Hello again, Mister Loverboy!

Congratulations for winning your Federweight Championship, my friend! You know what would be an honor? If the Doctor was the first one you defended that title against. I've actually never seen you in such a prestige state here. Don't get me wrong, I noticed when you held the Trios Tag Titles yourself for awhile, then handed two of them over to Morbid Angel and Mister Gilmour... Excellent choice in partners, by the way. Morbid Angel needs couples counseling and Mister Gilmour is the epitome of idiocy. They're both too stubborn to support a tag team, Mister Loverboy. Just poor choices.

I'm not here to criticize you though. Forgive me.

This is a celebration! Another lower-grade, untelevised, ridiculous excuse to make someone feel special title, for someone special like you. Did you know that I once held this title? I suppose it was never made official. A big ordeal came about when Jacob, you know him as Gator, decided to stop playing with the Doctor and go home. There's a few people out there that would've hopped on the opportunity as title laid at my feet, surrendered.

You all know the story. The title ended up tossed into a nearby garbage can. Which is what I believed what became of it right before then.

Tell me, Mister Loverboy. Do you share the same passion as I did that day? I suppose it is my fault. I expect too much out of my patients at times and it sometimes it gets the best of the Doctor. Jacob let me down, as he has once before. I will never give up on him, there is no doubt. The same goes for you, Mister Loverboy. I feel that you and I have grown and blossomed into what we are together here in this fine organization. You on one side of the map, the Doctor on the other. We have crossed paths once before and you have most definitely felt the effects of a session.

So let me ask you again, do you share the same passion as I did that day? It's not just about winning. It's how you win. It's what you do to win. It's about your opponent. Not just picking up someone else's garbage.. It's earning that victory. It's proving that you belong where you are. I am where I am because I have proved it to nearly everyone that has crossed my path.

But now, I win when I want to. I usually want to. So, if you don't mind, Mister Loverboy..

I want your title.

The Doctor throws a rock and hits the Loverboy in the face with it. He holds his face and pulls out a mirror to check to the state of his mug. In the meantime the Doctor rolls him up for the pin.

Doc, I respect you, but I have to get something off of my chest. So, turn up your hearing aid and pop a squat in the corner.

Listen, Cryptkeeper, I’m not here to gamble my soul on a fiddling contest, I’m here to fulfill the vicarious dreams of the out of shape and hopeless XWF fanbase. Those dreams do NOT include having your liver-spotted skin rubbing on me and leaving me stinking like Ben-Gay and this morning’s early bird breakfast, so please, gently take your withered body off of me before you get your MedicAlert bracelet caught in my wig.

Oh, I have a wig now, did you know that? It’s cool.

Anyway, seriously, get off of me before I show you that the only thing worse for your bones than I am is osteoporosis.

God damn, Doc, up close you know your whole body looks like a shrunken head? That’s not a beauty mark on your lip, dude, it’s a fucking melanoma. You need to start getting more regular check-ups at this age, dude, and I’m not talking about getting your prostate flicked in the broom closet. That guy’s not a real doctor, just FYI. No dude, I’m talking about getting the full round of tests to keep your ticker going – mammograms, pap smears, etc.

If you could just let me move my arm a little that would be cool… I have this phone app that pops up with a silver alert every time you get out of the home, you know, and I want to make sure I do my due diligence and get you back before I get accused of anything shady. Can you believe they bought it when I signed those papers claiming to be your grandson? That insurance is looking pretty sweet.

This reminds me though, I’ve been meaning to tell you… your drumming hasn’t been at all the same since your last stroke. Neither has your wrestling, honestly. I mean, since we tangled all those months back, you fell from grace faster than Lucifer himself… weird, right? I mean, getting taken to the limit by Pest and Austin Fernando? Doctor, doctor, gimme the news… I’ve got a bad case of pitying you.

You got pretty lucky in that rumble coming out as late as you did. You must have sighed with relief when you saw how tired I was by then, huh? Lucky man you are… but right now, I’m the lucky one old timer.

Get off of me dude, it’s time for you to take your pills.


Loverboy kicks out and air guitars.

Yes, yes, Mister Loverboy. I look very old. Has that ever really had any effect on the outcomes though? You like as ripe as a fresh bowl of fruit, my friend, yet, you can barely carry the weight of being an XWF superstar. It's not of youth and looks that gain titles. It's dominance. There isn't a single person in the XWF, that knows better, that wished to step up against me at Warfare. Two gentleman that have no clue what they have gotten themselves into.

I defeated you months ago and I can surely beat you again. Our session all of those months ago was just a opener on the main stage. The show that everyone was waiting for was yet to come.

Main event, after main event, I've blown arenas apart with what I've done. Claiming that I've ever been pushed to my limits is pure poppycock if you ask me. Pest and Austin Fernando fall into the same column as you Mister Loverboy. Victories for the Doctor. No one will ever remember how far Vinnie Lane took the Doctor.

Certainly not.

They'll only remember who came out on top.

Honestly, the session with Pest was only a few short weeks ago at Turning Point. No one even talks about it anymore. I just did what everyone expected. There was no surprise or twisted ending. The Doctor walked away and remained the XWF X-Treme Champion. The same goes for Mister Fernando. A young man oh so very fresh into this fine federation simply trying his luck against the very best. You know, Austin Fernando kind of reminds me of a Vinnie Lane. You both share the same confidence and charisma... You both go beyond what they would call, 'over your head'. And you both now hide behind two certain GMs for Madness. Both so eager to take any means for a victory. Here's a fine example of one of those poor choices again...

I've never seen such a train wreck of dead weight in my entire life when I look at the Underground. In fact, looking from the outside in... I believe I've had my sessions with all of you, haven't I? Mister Lane, Wallace, Knight.. I bigger group of misfits than the Asylum, I'd say. I suppose it wasn't in your poor choosing, however. You were the one chosen by Kirk MacClay to stand behind him among the other GMs. Good luck with your new friends, Mister Loverboy. One thing I've notice around here, you have an extremely hard time keeping them.

Tell me more on how you pity the King.

The Doctor pulls out the red haired Dusty Rhodes he used to escape a pin earlier and smacks the Loverboy over the head with him several times. After pounding the Loverboy into the ground like a railroad spike and tee's up and swings! The Loverboy flies out of the hole, does several back flips in the air and lands on his feet! The Doctor then spear chucks the red haired Dusty Rhodes at him knocking him to his back! The Doctor goes for the pin!

Mega.

It’s megastar, Doc.

I don’t want to keep fighting with you, dude, especially after you just made me feel all warm and fuzzy by saying I was pretty. You should watch out though, man, people will figure out just how light those loafers are if you keep squeezing on this fresh fruit here.

It’s just weird to me, you know, that you mention the importance of winning titles when here we are, me defending, you pursuing. You think the Feder is a meaningless bauble, a cheap trinket, something for a rube – and you’re right! I mean, we all saw when I came to collect it from the little guy that I was just doing it to point out how simple it was for me to do versus how insurmountable the task of collecting one single accolade of any meaning whatsoever seemed for Austin Fernando, right?

Meanwhile, you’ve got a meaningless crown and a shiny briefcase guaranteeing that someday you’ll take the easy way to a cheap title reign, and you marched right up to have another worthless accomplishment like this added to your resume. It’s the passive aggressive equivalent to pissing into the wind, man.

I know what you’re trying to do, by the way, comparing me to Fernando… you think drawing a comparison between me and my opponent will get into my head, shake me up.

No.

You’re right. He’s like me. He’s the toast of the town and got the attention of the right people at the right time. The thing is though, he won’t make it last whereas I will.

You might also be right about no one else remembering when you and I went the distance. The thing is though, I’ll remember. I’ll remember the way your breathing changed when you got tired, the way you started to move slower, the way your eyes watered, the way you started to give up. To be sure, you dug deep and caught me off guard but Doc… dude… that kind of thing doesn’t happen twice, man.

Doc, your reputation is what’s keeping that X-Treme Title around your waist, not your ability. You said yourself how disappointed you were that people didn’t flock to your challenge. No one even bothers pinning you anymore, for the most part. You’ve got it easy. Anyone can hold a belt when no one worthwhile tries to take it from him.

And dude, ease up on the Underground cheap shots, okay? Don’t me angry that someone else has friends while you’re sitting by yourself at the lunch table by the bathrooms.

Do me one favor before we’re done here for the night, okay?

Tell me how you lost the eye, Cyclops.

Loverboy kicks out and kips up, tossing the Dusty doll aside after catching a whiff of ladies' perfume on it. He then goes to the microwave and heats up some popcorn, wondering if it will interfere with D'Ville's pacemaker.

So we seem to agree pretty much on everything, right?

Cheap trinkets and meaningless bauble, indeed. That goes for most of the things around here then, doesn't it? Like my meaningless crown... And my shiny briefcase... I'm not sure why you would have an issue with the rules of the briefcase and when someone would take a advantage of those. I can remember a time when you were chasing the X-Treme Title and the briefcases that follow. Until your dreams were shattered and you gave up. The cheap way of becoming Universal Champion... Give me a break. You only believe that because your currently the Number One Contender for the title. Does it make you nervous that one of your adversaries threatens your chances as the next Champion? Goodness, it's taken you this long to get the recognition and shots that you've deserved long before hand, imagine if you screw this up? It could be months and months before your next chance!

This Federweight Title though? It's all fun and games. Watching the way fellows like Maverick squirm around and chase a title such as this, while MEGA stars like you and I dangle it from above.

Don't think I was trying to upset you by all of the things I said. The comparison I made between you and Fernando were not to get a rise out of you at all. I suppose I was just stating the obvious, you know? Coming off a victory over the young man, who would know him better than the Doctor? I did forget one minor detail though. Something you probably care very little about since it's also been thrown in your face. The Superstar of the Month Award.

I don't believe they have a "Megastar of the Month" though. You may be out of luck there.

My reputation does most definitely proceed me. Is it solely my reputation that has kept this X-Treme Title tightly around my waist? Possibly. Could something else play into no one else jumping up to challenge me?

Fear, most likely. Fear of losing. Fear of being hurt. Many have stepped up with their banter, ranting, and doggerel. All put back in their place, within a blink of an eye. These competitors that have pushed my limits, Mister Loverboy, you do count yourself as one, do you not? Pushing me that far does not count any differently in the end, you are still just another tally in my win column. Just as the many competitors that have followed you.

I do hate when you change the subject, but since you asked, the story behind my eye is a deep one. I could just tell you how I lost it, but what fun would that be. I'm going to say you'll just have to continue tuning in, and the Doctor will someday tell the story. As for now, let's focus on what's at hand here.

I still want you title. So hand it over, Mister Loverboy.

The Doctor throws the microwave at Loverboy, which misses him. Instead, he pulls a rug out from under the champ and pins him when he falls!

I really wanted that popcorn, dude.

Doc, you got me all wrong, man! How could you think those things about me?

I don’t think there’s anything WRONG with the briefcase cash-ins… I mean, without them, guys like Steve Davids and Theo Pryce would never get to have a moment in the sun, right? We wouldn’t have been able to watch that whole Shades trainwreck without the existence of the cases. So no, I don’t mind them, I just see them for what they are. Shortcuts. I don’t need shortcuts and I don’t need charity, I earn what I get the hard way. Like a champion. Like a megastar.

I went through everyone to get where I am, dude. I took out the best of the best, and now it’s my time to shine. You think you’re making some point about my career being in a holding pattern, but you’ve gotten as many Universal Championship matches as I have – and trust me, dude, your career is way closer to over than mine is. No Doc, the sun’s just rising on my day. You slept in until noon and now you’re racing against dusk.

I expected a little more from you than to toss out the star of the month rhetoric, too. As if I need to remind you of the controversy around your having been given that moniker over me. No hard feelings, of course, you don’t have to give me the crown, baby, just call me the king. Just remember, after the month is done, there’s still one bright, hot megastar in the sky.

As for the briefcase? Well, I mean, let’s just say I doubt you’re the first member of your family to make a living on his back, dude. Some tendencies are just hard wired into the DNA, I guess. Que sera, sera.

So… back to the eye. Just admit it, someone skull-banged you didn’t they? You can admit it, man, that sort of shit is getting more and more legal every day. You want some dude’s ramrod tickling your brain, who am I to judge? At least it didn’t prevent you from talking… heaven knows that would break your congested heart.

Look, Doc, you’re making it awfully difficult for me to go easy on you here. I have a heart after all and I don’t like to remind people of the traumas they may have suffered. Whatever happened between you and your many, many stepfathers back in the 40s is totally none of my business, man, but how about we take a little bit of time and talk about it, so that you can finally get it off of your drooping chest? Here, have a seat on this couch…

Loverboy kicks out, again, and gestures to a comfortable couch for the Doc to sit on while Loverboy himself picks up a bad and pen and takes a seat close by. Finding his therapeutic, anatomically correct Maverick doll with kung-fu grip vagina, he hands it to the Doc and asks him to show exactly where his uncles had touched him.

Mister Loverboy, the only reason you haven't taken the advantage of these 'shortcuts' is because you haven't had the opportunity to do so. How can you call them shortcuts anyway? I spent six weeks defending my title against all comers, including you and many others that have tried to take this title from me.

Shortcut? Six weeks is a long time, friend.

Your path to the Universal Title... How can you look at that as some sort of accomplishment? You've been lingering around, up and down the XWF roster for months. Your simple trials as the XWF Trios Champion. Matches upon matches... Come now, friend. Granted, it's never been for the Universal Championship. The problem is, you've been mixing yourself up in the rubbish of being a representative for Madness. I thought months ago that you should have been in the running for the 'big one'. Supporting your GM Mister MacClay, for example. Not only has that slowed you down, but it's placed you against your own comrades! Isn't that hurting the group a bit? Or is there so much mutual respect among you that you carrying the victories just doesn't matter? I'm sure Mister Wallace would have something so say about that.

Perhaps your little group of mega-friends have an understanding that you're supposed to be the guy that stands out among the rest of them.

I do apologize for bringing up the whole 'Superstar of the Month' thing. I know that my induction was quite an episode. I also know that the whole controversy belonged to you more than it belonged to me. The award of yesterday is nothing like today, anyway. These days, you either get a briefcase or some astronomical amount of xbux. I don't believe xbux existed during my time as Superstar of the Month. So, I hope we don't have too many hard feelings about that. I was only stating that you're still in the backseat while other, younger, newer superstars fly past you, while you remain unnoticed.

You can go ahead and continue to bring up my appearance and my age as if it has anything to do with my success here in this fine federation. Your heart and back may be strong, but I feel the same way about talking about it as you do me bringing up the Superstar of the Month ordeal. Why bother?

Has my condition in life reflected on my performance? Have I been slowing down? I think not. I continually do what I say I do and I back it up with victories.

Just let me say, looking back, I am quite proud of your accomplishments Mister Loverboy. You've stuck with the game for a long time and you continue to impress. Maybe some of that will eventually shine through.

The Doctor takes the Maverick doll and rips the head from atop the shoulders. He uses it was a bowling ball, inserting two fingers into the eye sockets and one in the mouth, and cracks Loverboy over the head. Doctor pins him.

All these things you keep trying to break me down with, one after another - my lack of a Universal Title reign, my lack of time in the main events you've been a part of, my lack of wins that you've acquired... the star of the month, the briefcase, the crown... and yet none of it changes the fact that the runner up to the highest position in our crazy little lives is me, not you.

See Doc, you've collected an awful lot of title shots in your career, but how many of them have you really spun into gold? Just the one? Against a laughably mismatched opponent? That guy you have at least one thing in common with - tracking each of his successfully survived pin attempts as if they were meaningful victories.

In the same span of time that you've sat back and relaxed, just putting in exactly enough effort to hold onto your poorly gotten title, I've rebuilt my brand from a dominating team member to a leader, from a mid card wonder to a main event megastar, from a wannabe, an also-ran, into a WINNER. There hasn't been a single obstacle thrown my way that I haven't eventually overcome, Doc. No one that's managed to be lucky enough to score a fluke win over me has been able to duplicate it a second time, have they? No, everyone I've ever lost to has also lost to me, with the very special exceptions of Guppy Parsh, a champion a dozen times more respected than the one you beat and a guy so ruined by being shown how fast the future was coming at him that he tucked tail and ran soon after... and you, Doc.

Don't worry Doc, I won't be like you and count kicking out from your Federweight assault over and over and over and over again as a win. I'm sure it's got to be just a little bit frustrating for you though, as accustomed as you've come to getting everything you want with the snap of a finger, but I'm not here to make Doctor D'Ville happy, man. I'm not here to elevate you from your hollow position as "good enough." No, Doc, I'm here to keep showing, over and over, that regardless of who thinks they're good enough, I'm better.

I can go into a rumble match with broken ribs, a concussion, and shorn like a sacrificial lamb and still shine like the brightest heavenly body in the night sky. I can go to the ring with a cheap wig strapped to my head and still not be the butt of the joke in the ring. You? You can't do anything about that, Doc. You've got to stop thinking things are the same as they were in the past, dude. Welcome to 2015 - the year in which you can't beat me.

Loverboy again kicks out, then stands and adjusts his Federweight belt, wiping away a smudge from its golden facade. He then helps the Doctor to his feet and, noticing that the collar of his jumpsuit has become disheveled, straightens it for him before lending him bus fare for the ride home.

Do you think I've been trying to put you down this entire time? Give me a bit of credit here. It's not all about wins and losses here. The wins, the crown, the briefcases... None of them have led to anything that equals the position you're in right now. Do not heckle me regarding what I've accomplished. You had one match to earn your shot so you're not fooling anyone. I chose to remain the X-Treme Champion rather than chasing after ANOTHER title shot.

Speaking of my X-Treme Championship... Do you see a closet full of tee shirts counting every kick out I've done? I don't believe so. What you see is the Doctor nearing his fiftieth kick out. A kick out that I thought would have been worth celebrating! Until now. Thanks for bursting my bubble, Mister Loverboy.

Now, you read a little too much into what I say sometimes, I think. Sure I bought my X-Treme Title shot... Simply because I grew tired of waiting for one. It didn't matter who was the champion, to be honest, and I'm sure you could agree with my passion for this. I actually wanted to take the title from Mister Evertrust. So the weak victory over Mastermind was not the Doctor's fault. Luck of the draw, my friend. Just like in the recent rumble the two of us took our chances in. You did well in it, Mister Loverboy. How unfortunate for you that you drew such a low number, while I on the other hand, drew another much closer to the end of the match.

It's obvious that you deserved more than what you ended up with, my friend.

Seems to be the story of your career. Coming up short. Just because you're the number one contender right now, Mister Lane, means nothing. Let's see what happens when you actually step up to the plate and use that shot. Do you think Morbid Angel will give it up so easy? I know you've bettered him once before. But who knows what was going on while 'Morbid and the Boys'. And if Jacob defeats him for the title before you have your chance at it?

I like the logic of your success too, MIster Lane. Anyone who's managed to get a fluke victory over you hasn't been able to duplicate the same success.

Fool me once, right?

The year 2015 does not belong to you Mister Lane. Yes, 2014 has come to a close and I'm sure that one name sticks out to everyone here in the XWF. That's Doctor Louis D'Ville.

2015 has just begun and you could bet that the name Doctor Louis D'Ville will be a name that you continue to hear throughout. The King will reign supreme, Mister Lane.

The Doctor throws the few cents that the Loverboy lent him for bus fare into his mouth and swallows them. The Loverboy panics and begins the Heimlich on the Doctor trying to save him. Losing his balance, the Doctor and Loverboy fall backwards accidentally pinning the Loverboy to the ground!

Yes Doctor, you've got it!

Fool me once - shame on you... fool me twice? Not going to happen. Easily demonstrable right here today, while you unsuccessfully try to revisit past triumphs by repeatedly trying to pin me in clever ways regardless of how many times I kick out.

Why, by the end of the day I might have acquired 50 kickouts of my own! Perhaps we could then celebrate together, Doctor?

The thing is, Doc, you're so watered down by your lackluster opponents that your performance has started to suffer. You've played yourself down to their level. You let Pest have his most impressive match to date against you! You allowed Austin Fernando so many near falls that even I thought the young upstart was going to unseat the king for a moment! And surely, this upcoming week, with your lowliest challengers to date, you will still find yourself lucky to eke out a comeback victory and escape with your admittedly impressive streak intact.

No, of course, it isn't your fault who the champion was when you decided to challenge for it, and it isn't your fault who has come to unseat you since... but it does seem eerily coincidental, don't you think? What might happen, for instance, were you tasked with matching up with the workload of Gator week in and week out? What would happen were you to defend against the level of competition he has for so long?

I think we know the answer, Doctor, since, like me, you were once one of those challengers yourself. A humbling night for the king, as I recall.

But that's just how Gator is, after all... or Jacob, if you insist. He tends to win endlessly, doesn't he? I wonder if there is anyone worthy of that same esteem in the eyes of the XWF powers that be?

Ah, right, of course.

Not that you are at a loss for exposure yourself, in the rotation with another friend of ours, LH Harrison. How embarrassing it must feel to have him as a blemish on your record as well, especially considering how easily I've dispatched him so many times since I've been here.

Thank you though, Doctor, for acknowledging the fact that I have not received everything I am due thus far in my career. While it wouldn't be true of me to return the sentiment, I do appreciate it from such an admirable peer. Perhaps, when I am the Universal Champion and you are still playing dress up with your silly crown, you will have a more cogent perspective of our relative positions within the industry.

Me on top, you coming up a distant second.

It would be illustrative, to say the least.

Now, Doc, I really must insist you get off me and let me get you a glass of water. Whatever logic you used to try and swallow those quarters was equal to deciding to challenge me in the first place...

Loverboy rolls through the pinning combination, dropping a heavy knee to the midsection of Doctor D'Ville, who is slow to react. Loverboy then retrieves a bottle Evian water from the break room and brings it to the good Doctor.

Friendship.


Friendship, again?

Winner and STILL Federweight champion: 'Loverboy' Vinnie Lane.

Bravo.

Just stumbled upon this gem, deserves to be bumped

4x XTreme Champion    (1x as Misty Waters)
3x Television Champion
3x Tag Team Champion (w/ Vita Valenteen, w/ Charlie Nickles, w/ Madison Dyson)
2x Hart Champion

4x Star Of The Month
August '24(As Misty Waters), August ‘21, May ‘17, October ‘16

3x RP Of The Month
What light through sonder... my perception breaks.
Tranquility: For Old Times Sake
Manifest Victory

Chimpo beats on his Macbook Pro with sticks and hits the like button for everyone.

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Hey look at that. There was a time when Dick E actually served a purpose besides being a foul mouthed old fuck who stands on his lawn and screams at children. I wonder where that old fuck is these days? Probably dropped dead of a heart attack.