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Unknown Soldier · (04-18-2016)

First shot coming into view is an overshot of an older boom box stereo system laying in a pile of garbage. Slowly, the camera focuses in on this radio device which inadvertently turns on by itself. There's a bit of a static at first, until the dial turns on it's own to exactly what we can guesstimate as a station approximately a hair past six and a half. A voice very load and clear makes its way through the speakers.

"Thank you for your amazing request Mr. Duke, will get that incredibly horrible song on next! What did you say your first name was again?"

"...Um, I didn't say, but it's Sebastian. Why would you care and why would you say that a George Straight song is horrible. This is a country music station, isn't it?"

It's clear the radio station jockey hangs up the phone call cutting off his caller immediately. This made very apparent by a dead dial tone fading out before he gives his signing out speech while possibly the gayest song in the entire history of music begins to play muffled softly behind him and increasing in volume.

"Keep your radios tuned to Mr. Ed's super special Hee Haw hour of mindless strumming and simplistic lyrics a six year old could write! As will be playing the all request, all live, gayest country music hits of all time! Ya feel me,

?"

The radio is suddenly smashed to pieces as a wandering boot comes flying into the scene. Upon quick realization, the view is backing away from the zoomed in radio and outwards towards the sight of the owner of said boot and we meet his acquaintance. Why, it's none other than Greggo, our demonic do badder Unknown Soldier's manager. Leaping around a nearby dumpster that was sitting near the radio. Making his way up to this dumpster, he reaches inside and begins digging under piles of trash to find his client.

After a few minutes of digging, he finds him and instead of waking him up he awkwardly just slides a note under his shirt and then skips away from the dumpster. He huddles away in some corner and starts giggling like a little school girl and chain smoking cigarettes, even though he doesn't smoke. Soldier, obviously awakened by the strange ruckus and looking a bit perturbed by Greggo's peculiar actions. After a bit of eye brow raising as he stares for an instant at Greggo looking all goofy in the corner. He then reaches for this note inside his shirt and then proceeds to unfold and read it.

Would you rape me?

Do you want to be my friend?

[______] YES
[______] NO

Check YES or NO?

He crumples up the paper and tosses it behind his shoulder leaving it in the dumpster behind him where he was sleeping and then he makes his way over towards the corner where Greggo was crouched.

Unknown Soldier: "Greggo, if we have a problem with our relationship we should talk about it face to face like men and not be over emotional little

like Makaveli passing love notes back and forth to one another like were in the sixth grade. I know I've been gone and I'm sorry. But I heard you were having fun with Goat Face Killah for awhile so don't act like you haven't been cheating on me too."

Greggo forgives him with a big smile and the two embrace in a very elongated hug that Greggo takes to creep factor 10 when he reaches for his dick. Soldier slowly pushes him away and out of view before unloading a super mega SATAN! sermon to all the servants watching.

Unknown Soldier: "Please, for the love of SATAN! tell me I didn't just witness my first ever gangster soap opera after I spent almost my entire evening watching the latest installment of Beverly Hills Thug 90210 from the Makaveli promo team last night. This pussy wants to be the Universal Champion and he can't even stand in front of a woman and tell her how he feels emotionally exactly like some kind of sad depressed little bitch. This disgraceful little walking excuse of a man would rather write poetry then just get in there deep and give that

version of Marilyn Monroe a good and proper pooner pounding! He probably spent all his time in prison kiting notes to all his gay little buddies in his cell block too for buttsex! Has anybody else noticed that almost every scene in his most recent promo that somebody ends up crying at the end of it? Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if Kleenex and Midol started sponsoring this guy and shooting commercials between his long and dreadful promos. Broadcast those fucking things right on the Lifetime Network! Makes me sick to think how pathetic this guy is and makes me feel sorry for that little tramp he has walking around with him in his promos."

Unknown Soldier: "I tell you what

Marilyn Monroe, stick this drama student drop out douche bag in the friend zone and let a real freak like me spank you till your red and bleeding, pull your hair out of its root, and treat you like the real piece of slut that you deserve to be treated as. Hey Makaveli, I wouldn't be surprised if Peter Gilmour became very disappointed in you and your manhood now after watching you handle your woman like that. Do you think Peter Gilmour writes love notes to Maria Brink like a love struck little teenager? Fuck no! Peter slaps that bitch across her ass and tells her what to do and when to do it. Like a fucking man. If women didn't want their men to be tough and rough with them then they'd all be lesbians or dating you apparently. Fuck I need me some more medicine before I keep murdering this mutt!"

The lunatic reaches into his pockets with both hands on both sides and pulls out a clear glass substance from both that resembles bricks of ice. Portions of it fall to the ground as both his pants pockets are overflowing with the substance. He rubs his hands in his face as if he were cleaning it over the sink. When his face pops back up his eyes are wider and his pupils are dilated. His face is bleeding in portions of it where small shards are sticking out.

Unknown Soldier: "Another thing about this crying vagina is if he thinks visiting a bunch of religious monuments is going to impede me from going all SATAN! up in his ass this Thursday night, he is sadly mistaken. He can go visit the Cristo Redentor or even the holy Vatican church for all I care! In fact, he better start praying to some form of deity if he ever plans on becoming a big time rap star and have someone guide him towards something else to rhyme about rather than just one word syllables. Give me a break dip shit, I literally watched you end almost half your fucking rhymes with the simple word 'it!' Two fucking letters! 'I-T!' Unless he plans on reforming Kriss Kross or something then he better re think his strategy, because he's a long fucking ways from shooting commercials of himself dumping champagne on cell phones! I don't have anymore time for this shit because it's time to pray as one of my six daily pillars of my SATAN! faith. Don't feel too bad Makaveli, whenever this worthless maggot Shade decides to come out of the Matrix and shoot a promo I'll make sure to embarrass the hell out of him too!"

--- 2 --- Mate With ME! --- 2 ---

Whispers calling my name echo in between the walls of the inside of this church while also between the eardrums inside the back of my head. Calling at my soul to yearn for one form of exploration. Dare it for the right or wrong reasons, I find it inexplicably impossible to determine. But I am however certain that these voices are pursuing me without any shadow of a doubt. I grasp at the area above my left breast, in hopes of slowing down what most certainly should be the speeding up of my heart. I receive no response or even the slight bit of detection to anything that resembles a pulse which now frightens the hell out of me. A drop of sweat formulates from the brow of my forehead while the cold and awkward feeling of goosebumps overtakes my skin. Yet, still my feet march forward in a monotonous and mesmerizing step one foot in front of the other. Pew after pew passes by on both my left and my right, faster and faster like watching out the window of a freight train.

The statute of the holiest of all mothers known to christ; Mary, now stands before me which brings my pattern of forward motion to a stop. I can feel the ominous presence of some type of spirit roaming in close vicinity of this statue. It takes my breath away at first, but after a while soothes me into its circle of what I'm going to assume to be trust. I kneel, not sure if it's because I want to or if I'm being forced to partake. None the less, I also bow my head to either show loyalty or submission or perhaps both. I'm taken away in a giant ball of white light, whipped away swiftly and suddenly my stomach plummets an overexerting pain that works its way from its top to the bottom in rapid fashion. Like the speed of light itself has just traveled through me and ravaged my body in less than the blink of an eye. A similar feeling I got once when I was dropped during a roller coaster ride in an amusement park. Now, as I vividly begin slowly coming to complete conscious, I'm placed before an alter hovering high above this same church, but what appears to be in a much different time.

I see myself, well rather my much younger self, in the day of my baptism as my mother stands crying tears of joy in a far away corner whilst my father; the pastor, slowly dampens my infant forehead with the purest of all waters in existence. I think to myself that this must be some sort of sign, since just a few days prior to finding myself in that hotel room I was living with my parents. My ability to physically and mentally exist by their comfort gave me the ability to survive, which I took advantage of through a system of lies and manipulation to help fuel my addiction. Was I being forced to revisit this memory of my past to taunt the recent horrors I've caused them just days ago when they found out I was a drug fiend. I close my eyes and feel my body arise from its former kneeling position instantaneously upon shutting them. I feel myself now slowly lowering my head in towards where the statue of Mary's face must be. Suddenly, I can feel a distinctive wetness developing on the tip of my upper lip and caressing it's way around my entire mouth until the entirety of my lips are surrounded with the damp and warm feeling of another set of lips.

Opening my eyes I can see that I am far, far away from the church and the glowing ball of white light that once gave me peace. Now miraculously, I am nowhere near the church or any of the visions that transpired and are instead back in my hotel room. #333 in case you forgot. What I believed to be the holy mother of my faith was instead a disgusting slob of a man lying next to me completely naked and fully aroused. His wrinkled skin and disgusting rolls of fat weren't what made me throw up in the back of my throat a bit. It was instead the putrid smell of body odor that emancipated from every pore of his large and loathsome self. Did I ever leave the hotel room? Where the hell have I been for almost three hours?

"Is this your first time or something, baby?"

His question startles me back into the realization that I have to accept this present situation as the truth and what I must now face as my true reality. I refuse to answer the question as I assume he already knew my answer before he even asked. My current physical bodies state of affairs was obviously diminished due to my recent drug abuse, but not to the degree of major malfunction of most of the rest of my street working competitors. I avoid the question easily by proceeding to pleasure him profusely as I figure it best to not dwell any longer in the Madness of my Mind for it has most certainly lost itself. When I; or rather he, is finished the first thing that comes to my mind is my next hit. I guess the feeling of grotesque sex makes you yearn back for that drug of choice. Who would of guessed it? I can see that after my repugnant partner finishes cleaning himself off and dressing himself that he is quickly making his way out of the room. Leaping to my own feet and interjecting his path to the door I hold out my hand like a pathetic begging little homeless bum. He smacks me so hard across the face that I nearly go blind for a brief second.

"Guess you learned a valuable first timer lesson here tonight, eh sweetheart?"

While trying to come to while laying on the ground, I can see the fuzzy figure of a butcher knife sitting on top of a bible conveniently placed on the lamp table between the two beds in my hotel room. I have never seen it there before so I have no idea how it got there. I can only assume that perhaps my wretched visitor had brought it in himself. One thing I am certain about though is that I'm going to fucking use it.

XWF Record
56 - 20 - 1

1 (X) Universal Champion
4 (X) Xtreme Champion
1 (X) Tag Team Champion (w/ Doctor Louis D'ville)
1 (X) Anarchy Champion
2 (X) Superstar of the Month
Hall of Legends member inducted 9/27/20 at Relentless

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