Dudes and dudettes, the rock n’ roll industry has lost a lot of fellow megastars over the years as a result of AIDS. Freddie Mercury, Robbin Crosby, Tom Fogerty, DeBarge, and of course, the awesome Eazy motherfuckin’ E. Because of my obviously deep ties with the music industry, as well as my continued endorsement for wild, unabated sexual promiscuity, I, “Loverboy” Vinnie Lane, have decided to dedicate my upcoming victory at XWF War Games to the millions of people worldwide who have been affected by this total bummer of a disease, man.

You see, although October is traditionally breast cancer awareness month, nobody involved with War Games other than Eli James has any breasts. Ezekiel Carter-Williams V though, my partner and friend, has been battling AIDS for quite some time. Zeke’s strain is actually a pretty weirdly powerful strain too, dude, it’s all sentient and whatnot and turned Maria Brink into a sort of virus-fueled marionette.

So, even though I'm immune to AIDS due to my ancestors being some plague-beating badasses, I realize that not everyone can have superior genetics and a lot of cool people die from lame ass causes. So I'm reppin' the red ribbons for you, Zeke! Don’t give up the fight, and keep reaching for that rainbow!






((As the sun sets through the display windows of an electronics store, a pair of employees is closing up for the night. As the two begin to move towards the door, a hurried and disheveled “Loverboy” Vinnie Lane rushes into the store, frazzled and out of breath.))

Loverboy: Whoa! Dude! And… uh… Mrs. Dude? Maybe? I’m so totally sorry I’m late, man. I Googled “Kiwi Speaker House” to find this place, thinking it would be easy, you know? I mean, how many people can really live in New freakin’ Zealand, right? And how many of them know a good set of speakers from a pile of didgeridoos, you know what I mean? But then I ended up at David Carter’s office in Wellington! I was pissed, dude, but I got a pretty quick lesson in Kiwi civics… did you guys know you have a Queen? And that she looks JUST like the Queen of England? I can’t WAIT to tell Gator, man. So… what do I do?

((The two employees exchange looks, and then the pretty blonde addresses Loverboy with a sassy tone in her thick, New Zealand accent.))

Woman: First of all, we ain’t married. Second of all, didgeridoos are Aussie instruments. And THIRD of all, what kind of dumb wanker can’t just look us up in the bloody phone book, huh? You really cocked that one up, yank! Now out with ya!

Man: Now, hold on, mate, Mister Lane ain’t used to the surroundings in our neck o’ the world, is he? Honest mistake I’m sure, right, mate?

Loverboy: Yeah, man! I’m totally sorry guys… I wanted to come tell your customers how awesome the new Bose speakers are, just like I’m contractually obligated to do by my endorsement deal! I asked some Maori guy how to get here but he just made a bunch of clicking noises and pointed at the sun. I think he was drunk, man.

Woman: Are you shitting me, you fucking drongo?

Man: Relax, now! You don’t want to piss the man off, do you?

Woman: Piss him off? YOU can piss off, mate! He ain’t gonna do nothin’ and neither are you, ya piker!

((The woman shoves her way past Loverboy and leaves the store, leaving just the two guys to talk to one another.))

Loverboy: Dude, you are married to a serious BITCH! I feel bad for you, man!

Man: Christ. We aren’t married, mate.

Loverboy: You sure, dude? Because it definitely seemed to me like she had your balls in her purse, man. You should have spun her out with a pimp hand slap!

Man: You really are a wanker, aren’t ya?

Loverboy: I wish, dude. But I’ve been staying over at my new team captain Mastermind’s house. Er, mansion. You know Mazzy right? International wrestling superstar? Local hero and philanthropist? Yeah, we’re totally friends. I’m only even in this weird, upside-down country to do research for the match with him. It makes sense, too, since I hear Middle Earth is, like, right down the block from his place, and one of our opponents is an actual hobbit. Two of them are trolls, too! Oh, and Peter kicked Frodo into the Eye of Sauron once, too. That was weird. You ever wrestled a midget before?

Man: No…

Loverboy: Well I have, dude. It didn’t go my way, though, because the midget was actually a Batman, and the other team’s captain, Shitty-Face Cockmonger Pest, screwed me over. This guy Maverick who likes to shit on things showed up too, but he’s not in my match.

Man: Look mate, it’s the end of the day. The store’s closing up, and nobody showed up to get your autographs anyway. Do us a favor and take this cardboard cutout of yourself your agent sent us and get on your merry way, alright? I’ve got to get home in time to watch New Zealand’s Got Talent. Literally half of the island’s population is on that show.

((The man shoves a life sized standee of Loverboy into Loverboy’s hands, then holds the door open and stands impatiently. Loverboy shrugs and walks out onto the street, but turns back to the man as he locks up the storefront.))

Loverboy: Alright, dude, but I’m telling you, this cardboard cutout is a pussy magnet! I’m sure if Rachel Hunter or Lucy Lawless saw this thing they’d end up with a bunch of labial paper cuts from straddling it all the way back to their houses in the jungle or whatever. Serves you right anyway!

((Loverboy storms off, walking down the street with the life sized cutout under his arm, when suddenly he run into the youthful pop sensation Lorde! Since she was equally busy storming away from a bookstore with her own cardboard cutout of herself under her arm, she didn’t see the rock n’ roll megastar coming and they run right into each other, each sprawling onto the pavement and dropping their cardboard selves.))

Lorde: Wot? Watch where you’re going, mate!

Loverboy: Dude!

((Loverboy grabs the cutout of Lorde, thinking it’s the actual person since they are both pretty boring and emotionless.))

Loverboy: Lorde! I’ve got to get you to safety, man! Anywhere in the world I go, this lame child molester Pest follows me and tries to ruin my day! You’re just his type of girl, man, since you’re flat and under eighteen! Let’s go!

((Loverboy scoops up both cardboard cutouts and leaves the bewildered musician sitting on her arse on the sidewalk as he runs off down the street, hoping to catch a tram back to Mastermind’s Mansion in time to watch New Zealand’s Got Talent.))






Surprise, surprise, surprise… Mister Shitfed managed to fellate Shane enough to get his way and get me in the ring with him again. Real shocker there, isn’t it? I mean, by now it’s pretty damn clear that Shane’s losing his fuckin’ mind, or maybe he’s developed some sort of disorder stemming from all of those starchy tubers he’s been ramming up his asshole lately. Why else would a guy as influential and allegedly intelligent as Shane let a dick-masked child predator make important decisions like match-ups on a PPV card? Is he paying you, Shane? Or is he just blowing you?

Hell, maybe if I’d have just let ol’ Shaney-boy stick his French fry in my tater-hole I wouldn’t be getting a raw deal by having to face my own new partners two-on-one in order to keep a title I won fair and square. Maybe I wouldn’t have to deal with Pest every day of my life like a bad case of scabies, either. For real, man, I’m pretty sure Zeke’s AIDS are gonna clear up before this chump gets off of my dick.

Pete, man, I really feel guilty for the situation you’re in now, dude. I gave you a championship that you totally deserve, even though you didn’t, like, EARN it or anything, and now because of me you not only have to tag up with that cum dumpster Pest and get your ass handed to you by me once, but you have to get beat up by me TWICE within a week’s time! That sucks, dude, and I really didn’t mean for it to happen that way. Out of all the losers on team Pest, you’re the least losering of them all and I actually respect you, man. Just know that every time my knuckles crack into that asymmetrical face of yours it’s gonna hurt me every bit as much as it hurts you, dude. Mostly because you have the skull of an elephant man, but also because I’ll be sad.

The guys I really feel sorry for though, man, are the two unknowns on Pest’s team. I mean, SWAT? Who the hell is this dude? The guy wears Guy Fawkes masks everywhere he goes like he’s attending the world’s worst Eyes Wide Shut key party, and hasn’t done a single thing in his career other than get lost in the XWF hallways for a week. And Scully? Yeah man, I’m counting you as an unknown. Beating up Todd and bragging about it doesn’t make you a wrestling phenomenon, man, it makes you pathetic. Oh, my bad, you beat Darren Dangerous and Dwight Schrute, too. Real rogue’s gallery of arch-nemesis villains you’ve got there, Superman. You know I beat Darren Dangerous while I was fucked up on cold medicine and while holding in a monster shit? You actually had to TRY. Not really a surprise that you ended up on Pesty’s team though, is it? I mean, you’ve been hanging off his nuts like an ingrown sack hair for weeks now. I’m a little more confused by what he possibly sees in you, unless what he WANTS to see in you is himself, pumping slowly. You know, now that I think of it, Scully, since you have the demeanor of a kid orphaned at birth and about as many friends, if I were you I’d look into teenaged girls abducted from Birmingham back in the 80s, because your “mum” was probably one of Pest’s first girlfriends. Like father like son, right? I can finally see the resemblance between the two of you now that I’m focusing on your cockface.

Nah, the only one of these jokers I’m even slightly concerned with is Frodo. A late entry as well as a late bloomer. I was actually hoping to face off with Samuels and get a little competition out of this square dance, but I’ll do exactly what Frodo’s wife decided to do. Settle. Only thing I have to be afraid of is that little bastard attaching himself to my head like an alien facehugger and wedging that planarian-sized dick into my mouth during the match. I sure as fuck don’t want any half rockstar/half mongoloid babies bursting out of my chest and ruining my weekend while I’m out spending Frodo’s money.

Team Masters versus Team Losers. It’s gonna be a walk in the park, dude. A dirty park full of hobos, but still a walk in a park. Can’t wait to see you five size queens there, man – bring your wallets.