Mister Mystery 2015 sees Peter Gilmour's dick laying on the floor in a puddle of blood and piss. He steps on it.

"Anything I say to you would fail to insult you anywhere close to the level of what it's already like to be Gilmour's goddamn dick. Need I remind you of Rose?"

What the fuck are you even talking about in here? Trying to pin me and talk shit, while running around in a mask using the guise of Mister Mystery hoping people associate you with Poppa Feder and shit. That's just sad. You want us to pretend to care about yo while you parade around in your cheap Feder mask. GO GET A BETTER COSTUME.

Please, challenge Vinnie Lane for his title, and get your ass kicked, but leave my title alone. You're not even pretending to be good enough to earn this title. Hell, you're not even pretending to be good enough to pretend to be good enough for my title. Jesus, at least act like you're worth me barely paying attention to. Was this just done to hide you trying to pin Rev for his title? Or, was this some desperate move to get any sort of validation in the world? Do you want a goddamn hug and a puppy? What are you, a man or a teenage girl who just got her first period? Do you want Pest to come over here? Da Gilly Willy ain't all up on that teenage puss puss.

Go change your tampon, and stop throwing a fit. Come back when daddy actually loves you.

Da Gilly Willy kicks out.

He uses his big toe to squish what's starting to look like a shredded worm that you've been using for too long on your hook on a really slow day of fishing.

"Sounds like you're trying to call me a cheap rip off but let's think about that for a second.

"Are you already realizing where you fucked up with that?

"You've been literally ripped off of Peter Gilmour's body while I'm the realest thing this federation has seen in years. Next you're going to call me the dick! You cheap rip off dick -- I'd tell you to go fuck yourself but I'm not sure if I can picture that happening because what would you need to do? Kind of wrap yourself into a tight "C" shape and poke your shriveled raisin looking head into the gaping bloody wound that once was attached to my good friend Peter? Maybe I'm not here to take titles at all; maybe I'm here for my friend who wants his dick back! Now why not make this easy on both of us and get inside this mini ice chest?

"Oh and by the way you sad excuse for thirty pounds of shit in a five pound plastic bag -- what the fuck's this shit you're coming up with about me wearing some disguise? What the fuck!!?? You been stuck up somebody's ass too long and suffering from oxygen deprivation? What kind of outfit am I wearing in your hallucinations? Describe it! I'm not sure where you saw any mask on me -- care to make anything else up while you're at it? Am I wearing the stretched out skin of Gilmour's Mother's head as my mask?

"Fuck it, you dumb mother fucker you, if you get to be a talking severed dick then who the fuck is to say I can't be an invisible man? Makes just as much sense right? That's right you shit packing ram twig! If we're living in some fucked up reality where I'm arguing with a ripped off dick over a title named after my family, then I get to be the realest fuckin' spook around! That banana jammer Trax has nothing on me! That watermelon felon TJ Wallace can suck you if he thinks he's spookier. Next I'll be saying you can't see me, and to that you'll try to tell me I'm wearing a John Cena mask and making fun of my brightly colored Cenation shirt -- maybe you're on some really good shrooms with all those nonexistent colors and masks you see? Care to share?

"Now give me something better to cut up because I almost just cut off my own dick trying to stab through the basically nonexistent shit you supplied me with!"

Gilly Will kicks out and flies to the moon.

"At my age I've spent enough time arguing with my own dick that I have no problem keeping this up with a smaller and easier one like yourself.

"I should try harder to prove to you that I'm not here for titles? You mean me saying 'maybe I'm not here for titles' wasn't proof enough? But I tried so hard when I said that!

"Or not.

"If you were capable of retaining memories you'd be able to recall that I was asking you to get inside this ice chest so I could bring you back to your owner and master, Peter Gilmour. For someone who questions what is or isn't taken in the literal sense, you're sure a literal piece of shit when it comes to remembering and referencing facts and events. Holy fucking shit you're slow!

"Let's take a trip back -- way back if you will -- all the way back to when you told me I'm running around in a mask and under the guise of someone else. See, dumb fuck , the split motherfucking second you made it a point to reference a literal mask and suggest I'm under some guys (since you're a and want to see me under guys) you forfeited the right to use the bullshit backtracking maneuver of denial. Fuck face; plain and simple I called you out on your hallucinations and asked for a description of them. Now you will give me that description or I'll get you in a fish hook match in the very near future and win that match by using you to catch me a goddamn bluegill! You should be big enough for a tiny bluegill, right gilldick?

"Now as for why other fucktards want to use my name to boost themselves, well is there any wonder really? What the fuck other name would somebody use to m-- oh......oh yeah that's right, you're the dumb fuck using the name Gilmour instead of the name Feder. I'm starting to wonder if you're even slightly related to the man you claim to be a detachment from because you're pretty shitty at this trash talking game and I can tell you right now the real Peter Gilmour would eat you up and spit you out -- not literally; ok maybe literally too but I think you know what I mean. Weak ass pussy.

"Imagine that? All you are is a dick from top to bottom and still getting called a pussy.

"Now as I said before -- supply me with something of substance so I can really have some fun ripping it to shreds. Or would you prefer to spend a few more minutes trying to convince me I'm not the man who dominated Sebastian Duke, Neonero, Mark Flynn, NAZI, John Madison and countless others? Boy are you and everyone else going to be swallowing lumps down your throats after Madness; and that's hard for a dick to do, isn't it?

Mister Mystery pins the stringy organ under the ice chest he plans to deliver it to Gilmour in.

Are you really trying to play off the idea of you being a Feder this hard, or are you just admitting to being an old fraud? Or, are you going to be captain literal some more? Shit. Ok. Well, I'm glad I don't actually ears or a brain so this won't hurt as bad. Ok, well, tell me man, when did I ever reference the ice chest? I didn't. I ignored it. I did. I ignored it and told you that your attempts at doing this here, and your attempts at the ninja pinning on Rev were very bad examples of you "Not wanting titles." You know, because you said that you may not be interested in winning titles. And then I told you you're doing a bad job of showing that to be true. Not once did I mention the ice box. Not once. I mean, I am now, but that's only because you've mentioned it, and actually brought it out.

Instead of just talking about one, and then stepping on me. Which begs the question, if you had a mini cooler, why would you step on me, and not put that on me in the first place? Or, did you have one of your invisible friends, like NOCMM, go and get it for you real quick, so you didn't look like the jackass when you went on about me ignoring something you barely mentioned? Maybe one of them can bring you a book on not being a waste of invisible space. Holy fuck, you're the slow one. In other news, I did not mean literally wearing a mask, still. I mean, if you want to take everything as literal then you must honestly believe that I think there's a puddle of Rose Smith's ejaculate running around, or squirming around. Not sure. Apparently you'd know since you're thinking that's what I honestly believe you are.

It's cute how you're still trying to allude to being a Feder, even though everyone knows you're not and that the routine is played out. Hey, if the Feders really wanted to come back and prove themselves, they'd have done it when Theo and Samuels were calling out Peter, Soldier, and Feder. You know, defend the family honor from Samuels. But, of course no Feder was around for that. No, "they" only come around when the coast is clear of someone like Johnny boy being able to notice whether or not they're frauds. Spoiler, you're still a fraud. Hey, if you're really a Feder, then I'm really a dildo with an RC car motor in it. And no, that's literal either, you dumbass. You know what should really make you wonder if I'm Peter's willy or not? The fact that, unlike Peter, I'm able to win on my own, and get a championship belt. Now, riddle me this, how did you pin me with the cooler, if I flew to the moon? Or, do you not take that as literal? Only the parts you think give you an edge in a conversation with me? Imagine, you having to hope a penis makes a mistake so you can win that debate.

Gilly Will crawls out from the cooler, and kicks out of this lame ass pin attempt from a lame ass.

"There comes a time when someone is so verbally fucked that anything further is just them burying themselves."

Quote: Well, I'm glad I don't actually ears or a brain

"Or a grasp on the fucking language you speak? Yeah no kidding no brain!"

Quote:Ok, well, tell me man, when did I ever reference the ice chest?

"Oh

"My

"God"

Quote:attempts at the ninja pinning on Rev were very bad examples of you "Not wanting titles."

"Oh good you're still bringing that up? Again, I said maybe I'm not here for titles because maybe I'm here to help my friend Peter retrieve his missing body part, bringing the ice chest into play, remember??? For some anal stuffer who wants to try and attack what's taken literally it sure sounds to me like you take the word m a y b e as being some kind of literal confirmation. Why not at least let me be the one to draw the blade across the spot where your head meets the shaft so I can get the closest satisfaction there is to slitting your throat? Why do the work for me???"

Quote:if the Feders really wanted to come back and prove themselves, they'd have done it when Theo and Samuels were calling out Peter, Soldier, and Feder.

"More proof that if you had a body you wouldn't know your head from your ass or a hole in the wall. Prove myself against Theo and Samuels? Theo is the biggest pushover in the history of this fucking company and couldn't talk his way out of a ticket from a meter maid! That fucking thinks he's jaw jacking when he's just slaw jagging and shooting off blanks more loosely than you shoot off contradictions and misinformation you dumb shit! I could sleep talk my way through a verbal altercation with that and get woken up by a referee raising my hand in victory while I'm still in bed!

"And Samuels? Are you kidding me right now? Samuels is the biggest single cluster fuck of random ups and downs that I've ever seen in my life -- reinforced by the fact that he's even faltered in terms of skin color. He was once seen as a white man with hopes of one day being great and then what? Same random bullshit as his win-loss history. He's a roll of the dice and that dice usually doesn't go in his favor even though he does have a few very lucky wins over names who didn't feel like putting in effort against him that week or names who just ran through half of a gauntlet before getting to him and he, once again showing his up and down relationship with lady luck, managed to get a pin only to do jack shit during his run in that gauntlet. He's also got losses against some of the shittiest names in the business so let's not toss his or Theo's name around in the same sentence as proving ones self you dickless pussy dick!

"I win. Let's just get the count over with now."

Pin

With Dick E. nowhere in sight for days, a random referee strolls onto the scene and can clearly see what's going on here.

...1

...2

...THREE!

New Federweight Champion: Mister Mystery

It had to happen one of these days lol

At least somebody beat that dick.

Looks like Team Loverboy just got twenty pounds heavier.

Twenty pounds, that much gold could purchase an entire cellar of ale and hash.