Chris Chaos
Corporate Chaos
XWF FanBase: Very random (heel alignment but liked by many; has earned respect despite breaking the rules often)
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06-08-2018, 09:33 PM
Have you ever wondered why you are why you are? Have you ever looked in the mirror and said 'damn, I could be anyone else, why am I me?' You don't have a choice but to accept it, embrace it, and roll with it. People are one of a kind, and there is only one of us. We get one life, and dwelling over why we are who we are will only lead to a lonely existence.
----The flashing lights were still on, glowing a bright orange in the night sky. The only illumination on the road were the vast majority of stars visible in the sky on this night. There was another car, just off the road, which couldn't be seen from the natural light. Only the flashers fro the first car could illuminate it in second and a half intervals. All over the road, there were small clear stones...or what looked like stones. Upon closer look, they were shards of glass, mixed in with small pieces of rubber from a tire that sat a few yards from the flashing vehicle. The tire sat in the middle of the road, its aluminum alloy rims bent out of position.
There was a small bit of smoke coming from the flashing car, but a fairly good amount coming from the car hidden by the natural darkness.
The candy paint on the side of both of them looked as though Freddy Kruger got ahold of it, with slash marks through it. The edges didn't look like shapes that existed.
There was a static sound coming from one of the cars, an eerie hiss, that could either be the radio or something on the inside that was sizzling.
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Gripping the wheel, this day just had not been his. His head ached from the sucker punch, and his ribs from the attempted jumping. Shaking his head as he looked out at the farm land around him, the sun setting over the flat grass fields, he thought about what rammifications could come from this. The kids he fought off were cop callers---funny how they can break the law then call it when it doesn't go their way---so when he heard engines in the distance he figured sirens weren't far behind. With a sigh, he was ready to take the fall for this. They jumped him, but they also looked a lot worse for wear. Going over his story in his head, he wondered if he would spend the night in jail. He readied himself for it.
The sun was almost fully down. He still heard the souped up motors, but surely the cops would be on him by now if it were them? Cops don't mess around ,especially in Florida. Annoying, self-entitled fucks. They don't care as long as they get their quota. They have no qualms fucking up someone's life over a small amount of pot or cigar residue they claim comes from it. But this was different. This was synchronized. These cars, about three or so based on the number of headlights in the rearview, had a purpose beyond financial gain. These cars were out for blood. The white plates glistening in the natural light behind him, he knew what he needed to do.
Hitting the clutch, he put the car in 5th. He felt the engine kick into gear, and the hum from under the metal music as he took off like the Millenium Falcon in lightspeed.
The cars broke off, only one was behind him now. It was keeping a decent pace behind. Close enough to monitor, but far enough back not to seem too suspicious.
Everything is suspicious. He chose this road on purpose because nobody ever comes out this way. Lithia is not a populated town.
The car stayed this way for a bit, but his eyes were taken off the rear view by a light blinding his perephrial vision......
A car, coming towards him. Fast. Faster than he was coming at it. There was no other option. He gripped the wheel.
Wanna play hardball?
Okay.
Chicken. Playing chicken. We all die one day, why go out like a coward.
The lights increased, they were becoming blinding. Was someone going to swerve first? Were they as ballsy as they wanted people to believe? He hoped so.
He really fucking hoped so.
The next few seconds should have slowed down, as a time for him to reflect. Instead, they flew by. A kalidascope of lights, thoughts, feelings, emotions. He thought about everything he loved. Nicole. Was tonight the last night he was going to see her?
In a way, he hoped so.
The cars were practically kissing................
That is when he heard an ear piercing scream. It may have been the only reason why he turned his head away from the glass at the last moment......
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TO BE CONTINUED
"When the cage comes down and that door locks, the world as we know it turns on its ear. It becomes just a world of pain. A world I flourish in. Peter Gilmour has been in a bit of a rut, and was totally right when he says I have been on a roll. I have won 12 in a row, am a double champion, the superstar of the month, you name it. But the best part of being a champion is defending that title. People forget so quickly. Look at the world we live in--social media controls our thoughts, fads become trends, and suddenly we find ourselves liking something simply because someone else does. People only remember the last thing they see. What they are going to see when Warfare goes off the air in my hometown is Chaos and Gilmour, holding our belts high over our heads, while two water buffalo lie below like a lions fresh kill. Blood....and lots of it.
You see, Peter, I don't hate you. You aren't my best friend, but I don't hate you. We share a mutual respect for one another, which is why you put your personal feelings aside to choose me in your tag title match, and I did what I do best. Win. Dominate. Prove people wrong. Pig and Bourbon are bigger, stronger, but sure as shit not faster. Robbie Bourbon is about as fast as superglue and War Pig walks around with his chest puffed out so far over fabricated accomplishments that his walk looks more like he just took it in the ass than he kicks it. Peter Gilmour can kick some ass, I know he as it in him, right next to the Taco Bell. I mean the man has been champion here before, several times, so he has the capability. All I need to do is bring it out of him. Look at what happened against Engy......he looked better than he has looked in years. He looked like the old Peter Gilmour. I am so used to having people bring their A game against me, it feels good to have someone bring it for me.
I have two matches in one night, not a small task by any means, but it is the life of being a double champion. My workload has expanded, but I am ready to pick up the load. I am a workhorse........I think I have shown that. The XWF wasn't ready for me when I got here, and they aren't ready for me now.
Robbie had a chance to come out and lay the lumber. He had a chance to throw me under the bus so deep chances are I could never recover. All Robbie needed to do was say "scoreboard." All he had to do was throw in my face that I haven't beaten him since the chamber, haven't beaten him one on one. I beat him in the tag match with Jenny versus him and Mandii, sure, but Jenny did most of the work in that one. What did Robbie do? He came out and gave us some run around documentary about politics. Like I said, Robbie can be good when he wants to be but in recent history his mind has been more scrambled than a 3 year olds Etch-n-Sketch. Real shame, if you ask me. The cage is a warzone. Careers are shortened inside them, but they are also made inside them--as you may already know. Case and point, when the lights are the brightest, I shine the most. These two schlubs shine about as much as charcoal. I like blood, I like pain, and I like to be pat on the back. Call me narcissistic, but the more they talk about me, the happier I am. The more I am in the limelight, the main event, the more I run the show.......the better I perform. I am a true champion. All of these other douche nuggets, they fold like lawnchairs under the pressure.
Peter and I have something special here. Peter and I have the ability to be the Kings, to be the most dominant tag team in modern history. Peter and I have the ability to make people fear us. What do "The Motherfuckers" have? High blood pressure, and that is about it. Peter and I make the best team because we aren't the perfect team. We couldn't be more opposite, but like they say, opposites attract. I haven't felt this good since I've been here, and Peter is desperate.......backed into a corner like a wounded animal.......he has no choice left but to bite. Peter is dangerous because he needs this. I am dangerous because I want it. We are a team that nobody thought could ever coexist in this atmosphere, and here we are. We are the favorites, the champions, the ones with the most to lose. We lose this match, we lose our belts and go our separate ways, and everyone constantly reminds us of how we lost to a washed up team of Jenny Craig rejects. We win, and people begin to take us seriously as a team. People begin to give us the respect we should have gotten from day fucking one. What do those two have to lose? They lose, they were SUPPOSED to lose. They win, they beat a team with the XWF's punching bag Peter Gilmour and Chris Chaos, who has been more up and down than a playground see-saw. That's what they will say, right? Right. If we lose, it looks a lot worse. Which is why we won't. I will do everything in my power to make sure that I leave my home town the same way I entered it, a champion. The same way I left it before I came here.........a legend.
Unstoppable.
Chaotic.
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