So for those of you who haven't been paying attention, my name's Nick.

Dead Nick, I guess they're calling me.

I had it all planned out to give you the full background story of what the fuck's been going on in my life as of late, but it seems, you're already well-informed of that. So, since we're all caught up.


Entry 17

I waited well over a half hour for the asshole to show up. He whipped around the building in an old, really loud, piece of shit looking Buick. Smoke rolled out from under the tires, the hood, and the muffler and gagged me to the point I had a coughing fit.

"Get in!" He shouted out to me leaning over the passenger seat. He reached up and pulled the door handle and swung the door open.

Smoke from his cigar rolled out of the vehicle and meshed with the rest. It was so dense in the car that it burnt my eyes, so I did my best to wave it out of my face, which didn't really help. I looked over at Tokyo as he drew a large hit from the cigar. The cherry burned bright red and several inches of ash crumbled off of the edge of it and exploded on the arc of his stomach. God this guy was fat.

"Okay, who the fuck are you?" I asked him.

"Just call me, Tokyo, kid."

"Tokyo?"

"Did I fuckin' stutter?"

What a fucking dick, right?

"We established this part over the phone earlier. What the fuck do you want?"

Forget the formal introductions and all that bullshit. What's this guy's deal?!

"Let's just say you've got a guardian angel." Tokyo said to me all majestically. "I'm here to make sure you stay on the right path and don't fuck this up."

Confused.

"Fuck what up?"

"You stick with me pal, and you won't have to worry about it. If you just shut the fuck up, listen to me, and do what I tell ya, everything'll be fine. Capice?"

"Fuck WHAT UP?"

I'm annoyed now. The guy's obviously avoiding my questions. On top of his ignorance, his car keeps back firing which is driving me nuts. There's about a single twine left holding me back from strangling this fucker as he drives down the road.

"Your career dummy! I'm going to make you a star, bro! So many of those other fuckers there have NO clue how to be successful. I see a special light in you though. I see you going places."

He's so full of shit.

"So you were sent by the XWF to be an....... agent of mine? Or something?" I continue to interrogate him. The fat bastard.

"Nnnnnnnnawt necessarily."

"Which part?"

"Well, both actually. I wasn't sent by the XWF and I'm not your fucking agent."

"Then what is this?"

"Just consider me a freelancer when it comes to this type a thing, kid. I want success, you want to know what the fuck happened to you. In order to find out what happened to you, you need success, am I right?"

"If you say so."

"I DO say so. I've been around, my man. I've seen some good stuff. Just give me a chance, I can help you win."

I feel that if I want answers I'm tangling with the wrong guy.

"Does anyone else have someone like you following them around?"

"How the hell should I know?"

This guy gave me the fucking creeps. Was he the one who left me all of that stuff in the locker?

"So why the fucking riddles and shit?"

"What do you mean?"

"I was left a few things for when I was released from the hospital. Are you responsible for that?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, pal. I grabbed your number from a source of mine and looked you up, that's all. Just trust me."

"I'm not paying you shit, either."

"I wouldn't dream of it. The reward at the end will be enough to satisfy the price of my service."

Entry 18

It wasn't long after I jumped in the car with him that I was back on the street. He left me on my own to basically wait for Madness and catch up with him afterward. I had other plans.

I left the event early and caught a quick taxi to the airport and hopped on a plane back to Chicago. The timing was so convenient it was weird. I walked in asked for the ticket and they were boarding in fifteen minutes. No luggage, no personals, just me. I boarded the plane and found my seat.

It was a short flight from Pittsburgh. It seemed like I actually lost time due to the time change. Nice. I stayed at a Days Inn all week, a cheap-ass motel where I noticed a lot of people actually live in. I can't blame them, I guess. It's cheap for those who have a cheap living, and so far, that's what I got. Besides the money that was left for me by an anonymous donor, the pay from working last Madness isn't exactly something to completely live off of.


Entry 19

It was the morning of the 14th day of April, Tuesday. I haven't been outside all week. I've just sat around and watched the television included with my dues, which I paid everyday and was the only reason for me leaving the room. Not a single person bothered me. And I didn't bother a single person. That creep-o, Tokyo didn't call me, which surprised me actually. I'm convinced it was him that left me the phone, the money, and what-not, no matter what the son of a bitch says.

Today was different though.

Today, I had a knock at the door.

It caught me off guard, I almost thought I didn't hear it. Then it happened again.

TAP TAP TAP

Speak of the devil.

I opened the door and who was standing there? The fat fucker that I avoided after my match Monday night.

"Well. Did you have a nice vacation?"

"Vacation?"

"Yeah. You fuck. I told you to reach me after your match. What happened?"

"I left, pal."

"Yeah, no shit."

He seemed pretty pissed. He was breathing smoke as he talked, but we can just blame that on the cigar that always seems to be an extension from his right hand.

"Get your ass ready, we're heading to Louisiana."

"What's in Louisiana?"

"Wednesday Warfare, you're next match."

"ANOTHER match? Holy shit, how many times a month am I supposed to do this?"

"You're new, brother. It's best to get your head in there and make a name for yourself early on. You just happened to show up with a lot of other newcomers as well, so it's going to be a pissing contest to the top between all of you rookies."

"Is that who I'm fighting this week? Another rookie?"

"No, it's actually a clusterfuck in a cell match."

A clusterfuck in a what?

"A clusterfuck in a what?"

"Cell."

"Cell?"

"Yeah, like a cage."

"Why?!"

"It's the XWF, kiddo. Get used to that shit."

"Who am I fighting?"

"Dylan George, Hero Xtreme 7.9, Austin Fernando, and the Intercontintal Champion, Sebastion Duke."

"......."

"Hello? You still there?"

"Four other guys?"

"What'd you expect? Another newbie-boobie to slap around? Fuck that. You're going to the top!"

"Four guys?"

I couldn't believe my frickin' ears. It's not that I expected a rookie. I didn't even expect a match. How often do these guys compete around here?

"When's the match?"

"Tomorrow."

"What the fuck?"

"Welcome to the XWf, my friend."


Entry 20

Four other guys huh? Fucking ridiculous. In a cell? Even more fucking ridiculous.

Let's have a look. Dylan "the Nightmare" George.

Costume, check. Trash talk, check. Horror-movie vibe? Double-check.

Listen scary-guy, it seems to me that everyone around here has their own special ways of expressing themselves. You, for example, choose to slaughter people in your little knock-off horror-show. It reminds me of something I turned on in the hotel room the other night. It was about two in the morning and I had nothing going on. After sleeping for months and months, I've seemed to have lost the desire to sleep like a normal person. But yeah, cheesy-horror, gotta love it.

Now just because I'm new here, don't think I don't know what's going on. On top of spending the last week piecing my life back together, I've been trying to catch up to current events, too.

Dylan George, you made some moves in the most recent XWF big event, Lethal Lottery. Impressive stuff man. So you're not just a wanna-be freak running around scaring little kids. You actually have something to back that up. I mean, I don't think Lethal Lottery is THAT big a deal right? You could've easily been lucky the entire time and drew a good partner for a few weeks.

I'm just fucking around. I have no clue whether you could have won that thing. The competition in the finals didn't look like much, but we'll never know, I guess. Me, on the other hand? I had no doubt that Mac Truck didn't stand a chance. I guess fighting is just one thing you don't forget how to do. Survival and what-not. So, no matter how impressive or unimpressive my first win may have been, it's still a win.

Speaking of forgetting stuff. Maybe I was being a little to over exaggerative in my first couple of entries. When I said I didn't remember anything and such, I remembered a few things. I just don't know who the fuck I am. Austin Fernando wants to poke and jab at all of that and say I'm full of shit. Listen pal, I can remember a few things, okay? At the very least I retained a 7th grade reading level. So yes, I can read and write. Yes, I can wipe my own ass. Plot holes? What do you think I'm doing here? Writing you a fucking novel? Writing reading-material for all of you assholes? Piss on that. These are my memoires. If you've got something to say fine, do your little promos. If I've got something to say, I'm scratching it down.

Maybe the issue is you can't read. Which wouldn't be a big deal, man. No sweat. I'll start throwing together some audio-tapes for ya.

You must've gotten bored, because you still seem a little confused as to why I'm here. Sorry for the brief summary earlier, but I figured most of you already knew what I was about since you were all so judgemental. But oh well.

Things just led me here man. Let's just go with that. And yes, you're all along for the ride. It's like a God damn murder mystery, everyone's involved.

Who the FUCK is Dead Nick?

I know I haven't had a lot to say this week, and I apologize for that since I've seemed to have upset you, pal. I kind of was in hiding, but not from my new job. From the new lunatic that's breathing down my back TO compete. Sorry that you couldn't spend the week backlashing and picking at everything I said like you did with your first attempt to "ruin my gimmick". Give me a break dude. If this is a gimmick, a dream, or a fucking fantasy then snap me out of it. Take me outta the picture and send me the fuck home. If not, get the fuck out of my way. You want to throw me into another coma? Speaking of gimmicks that's pretty fucking original dude. Way to turn my own thing against me like that and turn it into a threat.

Dickhead.

It's a shame you're such and God damn blabber mouth and an annoying prick to boot, I kinda like you're style. You're kinda mean. Which fits with this whole... Asshole thing you have going on for you. I like it. I did walk into this federation there'd be some sort of empathy expressed my way because of the position I'm in. Instead, I get shit on and have guys trying to prove me wrong or something. You certainly have strange ways at attempting to get under a man's skin.

Speaking of getting under a man's skin, I see someone who seems to live for it. Hero Xtreme 7.9 and his buddy NOCMM.

I tell ya what guy. I watched all twelve of your promos in about three and a half minutes. After it looked like you guys were spitting food all over my television screen, I fast forwarded it till it was over. Honest to God truth. But that doesn't mean I don't know anything about you. For a guy that has so many XWF accomplishments and such, you don't have too many success stories lately. Yet, you spit out about newbs and greens and all this crap making yourself seem like some seasoned veteran or some XWF legend. You look like a joke that thinks they deserve way more than they actually do. Like a lot of that morons walking around here I see.

Here's what I don't understand.

I get it, you get booked when you get booked, right? I get it. But this is my second match in the XWF. What in the FUCK am I doing in a match with a champion?!

Is this how this shit works around here? Kick one jackasses ass around for a night and be booked against a champ the next week? I know it's not for his Intercontinental Title or anything, but holy fuck. Who has faith in a guy that's only been here two weeks? Is this a Warfare thing? C'mon now.

Sebastion Duke. Former.... Everything champion. Take notes boys, here's an XWF legend. This guy's been around. So this match should look like nothing to you then, am I right, Champ? A who's who match? Couple of new guys and you and Fernando clash in the middle. The two top guys. Duke I've seen you in action and you had an impressive return to the XWF, but I feel like you're a little too confident. The King of Darkness. How many "Kings" are in the XWF anyway? Seems like a pretty generic name, but let me guess, you had it first right? Self-proclaimed or do your friends call you the King of Darkness?

These guys seriously have no idea who their up against. Sure I may lack the training, the skill, the athleticism as the rest of them, but I proved that I can hold my own in this square circle. Sure, it was new guy versus new guy last week, but if this is what I have to look forward to up the ladder then, hell, bring it on, baby. We have an Intercontinental Champion split between a war of fucking different worlds on the outside, while defending a title and pitying anyone who crosses his path on the other. Austin Fernando, the apparent number one contender to said title, comes across as a successful guy. Especially because of the cockiness in his voice. When was the last time you've won anything, pal? You've had XTreme Title shots, you were in the Stampede for the Hart Title, you lost there. Just hopping around to different titles or what? Crazy fucker. Maybe you need a bit more practice winning before you try going for a real prize. So I can seen what's going on here. This was supposed to be a preview for what's to come, am I right? The two of you fighting for the title? I know how this shit works. Throw two or three other guys into the mix and see what happens? I don't mind being the undercard guy or the guy outside of the spotlight, trust me. But if you think I'm just going to be a fucking prop on your grand stage out there then you're fucking mistaken. I may not come out on top and I'm not afraid to admit that, but you can bet your ass YOU fuckers will remember something from this event.