FACE





The water split around his body as he emerged from the Gulf. The sun was up now, though it was still early. People were beginning to file onto the beach. The parasail companies had already begun to set up their booth and pull the jet-ski's and banana boats down towards the water. As his feet stepped onto the sand and it began to stick to the wet skin, he walked towards his sandals which were sitting on a towel. He had tried to end it, tried to see if he could, and fate wouldn't let him. He was here for a reason. Fate brought him back to the surface because he had unfinished business to take care of. He still had a lot more chaos left in the tank.

Slipping on his sandals and throwing his XWF=CHAOS tee shirt on, he walked up the beach towards the main strip on Clearwater Beach. Walking past one of the workers for the parasail company, Chris was able to make eye contact. There was something he could see in this man, whether he wanted to or not. The man's eyes told the story. His face was a novel. Years of the suns abuse made it look more like a leather bag than a human face, and his eyes were sunken and deep. He was in debt. Most of the parasail companies are here for the winter and head north for the summer, to take advantage of the tourist seasons, but the ones that were here year round often lost money during the early summer months due to only locals being on the island. But either way, they came out everyday, and they did what they had to do to survive. They never quit, because they couldn't quit.

His eyes told the story. His wife was probably getting ready to leave with the kids and he spends his days on the beach drinking and his nights at the local bar scene drinking away whatever profit he was able to scrounge up. His eyes told Chris that he was going through the motions, but really had no motivation to do anything else to better himself.

As Chris passed the man, he nodded. The man didn't nod back, his eyes were straight ahead. Dead eyes.

The same kind of eyes that Jim Caedus had. Eyes that told a story but kept it hidden behind pupils.

This man was the face of the parasail business during the summer time. Was this really a face people wanted to see? Was this a face that exploded with confidence and made people want to buy a ticket? No, this was a face that told people "holy shit, this guy might try to kill me". Bad business. The same kind of face that Jim Caedus had. Bad for business. Did he have the face of a champion?

The same kind of face that Thaddeus Duke had.

Did he have the face of a number one contender?

Chris had gotten up to the strip. People were out and about. Mostly locals with a sprinkle of tourists. His sandals made a smacking sound on the concrete. The breeze ran through his golden main. He could see himself in the reflection of many of the shop windows. His black XWF=CHAOS tee, red swim trunks. Black sandals. His hair was down, left free to blow in the Gulf breeze and dried from the salt air. Every single shop was beginning to open, and the birds can be heard chirping their poetry.......seagulls had such great poetry.....

He could breathe easy for the first time in a long time. For the first time in a long time, he was the underdog. He didn't have the pressure of being expected to dominate. He could surprise, shock the world, and could be the talk of the wrestling world. He finally had a chance to say that he had nothing to lose.

As he walked, he looked into the sky. Bright blue, light blue, with no clouds to be seen. A beautiful Florida day. Thaddeus Duke had busted his ass, beating everyone he faced---including Chris in the process---to become the number one contender to the title. Chris was on the outside looking in. He had wondered if he would ever get his shot again. Then he joined AX3, and that was his in. It was only a matter of time before he caused enough chaos and pushed enough buttons. Honestly, what had he done lately to deserve where he was at? He played Theo like a fiddle, that's what he did.

When he broke the rules and interefered in the Jenny Myst vs. Joshua Reno match, he knew damn well he was putting his Pay Per View shot on the line. But he didn't sweat it.

Trust the system.

He knew that if he could make AX3 look like they were imploding, Theo couldn't help himself. He (Theo and the rest of the sell outs) hated AX3 so much that he could and would take any opportunity possible to split them for good. So when Chris made it known that he was coming for the title that Jim Caedus stole and didn't deserve, Theo was like a kid in a candy store. He put Chris in this match in order to drive a wedge through AX3, but what he didn't realize was that Chris was going to win the belt, kick Jim out of the group, and AX3 would be stronger than it ever had been before............

More......Chaotic.

CX3.

Chris smiled to himself as he turned the corner. JB's was the breakfast spot that all the locals knew. Great coffee, good food, reasonable prices.

Chris pulled a chair out and sat down. Grabbing a menu he leaned back in the chair.


"Sir....can I getcha somethin' to drink?"

It was a pleasant voice. A soft voice.

He moved the menu away from his face and looked up to meet the gaze of a set of baby blue's sitting on a brunette head. Pretty girl, but like the beach man, face was a bit weathered. There weren't noticeable wrinkles, but you could tell she was stressed behind the smile.

She had bills to meet, and she wasn't meeting them. She was a single mother trying to support a newborn and perhaps a toddler, but really had no valuable skills other than a charming personality and the ability to pour drinks and carry plates. Her eyes told the story. She took the bus here, because she had to. Her car was in the shop---it was always in the shop---and she needed to get down to the beach to work even though the tourist season was long over. She didn't have the money for a taxi but if she needed to she would.

Her heat and lights were probably close to getting shut off. She was on her 4th extension.

"Yeah, hun, you can. I'll take a grapefruit juice. Thanks."

She smiled, writing it down. "I'll be back in a jiff for ya food order, kay?"

She smiled at her. She smiled back. Walking away he could see her ass in her shorts. Nice ass. Too bad the front was covered by an apron. His eyes followed until she turned the corner and inside.

Just as he was deciding what he wanted to eat, he heard a car pull in. Black Mercedes, 24 inch stainless steel rims. The plate said SENSAI.

Bruce.

The car sat in a parking spot for what felt like hours, but in reality was only about a minute and a half, until the door opened. A leg stepped out. Sandals, board shorts followed by a silky Hawaiian shirt. The old bastard still dressed nice. Chris watched as he walked all the way up the entrance to the porch, turned, walked to Chris's table and sat down. No hand shake, no hug, barely any eye contact.

Just as he grabbed a menu, the sweet voice was back again. An audible thud as the juice was set on the table.

"Welcome to Detroit Coney Island, can I take your drink order sir?"

Chris cut him off before he could answer.

"Whoa whoa whoa, what?! Detroit Coney Island? This is JB's."

She smiled. Her teeth were white but he could tell she was a smoker.

"No....hunny. JB sold the place. Been DCI for some time now. You must not be from here."

Bruce grumbled, "he lives in Belle Harbor, he's just an idiot. I'll take a coffee, toots, cream and 4 sugars." She smiled, writing it down and walking away.

Chris stared at Bruce, the man he once looked up to as a father figure. His old trainer. His 'best friend'.

"So, you decided to show up, eh?"

Bruce took the small jelly packet in his hand, twisting it through his fingers. He wouldn't look at Chris.

"I was beginning to think maybe the old man lost his balls."

"You know I have health problems, Chris."

He stared into the face of Bruce, who still refused to make eye contact.

"You've had health problems for years. You've never abandoned me before."

The word abandoned seemed to strike a cord. Bruce flinched at the word.

"Did you ever think that maybe it was because I care way too much?"

Chris scoffed.

"I saw what you were becoming, Chris. And it wasn't a good thing. That gold went to your head. You began to slack. You began to cut corners. You were becoming everything you hated, and you didn't even realize it."

Chris looked out at Mandalay Avenue. He wasn't trying to hear this.

"Your confidence had turned to arrogance. Your skill was diminishing because you refused to practice. You didn't give anyone else credit. I knew Gabe Reno was going to beat you and I knew how much that belt meant to you. I couldn't sit back and watch you further implode."

"So you just leave------"

"You gentlemen ready to put in a food order?"

She set Bruce's coffee on the table in front of him.

"Yea. I'll have the scrambled eggs and toast. Rye, with jam and butter both on it."

Chris exhaled deep, tapping his fingers on the table.

"Over easy. Hash-browns. Side of bagel, with butter on it. And another juice."

She smiled, collecting the menu's.

"Well, things have been rough yes, but I am a champion now. And I will be the champion again."

Bruce nodded.

"I've been watching."

"So you know a bout the match I have coming up at the Pay Per View."

"I know everything. I also know that if the Chris I have seen lately shows up to High Stakes, Jim Caedus and Thaddeus Duke and going to rip you limb from from. They are going to tear you apart."

Chris was gripping the edge of the table. He didn't want to hear this but inside, he knew Bruce was right.

"If you want me there, you need to make me a promise."

Chris exhaled, more like a sigh, and nodded.

"I need you to get back to that place. That place you were in back in December. That extra gear, that other level. I need you to get back to the place you said you'd never go again. THAT is the Chris that won the chamber.....THAT is the Chris that will win in Vegas."

For the first time this conversation, Bruce made eye contact.

"If THAT Chris comes out, and you can promise me, I will make the trip to Vegas."

Chris didn't say a word. The food came. The two men ate in silence. When the plates were empty Bruce got up and threw a $100 bill on the table. The bill was $21.50.

Chris watched as he walked away, got into his expensive car, and drove away. Chris sat there for what felt like hours, but in reality was about only a minute and a half, and pushed the chair up, knocking it over, and walked down Mandalay Avenue.

The server watched him walk away, beaming over her tip with a moist spot in her underwear. If only she knew....

---

---

Walking with his hands in his pockets he passed the fishing docks. He saw the men on the boats, the workers, the captains, the oceanic serial killers.

The boats who hadn't gone out yet were full of fresh faces. Faces of hope. Faces that hoped they would have a good haul today. More fish meant more money. More money meant more fish. It was a cycle.

Their faces looked like Thaddeus's face. Fresh, full of life. Full of optimism. Full of delusion. These men EXPECTED to catch fish, but you don't always. That is why its called fishing and not called catching. But they lived in a world were they made the rules. They thought they shapes their futures but they were subjects of fate like everyone else.

Thaddeus needed to learn about fate, reality, and.......chaos.

The end of the dock had a different scene. These were the boats who were back. Some had a huge haul, bodies upon bodies of dead animals. Animals who were minding their own business this morning and were going to be in the bellies of humans this evening. Animals who couldn't defend themselves and did nothing but do what they do everyday.......eat.

Eating is just a process of reality. Of life.

But so, as Thaddeus's career would find out, was dying.

This time he didn't look at the men's faces. He looked at the fish's faces. Panic, fear, satisfaction, confusion, delusion, contempt, anger and joy all in one. Deep eyes.

Dead eyes.

He knew what he needed to do.

---

---

Bruce was sitting in his recliner chair, watching the Rays game and complaining about how much they suck. He had his flask of Jim Beam next to him and a glass of ice.

There was a small bang in the back of the house, near the garage. His head whipped around.

Silence.

He exhaled, it was probably nothing.

After another few minutes he heard what sounded like a bang again. Turning back around he decided to get up. Walking to the garage he opened the door. His Mercedes was in there, but nothing that looked like it would create a bang noise.

Grumbling to himself he sat back down in his chair. There were 2 outs in the 8th inning, Evan Longoria was up to bat, when suddenly there was a hand over his face.

A force he had never felt before yanked him back. The chair tumbled over, his cat took off. In a split second his body was on the floor, a pain shot through his back. He felt coldness on his neck, a metallic coldness.

When he opened his eyes Chris was on top of him with what looked like a steak knife. He pushed it down.

"Chris....." coughing......

The look in Chris's eyes was a look he'd seen before.

Chris pressed the knife further down, drawing a little blood.

"Chris......." he choked out again.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't leave you here in a pool of your own piss and blood". He was almost snorting the words.

"Because......" cough, cough...."You....are.....ready. I'll---I'll, I'll be in Vegas."

He'd be in Vegas alright, but he would be in Vegas with a scar on his cheek. When Chris left he got into his black Jeep Wrangler Sahara and looked into the mirror. His eyes weren't his eyes.........but he'd seen them before.

THIS was the face of the XWF, the face of the Universal Champion, the face of chaos.

He was ready....... For the first since December......he could see it in his own face.

---

---

The 18 Year Old 3 Year Old Who Like's To Play Pretend Said:A real man changes and adapts and THAT is what you saw against Jenny Myst. I allowed her to kick my ass because quite honestly tossing your cum dumpster around like a rag doll for ten or fifteen minutes isn’t my idea of a good time. Beating the hell out of someone so obviously inferior to my talent level isn’t what makes me tick. So I let her show off. I let her work. I gave her the opportunity to show the brass what she got. Through the entire match, the entire time she was kicking my ass do you know what I was thinking? I was thinking that I couldn’t use my main finish and I was trying to figure out what I was going to do to finish her.

"That is a long, long quote, but it just proves further my point of how much of a stupid bitch you really are. Maybe you have an 18 year old's body but the brain of a 3 year old? That is so typical, playground nonsense. I have seen it before. "I let her do it. She only did it because I let her do it." What about if she had won? Would you have let her do it then? "I let her win". That is what kids do on the playground when they are the foursquare champion and some girl comes in and gets a better score then them on the first try. "She was a girl, I let her do it. I could have crushed her but I didn't want to." XWF....THIS is the man you want to be your champion? A man who "lets" a woman who weighs as much as one of my legs to whoop your ass for 15 plus minutes and just happens to get lucky enough to lock in a finisher out of desperation? THIS is the man you want to be the face of your company? Beating up on someone below your talent level isn't what makes you tick? Why not? I think it is fun, personally. Hell, I am on the road and on tour with this company 300 days a year, I am bound to beat on SOMEONE under my level. I need to have a little fun. But hey, maybe it isn't for everyone. But let me ask you, Thaddy, is Jenny really below your level? She looked pretty evenly matched with you to me. Hell, she was able to hit both finishers. AND, not just that, but apparently you only like the big time, prime time matches. So, you let the talent under you kick your ass for as long as they see fit, but you only show up for the matches against the big names? And even then you wind up barely scraping it out, or losing. You are truly an enigma, Thaddeus. You are a tough one to read. You want to flap your gums about "seizing power" and "earning what you have" and being "better than you"......how was what you did "seizing power"? You were SUPPOSED to beat Jenny. And you were supposed to beat her convincingly. No, she beat you from pillar to post and you managed to escape because she isn't trained enough to know when her kill should be eaten, and wants to play with it some more. She had you dead to rights and out of desperation you locked in a submission just to survive. Oh, but wait, you LET her do that, right? For god sakes, Thaddeus, you are the number one fucking contender. You should have ran over, around and through her. But you are the favorite to upset Caedus and take the richest prize in the industry? No wonder this company is going down the tubes.........."

The XWF's Resident Teenage Toddler Said:A real man changes and adapts and THAT is what you saw against Jenny Myst.

.

"No, what I saw was someone who isn't as good as he says he is. I saw someone who is vulnerable, someone who can be beaten by damn near anyone on any given day, and someone who knows inside his heart that maybe he isn't cut out for the top of the wrestling world."

The Universal Champion is the face of the franchise. They are the quarterback to the team. They are the image that everyone sees and knows. Jim Caedus does not belong as the face of this company. He doesn't belong as the face of any company, really. I mean, maybe BAWF, The Bucktussle Alabama Wrestling Federation. Or the WMWF, The Wal-Mart Wrestling Federation. How can we allow someone who looks like they would get into a fist fight in a Goodwill parking lot over a parking space be the face of the greatest professional wrestling organization on the planet? How can we allow a man who looks like is homeless to carry around a belt that means more to any person who ever strapped on a pair of boots than anything else in the world? How can we allow a man who looks like his mother and father were brother and sister to hold our top belt? Do you get the hint yet? Do you understand my point? There is more to being the Universal Champion than getting into the ring and throwing bodies around. There is a certain image that goes with it. A certain stigma. A certain defining characteristic. If this were a quail hunting federation, or a duck calling league, Jim Caedus would be witout a doubt the top pick. But it isn't, it is professional wrestling, and in the age of social media where everything is seen by everyone, it is only best for business that your top champion is also your best looking superstar.

That just happens to be me.

I look the part, I fit the image.



Thaddeus Duke, ha. This boy-band looking tool? Nobody would take us seriously with him as champion. Sure, he would look good on lunchboxes and Capri Sun packets......but as the face of a company with extreme in the name? Not so much. Thaddeus Duke belongs wearing a cardigan sweater and boat shoes and selling real estate in Malibu, not heading the most bad ass wrestling company on the planet. Thaddeus Duke is the XWF version of the "Cash Me Ousside" girl......talk and talk and talk......then fade away into the abyss. What has she done since her Dr. Phil appearance? Nobody talks about her anymore. She came on, looked like an idiot, and then disappeared. Thaddeus opened his mouth, looked like an idiot, and like her will disappear.

You can tell a lot by faces. You can tell a lot by looking someone in the eyes. I see something when I look into the eyes of both of these men. I see fear. I see doubt. I see a sense of hopelessness. Neither of them have experienced this before. Jim Caedus, sure, he's held gold, but nothing to this magnitude. He isn't ready for this level, and the tough, calloused exterior is beginning to crack and spider on the inside like fragile glass. Why do you think he hasn't opened the hole between that unwashed beard yet? He doesn't know what to say. He is panicking. He knows his "I have a bigger dick than you. Fuck, fuck, homo, rape, ass, piss, I'm Jim Caedus" routine isn't going to cut it this time. And Thaddeus, he is shitting his pants right now. In his own mind, he is the leader, the emperor of some imaginary army that only he can see, but he knows who he is facing and he knows what I can do. I know what he can do also.....but when he beat me last time, it didn't matter. A match with nothing riding on it. When we faced when I was still the champ....he saw what happened. When I have something to fight for, I am nearly impossible to keep down. Caedus, he isn't ready for the pressure of this. Duke, he doesn't know how to be the top dog. I've been there before, I've lived it. I was the Universal Champion in less than 6 months, it has taken both of you this long to even be in the picture.

Your faces tell the story. You may just not see it.

But the look is deep in the eyes of both of you. Your inner doubt. There is no doubt here......but while we are on a Thaddeus Duke honesty tour, I'll be honest too. I used to be. I was nervous going into my defense against Reno. I wasn't focused because I kept thinking, in the back of my mind, how he just may beat me. And guess what? He did. Not this time. This time I am laser focused. More focused than I've ever been. This match means more to me than any match I've had before. I need to prove myself to to you and show you all that I am what I know inside that I am.......

The best in the world at what I do.


XWF RECORD: 33-10-2
XWF Universal Champion: 1x
XWF Trios Champion: 1x (Current)