Los Angeles –

Roxy Cotton watched the events of Monday Madness in horrified silence. Seeing her man, “Loverboy” Vinnie Lane, emasculated on live television drove her to tears of fear and rage. First seeing him lose his valiant effort in his bid against Gator for the Television Title, then seeing him horrifically dismembered by that same man – a man Loverboy had considered a friend – nearly caused Roxy to have a nervous breakdown.

Spending the evening hours pacing and drinking as the shadows grew longer on the wall, Roxy anxiously awaited the safe return of her fiancé, hoping against hope that he was in good condition. After the bloodbath that had aired on Madness she had called all of the local hospitals but found he had not been admitted to any, so she hoped for the best case scenario.

One thing was certain, however – whenever he did finally make his way back to their apartment, Loverboy was going to be in a terrible mood.

“Baby, I’m home!”

Loverboy’s voice was… chipper? He sounded happy as he shut the door firmly behind him and danced into the apartment, waltzing up to the shocked and, let’s be honest, very inebriated Roxy Cotton and planting a WWII-Sailor-Grabbing-A-Nurse style kiss onto her lips, smearing himself with a streak of her pink lipstick.

“Hey Roxy! You look awesome as always! What are you drinking?”

Loverboy grabs the bottle of whipped cream flavored vodka from Roxy’s limp hand and downs a huge swig, giving her a thumbs up as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down with the swallowing of the liquor.

Roxy, still in shock, stares at the sight of her partner as he stands before her in a seemingly euphoric state; completely antithetical to what she had expected. Against her will, her surprise-widened eyes drift down to the front of Loverboy’s tight jeans as he finishes his deep pull on the bottle and finishes the sip off with a refreshed sounding –

“Ahhhhh!”

Loverboy then wipes away the dribble of vodka from his mouth using the back of his leather-gloved hand, looking at Roxy again and catching the direction of her gaze before bursting into laughter. Grabbing at his ample package, Loverboy makes a honking sound and smiles wide at the incredulous Roxy.

“Dude… you didn’t really think Gator would lop my cock off did you? Come on, man. Gator’s my boy.”

“But… but the match? This week? And… and…”

“And that kind of crap doesn’t happen on Madness, you know that, baby. What’s really more amazing than anything else in the whole incident is that Pest’s dumb ass thought he could just leave comments on Gator’s XWF webpage asking him to chop my dick off and not expect me to see it. Dude actually thought Gator could be bought. What a dipshit, right?”

Loverboy chuckles again, then wraps his arms tight around the waist of Roxy and kisses her deeply. After a moment, Roxy pulls away and looks into Loverboy’s eyes, trying to find a hint of sadness.

“You lost the match, Vinnie… are you okay?”

“Okay? Yeah, of course I’m okay, dude! Did you see the match? That thing was a hell of a spectacle, you know? Gator and me, we stole the show for sure! He got me, man. Nothing to be upset about. Gator’s one of the best in the business, you know?”

“Well… I just figured… I mean, usually you’re pretty bummed out when you come up short.”

“Baby, the TV title is a hell of a responsibility. I wanted to have a great match against a great performer. I did that. I made a fool out of Pest, too. I’m actually kinda glad to not have to worry about defending a low level title week after week, you know? I’d way rather prepare for the Turning Point pay per view and get my name put in the Universal Title mix, where it belongs!”

“I’m really glad you’re looking at it like this, baby… after the way you got so upset after the match with Luca…”

“Luca? Luca was a totally different story, and it’s one that gets a third chapter written this week when the Underground takes its rightful place as the rulers of Madness, and I’m named the MVP. That little wannabe doesn’t even know what race he is right now, he isn’t ready for any of what I’ve got for him. But… uh… first, you and me have to take a little trip.”

“What? Where, Vinnie? You just got here!”

“I know, babe, and I’d love nothing more than to please you with my completely intact and virile penis, but we have to go visit Gator in Boston.”

“I don’t understand…”

“Look. Roxy. This week has been hectic, and the last month or so has been really dangerous and eye opening, you know? Especially with some of the stuff that’s happened to you recently. I don’t trust some of those guys enough to leave you behind right now, okay? And most of the Underground crew are probably already on their way to Seattle. I have to go to Florida for… something… and Gator said it was cool with him if you hung out at his place for a day while went down there, okay?”

“What the fuck, Vinnie? You’re dropping me off like a puppy at a kennel?”

“No! No, baby, that’s what Gator did to us with Todd. This is totally all good, man, just a place for you to chill for a little while I take care of some personal business at my old place and get fully moved in with you, you know? Boring stuff. Trust me, okay baby?”

Roxy looks doubtful, but her skepticism soon drifts away like breath on a cold day when she looks at Loverboy’s smile and sparkling blue eyes.

“Alright, Vinnie. I know you wouldn’t hide anything from me.”

“Exactly! Just like I know you’d never go and talk to Frodo about our personal life together, so even questioning it would be stupid.”

“Ew. The hobbit said that?”

“Yeah. He says lots of stupid shit. It’s like a torrential downpour of shit from that dude’s mouth, pretty much 24/7.”

“I wish he’d just, like, die.”

“We all do. Even his buddies would really like it if he would actually go through with his suicide threats instead of being a little pussy and trying to use them for attention like a middle school goth girl.”

“Hey! I had a goth phase!”

“Of course you did. And you’ll show me those pics as soon as possible.”

“Whatever you say, daddy.”

Roxy winks suggestively as she walks toward the bedroom, her round ass swinging like a pendulum. Loverboy manages to somehow peel his eyes away from her hypnotizing rear end and, when he’s sure she’s walked fully into the other room, he pulls his cell phone out and looks at the messages he received earlier in the day.


Loverboy shakes his head, checking to make sure Roxy hasn’t seen him. Luckily, he slips his phone back into his pocket just as she leans topless out of the bedroom doorway.

“Baby… which bra should I wear to Boston? The purple sparkly one or the pink sparkly one? Oh… were you texting someone?”

Loverboy stutters a bit as he tries to come up with a cover story.

“Uh… it was a weird random number. Someone texted me saying his dogs were in the pool house. Weird, right? Anyway, you should totally go for the pink. You wear purple all the time, you know?”

“Well yeah, it’s my favorite color. I’d wear purple panties if I ever wore any.”

“Baby… This is why I love you.”

“Aw.”






LAX -

Later in the morning, as the sun rises in the East, “Loverboy” Vinnie Lane and Roxy Cotton head towards the security gate at the busy Los Angeles airport; they are set upon by a gaggle of oncoming pre-teen girls whose shrieks of excitement rival pacific whale songs in their pitch and aggressiveness.

“Oh god, Vinnie… everywhere we go we get flooded by fangirls. This is so annoying!”

“Aw, babydoll, it’s my adoring public! This is just the life you sign up for when you’re gorgeous and famous, like us!”

Loverboy steps toward the stampeding herd of rapidly ovulating teen-moms-in-training, extending his arms to his sides and plastering his most paparazzi-ready grin onto his five o’clock-shadowed face.

“Looks like I’ve been spotted! That’s right girls, it’s me, Loverboy!”

The marauding horde of youthful estrogen clamors past, screeching and open-mouthed like a swarm of langoliers. On the far side of the security area, a skinny Latina girl in a hoodie and sunglasses hides behind a cadre of burly black bodyguards, trembling as the onslaught of fame-thirsty pop princesses surround her and start waving markers and posters in a sort of tribal dance of the damned.

“Vinnie, I think that’s Ariana Grande. She’s why the girls are screaming, not you.”

Loverboy scowls and turns back to get into the security line again.

“They’ll be back.”

Suddenly, “Walk This Way” by Aerosmith and Run DMC blares from Loverboy’s pocket, and, under the disapproving eye of the TSA, Loverboy pulls his cell out and answers the call from none other than his friend and partner, TJ Wallace.

“Yo, TJ! What’s good in the hood, dude?”

“You’re still trying too hard, bruh.”

“Whatever. Glad you called, man, you getting ready for Madness? Can you believe the bullshit team Miranda Tigris has going up against us? I mean, motherfucking Maverick? Are you serious right now?”

“I know man, I know. Trust me, I got a lot of whoopass to open up on them bananafags.”

“Banana what? Hey, whatever man, did you see that Frodo already started jerking off to the sound of his own voice?”

“Yeah I seen that. What’s new?”

“True. I wish it was like it was back in the 90s, so we could just tie his ass up to a fence in the desert and forget him, you know? Anyway, check out the kind of crap he’s saying. Out loud, I might add. Here, I’ll send you a clip.”

Loverboy scrolls through his phone for a second, then forwards a video from earlier in the week to Wallace.

(01-05-2015, 01:58 PM) Said: "Vannie Lome, Vinnie Lame, Michelle Tanner, fagboy and shitgirl, all of them work because they achieve the goal of getting under your skin. I succeed there. But you, you fail to ruffle a hair. Because you were just lazy. I'm trying to help better you. Make you something besides the logs that fall from Samuels' ass."

“Isn’t that some of the dumbest shit you’ve heard in your life? This little fucker really thinks that because I acknowledge him from time to time that he matters. He’s like a starstruck Twihard chasing after his latest crush in his ‘Team Vinnie’ t-shirt, you know? For fuck’s sakes, I dispatched him with ease at the Christmas Shove It, and all he can talk about is how I somehow ‘cheated’ to do it. Look at this one.”

Again, Loverboy works his thumb across his phone screen, sending off another video clip to Wallace, who can be heard laughing over the phone.

(01-03-2015, 07:54 PM) Said: "Lane couldn't beat me without held from Feder, and he had to use weapons."

“You see what I’m talking about, dude? The guy is whining about losing to me in a weapons match because I apparently used so many of them. Except that the only thing I hit him with was a snowball. One snowball. I got hit in the face with a fruitcake filled with razors, I went through a table, and he used a trampoline to amp up his little midget dragon punch, but I used weapons. I couldn’t make this shit up If I tried.”

“Vinnie, do you know what time it is?”

”Yeah, it’s 7: 26 AM. So what?”

“Fuck man, couldn’t this wait until a little later? And why did you give Gator my number? I’ve been cleaning Better Todd’s shit all day.”

"Dude, that's your problem, not mine. Just make sure nothing happens to that dog, man, Gator is totally codependent with that thing."

"For real?"

"For real. But dude, listen, we need to get a game plan together. I'm sure that you and me are gonna be on the same page, and Johnny, he's a good kid, but he sometimes does stupid shit, you know? We have got to stay focused and take down Team Tigris this week, dude. I need that MVP."

"Well, what if I'm the MVP?"

"That's cute. Anyway, once I stomp Luca into the dirt once and for all and get that MVP status, you three dudes will get to hang out with the Universal Champion! Awesome right?"

"I mean... yeah, I guess. Can I take care of Maverick?"

"Dude, Maverick is all yours. As long as you don't mind getting shit on your hands. That guy has some serious irritable bowel going on or something. I had to have the X-Treme belt professionally cleaned after I took it from him. Nasty fucker."

"Hell yeah, I'll whip his bitchtitty ass!"

A stern clearing of the throat from the TSA agent alerts Loverboy to the fact that it's his turn to pass through security, and he has yet to remove his silver boots for scanning.

"Sometimes, man, I'm not even sure what language you're speaking... but dude, I've got to go if I don't want to get body cavity searched. I'm not into that shit like Tigris and her band of homos are. See you soon dude!"

"Whatever. Asshole."

Loverboy clicks the phone off and shrugs at the exasperated faces of Roxy and the TSA agent.

"What?"