The scene opens up to a near-deserted schoolyard where it appears to have been abandoned for years. The swings and playground equipment looks severely dilapidated and in erroneously bad shape as the red paint has certainly faded and nearly washed away with the years of neglect and negativity that has certainly been surrounding this school structure for eons. The grass beneath our feet is nothing but a tattered mess of weeds and dandelions with many splotches of dirt exposing large areas of the ground obvious from an apparent fire that must have taken place on this very spot long ago.

The school is staggering and fading like a mirage in the sunset placed perfectly in the center of a tall hill. Shimmering like a pool of water with a slight wind grazing it's surface. Fading in a haze in and out like a picture on the television screen not obtaining it's full signal and producing a wavy picture of blurred lines and colors all-encompassing every wavelength of color strand known to the human eye custom to the hues of the rainbow. Smashed and mashed together like a kindergartener painting he put together at recess.

A giant conglomeration of confusion similar to a Chronic Chris Page promo that was obviously put together by someone of a similar low IQ like that of said child painting at recess. He must beat and harass children because he thinks and acts just like one. Throwing temper tantrums and acting immature constantly. Pretty soon he'll be dancing around doing the moonwalk and inviting them to his home on neverland ranch because he never got to have a childhood of his own. Did old man Page force you into a life of wrestling and not let you explore your imagination and just let a kid be a kid? Did he force you on the ground and watch his buddies from his job down at the ol' coal factory GANG up on you?

Did the big greasy men shove your face down into the mat over and over again as they pound your voluptuous and tender young body repeatedly into submission? If so, then get ready for some Post Traumatic Stress Disorder to resurface when you step inside the ring with the Unknown Soldier. All work and no play makes Chris a dull boy or at least an unimaginative one to say the least. Is that why he has such a boring one-track mind that leads him to cut the same cliche' 'I got screwed' promo over and over again and have the same standard wrestling match over and over again against the same fucking arch-rival of his for all eternity? Did his daddy not allow him to have an imagination and creativity, or any type of childhood at all and is he just simply jealous that Unknown Soldier can come up with actual Xtreme match stipulations in the Xtreme wrestling federation?

A small puppy runs out from a bush slightly off-screen and into view of the camera. His cute and cuddly demeanor sets an odd tone for the dreary and disturbing scenes of decrepit destruction surrounding him. He begins chasing a small butterfly across the frayed grass as the two metaphorically dance a loving and soul-satisfying waltz of happiness in a field of complete disarray. That is until.....


















SMASH!

A giant boot comes from off-screen and crushes the poor puppy as a small yelp is heard before the cracking of bones and the smearing of blood on the small strands of grass just near its now comatose corpse. The boot lifts up its heels and then presses the mangled mash of bone and blood into the ground further with the tip of its toe as if it were stomping and smearing out a small insect with no regard for the life it just took. The camera pans to the face of the wretched human being that harmed the poor defenseless creature.

Unknown Soldier: "Like lambs to the mother fuking slaughter! As long as they keep falling into my trap I'll keep stomping them out!"

Greggo: "Is that some kind of metaphor about Chris Page!"

Standing behind the Universal Champion is this buffoonish brain dead bimbo deciphering Soldier's analogies

Unknown Soldier: "It's amazing that things like this are even obvious to you, as opposed to XWF's resident shit stain that can't even catch a common metaphor if it came up and attached it's lips to his cock. Since that's the only thing he likes to swing around here in the XWF and try to act tough. He's got no real merits to throw around, so he's got to continuously stroke his own ego by making up excuses for why he can't win the Universal title rather pulling his metaphorical pee-pee out to try and get everyone's attention around here. I mean, come on, the way this idiot confuses his career with greatness makes me think there's a certain reason he drives a big car and lives in a big fancy house if you know what I mean!? He's probably not swinging around any helicopter blades, and more than likely likes to gyrate his junk around like a small propellor on the top of a child's hat."

Greggo: "Oh, that's quite the inserted little innuendo there that you just threw down! Then in your last promo when you compared Page to a silly and stupid little dog chasing his tail this is all starting to make sense now."

Greggo says as he begins eating a pile of paint chips laying on the ground that had fallen off the side of the school building.

Unknown Soldier: "I'm glad I don't have to point out the obvious irony in that statement to go along with the particles you are consuming."

Greggo: "It's brain food! Food for my brain!"

Unknown Soldier: "It sure is Greggo, it sure is...."

The midnight murder machine says while lifting his boot up from the ground to reveal nothing but a smear of red blood stained on the eroded grass particles beneath him. Greggo starts making his way up to the school, but Soldier instead gets down on his hands and knees and starts to sniff the ground beneath where he just smashed the poor puppy. He starts to lick the grass and lap up any small resemblance left of the dead animal. Greggo feels that his partner in crime is not close behind him and turns around to speak to him and lure him away from his prey.

Greggo: "Come on, the guys up there in the school!"

Soldier is a bit perturbed that Greggo has lured him away from devouring the leftovers of the small puppy, but none the less feels the need to follow him on some random bewildering journey the two have gotten themselves into once again. Just like old times, Soldier and Greggo together once again!

Unknown Soldier: "Why are we walking around in some condescending cliche storyline going up to meet some unnamed character that's going to reveal some big secret to us! Can't we come up with something better than that? I mean, what are we, a late-season dying sitcom episode of Breaking Bad where we meet the next drug mob boss bigger than the last one just so we can stretch this thing out a few seasons more and score some extra cash?! Do we really need a movie now, I thought we finally reached the top of the food chain when Walter White died?"

Greggo: "This guy hates Chris Page more than anyone else in the XWF and he'll know all the secrets and he'll be our secret weapon in the long run."

Unknown Soldier: "If I wanted to meet up with Peter I'd just sprinkle some hot bitches around, or simply make Maria Brink appear with a little bit of black magic and eventually he'll come around!"

Greggo: "No, it's not Peter, it's someone else that hates Chris Page more than him even!"

Unknown Soldier: "That's impossible!"

Greggo: "What kind of big reveal would this be if it were something that obvious!"

Unknown Soldier: "Good point! I hope everyone at home is paying attention to this valid point, but I won't keep my fingers crossed as I know some of you are too busy stroking your ego to pay any attention at all!"

The two make their way slowly up the hill, staggering along like a couple of drunken sailors until they reach the school building. The stairs are rickety and crumbling beneath their feet as they climb them to enter the old schoolhouse. They swing open a wooden door that immediately falls off its hinges as it is obvious it has seen its fair share of termites in its day. They make their way down a long, narrow, and dark hallway until they come across a light that turns on in the farthest classroom at the far end of the hallway.

Greggo: "He's in there! I can't join you or go any further on this spiritual journey of yours. Beyond this point, you'll have to travel alone to meet your destiny inside that small classroom at the end of the hallway."

Unknown Soldier: "What is this? The fucking Matrix? Am I about to go meet the god damn Oracle or something?"

Greggo: "Something like that, now just go!"

Greggo pulls out some more paint chips from his pocket and begins eating them rapidly as Soldier makes his way into the classroom. The strange part about this scenario is that the paint chips are a completely different color than the red on the side of the school building, and must have been in his pocket saved for consumption like some kind of snack or treat from some other house he collected them from? The door slams behind Unknown Soldier immediately upon entering the classroom by some unseen force, and a sound emancipates from behind him in the corner of the room. Soldier looks around the room but sees nothing but a slew of shadows surrounding him.

????: "Soldier! Have a seat, my dear friend, as I school you in the ways of wrestling glory!"

Unknown Soldier: "It's very cliche' for me to start hearing voices in the darkness and listen to their requests. So I'll just go ahead and sit down."

As soon as Soldier sits down in one of the old rickety desks he is immediately strapped in by a pair of handcuff chains that appear out of nowhere and slap him into the seat. Gripping his wrists so quickly and locking him in place so fast that despite his initial action to break free he is unable to even with massive amounts of struggling. His ankles are then locked too by a pair of handcuffs strapped around his feet and he is in no ability to move at all whatsoever!

Unknown Soldier: "Da Fuq is this?"

A projector turns on from behind him to reveal a dark shadowy figure standing directly behind him and casting an outline on the pure white light projecting from the lens onto a white screen in front of Soldier. An old-timey classroom teaching utensil that hasn't been used since the invention of Microsoft Powerpoint!

????: "I'm here to give you the heart, courage, and brains that you seek to overcome the obstacles that lay before you!"

The deep voice says speaking in sinister monotones. The shadow looks large and intimidating standing behind Soldier, merely casting a shadow, with no distinct features of the body, spread onto and projecting the image directly onto the white screen in front of the demonic do-badders face.

Unknown Soldier: "I knew it! The Wizard of fucking Oz! That's where the condescending cliche' dark and anonymous character idea comes from in his shitty promos!"

????: "Quiet you fool, and let the King of Darkness school you in his classroom study group!"

Unknown Soldier: "Wait just a minute, did you just say 'The King of Darkness? Is that you Sebastian Duke! Come on, the only person to come up with something more cliche' and unoriginal as that could only be you, well and maybe Captain Shit for Brains!"

Sebastian Duke slams the projector to the ground clearly upset by Soldier's last statement and reveals to be, in fact, the large shadowy figure standing directly behind him. Sadly it's not some big reveal like a midget behind a curtain, but none the less here we are. Duke is enraged and stomps on the camera lens completely shattering the glass and extinguishing the lights and stopping them from glowing any longer

Sebastian Duke: "Now, you listen here you mangy little mongrel! Shane sent you up here to the Illuminati compound so that you could learn a thing or two from me!"

Unknown Soldier: "I gotta say, Duke, it's a bit of a let down to find out you're the Oracle all along! I mean, for SATAN! sake Duke, you really let this compound place of yours go to hell lately! What happened to that maid and sex slave of yours that used to walk around and clean up after you all the time. What was his name again?"

Duke gets even more pissed off and throws another classroom desk against the wall shattering it into a million pieces.

Unknown Soldier: "Holy shit! Hulk Smash!"

Sebastian Duke: "He's not my fucking sex slave you twit and his name was Asmadeus!"

Unknown Soldier: "Soooo he's just your maid then?"

Duke throws another classroom desk against the wall, this time it comes flying right back at him as the rubber part of the chair strikes the wall. He dodges in just the nick of time to avoid getting hit as it rebounds directly right back at him quickly and harshly.

Sebastian Duke: "He's not my fucking maid either! Just listen to what the hell I gave to say, will ya! This is the old part of the compound that was abandoned when we built a new school for our students. You think I would bring you somewhere in public! This is why we can't have nice things around you because you'd probably be pissing, shitting, or humping them nonstop. Hence why I tied you up! Now, listen to me!"

Duke steps around from behind Soldier and walks to the front of the classroom. He is once again for old times sake wearing his old eye patch from his Black Circle days and crossing his arms trying to look like a complete badass, but if this narrator has anything to say about it, he looks more like goofy oaf trying to act tough.

Sebastian Duke: "Fuck you too!"

Duke says pointing up to the classroom speakers as if screaming the insult back at them.

Unknown Soldier: "Who the fuck you talking to, Duke?"

Sebastian Duke: "Never mind that, let's just get right to lesson number one!"

Duke pulls down the projector screen to unveil a chalkboard now directly behind him, written in white chalk is the words 'KNOW YOUR OPPONENT' underlined and in big bold capitalized letters

Unknown Soldier: "As my opponent put it in the title of his condescending cliche' latest promo, this could be an enormous waste of my time!"

Sebastian Duke: "You can't even say his name right, and we're going to sit here for a very long time until you finally say it right so help me god!"

Unknown Soldier: "Ease up on the swearing, would ya! My delicate eardrums are like flower petals."

Sebastian Duke: "Yeah right, this coming from the guy who's frequently caught in the front row of a death metal concert. Now, let's put those 'delicate' ears of yours to work and listen and then repeat after me."

Unknown Soldier: "Whatever you say, almighty leader of the great emerald city!"

Duke brushes off the silly joke and begins pronouncing the words coming out of his mouth very slowly as if instructing a toddler how to talk. Elongating each syllable so as Soldier can follow along slowly

Sebastian Duke: "C-h-r-o-n-i-c"

Soldier looks a bit estranged but sits up in his seat and responds to Duke

Unknown Soldier: "S-o-m-e....."

Sebastian Duke: "No, no! Whatever, let's try this next word.

Duke shakes his head a bit dejected already as he sees the stubbornness in Unknown Soldier

Sebastian Duke: "C-h-r-i-s.... "

Duke looks to Soldier anxiously anticipating his next response.

Unknown Soldier: "S-h-i-t-t-y...."

Duke balls both his fingers on both his hands into fists.

Sebastian Duke: "P-a-g-e....."

Unknown Soldier: "W-r-e-s-t-l-e-r...."

Duke punches the wall with his right hand plowing through all of the drywall and exposing the room on the other side. Greggo is seen with his ear up against the wall and gnawing on more paint chips. His eyes light up as the drywall all around him looks like a new source of brain food and he immediately begins scampering around on the floor collecting specimens of it to consume.

Sebastian Duke: "That's it! Now it's time to resort to more drastic measures!"

Duke reaches into the teacher's desk and pulls out one of those large dome hair covering devices that you see at the hair salon and attaches it to the back of Soldier's student desk. He adjusts the dome to fit directly over Soldier's head and attaches a cord that runs from the back of the device to a button that he now holds in his left hand.

Unknown Soldier: "Did you tie me all up, just so you could give me a fuckin' perm Duke? That's pretty damn gay if you ask me!"

Duke's face is now exploding red in anger. He presses the button and an electric shock wave goes sizzling through Unknown Soldier electrocuting him so hard that he, in fact, looks like one of those cartoons where the glowing yellow shockwaves trace the outline of a skeleton around Soldier's trembling body. Soldier smiles with a sense of glee over his face, nobody loves being tortured more than him.

Sebastian Duke: "CHRONIC!"

Unknown Soldier: "SOME!"

Duke presses the button again electrocuting him even harder and longer than the previous time, but receives the same smiling reaction from Soldier!

Sebastian Duke: "CHRIS!"

Unknown Soldier: "SHITTY!"

Again, longer and harder, even more of a sense of joy comes across Soldier's sadistic face.

Sebastian Duke: "PAGE!

Unknown Soldier: "WRESTLER!"

Duke makes one last attempt before giving up completely.

Sebastian Duke: "CHRONIC CHRIS PAGE!"

Unknown Soldier: "SOME SHITTY WRESTLER!”

Duke throws up his hands in complete surrender.

Sebastian Duke: "--IGHT' IMMA HEAD OUT!"


He throws the electrocution controller on the ground and then kicks down the door to the classroom, flailing it down the hallway off its hinges and makes his way out of the building, leaving both Soldier strapped in his chair and Greggo eating drywall behind.

Unknown Soldier: "Wow, what's up his butt?! At least he made his exit like some new and unique trending meme lately instead of some condescending cliche' cock head who's so full of himself that he can't even realize he's not even remotely creative at all whatsoever. I mean, he could have fucking Rick Rolled us like the way some douche bags do at the end of their promos when their trapped in the year 2007 and can't come up with anything more clever and more used then Robert Main's sister's mattress! Come on Greggo, get me the hell out of here!"

Greggo runs over to Soldier and starts gnawing on the metal handcuffs keeping him strapped to the chair. He's trying awfully hard, but it's obviously not as simple as a rat biting his way through the rope. This is going to be a while as the scene fades out to the shadow of Greggo's head moving back and forth, bobbing up and down over Soldier's crotch area, trying desperately to free him from the metal handcuffs grasp.


"After watching the latest driveling promo from the shit stain camp I can't help but wonder if my opponent this week is living in a fantasy land more convoluted and kooky then the one Lux has been living in. Did a tornado sweep up his entire house and place him in an alternate reality with dancing midgets on a yellow brick road and a place where he didn't get pinned to the mat by Robert Main on repetitive occasions? Maybe he ought to slap together his magic glittering red heels and come back to planet earth and realize that he's been nothing but a repetitive loser ever since he came back to the XWF. Does he really think that he's going to keep spewing this same 'I got screwed' nonsense over and over again and that's going to be his proclamation and protest for his asinine deductive reasoning as to why he actually deserves this match?

No, he doesn't deserve it, but the XWF universe finally wants him to shut the fuck up so I'm going to give it to them. Shane fucked him, and now Vinnie Lane is fucking him! Everyone and anyone who's ever been a member of XWF management is fucking him! Does he even have enough orifices to pleasure that many members of staff at once? Wow, he's obviously the biggest whore on the roster in the history of ever! No wonder he's had so many Universal title matches and was scheduled to have YET ANOTHER ONE until he decided to PULL OUT on our triple threat match at Relentless. If anyone is in the back pulling strings by sleeping his way into main event matches, it's most certainly him! Clearly not even Lux can suck that many dicks at one time!

He decided to back down from the match. His choice everyone, nobody else! Is he really trying to connect his own dots by drawing the conclusion that I'm scared because I like to have insane, crazy, and unique match stipulations? I mean, this is the fucking XTREME WRESTLING FEDERATION after all, and not some Mid-South circa 1980's dog and pony show like some shitty fed.

Really, I'm the scared one? Really? I mean, everyone who is anyone can see who the real frightened little soul is in this whole predicament. I mean, your the one who would rather sit up in the stands and run your mouth pretending you were good enough to actually stand in the ring with me and Robert Main. YOU HAD THAT OPPORTUNITY AND YOU SAID NO! My unique and clever match stipulations make me the pussy? YEAH RIGHT!? Cowards back down from a fight, so don't try to walk your way out of that one, shit stain! You're back peddling so hard that the chain is starting to fall off of the bicycle you hypocritical piece of trash. You saw him already start to make excuses for when he loses this match too. "It all came together too easily and so something smells fishy, it's probably a trap, how will XWF management fuck me over this time! LIONS AND TIGERS AND BEARS, OH MY!" Get over your fucking self you egotistical ass wipe.

I hope that one day I'm around if you ever win a briefcase. It's doubtful since you can't go a month without losing a match, so I can watch you turn that mother fucker right back into Vinnie and proclaim how 'cheap' they are and how big of a 'loophole' it is for mid-card talent to get over. I earned the briefcase. I cashed in the briefcase. I pinned Robert Main. TWICE... and now I'm the Universal Champion. All those items I just listed off are probably somewhere on your bucket list with missing checkmarks next to each accomplishment that you likely won't admit for fear of being exposed to how pathetic you truly are.

Any fucking wrestler in the XWF would have done the exact same thing as me, so what in the fuck are you trying to actually prove here? Soon, all these dreams and wishes of yours will become nothing but a laundry list that you'll sneak off and discard in the trash can while nobody is looking, just like you did the fake Universal title that you kept carrying around when I cashed in on Robert Main and became the Universal Champion.

Keep trying to hide the fact that you're actually worthless and stupid because that's my job is to expose your hypocritical horse shit. Just like I did to Robert Main when I revealed his dark and dirty secret about how he became Universal Champion. You like to say that you 'softened' him up for me because that's a convenient little cliche' that makes you think you're special. We're about to have a mother fucking wrestling match and not open up a jar of pickles you stupid bastard. That's the same thing someone would say to their one-armed girlfriend who opened the jar to make them feel better about themselves after they struggled to get a delicious slice of Kosher Dill!

If my match stipulations and goofy horseplay are repetitive and boring to you, then how do you explain this constant 'I got screwed' rhetoric you keep blasting over and over again? You may not think that little story has lost its spark by now, but the rest of us certainly have. I mean, look at poor Lux for crying out loud. Giving up his Television title months ago for a shot at the Universal title and he still is waiting patiently on the sidelines. Not whining. Not complaining. I mean, Vinnie Lane says I'm always the one around here throwing temper tantrums when I don't get my way.

But I officially declare shit stain here the winner in the temper tantrum category! Let's just combat all of his excuses here quickly with logic and reasoning here. When I accepted your challenge did Vinnie Lane refuse it? When you got pinned to the mat by Robert Main was Vinnie Lane holding down your shoulders? Did Vinnie Lane steal your first born child? NO! The only XWF conspiracy here is how the same shitty wrestler keeps getting these same big main event matches yet he fails to capitalize time after time.

He says that he's going to be my biggest competition thus far, but the way he keeps talking about things and spewing such nonsense, I'm beginning to wonder if drezdin isn't going to be my biggest battle of mental wits thus far! He's soooooo damn caught up in 'defending the honor of the wrestling business' that he can't even spend the time to sit down and actually watch one of my fucking promos where I let him have exactly what he wanted. Yeah, you've mastered this game alright, you egocentric fucking nitwit!

You're so smart and ahead of the curve on me, yet after watching your most recent promo it's obvious you still haven't seen a single one of mine where I gave you all the terms you wanted! No guns, no knives, no cages, no cells, no rape, no dildos, no c-diff! Just you and me and a wrestling match. A plain old wrestling match with an upgraded 'I quit' stipulation that forces you to admit what a whiny little bitch you've been for the past few months to Peter. You find it amusing that I won't meet you in the match that you want but I'll give drezdin the match he desires?

I think it's funny that he can pay closer attention to me and follow along in this game of back and forth banter then you. I also find it hilarious that you can't even pay close enough attention to see that you constantly keep shooting yourself in the foot in this retrospect every time you come out here and cut a promo ignoring this fact that I've given you exactly what you wanted. You better come out here the next time and address the 'I'm a bitch and I quit' match stipulation before I keep humiliating you, left and right by your ignorance of the entire matter. Watch, the next promo he cuts he'll be ripping on me again for my crazy and insane match stipulation that heavily favors me in that Hell in a Cell match that I canceled due to his crybaby antics, mixed with a load of stupidity. THE SAME MATCH HE WAS SCHEDULED AT RELENTLESS AGAINST ROBERT MAIN!

I'll give you exactly what you want. SATAN! knows the rest of the XWF is sick and fucking tired of all your excuses after you lose, so no more of them after this shit head! Maybe that's why he doesn't realize how annoying and sick and tired everyone is of him. Because he's so trapped in his own little world that revolves simply around him, he's actually unaware of the rest of us. Probably too busy looking at himself in the mirror to watch somebody else's promos.

That was really cute and clever when you finished your last promo keeping a running tally on what you think is some kind of imaginary scoreboard inside that silly little head of yours where you 'think' you keep winning. I hope you're really good at counting because you'll be laying on your back counting the stars dancing around your head when I'm done with you. This imaginary tally board is just more evidence of this psychotic egocentric view you keep projecting on yourself, but can never quite reach within this realm of reality.

What clever and unique way will you come up with to end your next promo? A fucking RICKROLL! Yeah, because that will really prove how unique and ahead of the curve you are on me! HAHA! Oh, or maybe you'll pull some amazing MASTERMIND shit by wearing a bunch of t-shirts with stupid sayings on them that only a freshman frat boy would find funny, or a teenage girl shopping at a 'Justice' or 'Claire's' store in the mall. Please, for the love of SATAN!, save yourself some dignity and just go away and die like you should have done years ago. Or just keep yawning so that you can go to fucking sleep for good! Time to put this old condescending cliche' cockamamie horse shit out to pasture!"