Fuccbois, man. All lining up, chomping at the fuckin' bit for Ferngotti blood. It's fucking crazy, we got more bitches on our nads than the fuckin' Universal Champ himself, Vinnie Lane. Just goes to further validate us being so far above him. See, you'd think when a rookie fuck wants to make an impact, they'd talk about how they're gonna beat the current top dog and take his belt.

But they aren't going after Vinnie for the Universal Title. The most prestigious belt in the company. No, they're talking Austin and I. For the tag belts. For the X-Treme Title.

They don't want Vinnie.

They want us.

These entitled fucks want Austin and I to prove ourselves to them, like the world fuckin' works that way.

Newsflash.

I don't need to prove myself to any of these fuccbois, the ones who think they know me. Think there's nothing else to me other than #dankmemes and the sickest trash talk they've ever heard. The types who puff out their chests to compensate for the fact that they're fucking nobodies. To compensate for that the fact that they'll never be somebody to anyone, themselves included.

I'm a fucking legend.

Tag Team #ForeverChamp. The talk of the fucking town.

Two-time European Champion. Most consecutive days as European Champ in the Shane Era. Suck my ass Karl Cross. Suck my ass Sid Feder. Suck my ass John Samuels.

X-Treme Champion. Second Youngest X-Treme Champ who fuckin' matters. Second only to my boy Austin Qrownando.

Was never pinned for that belt either. That shit took a fatal-fourway ladder match, along with a mid-match attack that left me unable to compete to get me to lose the belt.

Got a binder fulla Uni champs and XWF top 50 members I've beaten.

Azrael Erebus?

Beat 'im.

Theo Pryce?

Beat 'im.

John Samuels?

Beat 'im.

Eli James?

Beat 'im.

Sebastian "AHAHAHAHA" Duke?

Beat 'im.

Sid Feder?

Beat 'im with a broken ankle.

Vinnie Lane?

Beat 'im.

Never been a Universal Champ though. Never wanted it. Doesn't appeal to me. I'm really only bragging about my title wins because you fuccbois all want a fraction of the success I've achieved on autopilot. Really, the belts are secondary. Just a bonus.

God, I feel like I'm repeating myself.

Because I am. Because these fuccbois just don't fucking listen. They're too busy jerking off to the thought that they can tarnish my legacy, if they're even aware of that shit in the first place. The thing they don't get is that I don't give a fuck about my legacy. Any other fuccboi with half the accolades as me would implode after losing to Nick LasVegas but me? Nah, I went out and celebrated like I would've if I won.

Hey Vinnie! How does it feel knowing that Nike Lomogoldo did in one attempt what it took you four: decisively beat me? Even better: how does it feel knowing that he managed to do that without any partners to do the heavy lifting? Even better than both of those: how does it feel knowing he walked out of the building that night with the #lastlaugh over the Ferngotti camp?

Shit, even after pinning me you couldn't secure that X-Treme Championship and Maverick beat the shit out of you! Maverick! The dude I fucked up so hard he had to resort to bashing my face in with a glass bottle?

Then, what did I do after Maverick got himself disqualified like a coward? Despite the stitches in my face, despite the burn wounds on my body, I won a second fucking match in one night, with one of my opponents being current Intercontinental Champion Tush.

Meanwhile, the last time anyone saw your ass on XWF programming, you were getting laid out by that Maverick boy.

That right here is why people care more about beating Ferngotti than beating you. How fucking sad is that, my man? Even when you're supposed to be the top dog, the leading man, the fuckin' star of stars...

You're still getting #OvershadowedByLuca.

Always and forever, Vinnie.

But, there's a silver lining here. You don't have to deal with the Ferngotti's dealing with. Fuckin' Adam Cole Adams, Fontanna, John Black rising from the grave, Tush, Shade, every-fuckin'-body and their mothers who think they can #EndTheBullying2016 like I didn't already decree that the fucking bullying will be perpetuated indefinitely.

You don't have to hear them preach like they have a fucking chance in the coldest level of Hell.

I'm taking that burden off your back for you. You really should be thanking me because as one half of the biggest thing the company's got going for them, it's draining. Gotta constantly be on grind for strictly the dankest memes and the hypest gifs. Gotta constantly put fuccbois in their place enough times for them to get the fuckin' hint and shut the fuck up. Not that these are necessarily hard tasks, but my god are they tedious.

You're welcome Vinnie. Because continuing to overshadow you even while rocking goofy monikers and calling myself #KingFaggot with a straight face doesn't come from a place of hate. No, I don't hate you, Vinnie.

Do I like you?

No.

But I don't hate you.

It's just what I do.

I mean, fuck man, I decided to come back on a whim, started calling myself the fuckin' #MemeQueen and I got imitators. Check the insanity on that. I call myself #MemeQueen and all of a sudden I inspire Mike Green to follow his dreams and become a wrestler.

Ferngotti become tag champs?

Everyone and their mothers is trying to go against us half-cocked and limp-dicked.

It's the fuckin' #LucaEffect I tell ya: Luca does something, everyone jumps on it.

I revolutionized the way people make fun of Peter Gilmour. Everyone's been biting me since, whether they know it or not.

I revolutionized cheating and stealing victories.

I created the ability to beat Sid Feder and Evertrust at the same time with a broken ankle. Can't no one else claim they did that shit.

So, don't worry Vinnie.

Just say the word and I'll lay my ass down for you in the middle of the ring.

After all, you need the title "King of the XWF" much more than I do.

---

Oh, Luca.

As his manager, I should probably be concerned when he goes off on one of his benders. Wonder where he is, if he's okay, when and if he'll be back. Sitting up at night, hoping he doesn't decide to retreat to Peru and herd goats or whatever it is those fucking spics do.

Instead, it's kind of relaxing. With him gone, I have much more time to attend to pressing matters.

Which is the exact reason I find myself in the New York apartment of his girlfriend Amy, smiling wide as she glares at me. I guess the distrust is intrinsic; I must not be doing a very good job at wearing my people suit. Or, more likely, Luca told her all about me. All about how I'm shady, shifty, off-putting in a way he just can't put his finger on. I'm no stranger to the critiques on my personality.

Though, I'm surprised he isn't just as put off by her. I can see it in her eyes. I may be bad, depending on the interpretation but this woman? She's pure evil. Oh sure, she does well to hide her emptiness from the world but I'm not the world. I'm much more intimate than that.

"Pleasure to see you again, Amy," I say, not missing a beat.

"The pleasure's all mine."

"Don't worry about me taking too much of your time; I do intend to be brief."

"Take as much time as you need."

She smiles at me, letting down her pretenses of distrust. Does she sense that we're much more alike than we seem? Or does she think she has the upper hand in this situation? Oh, how I hope it's the latter. To see the look on her face when she realizes how out of her depth she is when he isn't around to save her ass.

"I'm going to have to ask you to cease any contact with my client."

"Somehow I don't think Luca would be too keen on that."

The smile turns to smirk. She definitely thinks she's going to come out of this ahead.

"Luca hired me to look after his best interest, and this is definitely in his best interest. He'll get over you, I promise."

Her smile fades, replaced with a scowl as she steps towards me, a glint in her eye.

She wants to do unspeakable things to me.

"You're not going to stop me."

I chuckle.

"I hope you're more convincing of a threat to your victims."

There goes all the fire from her eyes. Out in an instant. She looks at me, eyes wide, mouth agape.

"What, what do you mean?"

I shake my head. Can't keep a cool head under pressure? I don't see what he sees in her other than her bloodlust. Amateur. Though, I shouldn't be surprised. Not really.

"You can change your face, but I still see you Miss LeClair."

There's the face I'm looking for. Shocked. Horrified. She's finally realizing who she's talking to.

"Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me, so long as you stay away from Luca. We can't afford to have him be distracted."

"We? You mean--"

I shake my head - no.

"Good day, Amy."

I smile extra wide as I turn and exit her apartment.

It's time to #RelightTheTorch