Pariah crashes through the backstage area with a steel chair, intimidating folks and threatening to "smack them something good" unless they tell him the location of the X-treme Champ. Finally, after minutes of frantic intimidation, Pariah sets his eyes on the champion. 

Then, he sets his chair onto the champion's face! A few smacks later and Pariah rolls up the champ, hopeful for a 3 count.

The gorilla is not amused with any of this. Pariah left and didn't want the Xtreme Championship. Pariah was fair weather, at best, and once Pariah was humiliated again he'd go away. The gorilla watched as no referee had run in to count the fall whatsoever. The gorilla realizes this is his moment.

The gorilla approaches and firmly grips Pariah's left butt cheek in dominance.

Onlookers look baffled, the Xtreme Champion down on the ground after receiving several feather soft taps from a chair, Pariah ensuring he was going to do the unthinkable and unseat the champion in a hallway somewhere, like some loser.

Like Pariah.

The gorilla continues his grope of the left butt cheek.

The onlookers wondered why Pariah needed to be shiny one moment and shit the next when modern medicine treats those types of disorders easily so they aren't debilitating, as though his standing as second best was doomed to become worst and with diminishing returns each time. The depths of the valley stayed the same for Pariah, but the peaks, and the highs, and the times he could shine were only lower and lower each time, until the inevitable burn out set in.

The onlookers are really poetic bitches sometimes. They're also not sure why the gorilla, who wanders freely around in the XWF, stopped here, his hand firmly on Pariah's left butt cheek for a solid five minutes while no referee had still arrived, Corey Black still on the ground underneath.

The gorilla remembers when the Xtreme Title was entertaining.

IS THAT A FUCKING GORILLA

KICKOUT!

Charlie’s seen standing around backstage, watching a monitor that shows highlights of Pariah’s run in the XWF.


Oh the good old days…when just a little bit of makeup and a change of clothes made you feel like a whole new man…

KICKOUT AGAIN ????

Jesus Christ, why are you following me around like a crack whore begging for a fiver? Just let me reminisce in peace, you fucking coke head.

And get up off the floor, you look ridiculous.

"Please James stop following me around and kicking out" 

Shut your bitch ass up hahahaha. If this is the narrative Mr. Hobo wants to play then so be it. Put it in your promo, it'll make em more interesting. 

Look what I can do Mr. Hobo....

KICKOUT