Gabe Reno and Calypso…

It was no persona..

I’m the biggest you’ll probably ever meet, to be honest. But, call me a , and I’ll break your jaw. Naw, I’m kidding. I don’t care. Everything I said to Reno, to Calypso, it’s all true. I’m a proud homosexual that recognizes that he will never be accepted. I don’t mind, so long as you don’t mind me flaunting my faggotry in front of you every chance I get. Speaking of which, HOW DID Y’ALL NOT ALREADY KNOW?! I PRACTICALLY SPELLED IT OUT FOR YOU ON NATIONAL TELEVISION WEEK AFTER WEEK..

Anyways..

Derek Lorenzo.

My best friend, my confidante, my husband…

For the first time I’m going to tell the world something that not even my wife knows. Oh wait, I already did that..

Fuck..

She didn’t know I liked to suck cock when she went grocery shopping…

Sorry babe..

I didn’t want you to find out like this, but I feel that I may never have another chance.

We’ll talk about us later.

Probably in a court of law with divorce attorneys present.

BITCH YOU AIN’T GETTIN THE GODDAMN TRUCK OR MY DOG…

Whoops, sorry bout’ that. Little moment of weakness there..

So, Derek and I hit it off immediately. His incredible beauty, both inside and out, paled in comparison to the way he had the inane ability to brighten an entire room by flashing a quick smile.

Remember how we talked about my parents, specifically Darren Zirado? Well, with his infatuation with the church, and religion, he didn’t exactly agree with my lifestyle. He was a good sport, admittedly. He never kicked me out, he never bad mouthed me or set out to hurt me physically or mentally. We had an understanding. I didn’t talk to him about my love life, and he didn’t talk to me about religion.

Fair enough, I thought at the time.

After Mom passed, Dad and I spent a lot of time together, and he opened up and told me he loved me, regardless of who I choose to love, regardless if it would land me in a fiery pit of hell for all eternity…

Thanks dad!

He meant well, and that was enough for me.

So after a few months I convince him to have dinner with Derek and I, and even my father was overwhelmed by his charm and personable demeanor. Like I said, mom was gone, and he had nothing left. So Derek and I did our best to make him feel welcome, and we helped him when he needed us, and he helped us when we needed him.

In all honesty, my life couldn’t have been better.

In August of 2013 I asked Derek to marry me, and he said yes. I won’t bore you with the details, but we had a gorgeous wedding, and I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect moment, or a more perfect man. The next year was just as incredible as the others, I was on cloud nine, and I hadn’t planned on coming down. With Derek’s help I lost all the weight, bettered myself mentally and physically, and also excelled as a model. Oh, by the way, I haven’t always looked like the Kris Cruze y’all have come to know. Not until months ago, when the good Doctor bestowed upon me a gift. So basically, imagine a buff Kevin Bacon spending his days modeling for American Eagle, and his nights sucking the dick straight the fuck off his gorgeous husband.

I bet you look at Tremor’s in a whole new light, am I right?

But anyways..

August 2016…

I…

I apologize ahead of time, as this isn’t an easy subject to talk about.

August 17th, 2016…

A day that had began like any other. Our alarm rang out at 6 am sharp, as it did every morning. Between working out, modeling, and just trying to enjoy ourselves, we kept a very full schedule, and rarely stopped moving. That morning it had started raining just moments before we intended to leave the house. After debating it, we decided to skip the track that day, and just head to the gym instead. Derek and I took separate cars that morning, as we each had a couple of errands to run. So, as always, a long kiss goodbye, and an “I love you” accompanied us as we walked away from each other.

I managed to finish my errands in a little under an hour. I proceeded to grab a bite to eat and head to the gym, in the hopes that Derek had already made it there. I hated working out alone, even after the complete transformation, he just made everything else disappear when he was there with me.

I pull into the parking garage and begin looking around for Derek’s car.

Nope, doesn’t seem to be here yet. Oh well, not a huge deal. I adjusted my seat to allow for a little more comfort, as I was parked it didn’t matter quite as much how far back I leaned in my seat. Just so you know, I made it to the gym and kicked back in my car at 11:11 am.

About the time I managed to get comfortable, my phone rang.

It was a friend of mine..

Marshall.

Now, he refused to admit it, but I know he was a homo. I mean, fuck, we smell our own, am I right? But, in typical hillbilly fashion, he held onto the belief that he wasn’t a dicktickler. Either way, we hit it off way back when, and we’d been best friends ever since. So I answer the phone and Marshall is talking some jibberish about Lynyrd Skynyrd is coming to town soon, and he wants me to go with him. Well, Derek and I, to go with him, I should say.

Because a Skynyrd concert in the middle of Appalachia is a perfect place for a couple of queers who wear their orientation as openly as George Bush wore his stupidity. But, I obliged and said we’d love to, yada, yada. Long story short, Marshall was coming to meet me real quick to get money for our tickets. Growing tired of waiting on Derek, knowing he gets sidetracked easily, I opted to ride to the venue to get our tickets with Marshall. The rain had finally subsided, giving way to an uncomfortably humid summer day. I remember essentially zoning out the entire way to get our tickets, only interrupted by the sounds of sirens on the opposite side of the highway. “That’s an awful lot of sirens.” I thought to myself, but didn’t really invest myself in the thought. Curious to check my social media accounts, I reach for my phone. Ah, well shit. I guess I left it in my car instead of putting it back in my pocket. Eh, no big deal, ain’t really expecting anyone to call anyways.

12:30 pm..

So at this point we had got the tickets and made it back to the garage where my car was parked. Marshall hung out for a couple minutes, and then went about his way. I climbed back in my car and reached for my cell phone.

13 missed calls…

13 voicemails....

“What the fuck?!” I think to myself as I quickly fumble through my Samsung to my call log.

The first number I see is one that I don’t recognize.

The other 12?

All from Derek…

Quickly, I begin to call Derek…

Straight to voicemail.

“Did he kill his battery trying to call me?” I say aloud to myself with a nervous laugh.

I figure there is no point in beating a dead horse, so I call my voicemail. The first message is from the number I didn’t recognize…

Cadryn stops for a moment. He manages to muster a smile, just as tears begin to stream down his cheeks…

Like I said, bare with me, please…

Cadryn wipes away the tears with the sleeve of his shirt, before running his hands through his hair and taking a long drawn out deep breath.

The message starts with no one on the line, but an abnormal amount of background noise.

Sirens..

At this point my heart begins to race, but I’m not sure why? I heard sirens earlier and didn’t bat an eyelash. Why now, though?

Suddenly, after a bit of fumbling with the receiver, a voice comes across the line..

Mr. Thompson. My name is Dr. Natalie Tiberius. I am a Trauma Surgeon at St. Mary’s. Mr. Thompson I’m calling to inform you that your husband Derek Thompson has been in an accident.

My phone fell from my hand like debris from a demolition site. Frozen in shock, my mind begins to race. After a few seconds I regain my composure and grab my phone as fast as I can and put it back to my ear.

Message over.

I press replay and return the phone to my ear once more.

Mr. Thompson. My name is Natalie Tiberius. I am a Trauma Surgeon at St. Mary’s. Mr. Thompson, I’m calling to inform you that your husband Derek Thompson has been in an accident. He was involved in a head on collision, and as of right now the Fire Department and Paramedics are working to free him from the car..

Without thinking I pull my phone away and check the time of the message..

11:44 am...

Essentially just minutes after I left with Marshall.

I quickly start my car and slam it in reverse. I haul ass out of that parking garage enroute to St. Mary’s. After about 20 minutes I arrive at St. Marys. By this point I don’t know what to think, I should have called her back, but I panicked. Mind racing, knees weak, I run from my car, through the automatic doors and into the emergency department.

“DEREK THOMPSON. WHERE IS HE?! DID THEY GET HIM OUT?!”

I scream out in the midst of the lobby.

The registration nurse frantically begins looking through the patient directory, before picking up a phone and placing a call.

Roughly a minute passes without a word from the nurse, and I lose it.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, BITCH?! WHERE THE FUCK IS MY HUSBAND?!”

Just as I finish my little outburst I hear a door open behind me..

Mr. Thompson?

I recognize that voice I think to myself as I slowly turn to find a small blonde female approaching me. Her green scrubs turned crimson…

I’m Cadryn Thompson I quickly exclaim..

I am Dr. Natalie Tiberius. Please come with me.

She beckons me towards the same door that she had just came through. As I enter the she comes to an abrupt stop, before turning to face me once again

Mr. Thompson.

She pauses for what seems like an eternity

Mr. Thompson..

Your husband suffered severe internal injuries in the accident.They were unable to extricate him from the vehicle due to the extensive damage the vehicle suffered in the accident. The Firefighters and Paramedics did everything they could, but his injuries were just too severe. Unfortunately, Derek succumbed to his injuries at 12:27 pm. Paramedics attempted CPR, but it was unsuccessful. I am very sorry for your loss…

No…

“This has to be some kind of joke. This can’t be real…”

I thought to myself as we stood there in silence.

12:27…

3 minutes after the last time he called me…

3 minutes before I made it back to my phone..

Dr. Tiberius places a hand on Cadryn’s shoulder.

Mr. Thompson, our hospital offers grief counseling for family members or loved ones.

Before she can even finish, I drop to my knees. Without hesitation, with sincerity and with the utmost repent, I began to pray..

Before I can even finish my prayer, I burst like a bubble. I swear to God, I’ve never cried so hard in my life. I cried so hard that they were forced to put me on oxygen to keep me from passing out.

He was gone..

My everything…

Torn away like some cruel fucked up joke…

Depression, Denial, Anger..

They hit immediately. The first thing I wanted to do was murder the motherfucker that caused this. But, sadly, I was too late. It seems the reason my angel was taken too soon was because the other driver suffered a heart attack at the wheel.

Lucky motherfucker.

He doesn’t have to deal with the grief, the guilt, the anguish, the pain. He gets a free pass to whatever shitfuck paradise he fucking believes in. While I’m forced to continue on, alone and afraid..

For hours I pace the halls of the hospital, trying to make sense of it. Waiting for Derek to just show up out of the blue and for this all to be some kind of twisted prank or a bad dream.

He never did..

Later that night, I cried in my father’s arms for the first time since I was a child. He held me close and did his best to reassure me and to comfort me. Eventually, he convinces me to leave the hospital and to come stay with him for a few days. I argue, but eventually give in.

Alone in my old room, I sit on my twin bed clutching a pillow my mother gave me when I was a child. As tears stream down my face I grab my phone.

As hysterical as I am, I manage to wrangle it all back in long enough to hear myself think.

I argued with myself for a while before I inevitably decided to check my voicemails…

Message 2 (Message 1 was the hospital)

”So, don’t be too mad, but I kind of totalled the car. Not even sure what happened. One minute I’m on my way to meet you, and the next I’m pinned between the steering wheel and seat. They are working to cut the door off so I can hop out of here. They say I’m fine, nothing worth worrying about. I’ll keep you updated babe, love you.”

Message 3
”I’m just gonna blow up your phone until you answer, my dear. So just expect me to call you over and over to keep myself entertained. I assume you left your phone in your locker. See you soon, sweetheart. Love you.”

Message 4
”I kind of wish they’d hurry up. My stomach is starting to hurt something awful. Probably just hunger pains. I also wish you’d check your phone, now I’m starting to get worried about you! Love you!”

Message 5

”My stomach is really starting to hurt bad. I’m getting a nervous feeling. The Paramedics won’t give me any updates. Not sure why. Love you..”

Message 6

”Cadryn, I really need to talk to you. I’m scared. I keep having this excruciating pains and I think I keep blacking out.. I’m so tired. Love you..”

Message 7

*Dead Air*

Message 8

“Hey, I just want you to know that I love you more than anything in this world. I just need you to know that, ok?”

Message 9

”It won’t be long now, my love. They’ve almost got the door off, and at that point I’ll be headed to St…”

The line suddenly goes silent. For moments the line sits silent before the call is disconnected…

Message 10

”Cadryn, tell your dad how much I love him, okay? I need him to know that he’s always been a huge part of my life since you introduced him, and I will always be here if he ever needs anything..”

Message 11

”Hey babe, I think I’m gonna rest my eyes until they finish up. They gave me something strong for the stomach pain, it’s getting harder and harder to keep my eyes open. Talk to you soon, love you..”

Message 12

”I just had the weirdest dream. I had a dream that I was in a car wreck, but then I rolled over and you were there in bed with me. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel a little more real than I’d liked..”

I later found out that the Paramedics had been pumping him full of Fentanyl to make him comfortable. They knew from the get go, they just refused to tell him anything other than that he was going to be fine…

Message 13 (The last message)

”Hey honey, my battery is almost dead. I’m gonna go ahead and go to bed. Wake me up whenever you get home so you can tell me how your day went. I can’t wait to see you, I love you so much!”

He was in shock, and had been the entire time. Between the internal injuries and the bleeding and pressure on his brain, he couldn’t grasp the severity of the situation. So the messages were as one would expect, all over the place. Looking back, I’m happy that his last bit of time wasn’t burdened with pain and sadness.

The tears begin to fall faster now. Cadryn closes his eyes and places his head in his hands for a moment before lifting his head back up. With a slight smile and a look to the heavens he begins to speak.

I will forever carry that pain and sadness for you, Derek. You’re free to gossip with the angels now. Just please remember…

I’ll always love you..

Cadryn turns his back to the camera for a moment, wiping his face until it is finally dry. He takes a deep breath and turns back around to the camera.

Sorry to spring that all on y’all. I know it’s a long story, and I know it’s a lot to take in, but I needed to get the truth out there. That’s what Derek would have wanted.

Oh, by the way, I think by now you’ve probably figured out that the trauma surgeon is my wife. If you ever wondered how we met, now you know! But how that all came to fruition, ya know, cause I love dick, is a whole other story, for another time.

Well, I guess that brings me to you, Pete. Hopefully you were able to keep up with all of that.

Highly unlikely, but you never know!

Anyways, the moral of the story is tragedy, heartache, and loss. The same three things that you will be dealing with this Saturday at Leap of Faith when I run through that ass and become Hart Champion for a 2nd time!

Jesus…

Did you hear that?

I watched two piss poor promos aired by Gilmour and I’m starting to catch the fucking downs.

Ick.

If I ever open with something that shitty again, I’ll just fucking pin myself so you can win, fuck..

Anyways, sorry I’m late, Pete. Been a little busy dealing with being the most entertaining superstar the XWF has ever seen.

Oh but I haven’t done anything lately, is probably what you’re thinking.

That’s true.

And I’m still more entertaining than the thought of you playing Oregon Trail and dying of Dysentery cause you couldn’t resist some spoiled meat.

Fat jokes.

Winner.

Though I did win a match a few weeks ago on Savage, so there’s that.

Honestly, dude, I’m not really sure where to begin. There is so much ridiculousness in your promos that I’m kind of at a loss for words. So in a sense you were right, I am tongue tied. Not out of fear of you or this match, but because I think watching your videos caused me to have a stroke.

But I digress…

Speaking of which, like, what?

This fuckin’ guy, man.

I get it though, I do. Digressing is similar in form to verbal backpedaling, which you’re a goddamn expert at. It’s like Einstein’s Theory Of Relativity. Except in this example it’s “E=MC(SCARED)”.

Cause’ that’s what you are, my friend. You’re terrified of little ole’ me.

You’ve been around since I showed up. You’ve watched legends fall before me. The same legends that laughed at you day after day. Everything you can do I can do better, I can get pussy wetter than you. See what I did there? I’m gay. It’s irony, Pete. Try and keep up. I’m like a Hurricane of Cocksuckery over here makin’ the bitches moist and the boys rejoice, while you’re off in left field laying pipe to that chick who always bragged about sucking her dad off for a can of Skoal.

Speaking of..

Hi Maria.

Long time no see.

Now you see, Pete. She was your ace in the hole. She could have swayed this in your direction. But you don’t think outside the box like I do.

If you had any type of a brain, you’d have busted me out on the fact that Maria has already beaten me once.

It should have went something like “Maria, is a woman, and she whipped your ass. Imagine what I’m gonna do..” so on and so forth. You get the picture. I got my ass handed to me when I first arrived by none other than Maria Brink. I showed up and she shoved my cock so far into my own ass even I couldn’t enjoy it.

But, it’s ok, Pete. You’re a little slow on the uptake, I feel ya, dawg.

Instead of using her talent to your advantage, you concentrated on talking shit.

...on everyone else.

I mean, you had some things to say about me, I acknowledge that. It was shit, honestly. It wasn’t good, it wasn’t clever, and it was lackluster.

What kind of shit you got going on with Maddy anyways? You fuckin’ came in your pants every time YOU uttered his name.

IT WAS LIKE A FLOOD OF FAGGOTRY CAME RUSHING OUT OF YOUR PEE HOLE AND ALL OVER THE XWF UNIVERSE.

Shameful, Pete.

Shameful.

And I’ve probably got these out of order because your promo’s are so fuckbusted that I want to actually come to your house and cut the next one for you so that you have a chance of beating me. But it was like “Fuck you, Maddy. Doodoohead.” and then it it was like “Fuck you, John Holliday, Stupidhead.”

Woah.

Kiss your mother with that mouth, sir?

You shit talk, and it’s fucking hysterical.

But it’s not supposed to be. I mean, you’re legit serious. You think that the things you say are Hail Marys. When in reality they are more like failed carries. See what I did there? That’s a play on words, Pete. No worries, I’ll make sure and send you a copy of the Cliffnotes of the asswhippin’ I’m already puttin’ on your raggedy ass.

But yeah dude, I know you’re obsessed with The Kings, but they aren’t in the match. Well, Maddy is, so props for acknowledging that.

BUT YOU SHOULDN’T IGNORE YOUR OPPONENT TO GET YOUR ROCKS OFF THINKING YOU’RE GETTING UNDER MADDYS SKIN.

SPOILER ALERT: NOPE.

Oh and the only clause in your contract is Santa Claus. As in, you’re fat as shit and you are the perfect ugly Santa.

Fat jokes.

Winner.

Oh. My God.

You even referred to yourself as Rudolph. Further enhancing my Santa pun.

You’re the best, Pete, seriously.

Anywho…

Why would I be coming to OUR match to face YOU and spend all my time praising The King's? That seems counterproductive, in fact, now that I think about it, your promos are counterproductive.

Hmmm…

But yeah, man. I ain’t give a fuck what they are doing. Yeah, we’re friends, and I do a job that I’m paid to do, but you’re not facing Jester Cadryn, Pete. You’ve got the terrible misfortune of facing The Essence Of Excellence. Go ask Robert Main and Reno how they did against me.

I’ll just go ahead and save you time: Not well.

Actually, leave Reno be. God’s Gift aka Kris Cruze aka Cadryn Tiberius fucked on him and I think he’s still salty.

Also, shit for brains, I didn’t “barely” defend the Hart Title. I refused to defend it and got fired. I didn’t want the belt then, and I honestly don’t want the belt now. But do you know what I do want, Pete? I want to add another “legend” to the long list of punkass bitches I’ve set straight around these parts. Let’s face it honey, when it comes to slingin’ dick, Double G got plenty of dick to give, ya feel me?

Did you really say our match should be Main Event?

Did you see who is in our match?

Incase you didn’t I’ll tell ya.

It’s that fuckin Fatmour kid, man. Mothefucker always runnin’ around the locker room smelling like chili cheese fries, anti rape mace, and fuckin Bosley’s hair plugs. That motherfucker been here so goddamn long, the goddamn abacus he uses to tally his losses had to be re-greased before he could tally the winning of the Hart Title. Motherfuckin’ things ain’t slid towards that side of the board, well, ever.

And fuck you, I don’t care that you beat Scully for the Uni title. Did you also smack a blind child in the mouth and take his Trick or Treat bag too you American Hero badass?!

God, dude.

You’re more imitation than invigoration. More digressive than impressive, and more pussified than homicide. You call yourself The Queen Of Kotex, yet you afraid of a little blood. You wanna talk about our match being bloody and brutal? Are you kidding me, dude? That’s fucking hilarious. Do you think this is some sort of week long spectacle?

Not. Even. Close.

Give me 5 seconds, I’ll beat you in 3.

Church.

So, I don’t normally do this. But this next part is so absurd, I feel as though I need to read it verbatim for the people at home.

Quote:CADDY! Hey, Caddy! You there bro?

Peter gets close to the camera and knocks on the lens to see if Caddy is out there watching or listening. He hasn't so far but we'll see what happens.

Peter: I guess you ain't huh Caddy. What's the matter bro? Cat got your tongue? Or is Samuels fucking you in the ass too hard that you can't walk or talk? You disgust me. I thought I'd at least have a challenge and we are two days away from LEAP OF FAITH! Are you going to sandbag me like that asshole John Holliday did? I mean come on Caddy, I know you better than that. Try to at least cut a decent promo on me ok? Don't come out here saying this and that about the KINGS. I could care less ok?

Yeah man, I’m here. I’m relishing the fact that you seem to think you’ve had this won since the get go.

DO YOU EVER DO YOUR RESEARCH, PETE? IF YOU HAD, YOU’D HAVE KNOWN THAT

YOU. CAN’T. BEAT. ME.

THERE ISN’T A SINGLE PERSON ON THIS ROSTER THAT CAN BEAT ME IF I DON’T ALLOW THEM TO.

...cept’ Raven.

BUT FUCK THAT GUY.

...AND I JUST MIGHT…

So Pete, that clip that I just played for the viewers at home, is a prime example of what not to do if you’d like to ever win a match.

You see, young Fatwan, I poorly execute fat jokes for comedic value. IE: Fatwan. It’s like Padawan from Star Wars only fatter.

You on the other hand, just execute your chances of winning.

You thought you were going to have a challenge?

Bitch, please.

I’d beat you on my worst day.

On my best day, you’re like a powerbottom at an orgy.

Fucked.

Oh and quit listing every fucking finisher your lame ass can contrive. I get it. You’re gonna Fatmour Press me or Gilbert Godfrey DDT me, or whatever you call those lame attempts at creativity.

Honest to God, man. I could have literally defended every portion of your promo by getting a piece of posterboard and writing “NOPE. WRONG AGAIN!” on it and just holding it up the camera while you talked.

Oh well, Hindsight and such.

Anyways, I feel I’ve said enough.

Oh, but if we’re gonna list arbitrary titles, check out my fuckin’ beast nicknames, .

THEY CALL ME…

“The Essence Of Excellence”
“The Reflection Of Perfection”
“The Oncoming Storm”
“The Epitome Of Manliness”
“The Jester”
“God’s Gift”
“Double G”
“Adonis”

Wasn’t that fun?

No.

It was trite and inevitably irrelevant.

Just like your career.

See you Saturday, kitten!

<3

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