Time: Time for you to get a new watch! Ha! Got 'em!
Date: 6 of 'em tonight yo! YOWZA!
Location: The Swag Realms AKA Pringle Boi 187's ranch in California

FUCK YEAH!

Our hero, our boi, our got damn muthafuckin' savior Pringle Boi 187 sinks into his Serta Memory Foam Mattress, spread eagle and wearing only a blonde wig, staring up at the ceiling, panting. Wait, shit. This isn't Pringle Boi 187, this is Pringle GURL 187! Ignore the penis ladies and germs, it's definitely a grill. Pringle Gurl 187 throws her hand behind her and slaps it down on the nightstand next to the bed, hitting nothing but wood the first couple times. The third time her hand comes down, she finds what she was looking for, a cool-looking pair of red sunglasses. She puts them on, then pushes herself out of bed, smacking the ass of the 16 year old girl she just smashed with her totally feminine boner.

Same time tomorrow?

The girl giggles and nods, before making her way out of the bedroom. In the doorway, she runs into the side of a tall, muscular African-American gentleman who's walking into the room as she's leaving. The man shakes his head as she scampers down the hall and approaches the Pringle Gurl 187.

Jesus, put some clothes on!

Why would I do that?

Pringle Gurl 187 whips her dick around like a helicopter.

Burke's here. He wants his miracle.

Why didn't you start with that?

Pringle Gurl 187 rips the wig off and chucks it under the bed, thus revealing the trademark black Asian fro of Pringle Boi 187! Could this mean they're the same person?!?!?! Nah, of course not. The Father of Titles is not the Mother of Titles, this ain't no Asexual reproduction type shit!

Pringle Boi 187 rushes over to his closet and hastily dresses himself in his miracle working garb: black vestments adorned with flashing lights and the word SWAG written on the back in gold lettering. He also grabs his Obey Snapback and puts it on before checking himself out in the mirror.

Lookin' good, ain't I?

The black man shrugs.

Whuteva! Come on Marcus, we got some miracles to work!

Ten minutes later, Pringle Boi 187, his African American bodyguard/PR guy Marcus, his congregation of half-dressed teenage girls, three armed guards, and a man in a three piece suit carrying a briefcase are all packed into the massive chapel of the church on the property. Pringle Boi 187 stands behind a podium in the center of the room, a coffin behind him.

BROTHAS, SISTAS, CHILDREN OF THE FATHER OF TITLES! ALL RISE!

Everyone in attendance rises. A few of the girls in the mass applaud.

We are gathered here today by request of Mr. Burke. See, tragedy has befallen the Burke family.

A solemn expression crosses the face of the Pringle Boi 187.

Just a few days ago, their son Jason was struck by a drunk driver and sadly to say, he died before the ambulance came.

A loud sob comes from the back of the chapel.

So, Mr. Burke did what any good father would do. He prayed. He prayed and THE LORD LISTENED! THE FATHER OF TITLES HEARD YOUR PRAYERS, MR. BURKE!

And so, he proved his devotion to his family by allowing his daughter to be blessed!

Pringle Boi 187 points towards the girl seen earlier, who blushes.

HE SHOWED HIS DEVOTION BY SHOWING UP HERE TODAY WITH THE PAYMENT!

And now, we reward his faith.

Mr. Burke approaches the podium, placing the briefcase atop it. Pringle Boi 187 walks over to the coffin and pushes it open.

Now, in the name of the Father of titles, the Son of titles, and the Holy Ghost of titles. Heads, shoulders, knees and toes. Mekka-lekka-hi Mekke-hiney-ho!

HEYYYYYYYYYYYYYY MACARANA!

The entire church falls silent. Burke shoots a glare at Pringle Boi, half ready to kick this scammer's ass when all of a sudden little Jason's eyes open. He groans and his father rushes over to the coffin to help his son out. Holding his son up, he looks dumbfounded at the Pringle Boi 187.

You're welcome, BROTHA!

Then he gets all up in the man's face and whispers in his ear.

You don't have to stay for the rest of the service if you don't want.

Burke speeds out of the church with Jason in tow.

NOW! IT IS TIME TO PREACH THE GOSPEL TO MY OPPONENTS THIS WEEK!

I am Pringle Boi 187, BUT YOU ALL KNOW WHO I AM! The FATHER OF TITLES, the KING OF PRINGLES, the SAVIOR OF THE SWAG REALMS! Now I don't know who any of these jabronis I'm supposed to be facing are but I can tell all of you faithful in attendance THAT NONE OF THEM GOT SHIT ON THE DANGEROUS ALLIANCE! LOOK AT ALL OF THEM!

They're not even good!


Just try this shit on for size homies, NOT EVEN COUNTING MYSELF, SINCE I AM THE FATHER OF ALL THE TITLES and that would be a little unfair, let's just look at the rest of Alliance's track record. You got DEAN MOXLEY MCGOVERN, who at one point held not 1, not 2, NOT EVEN 3, but 4 TITLES AT ONE TIME! Add in Frodo Smackins who also held a tag title once I guess, and our FEARLESS leader Darren Dangerous and you got a GANG OF ALL-STARS THAT NOT EVEN HARDENED VETERANS CAN FUCK WITH!


So, how can Kirk MacClay think that The Dick Show, or the Dope Show or WHATEVER DUMB SHOW THEY ARE could even compete with us? IT'S COOL THOUGH! Once we descend upon them WITH THE FORCE OF A THOUSAND ANGRY HATEBONERS THE WHOLE XWF WILL KNOW JUST WHO THEY'RE MESSING WITH AND THEY WON'T LIKE IT ONE BIT!

People are going to get rektorino, and it's gonna happen soon. It'll happen fast and hard and WITHOUT ANY DISCRIMINATION!

You got a phone call dude.

Aw shit, from who?

Said his name was Dean, but he had to go. Said you needed to call back though.

OH SHIT! IT'S GOING DOWN NOW!

Fade to swagness.