Moscow, Russia
September 17, 2014
10:17 PM

Moments after Woe has lost his match, he walks to the streets of Moscow. He walks along the streets by himself scowling at everything that moves. He walks into a bar named Красная Мерзость. Woe walks up the bar and orders a drink. The bartender looks at him in confusion. Woe points emphatically at the tap and indicates the glasses. The bartender begins making his drink as Woe mutters obscenities under his breath.


WOE: I'm so fucking done with losing. I am GOD DAMN WOE. I am tired of letting foes beat me. Mastermind whenever I am in full force fighting you, you will crumble beneath my toenails. But... it's time for the King of Demolition to take a seat back upon his throne. Because all of these puntos that surround me have no idea the obliteration that is in store for them. Next week, Woe enters the main event, but Australia is where the moronic imbeciles in the XWF realize something. Woe is here for one reason: destruction. I didn't come for petty items such as title belts nor did I come to the XWF to win over the fans. I came to Warfare and the XWF to make everyone squeal Uncle.

Woe takes the drink that the bartender hands him, lifts his mask over his mouth, and chugs it down quickly.

WOE: Ahhh. Nothing beats drinking a beer to settle your nerves after yet another loss. It also helps me... stay balanced between treatments. Speaking of treatments, I'm all out. Nothing remains in this tank on my back but air. Bishop is supposed to be calling me when the plane drops down.

Woe pulls out his cheap flip phone and checks it. No New Messages is shown on the screen. Woe sighs and asks for another beer although the process is arduous.

WOE: A few more beers and I will be inured from the side effects of going too long without Toxin-7. Unless something drastic happens that is. Something to set me off.

Woe raises the mask to his nose and chugs the beer again. The bartender refills it and Woe chugs it too. Woe belches extremely loudly and the bartender makes gagging motions as the smell is absolutely revolting.

WOE: Whether it's the destruction of bodies or nasal cavities, Woe demolishes it all.

Woe laughs boisterously and slams the glass down on the counter smashing it to pieces. The bartender then begins yelling at Woe in Russian. Woe grabs him by the cuff of his shirt and thrusts him backwards into the bottles behind him. Three fall down and smash at his feet. The bartender now seems even angrier as he begins pointing and screaming at Woe. Woe smirks at the man as he picks up another glass and shatters it as well. The small man spits and hits Woe on the mask. Woe frowns and lowers the mask over his face. He stands up to his full 6'8" displaying his imposing stature. The man seems unimpressed as he pulls out a shotgun and aims it right at Woe's head. Woe grabs the shotgun and smashes it over the bartender's head in what seems like a flash. The others at the bar slowly began leaving as the altercation commenced. Woe walks around to the other side of the bar and picks a few bottles and begins chugging them. He finishes the second bottle and he's now staggering. His phone begins ringing. Woe looks at it as if it's an alien with three heads. He lifts it up and finds the green button.

WOE: Hola?

The expression on his face changes from happy drunken glaze to a more mortified look spreading across the face of Woe. He slams a fist into the bar counter and breaks a hole from where his hand was. He instantly seems to be back to sober. He leaves the bar with the last bottle of Vodka and begins walking down the street. An officer's police car flips on its lights as it pulls over beside Woe.


OFFICER: Стоять!

WOE: WHAT?! I didn't steal a yak! Just Vodka!

Woe keeps walking on and the officer runs up behind him still yelling.

OFFICER: Стоять! Вам будет арестован! Вы меня понимаете?

WOE: SHUT THE FUCK UP! German is such an ugly language, but your voice makes it even uglier.

Suddenly a shocking sensation goes through the body of Woe. He stops in his place and turns around. The cop had shot him with a taser gun! Woe pulls the darts out and throws them to the ground. He takes a sip of the Vodka and spits it at the officer landing on his shoe. Woe turns around and begins running at full pace now. The officer continues to yell but is shortly out of earshot. He gets back to the arena and the van is waiting for him. He runs and jumps into the back of it. They close the door and drive off towards the airport. As they get onto the main highway around the city, several black cars begin following them closely. Woe begins asking what the rooks have in the van.

Rook: All we have are ourselves and our bowling bags.

Woe smiles wickedly at the mention of bowling bags. The only thing that Woe lets the Rooks do besides creating Toxin 6 and 7 is bowling. It's team building and Woe has always been beastly at it. He takes the bowling bags and begins removing the bowling balls. He sets them in the floor. He rolls the window down and rolls the window down on the opposite side. He leads his head out and bullets wiz by. He pulls his head back in and picks up a bowling ball. He reaches out as the bullets fly and launches the bowling ball. The car he aimed for moved, but didn't allow enough time for the black car behind it to react. The bowling ball smashed through the windshield and the car went off road. Woe leans out the other window and throws another bowling ball except a little lower this time. This car had no time to react as the ball hit the car directly on the hood and the car stopped instantly. The car behind it instantly smashed into the back of it. Two more cars are following behind them now. Woe lifts up two bowling balls and throws them at the car on the right. The car tries to dodge them but one still hits the headlight and tire causing it to bare right hard and take out the other driver.

Woe smiles and pumps his fists as he vanquished the following band. Woe's smile then turns to disgust. He turns to one of the Rooks.

WOE: Is it true?

ROOK: I'm afraid so, Boss.

Woe scoffs and punches a hole through the door. He sighs and pats his legs.

WOE: Well then it's time to go home.