The opening avatar came on the screen--dark and bleak, showing a man in a full trench coat walking down an alley, with shots of Chris blending in and out.


Then the scene cuts to pristine Clearwater Beach, Florida. It shows Pier 60, the cocaine white sand, the greenish hue of the Gulf rolling in. Arial view. It took us over the city of Clearwater and over the Courtney Campbell Bridge, into Tampa.


The skyline of Tampa is now visible as music plays in the background, light enough to be notice but soft enough not to distract the viewer from what is going on in the picture. It passed by some historic buildings in Ybor City, one of the oldest and most stories districts in the entire city.


It circled around the city as THE X-TREME WRESTLING FEDERATION PRESENTS: shows up on the screen. Street signs from inner Tampa are shown as it moves away from the city, towards Pasco County.

Finally, it cuts to Chris, taking off his sunglasses and looking into the camera as the scene fades to black.

THE CHRIS CHAOS SHOW

Chris is sitting in a lounge chair on a balcony over looking Tampa. He has a drink in his hand, with the fancy straw, and camera crews all around him.

"Scully.....I should have expected you to be the first on to open your mouth. You just can't stay away from the camera's can you? Whatever ounce of limelight there is to soak in, you have to shove your nose in it with all your glory. I mean you can't even keep your story straight long enough to talk shit about me. First I've never won another title besides the Universal, then I was Tag Champions. Which is it? I don't think you know anything about me that isn't on a cue card. I question if you can even viably read a cue card. I question a lot of things about you, Scully, but watching you stumble through yet another promo with childish insults and a desperate, bordering on pathetic, attempt to be comical was almost as painful as breaking a bone. Compound fracture. You lost to James Raven a few weeks ago, a man I have beaten TWICE. You spent the first 5 minutes of your promo telling us about how James Raven beat you and how you beat up on some nobodies in order to stock pile wins for your resume. Facing Muddy Waters doesn't make you top tier. Hell, Muddy Waters went on hiatus after I lit his ass on fire last year. Then I beat his daughter like most men in Kentucky do. These matches don't make you good, Scully, they make you just above average. Floating just enough above the water not to drown. 2017 sucked for you because talent in XWF is as good as its ever been, and you just can't hang with the top dogs.

You know what happens when Scully gets title shots? Well.. Where do I start? I've hardly had any let's be fair.

Really? Like we don't know that. Do you feel you've earned any? You had to back up your title history with telling us all, for the umpteenth time, that you took the Universal Title from Vinnie Lane. Congrats, Scully. We are all proud of you. What you failed to mention is who you lost it to. After almost a year of ducking title matches and snubbing deserving competitors, you dropped the belt to Peter Fucking Gilmour. Of all people, you dropped it to XWF's punchline. Funny how you left that little detail out. But you sandwiched it in with back-patting with your shots for the X-Treme Title, the Tag Titles.......yippee. 4 different partners? Did you ever think that maybe nobody can stand to be around you long enough to team with you long term? And the X-Treme Title? Hell anyone can win that all you need to do is catch someone sleeping. Just because you've had a couple shots, Scully, doesn't mean you're drunk yet. You're one loss away from being written off and one win away from actually being in the discussion of who we'd rather see lose to next. Your entertainment value, as I said before, is all you have to latch onto.

But since you want to hang on every word like a former teacher who can't retire in peace, let me look at a few things you said.

Ain't it funny that The Engineer could've cashed it in on anyone pretty much and he chose you?

I'm actually honored. It showed that Engy respected my ability to be a threat to him for long enough that he needed to ax it. Not only that, but he and Jim had some sort of a butt play relationship going. He wanted him and his buddy to be champions. He didn't choose me because I was the "weakest champion", he chose me because of his alliance with Jim. You dumb motherfucker. You're so desperate to diss me you don't even see the bigger picture. It was strategic. And Engy, he is a legit mental patient. You're just one of those mental patients who does something dumb then pleads insanity hoping to get the sympathy vote. Hell I have clipped toenails tougher than you. Just quit while you're ahead, I've already got you dead to rights.

Scene cuts

It comes back on with Chris, donned in an XWF=CHAOS tee and a pair of jeans walking through what appears to be Ybor City on the city's north side.

Holding in his hand is a photo, laminated and framed. Bruce walked with him, his hair glistening in the Florida sun, even brighter than his jewelry. Chris seemed to be in a good mood. The camera crews followed him up the street, past the porches where people sat eating and enjoying adult beverages, past the old cigar factories and the closed during the daytime nightclubs.

He was walking with a purpose.

"Where is it we are going, anyway?" Bruce asks, trying to keep up with Chris's stride. He sounds a bit out of breath, probably from years of smoking.

"I have here a photo of a couple of my opponents, and I want to get the people's input on them. Since I am going to be TV champion, and this gorgeous face will be plastered all over the airwaves from here on out, I want to be more interactive with the people. Hey, its on Vinnie's dime, so why worry?"

"Who said I was worried?"

Chris turns the corner and his destination comes into clear view. Bruce groans, knowing immediately where the next Television Champion is headed.

Hovering around Honey Pot, the known LGBT nightclub in Tampa, was a crowd of some of the crowds that frequent the area. The club was closed until 10 PM, but the crowds that usually go there were already outside. Chris made a bee line, walking with a pep in his step. He hadn't been this excited about something in a long time.

Immediately, the homos looked at him as if he were a cat at a dog show. They knew immediately that he wasn't from there.

He walked up to one of the homos and called him over, pulling out the folder with the photos.

"Excuse me flames, may I ask you a question?"

Bruce put his palm on his face.

"Umm......who are you? I don't just talk to anyone who walks up to me." His hands were limper than wet dish rags, and Chris thought he made out a snap or two.

"That's fine.....I understand that you are out here trolling for your next dick, but what if I were able to help you?"

The mans eyes got a little wide, and he looked Chris up and down.

"Whoa, whoa, exit only here, pal. But what if I were to show you some power bottoms, who love to be spread like butter on a bisquit, and you tell me which of them you'd give a prolapse to?"

The man seemed skeptical, but eventually agreed. What the hell else was there to do, the bar didn't open for several hours and this could be fun.

The first photo he showed was of Drew Archyle, and the man scrunched his face.

"What kind of game is this?" he asked with his noticeable lisp, "this man is atrocious. I wouldn't fuck him with your dick. I thought you were showing me some scrumptious figures, not guys who look like skinny Shrek".

Chris tried to hold back a laugh. "Don't worry, it gets better. But, this guy, I heard he can take a pounding..."

The man made a motion as if he was puking into his mouth.

The snap snapped his fingers. "Next."

"Okay, maybe Drew isn't your thing. I have another photo. This one, his name is John."

Chris switched the photos to John Holliday.

"Ahh, now THERE is a man's man! Oooooooo, I'd lick anything off of him."

Chris grinned.

"What if I told you that he pals around with a fat slop who makes sloth from The Goonies look like a GQ model?"

"Yuck."

"Yes, and he has the personality of a wet dish towel. Everything is angry, all the time, angry."

"That isn't attractive."

"But we know you'd fuck him, I have one more though, and I think you will like him the best."

"Why is that?"

"Here."

Chris switched to a photo of Scully.

The man's eyes lit up.

"Who..........is........THAT?!"

"He goes by Scully."

"Like the X-Files."

"Yes, just as fake as that show is."

"Gimme the deets" the man was almost salivating.

"Well, if it helps, he would probably let you fuck him in the ass. Every man he comes in contact with seems to leave his asshole a bloody mess, so why should you be any different?"

The man raised his eyebrows.

"So how do you know these men?"

"I work with them. They are totally gay, all of them. Especially this one."

"Yeah he is the only one who looks gay."

Chris turns towards the camera. "See, Scully, even Faggatron 3000 says you look gay. It isn't just me."

He turns back towards the man.

"He wrestles in tighty whitey looking trunks too, you can see the total package."

"How is the personality. If I am gonna do him, I gotta make a connection."

"Oh, he is a total douchebag, but he can be funny at times."

"Hmmmmm."

"Yeah, and did I mention that he is constantly making sexually charged jokes? He hasn't been laid in a long, long time."

The man shook his hand and Chris moved onto the next gay man, then the next, going through the process. The evidence was conclusion, all of them thought Drew looked like a troll, all of them thought John was hot, and all of them wanted to fuck Scully, because he looked the most like someone who would indulge them.

Scene Cuts.

Chris was walking down 7th Avenue in Tampa as the sun set. It wouldn't be long before he would be heading back to the beach. Growing up here he knew it was a risk to be in Ybor after sundown. Nothing but trouble. He could already hear sirens. Bars were beginning to open their doors, and the neon lights were turning on left and right. The crowds were beginning to pick up. He ducked down an alley way and sat on the closed lid of a trash can.

"Boy it was hot today, and its only the 1st of March. Goddamn." Bruce was leaning on the wall across from him, smoking a cigarette.

There were bottles in the alley, along with trash strewn about. It was dirty, to say the least. Chris could only imagine the things that went on in this alley way.

"Bruce, I am about to bring honor back to this division. I never really gave the TV title much thought, but the closer we get to Turning Point the more honored I am feeling."

"That's good" he said between puffs.

"It is another accomplishment to add to the resume. I mean, I made Top 50 in less than a year, was Universal Champion in my first four months, was a Tag Team Champion, won a Shove It! and was among the last eliminated in a previous one. Now, I will be the longest reining TV champion this company has ever seen. I am going to follow in the footsteps of men like Neville, then shatter the record. I am going to make waves here, and be the best I can be. That I promise."

"I have always had faith in you, kid. Why you think I stuck around this long? I know the drive. I saw the intensity and the passion. You will come of this Fatal 4 Way the champion, I just know it."

"Drinks on you?"

"Drinks on me."

Chris jumped down off the trash can. "Lets go back to the beach, Jenny is making martini's, topless."

The two left the alley, walking by the crumpled remains of a used condom that sat on the pavement. All he could think of was Scully and his ever-bleeding asshole.

END SHOW