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**Vincent Lane** · **02-17-2015, 06:13 PM** "Loverboy" - Run to the Hills -->

Extra, extra read all about it!

“Loverboy” Vinnie Lane is still the man of your dreams, the reigning rock n’ roll megastar, the man your girl comes to see and you want to be…

And I’m STILL the reigning number one contender to the Universal Championship.

I’d like to thank my partner Johnny Heartsford this past week, but most of all, I’d like to thank my fish out of water opponents Austin Fernando and Kendall Sawyer. Yeah, that’s right, I’m thanking you.

Why?

Well, simple. The two of you – especially you, Fernando – the two of you demonstrated better than I ever could how much higher I am than you will ever be. The two of you, combined, with both of those sparkling “star of the month” plaques you carry around with you everywhere like badges of honor, couldn’t manage to form a cohesive enough team to even hold my dick off of the mat for five minutes.

Austin. Listen. I told you from the beginning that you had a good start, that you had a bright light at the end of your tunnel, but that you were trying to bust out of the oven and go for the brass ring before you were done cooking. Well, it turns out I was right, huh?

Now, Austin, take a seat at the back with the rest of the “ain’t good enough” crowd and listen while one legend talks to another.

Peter Gilmour.

Peter… we have a lot to talk about, don’t we?

Dude, I really can’t even go another minute without admitting that when I was coming up, man, when I first walked in the door here at the XWF, there was no one I was more excited to work with than you.

Everyone I knew told me that you were the man here, dude. From the bingo halls and high school gyms in Florida to the death matches in J-Pro, everyone told me that the main man in the XWF was the “King of Extreme” Peter F’n Gilmour.

And dude, when I got here I thought it was the truth! When I arrived in July and signed my blockbuster, record-breaking contract, you were one half of the tag team champions! When my first ever pay per view match aired in August, one in which I won the Trios Titles that YOU helped build a legacy for, you were on the same show winning a title match of your own, man.

I guess what I really wonder all these months later is… what happened?

What happened to the Peter Gilmour who walked out to the ring in every arena around the world and made it his bitch? What happened to the dude who threw two middle fingers in the air to everyone around him and walked to the back proud?

You know what happened to him?

He got his dick cut off.

In a world with too few heroes already, where all the greats are dropping like flies, Peter Gilmour has the fucking nerve to let his legacy decay to the point where he is literally a walking god damn joke.

Peter, I watched you eat shit and die at the hands of a former doctor in a rented Batman costume. I watched Doctor D’Ville eat your ear like he was Mike Tyson at a buffet. I watched you get beat by a fucking eight year old… and yet I still thought enough of the guy I came up hearing about to walk up to you like a man and hand you a fucking championship belt.

A championship belt I worked my ass off to win, a championship belt I essentially fought tooth and nail for in a three on one against some of the best of the best. I thought of YOU when it was time to award that belt to someone new, even knowing it would draw the ire of Shane

and the rest of the brass in the office. Even at the risk of waking the sleeping bears that turned into the Three Kings. I thought of you, I gave you a championship even when you were carrying around a joke lunchbox and wearing a plastic crown, and I shook your hand and stood by your side.

And it was the biggest mistake of my career.

I’m not going to harp on the Trios loss too much, Pete, but everyone in the XWF knows I could have picked a better partner by showing up to Barney Green’s house and fishing through his septic tank. You went in there thinking you were going to just let your partners do all the work, just like you always do, and you ended up taking the pin. Yeah, you took a hell of a beating and we had about nine guys to worry about instead of three, but Morbid and I were ready for that. We knew what we were dealing with with the Kings. We knew what kind of tricks they had up their sleeves. But you? You just grinned like Lennie taking a bullet from George and then cost me what I’d been working my entire life to achieve.

The thing is… I knew you would. I knew the second I beat you and Morbid Angel on Warfare that I’d screwed up by choosing you, Peter. You know why? Because you let me win.

You embarrassed yourself to make sure I’d still be on your team because you knew you had no shot without me. You took it easy on me and looked like a damn fool when TWO of the Trios Champions weren’t good enough to beat the third. A Universal Champion and a legend, beaten up and pinned by a cocky rookie who should have had NO CHANCE against the two of you.

I knew when I looked in your eyes and saw what was going on that you didn’t have the balls to be a champion anymore. Maybe you did at one point, Pete, but that night I knew for sure that they were long gone. In your spot, I would have kicked the dogshit out of me, Pete. I would have proven that I deserved the belt I was handed on a silver platter. You could have still just picked me to stay your partner, you dumb son of a bitch, but you didn’t want to risk for one tiny fraction of a moment that I wouldn’t be there to hold your hand, so you took a dive and looked like an idiot, and made ME look like an idiot in the process.

No one makes me look like an idiot but me, Pete. Now you gotta pay.

This weekend, to celebrate the supremacy of Monday Madness, I’m going to strut down to the ring and take you apart. I’m going to put the final nail in the coffin of the career of the “immortal” Peter Gilmour.

And I’ve never been happier.

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