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DMX-Factor · (06-07-2015)

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XWF Wednesday Warfare 6/10/15 RP #1
"False Gods Among Us"

Characters used: n/a
Characters mentioned: Trax, Hero Xtreme 7.9, NOCMM

XWF.com Exclusive Promo
June 4, 2015

(In an exclusive video found on the XWF.com webpage, DMX-Factor is shown in a dimly lit room wearing a grey hoodie, unzipped, with a white "wife beater" on under, as well as some gym shorts. His hands are wrapped in black tape, and his face can barely be seen. While he has been creating buzz around the XWF, he has lost his first two matches. It's not the kind of start that he had hoped for, but who would? DMX is hopping in place throwing air punches for a few seconds, then speaks.)

DMX: "You must get high of dis, don't you Trax? You live off of takin' shots at people while sittin' comfortably in da home of da man who you paid thousands of dollars to in order to temporarily occupy it. You absolutely enjoy takin' it easy up until it's time to get your hands dirty. And even when dat time comes, you find shortcuts to get da job done. You act like a hustla...but you don't hustle. You don't grind. I made da mistake of thinkin' you were prideful and aimed for a higher goal. And yet there you are, sittin' pretty wit no fear, no conflict, no danger. But you spew whateva propaganda dat pops in your head and pretend like it means somethin'. You pretend like YOU mean somethin'. Like you mean somethin' to your friends. Like you mean somethin' to da people dat watch XWF shows every night. Like you mean somethin' to yourself. Lie to yourself long enough, and you begin to believe da nonsense dat comes out of your mouth."

(DMX walks to his right towards a punching bag hanging from the celing and begins punching it a few times, before continuing his monologue.)

DMX: "See, there's a term dat's used for people like you. It's called 'entitled'. You come in and try to make a name for yourself, and you demand respect and everything else dat you haven't earned yet. We may be hated by da same fucks dat throw racially charged bullshit our way, but see da difference between you and me, da difference is dat even though you won a single match, one dat was fucked up from da beginning, you feel like you're invincible. You feel like you can take on da whole world. Me...yeah...I've lost both of my matches thus far. Even so, I've gained and earned da respect of certain people superstars. Da only thing dat you've got goin' for ya, son, is you have a big fuckin' mouth on you."

(DMX punches the bag a few more times, ending with an elbow. He then headbutts the punching bag before continuing.)

DMX: "Well how 'bout dis, I got somethin' dat can fill up dat big fuckin' mouth of yours. Be careful of wat you ask for. You just might get it. Next week, you have a match wit my boi Ryan Hunter. I'm just gonna tell you right now...dat wat he has planned for you...and believe me, he doesn't plan on showin' any mercy...but wat he has planned for you will be considered mild compared to da can of worms you've decided to open when it comes to me. You made da mistake of runnin' your mouth longer than you can afford."

(As he's speaking, DMX is walking to the opposite side of the room towards a table of miscellaneous items.)

DMX: "So rather than doin' all of dis talkin', let's see wat you got on an even playin' field..."

(DMX looks at a glass jar on the table, picks it up, then studies it momentarily before speaking again.)

DMX: "I need you to listen to me, and listen to me clearly, Trax. Playtime is over. Handle your business wit Hunter however you want. You'll fail, guarantee you dat. But after dat, clear your schedule near da end of da month. If your balls are big enough to fit in your own big fuckin' mouth, then you'd be smart enough to accept dis as a challenge for da next pay-per-view. And just 'cause I'm a nice asshole, I'm gonna let you pick da stipulation. But it won't matter...because no matter wat type of match you pick, no matter wat kind of excuses you might make, no matter how much you think da odds will be stacked against me...I will shatter your existence here...just...like...this..."

(DMX takes the glass jar and smashes it on the side of his hooded head, cutting the slightly exposed part of his taped hand in the process. He balls his hand into a fist and grins a bit. Bearing the pain for a bit, he then takes his hand and grabs a platinum cross, also from the table of miscellaneous items. The cross seems to be a charm from a necklace that DMX typically wears. He takes the cross and closes his hand around it.)

DMX: "You just might need to have a prayer or two answer once I'm finished wit you, Trax. But make sure you're prayin' to da right God, not some phony figment of your imagination. Hero Xtreme 7.9 may think he'll be able to answer your prayers, Trax, but in reality, he's just as lost as you are. I blame da man called NOCMM. I don't know who you are, and I don't care to give a fuck about you, because you're not da one dat I'm facin'. In fact, you're irrelevant to me. *mocking NOCMM* 'So if this monkey is so smart, why is his dumbass bringing me up if I'm irrelevant?' Dat's an incredible question from a third rate shit eater such as yourself. So I'll make it short and sweet so even a Neanderthal like yourself can comprehend it. You're not intimidating. You're not even close to gettin' into da head of someone. You're a waste of breath and a waste of a time slot on an XWF show. It's 2015, racism's no longer in style. Not even Pepperidge Farm thinks racism is relevant anymore. Get wit da times. If you wanna remain entertaining and enjoyable to listen to.....well, honestly, you're a lost cause. Nobody can help your hopeless ass. Even though all of dis is goin' in one ear and out da other, I'll force you to listen. YOU. ARE. WORTHLESS. You have no skill, no talent, and you're nothin' more than a pet owner wit a leash. Exactly wat do you expect me to do wit your client? Are you gonna toss bananas at me and expect me to eat them while Hero Xtreme watches? Or are you just gonna hurl insults at me da entire match and expect it to throw me off my game? Do you remember Swagmire? Sure you do, y'all both were born from da same brother and sister. WOMB BUDDIES! Anyway, he gave me da same kind of welcome as you did. Rumor has it dat he was thrown out by management. But you're not foolin' me. Management allows dis kind of shit to happen. Why do you think da match was billed on da card in da first place? Da reality is Swagmire tucked his tail between his legs and ran off to find another cousin to sleep wit. Wat makes you think dat you're any better? Wat makes you think dat you're able to intimidate me after Swagmire failed to do so?"

(DMX looks at the cross once again, now covered in a bit of his blood from his hand.)

DMX: "It's amazing how people like you make it dis far in life. But then again, you have a false god leading you to wateva promised land he told you about. Take all of da money dat you want from the dumb and faithful. Give them da answers dat you deem important to them, and watch as they crash and burn right before your eyes. It's a shame dat Hero Xtreme 7.9 is an extension of yourself, NOCMM. Because I was really lookin' forward to a competitive match on Wednesday. Guess I'll have to wait another day..."

(The bloody palm of DMX-Factor opens wide, and gravity allows the stained cross to fall to the floor. DMX walks off to the back of the room, out of the shot, as the camera zooms in on the platinum cross charm on the floor, stained in DMX's blood, and facing upside down in the camera's perspective.)

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