Exhale.

Centurion’s career was holding on by a thread as he put his wrestling future on the line against Madison Dyson, a woman he was unsuccessful against in their previous contests. The most recent defeat at the hands of Madison caused Centurion such strife that he had paused everything else - any title hopes, any upward progression, and any potential dream matches - to focus on his never ending hatred of the former King of the Ring. All of that is over now. Centurion has slayed his demons, and can now move forward with the next chapter of his career…

…but not before a little partying.

We open up inside the Cabana Suite of the Sandman Hotel in Santa Rosa, California less than an hour after the end of The Revelry. There, we see Centurion, Ruby, and Nellie all standing around a center island, where several drinks have been placed, as well as some snacks. Centurion is changed and showered, but his face still shows signs of the battle he just waged against Madison Dyson. Into the room steps Erin Morgan, holding a large box. Nellie, halfway through taking a drink, widens her eyes as she sets the drink back down on the counter.

“Oh, right.” Nellie says as she scrambles over to Erin. “Erin went out and bought you a cake. From both of us. For tonight.”

“Really?” Centurion asks, delighted that he gets to engage in some baked goods. “That’s so nice of you.”

“I know this wasn’t a championship match or anything like that,” Nellie continues, explaining herself. “But this is a big moment. I think this can truly be a turning point for you and your career.”

Erin and Nellie slide the cake down onto the counter and Nellie presents it to Centurion, allowing Centurion to open the box. His smile quickly fades as he looks up at the two girls before taking the lid completely off.

“Happy retirement?” Centurion asks, insulted by the lettering on the cake. A horrified Nellie quickly turns to Erin, whose eyes widen before she buries her face in her hands. Ruby, meanwhile, finds the whole thing amusing as she lets out a slight laugh.

“I brought the wrong cake!” Erin embarrassingly yells from under her hands.

“You bought two cakes?!” Centurion yells as he turns his attention back towards Nellie.

“Of course we bought two cakes!” Nellie snaps back. “There were two possible outcomes and I didn’t want to have to gamble on one!”

“Well I’m glad you have a ton of faith in me!” Centurion sarcastically yells back at Nellie. “Why would you bring a cake if I lost the match?! What made you think I would be in the mood to celebrate?!”

“I figured you’d want a sweet treat to help you get over the loss!” Nellie explains. “You love a sweet treat!”

Centurion goes to yell back, but he stops. He looks down at the cake, and then nods. “Yeah, I do love a sweet treat.” Centurion opens a counter drawer in front of him and pulls out a knife and some forks, as Ruby begins searching the kitchen for plates.

“At some point, we will need to discuss your next move.” Nellie says, bringing the attention back to wrestling. “Leap of Faith is coming up, and Sean Parker is looking for a new challenger for the Anarchy belt. We have options now that the Dyson thing is behind us.”

“Leap Of Faith?!” Centurion says in an exacerbated tone. “Jeez, I haven't thought about Leap of Faith in years.”

“Now's the perfect time.” Nellie exclaims. “Reintroduce yourself. You've been toiling on Anarchy for so long that people elsewhere forget how good you are. There's so many moving parts on Warfare right now that you'd be a welcome presence because of your stability.”

“Yeah, sure.” Centurion says sarcastically as he begins to cut the cake. “I don't think “welcome presence” has ever been used to describe me.”

“I've used that to describe you once.” Ruby retorts as she passes plates out to the four standing around. “In fact, I think it's the perfect phrase to describe you. You're…safe.”

“I don't think “safe” is a word you want used to describe you in the world of professional wrestling.” Centurion responds as he begins to dish out the cake.

“I'm not talking about the other wrestlers.” Nellie explains as she grabs her cake. “Fuck ‘em. I'm talking about the fans. It's so hard for them to find someone to attach themselves to, considering most guys are only around for a month or two before fading away completely. The top of the card is a revolving door of wrestlers from other companies.”

“Yeah, but they're talented as fuck.” Centurion mumbles through a bite of cake.

“No one is saying they aren't.” Nellie explains. “But the fans and the media do see it as a bit of an indictment on the XWF that their biggest stars right now are all folks who came in from somewhere else and started to dominate, and the only ones who are set up to challenge them are the former members of the No Good Bastards.”

“Have they broken up?” Centurion asks as he points his fork towards Nellie.

“I don't know, I haven't been paying attention.” Nellie responds frankly. “I think Bobby and TK are still together and a team, but Charlie isn't?”

“I don't think Charlie was ever an official Bastard.” Centurion explains. “I think he was an honorary bastard. Kind of like Michael Graves.”

“No, you're thinking of BOB.” Nellie says in return. “They were all in that together. The Bastards were IN BOB, but Graves was never a member of the Bastards.”

“Right, which I think is what you’re getting confused about.” Centurion retorts back. “I think the Bastards and Charlie were linked because of BOB, but I don’t think Charlie was ever actually a part of the team proper. I think when we talk about Them No Good Bastards, we are exclusively referring to Bobby Bourbon and Thunder Knuckles.”

“You’re all thinking way too much about this.” Ruby says as she places her now empty plate into the sink next to her.

“Be that as it may.” Nellie continues “There’s a giant void in the XWF that needs to be filled right now, and you’re in a perfect position to fill it.”

Centurion takes the final bite of his cake and sets his plate down on the counter in front of him. He chews for a few seconds before answering Nellie. “I get what you’re saying, but I think you’re being slightly over dramatic. Fans want to watch good wrestling. Period. Ultimately, they don’t really care who it is or where they come from. Besides, it’s not like Corey Black and Sebastian Winston Blackburn Blumenthal Everett Bryce The Eighth are no names. The crossover of fans between the XWF and places like Fight and UGWC is huge. But, to the point…” Centurion walks over to another part of the counter where various glasses and drinks are sitting. As he walks, he limps, the pain of his previous, grueling match showing in his gate. “I’m not opposed to the idea in general. Problem is, I can’t really go for the Universal Title. I kinda promised everyone I never would again after my loss at - get this - Leap of Faith.”

“The Universal Title isn’t the “top of the card” anymore.” Nellie explains. Centurion opens a bottle of scotch but stops as he glances over at Nellie with a very confused look. Before he is able to question her statement, though, Nellie continues. “It’s the top title in the company, but the top three belts are all held in such a status right now that you could consider them somewhat interchangeable. The Xtreme and the Television titles have all main evented Warfare recently. All of the current holders of those belts are seen as the top names in the company. So if you win Leap of Faith, you don’t even have to cash in on SEB. You could cash in on, say, Corey Black.”

Centurion lets out a slight laugh as he pours his drink. He turns around to face Nellie as he takes a sip. “Now THAT would be a lot of fun. And history making, I’m sure. Mmm!” Centurion sets his glass back down on the table as walks out of the room. “I almost forgot, I bought some gifts for each of you.” Nellie, Ruby, and Erin all look at each other as Centurion shuffles around a few things in the back room. After a few seconds, he walks back in, holding three gift bags. “I didn’t know if tonight was going to be my last night as a professional wrestler, so I wanted to buy you all something as a thank you for all the work you’ve done with me over the past few years."

Centurion hands the first bag over to Erin, who claps in excitement. She opens the bag and pulls out a seal faced Squishmallow. She lets out an “Eeee!” sound, as if she were a baby dolphin stuck in a fishing net, as she hugs her gift tightly.Centurion takes the second bag and hands it over to Nellie.

“Just what she needs, some more plushies to add to her collection.” Nellie says in reference to Erin as she grabs her gift bag. “Eventually the animals are going to take up the entire bed, and I’ll be forced to sleep outside.”

“Don’t give her any ideas.” Centurion jokes. Nellie takes the tissue paper out of her bag and pulls out a bottle of wine. She studies it, and as she does, Centurion explains. "It’s a bottle of Château Margaux Gran Vin, Vintage Dated 1989. I’m told it’s the best of the pre-acquisition wines.”

Nellie looks over the bottle with awe, knowing exactly what she’s looking at. “This had to cost you about thirteen grand. They won’t export anything prior to 2001.”

“Yeah, I had to go to France to get it.” Centurion says with a smirk. “I never understood you wine snobs. It doesn’t matter what year it’s made - as long as it gets you piss drunk, that’s the only thing that matters.”

“I think the idea is to keep this stored so it appreciates in value.” Nellie says as she looks around the room. “Does anyone have a wine opener?” Nellie opens a few drawers in front of her and finds the corkscrew she is looking for. She jams it into the top of the wine bottle and begins to uncork it. “The flavors also strengthen over time. You have to have a refined pallet in order to truly enjoy vintage wines.”

“Are you saying I don’t have a refined pallet?” Centurion asks.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Nellie retorts as she pulls the cork out of the bottle and immediately takes a swig. She passes the bottle over to Erin before gesturing at the final bag in Centurion’s hand. “Saving the best for last?”

“Well, I hope so.” Centurion says as he looks over at Ruby. “While I know Erin and Nellie are their own people and can do whatever they wish, I know Nellie feels a certain level of responsibility for me as my daughter. The two of them were going to be along for the ride regardless. But Rubs, you truly chose to be here, and have stayed by my side through thick and thin. There are many, MANY times I ask myself why. As I’ve told you often, you can do so much better.” Centurion laughs as Nellie nods. “But you and I, despite how different our personalities may be, have built a bond that I consider to be unbreakable. I love you, truly.”

Centurion hands the bag over to Ruby, whose sunny demeanor starts to become more emotional. She mouths “love you” back to Centurion before grabbing the bag and tossing aside the tissue paper. She pulls out a small box from inside the bag, and opens it to reveal…

…a diamond engagement ring.


“You know, there’s a LOT of people who were upset the night of Revelry.”

Centurion steps into frame, dress shoes clicking against the wood floor. He is on the stage of an old concert hall or theater, dressed in one of his high priced suits, though only the light of the camera seems to illuminate him. He paces back and forth in front of the camera, allowing the sound of his shoes to echo throughout the building.

“There's a whole community of people that would have held a celebration had I competed in my final match. People that think I'm a washed up nobody, a relic of the Bush Administration, an old man who no longer has a place in this business.

Bobby Bourbon…is not one of those people.”

Centurion lets out a slight chuckle as he stops pacing.

“Don't get me wrong, Bobby thinks all of that about me and more. The man sees me as nothing more than a useless dullard. But he didn't want me to retire. Far from it.

See, everyone needs a baseline. A bar in which to cross. Someone or something that you know inside and out that you can compare to other situations that you may come across. I'm that standard for Bobby. I'm the very bottom of what Bobby considers to be a genuine XWF superstar. If he was ranking competitors that he respected, I'd come in last.

But I'd still be on the list.”

Centurion smiles as he returns to pacing.

“Which is why Bobby loves to have me around. He wants to point to other wrestlers and say they're not on MY level, as a way of putting them down and claiming they're nowhere near a threat to Bobby. “You're not me! You're not even Centurion!” I don't know if those exact words have ever come out of Bobby’s mouth, but that's the intention.

Problem is, Bobby Bourbon has yet to prove that he's on MY level.”

Centurion's face turns serious as he turns and faces the camera.

“I understand that Bobby is a whole different person now than he was when we faced each other last. He's lost a lot of weight. He's taken the business more seriously. He's racked up some impressive wins. Meanwhile, I've been over on Anarchy, stuck in a holding pattern and fighting demons. You'd be forgiven if you thought I was the underdog in this match.”

Centurion reaches into his inside jacket pocket and pulls out a matchbox.

“But you see, it doesn't take much to turn around a career, as Bobby well knows. Talent is talent. And all it takes is one little spark…”

Centurion takes a match and strikes it against the side of the matchbox. As he does, the lights in the rest of the building turn on, revealing a perfectly reconstructed theater. The hall is packed with people, who sit forward in their chairs as Centurion smirks into the camera.

“...to make it all come alive again.”

Centurion blows the match out.

“So we find ourselves in very similar situations, Bobby. We both want to send messages. The only difference is the targets. You’re trying to show SEB and the rest of his band of marauders that you’re the true alpha around here. You want to stake your claim for the Universal Title. I get that, and I have no problem with that.

Me? Well, mine is more general. I’m trying to send a message to the entire XWF, and to professional wrestling as a whole. I’m tired of just trending water around here, and the best way to re-establish myself is by beating someone who is very clearly towards the top of the company, and as much as I’d love to dog you, Bobby, I can not deny that fact.

You are the next person to truly challenge for the Universal Title, and when I mean “truly”, I mean you’re the next person that could possibly give Sebastian McMasters Romney Winchester Everett-Bryce The Fifth a run for his money. I’m sure Thad will toss some raw meat to the lion once and a while, but out of all the possible contenders for the belt, you’re the only one who can knock him off.

So beating you would be a real feather in my hat…and would set me up as a contender for one of the other titles. Hmm…”

Centurion paces back and forth, scratching his chin as he thinks about his most recent comments. He looks down at the stage as he speaks.

“What are my goals moving forward anyway? Ok, I beat Dyson. Say I beat Bobby. What’s next? What am I truly building towards? It’s a wonderful question. Obviously I could go for the Anarchy Title again, and I’m sure I will at some point very soon, but that gets boring after a while, doesn’t it? Besides, Sean Parker is a worthy champion and he’s carrying the brand well, so I have no reason to really get fired up to go after him again.

And as I’m sure all of my detractors know, I have bowed out of Universal Title contendership. While there was no contractual agreement made that says I can’t get a title match, I am a man of my word, and I promised I’d never wrestle for that title ever again. So, that leaves me with basically three options.

Option one, find a tag partner and go after the tag titles. Wouldn’t be opposed to that, considering the amount of contenders for those titles can be counted on one hand. I’m sure I could find a hobo outside the stadium and say he’s my tag partner and we’d get a title shot, that’s how thin that division is.

I could go after Jason Cashe and the Television Title. I’ve beaten Cashe before. I’ve never won the Television Title in my career - it’s one of the very few titles that remains off my resume. It makes perfect sense, doesn’t it? In fact, if you were someone who was writing a story involving professional wrestling, I’m sure that’s the exact match you’d put together.

Either of those are good ideas…but sometimes it is what is behind door number 3 that is the most intriguing. The idea of facing someone from the Black Family in a blood, sadistic battle for a championship in the XWF at a pay per view really gets my adrenaline flowing.

No matter what, though, I have to take everything one step at a time, and right now, I’m only on step number two. Step one was to dispatch of Madison and keep my career going. Step two is to reestablish myself in front of a national audience. Step three is winning a title, and step four is, I don’t know…running for president, or something.

There’s going to be a lot of prying eyes watching us on Monday, Bobby. The hilarious part about it, though, is why they are rooting for you to lose, they don’t understand the ramifications of what happens if I win. For them, it might be better for you to win. You’re going to fight SEB regardless of what happens on Monday. You’re going to continue to be on the front line of that battle. A win over me just puts your previous losses behind you, and I doubt those are weighing that heavily on your mind anyway.

But if I beat you - WHEN I beat you? Suddenly one threat turns into two. Suddenly Pantheon looks over their shoulders, not just at Bobby Bourbon, but at Centurion. And I’ll be honest with you, Bobby. I know SEB. I’ve fought SEB.

…he’s going to be more worried about me than he is about you.

After Monday night, SEB is going to be hoping that I keep my promise to the world and decide not to go after him for the title, and Corey Black is going to be hoping that I decide to enter Leap of Faith or go after the one title I have never held. Most importantly, they’re going to be rooting as hard as they can for you to win this match and to send my ass back to Anarchy.

It’s ok, though, Bobby. I’m not here to take away anyone’s opportunities. I could care less if you’re the Universal Champion or not. In fact, I kind of hope you do win it. I would love to see those freaks on Twitter have another meltdown when the poor intern that runs the XWF’s page tweets a photo of you holding the Universal Title. Oh, the crying will be so loud that Joe Rogan will get an entire hour of material out of it.

Ultimately, this match - it isn’t about the Universal Title. It isn’t about Sebastian or Corey or Jason. Honestly, it isn’t even about you, as much as you’d love everyone to think it is. This match is about me. It’s about my return to greatness. It’s about reminding the world just who the hell I am. And Bobby, you get to be a witness, because there will be no Final Fantasy anymore. No, you and Thunder Knuckles…you’ve both inspired me. I’m ready to turn over a new leaf, and I’m ready to show you…

Just how much of a BASTARD…

I can become.”