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JimCaedus · (03-08-2019)

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CAEDUS REWIND: When last we saw Jim way back in March of 2018 he, along with APEX, was attempting to pay off an outstanding debt owed to the Pappalardo Family, a successfully secretive La Cosa Nostra chapter out of Primm, Nevada who defined payment as the death of Snoop Dogg due to perceived disrespect towards Italians over the "Doggfather" album; a capo named Carmine acting as Jim's communicator between he and Don Pappalardo himself. Oh right, heh, and there's an extraterrestrial being with cosmic powers similar to Phantom Panzer named Lord Trash Can (coincidentally literally a living, breathing trash can with the power cosmic) who's supposed to be watching over the Multiverse Midden but is instead enjoying life on earth, remember? ..._No_!? Psh...

"Deus ex Machina: Alpha"

XWF REWIND: Turning Point 2018

As Jim Caedus stumbles around the back, holding his head, disgruntled and pissed about his loss to the Engineer, he isn't paying attention. Jenny, who is holding her back and wincing, upset over her most recent Bombshell Title loss, also isn't paying attention. She walks smack into the chest of Jim.

She looks up, and he looks down (presumably for the same reason everyone else in Jenny Myst's presence looks down: to catch a glimpse of that infamous bump she proudly calls a penis and Chris Chaos calls a light snack).

"Da fuck. Watch where I'mma walkin' slut".

Jenny, in no mood to play games, tries to walk past Jim. He steps to the side, blocking her path.

"For real, Jim?"

"Whattya you gon' do?"

Jenny bites her lip, wincing and holding her back. "I am not gonna go anything, Jim."

He seems a bit taken aback at this response, probably because he doesn't understand what "I am not gonna go anything" is supposed to mean exactly.

"But......"

He tilts his head.

"He is."

Jim was about to say, "da fuck?" but got cut off by Chaos, who comes out of nowhere with a lead pipe to the side of Jim's head. Caedus is knocked off balance and falls into some crates and boxes by the wall. Chris and Jenny begin to stomp on Jim. Chris takes the pipe and begins to hammer down body shots on Jim, and he groans with each one.

"Yeah! Who can't beat who now, Jim?! Who...can't....beat......WHO!"

He fires another shot down onto Caedus, this time connecting with his face and drawing blood.

He picks up Jim by his scraggly Viking hair and throws him face first into the wall, leaving a red, head shaped stain. Caedus begins to stumble away as Jenny and Chris give chase. Caedus stumbles into the parking lot, and looks around, panting, seemingly having gotten away from them.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, he is hit with a massive SPEAR and is driven hard onto the concrete. A truck skids up to a stop. Erik Black jumps out. Jenny appears into the picture and stomps on Jim a few times.

Throwing Jim into the passenger seat, Erik jumps into the back with Jenny as Chaos jumps into the driver seat. Black wraps a belt around Caedus's throat and pulls, keeping him at bay for the drive.

The truck peels out of the parking garage.

The scene cuts to the truck driving on a bridge. We get a shot of a few gas cannisters in the back. The truck skids to a stop. Jenny and Erik jump out. They take the gas cans and begin to douse the truck in it.

Chaos slams Jims head off the dashboard. He then gets out of the car with a lighter in his hand.

Chaos grins a wicked grin as he says, "Whose the Apex now?"

He lights the lighter.

"Empire, bitch!"

Chris lights the truck on fire.

Chaos takes a brick out of the truck just before it goes up in flames. He quickly puts it on the gas, the engine revs.

"Long live Empire........" And it didn't.

He steps away as the truck screeches into the median, crashing through it and off the bridge!

The truck plummets down.................

Down..............

Down.............

It crashes on the ground below, exploding on impact.

::END FOOTAGE::

"And here we have the return reveal recently broadcast live."

We watch as the events closing the 02/13/2019 edition of Warfare play out.

::END FOOTAGE::

"Alright people, there you have it, two clear choices. Are we going with the "Afterbirth Found in XWF HQ Restroom Sink Matches Chris Chaos Vaginal Swab" for the undoubtedly aesthetically pleasing cover story here or "The Return of Jim Caedus"? I vote Caedus."

-->Content Meeting for XWF monthly publication "The Anus"
Date: 2-26-2019
Time: 9:49 AM
Location: in lieu of HQ fumigating, Editor-In-Chief Phil Annal (pronounced "anal")'s brother's wife's sister's house, the sewing room boardroom<--

"Caedus."

"Caedus."

"Caedus."

"Yep, Caedus."

"Definitely Caedus. He's 100% Anus."

The door to the "boardroom" is suddenly and angrily flung open. A furious beast storms in before violently slamming the door closed behind itself.

"(sigh) Truck, Maggie, he didn't get outta the cockadoodie truck. You're late by the way."

"How can you downplay this Phil!? You're editor-in-chief of The Anus and The Anus does not pucker up for quackyflocking fraudster keister!! Chris Chaos killed Jim Caedus in the end!! HOW IS HE STILL ALIIIIIIIIIVE!!??"

"Does it matter?"

"Of COURSE it matters!! Jim Caedus? Mr. Aha? Mr. ALWAYS pointing out his opponents' mistakes like he never makes a ONE!? ALWAYS POKING FUN ABOUT IT! ALWAYS HUMILIATING-"

"-CHRIS CHAOS??" Maggie's head snaps right to glare with bug-eyed incredulity. "'Cause that's what this is really all about isn't it Maggs, you being his number one fan and you wanting so badly to take your Queer Corner article with it's consistent coverage of Chris Chaos and Jenny Myst from page 25 to the head of the line."

Maggie's bug-eyes narrow with murderous spite.

Chilling tone delivered slowly. "Yyyooooooou... You dirty bird... Queer Corner, Chris's lime-sized gal-button, Jenny's tandem functional peengina, their uplifting and inspiring trans-poly-hoohah-double-you-tee-effsexual relationship, my chronicling of said beautiful relationship and all three of us existing as pillars in the LGBBQ community have nothing to do with this and could never be sullied with an oversimplificockadoodiecation like the term "number one fan"...

"LGBTQ."

"I know that MR. MAN, I'm just getting flustered! The issue here is we as a publication cannot in good conscience sleight our readers with the illogical and unrealistic! Case in point: a man irrefutably dying in an explosion only to reappear in perfect health nearly a year later!"

"Illogical and unrealistic? Maggie, we employ a talking trash can. He's one of our best editorialists."

"That I am, thank you Phil and up yours Maggie. Oh and Chris Chaos sucks. At everything. It's quite fascinating."

"I'M GONNA KILL YOU YOU INEXPLICABLE COCKSUCKER!!"

Maggie dives onto the meeting table to slide across and tackle the galvanized steel trash can sitting peacefully in a chair. The two hit the floor and become a chaotic rolling mishmash of grappling punches and lid swinging.

"Perhaps _I_ can clear up this controversy."

"JIM CAEDUS!"

"Sup." Standing in the now open doorway.

Rising to her feet, her nose bleeding. "No... It can't be..."

Floating to his upright position, his rim bleeding. "Jiiiiiiiiiim!"

"Trash Caaaaan! Gimme some lid!"

"LORD Trash Can." Lid-fives Jim's right palm with a CLANG.

To the majority-elated group, cheerfully. "So the world needs an explanation huh? Okie dokie. I just happen to have the answer _right_ here..." Produces a recordable DVD from his left pocket.

Receives DVD-R. "Wonderful! Let's pop it on in..." Loads DVD-R into blu-ray player tray.

"-and PROVE this is all a dookiedilly LIE!"

::START FOOTAGE::

4K camera footage begins to roll unveiling a night ISIS execution, two robed men holding shotguns point-blank to the heads of two men on their knees. A third unarmed man speaks in his native tongue to our POV.

A CRASH sounds, interrupting the speech.

Our POV tilts upward to see a truck in flames falling from the bridge high above.

The next several moments are a flurry of motion and panicked voices. We catch a glimpse of the prisoners dashing away to safety in the opposite direction and another of the three ISIS members dashing towards our retreating POV-

KRAKATHOOOOM!!!

-and our POV is suddenly airborne and tumbling amidst the trailing edge of a fiery explosion-

-a tumbling shot of an impossibly pristine (with the exception of his hair being on fire) Jim Caedus, also airborne, grinning. He reaches out to snatch our POV then winks to the lens. A sudden distraction sees him reach down out of frame with his free hand to return holding his phone for the purpose of answering an incoming call...

"GO FOR CAEDUS!! ...... WHAT!?? ...... WHAAAAAAT!??? ...... YOU'RE GONNA HAFTA SPEAK UP, I'M SHOOTING THROUGH THE EARTH'S LOWER ATMOSPHERE OVER CAIRO!! ...... YES, I'VE HAD RECENT PHYSICAL CONTACT WITH A HIGH RANKING DEMON: WHEN ROBERT, DREW AND I WENT TO HELL TO FIGHT FOR ROBERT'S SOUL, WHY?? ...... I'VE BEEN DIAGNOSED WITH _WHAT_?? ...... THE FUCK IS _BEELZECZEMA_!!?? ...... UH HUH...UH HUH... ...... SYMPTOMS INCLUDE IMMUNITY TO EXPLOSIONS WITH AN EPIDERMAL INABILITY TO BURN?? ...... HAIR TOO??" Jim's long blonde locks suddenly extinguish, all damage reversing. "NEAT!! ...... OK, TALK TO YOU LATER, I'M BEGINNING MY DESCENT!!"

Expertly, Jim catches his descent and landing with the 4K camera, displaying remarkable precision as he lands atop the pinnacle of a massive pyramid on ONE LEG WITH THE TIP OF HIS BOOT and the grace of a flamingo, his arms spread wide dramatically like wings.

Hollering triumphantly. "MIIIIIIC DROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-"

"Grrrrrrrrr."

Sheepishly. "Sorry, just having a little fun there. Ok for reals this time..."

::START FOOTAGE::

What displays now appears to be a professional endeavor including impossible angles with cinematography and special effects rivaling any popcorn action blockbuster in recent years.

We watch as a flaming semi pulling a trailer roars off the bridge in slow motion.

CUT TO-

Caedus coming to in the truck's cab mere moments before it hits...

...and it does...

...the impact of which appears to somehow blow Jim back through both cab and trailer exterior into the interior of the trailer...

Narrating. "Apparently the original trucker had been hauling some kinda advanced scientific equipment 'cause then _this_ happened..."

"Uh, Jim?"

Narrating. "The explosion came from within the trailer and was caused by the equipment, see, and I was disintegrated at ground zero. Everyone knows I'm notoriously hard to kill though, so naturally next thing I knew I was reassembling my atoms in the XWF Wellness Center physician's cafeteria!"

"Jim??"

"And voila, THAT'S how I became Dr. Manhattan."

"JIM!"

"Okaaay, okaaaaay..."

::START FOOTAGE::

At once we can see Jim Caedus via his own phone, extending his arm out and up to record himself at optimal selfie angle. Behind him we see the lights of passing vehicles, his rental pulled off to the narrow shoulder of the bridge he's apparently located on and an absolute sexpot of a young lady having a devil of a time changing the right rear flat tire of Jim's very rental.

"I can't see, Jiiiiiim. You're hogging all the liiiiiiiiight."

Defensive tone, to the camera. "_What_? I _tried_ to do it myself but she got all pissy, I swear. Started screeching about big strong men and gender equality." Over his shoulder. "You're doin' just fine sweetheart." Back to the camera. "Anyhoo, I uh... I have something to say..." Pauses.

Jim's expression suddenly appears to drain of any good-natured positivity, his face robbed of any of the happiness he'd been known to exhibit since the formation of APEX. In its place, a visage of regret and sadness.

".........To my brothers and closest friends Robert Main and Drew Archyle, I apologize for what transpired a day before Turning Point was to go live...

Bros, if my actions seemed extreme, rash and unjustified it's because......well......they were...and they were perpetrated by a man who hadn't been as forthcoming with the problems in his personal life as he should have been...... A man who allowed those problems to take root and poison his mind against sensibility. A man who then lashed out at those closest to him. A man who attacked the integrity of the very entity who, when no one else would, gave him the opportunities he needed to not only succeed in this business like never before but also successfully flip his shambles of a life around...the XWF and it's brass. A man......a _bitch_ who turned his back on all of you...his peers, his friends and his fans, even his enemies...like the scumbag piece o' fuckin' shit he tried so hard NOT to be......and ultimately failed.

Then some other shit happened and that kinda made it seem impossible to fix the situation but that's beside the point really and a confidential issue I can't really address at this time. All I can say is, Robert, Drew...I have to disappear for awhi-"

CRASH

Shocked out of his apparent goodbye video. "Holy SHIT!!"

Our POV spins around to see a truck in flames going over the side of the bridge, a few people -->perhaps the guilty party<-- watching in close proximity to the truck.

"HOOOOOOOLYYYYYYYY _SHIT_!!"

::BLACK::

Switched off the blu-ray player personally, now pinning Jim with her murderous gaze. "Yyyyyooooooouuuu..."

"Me?"

"Yyyyyooooooouuuu...caught you right in the act you lying little dirty bird..."

"I hate to say it Jim...but she's right. How can you have been there on the bridge filming at that exact time when anyone who saw Turning Point 2018 saw you lose to Engy, you get jumped in the halls...and you go over the bridge in that flaming truck?"

"Oh that's easy, that _wasn't_ me."

Enraged disbelief. "WHAT!?"

"Yeah that was the grand prize winner of my XWF-unsanctioned "Be Caedus For A Day" contest, Tommy Pagliacci outta Brooklyn. Didn't anyone notice his accent and braindead way of speaking before he got jumped by Chaos and crew? For fucksake, he said "Watch where I'mma walkin' slut" and "Whattya you gon' do about it?". That sound like _me_ or like some giddy asshat's amateur rushed attempt to mimic my charmingly coarse speaking style? How about the fact he couldn't pull off my finisher correctly during the match? I mean what the fuck people, he didn't look _THAT_ much like me did he?" Jim receives nods in return from most in attendance. "Oh."

"Do you really expect us to believe that someone ELSE was competing in your place??"

"I have to agree with her again, Jim. How could this "Tommy Pagliacci" possibly have been cleared for competition?"

"Well accordin' to YOU people he looked just _like_ me so I'd assume no one was the wiser. Other than that, he actually turned out to be one legally savvy lil' sumbitch; found a loophole in the grand prize contract paperwork that essentially allowed him to hijack _me_, making him a literal Jim Caedus for a day, I even had to pay his travel expenses to get him to Egypt. The whole reason I wound up on the same bridge as Chaos and company cuntpany in the first place came about from my well-known debt to a certain crime family outta Primm, Nevada, the timing mere coincidence. See, I was sittin' alone in the APEX locker room..."

::FLASHBACK::

::Night of XWF Turning Point 2018::

We see Jim sittin' alone in the APEX locker room on a bench watching "Jim Caedus" fall live in record time to The Engineer on a monitor.

Sour. "Well, that's that ain't it? Bye credibilityyyy, bye byyyyyyye!"

::BVVVVVVT ... BVVVVVVT::

Answering his phone. "Go for Caedus. ......" Face suddenly pales. "_Carmine_. ...How...how'd you get my number? Oh right, you've had it the whole time, never mind. So uh- ...... Ok look, I know I didn't exactly get around to killing Snoop Dogg as you all in the Pappalardo crime family ordered me to so as to free up both myself and therefore my bud Drew from that debt we can't refuse but- ...... Yeah but- ...... What!? Hold up, I _ain't_ goin' to _Australia_, I have a life and a CAREER to worry abou- ...... Noooo no no no, I will NOT be your good little bitch who will now embark on a one-man fuck-all down under to steal for YOUR boss in an effort to not only weaken-so-as-to-destroy but also embarrass and settle a personal score _with_ the Australian chapter of the Calabrese 'Ndrangheta, MAKE ME!! ... K, when's my flight?"

::FLASHBACK END::

"Then I ended up on the bridge en route to the airport. There. Satisfied?"

"Yes."
"Yes."
"Yes."
"NO!!"
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Yes."

Exasperation.
"OOOH!!"
"OOOH!!"
"OOOH!!"
"OOOH!!"
"OOOH!!"
"OOOH!!"

Maggie turns slowly to Jim.

"No, I'm not satisfied...and you won't get away with this, I swear it. This is going to be the new Era of Chaos. Target: Jim Cae-"

"-dus's musky bunghole and mayo nuts, yeah, I'm familiar with Christy's less-than-subtle sexy, sexy, violent-though-understandable obsession with me and his dreams of gently finger-probing my taint whilst finishing my meaty prick in his mouth as Jenny Myst fucks me from behind tapping her right webbed-toed clubfoot to the rhythm of Pharrell's "Happy" and climaxing to visions of Facebooklive suicides dancing in her head as Chaos squirts recalling killing me despite my balls draining down his throat while he does it, we're _all_ VERY familiar."

"FUCK YOU!"

"You're HOT when you're pissed ma'am, you know that?"

Maggie shrieks in rage then angrily lobs a smoke bomb to the floor at her feet, discharged black clouds enveloping her. When they've dissipated, she's vanished... Jim dashes over to inspect the area.

"_Cool_!! ...Well, guess there ain't much left to do here but wipe my ass... Gives a sidelong glance to the camera as if just now noticing the existence of the lens. Starting in mock surprise, he spins to face our pov. "_Chris_!? Chris _CHAOS_!? O-M-F'ing-G it's been AGES girl!! Sooooo? How them titties doin', how's Empire coming alo- ...oh, that's right, #CHAOS. My bad." Sudden warning tone and gaze. "Ey hold up...you been keepin' that pussy _tight_ for me while I was gone right? Don't lemme find out you been lettin' everybody pound that pink pocket in my absence, I swear to God, ho. I mean, my bro Main don't count, we always pass pussy around. Oh and of course my bro _Drew_ is free to fillet that fish too, should he ever feel less disinclined to have to scrub your brassy, vinegary juices from his flare gun (not a euphemism) following the act (he's incorrigible, it's awesome) but if you been takin' anyone ELSE'S penetration you and I are _through_ young lady!"

Expression of surprise, followed by a softening to a warm smile. "Look at us. Just like old times huh, babe? I call you a chick, I dig at your lack of success, you'll attempt to undercut my worth, accuse me of having lost my spark and say I'm hittin' you with the same ol' same ol' and I'll respond..." Smile fades.

"If the fleshlight fits...

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Segue with me will you?

Correct, Chris, the ammo I've been hurling your way is not at all dissimilar to the shells I was rockin' you with over a year ago...but then, in my combined preemptive defense/I-definitely-woulda-said-this-anyway attack, what's changed about you? You're the same self-centered emo control-freak (ironically named Chaos, go figure) pissant you were when I left. The only difference _now_ is instead of competing, as one would expect from a former Universal Champion still sadly lurking like some creeper alumni in the high school parking lot hopin' a half pack o' smokes and an open beer will get 'im some statutory puss', you're off sittin' Indian style naked in poorly lit rooms head tilted forward ever so slightly, savoring your own stink and gigglin' like a buffoon sporting an alarmingly substantial chunk of human meat and skin which, by the way, looks suspiciously like it used to be someone's swollen pooper. Come to think of it...you've murdered before, where's your former Empire comrade Erik Black? ...Oh Christ, he's in a shallow grave missin' an ass, isn't he Chris? You actually have your head up Erik Black's abducted anus don't you, that shit ain't no face mask. Fuck happened to you? Playin' the role of the resident rosey-cheeked, gas-blowin' shithead wasn't enough, you felt compelled to _look_ the part? (sigh) Don't know why I'm surprised, you were always makin' an ass outta yourself, clearly you were destined to wear one...and apparently assmask prevents you from speaking most of the time, so, at the very least something positive came out of this aside from your HIV test.

Nevertheless, I'm confident you'll have plenty to say anyway; for you, ultimately, it's all about praising yourself, hypin' yourself and hearin' yourself talk, it's your default setting you unjustifiably arrogant mungmuppet. After all, without a dick it's difficult to literally self-suck so next best thing right? I think _this_ time, however, for _you_...it ain't JUST about you. Is it...

Is it, Chris...

Circling right back around to the fact you've been doin' fuckall for weeks on end to entertain the fans or resuscitate your own languishing career (you can't do that weekly over in WOW on AXS TV? You gotta do it here?), other than a costume change and expecting a Uni Title shot for bein' a lax, worthless jagoff of course, neither of which fall under the category of entertaining the fans (unless you count laughing _at_ you), what was it that finally got you up off your ass to put on Erik Black's ass and act, at long last, like a competitor? A competitor wearing an ass.

It wasn't booking.

Nope, booking has enough, what with the names on the roster who're actually puttin' in work for this company, to worry about without havin' to take on the added strain of pushin' an anatomy class cosplayer whose own efforts amount to insisting he Gollum it up in the shadows until a champ approach on his or her knees and offer up his or her head and precious free of charge.

Douche.

It wasn't Robert Main, the XWF Universal Champion.

Oh sure fam, Chris would absolutely be willing to get up 'n go diRECTLY into an XWF Universal Title match with my brother Bob Main if Main offered the opportunity...but that's only because Chaos honestly believes he's better than Bob. And for the record, that, ladies and gentlemen, is the Chaos m.o.; accept an opportunity to take what he then perceives he _already_ has in the bag from an opponent he thinks is beneath him, damn the concept of a challenge. What other explanation is there for Chaos stubbornly refusing so long to take Bob up on his generous offer of facing a mystery opponent of his choosing in exchange for a Uni title shot should he prevail?

Don't waste your time, viewers, there is no other explanation. Chaos (here comes that irony again) avoids the unpredictable as often as possible. Doesn't fit into his grand scheme of dominating over the XWF like some spineless prick in a caged hunt. Only reason he finally capitulated to the concept is due to the fact even _he_ has limits on looking _too_ much like a pussy.

Douche.

By the way, _you_, Chris? Better than Robert Main?" Jim's visage darkens. He slightly lowers his head, menacingly bordering his cold blue stare with his brow and takes a step closer to the camera, a faint snarl now curling his upper lip. "You ever disrespect my brother like that again and I'll jam my hands up your slit, tie your tubes, rip 'em out and garrote you with 'em to the point of passin' out then release and repeat the process until I'm convinced your brain has accrued enough damage to have erased every last delusion of grandeur.

You're lucky Bob didn't just say hell with it and stomp you right the fuck out for ol' time's sake, cocksucker. You remember...that ol' time I let you join Ax3 (that's right Chris, _I_ and _I_ alone; the homies would've preferred I dunked your face in liquid nitrogen and pissed on it), gave you a shot at friendship, at brotherhood, at evolving, so naturally you tried to divide _us_ and hilariously with little effort we flushed _you_ and your brutal protruding southern womanhood like the very same pungent pull-string sloughsicles you clogged the Ax3 locker room rump-receivers with, ya yeasty fuckin' flap-scratchin' stable-slut.

So anyway...if it wasn't the bookers, Bob or even your own (absence of) work ethic...what was it that lit a fire under that lump of labial cysts?

Meh. Ain't no point in delaying saying what we all already know any longer... _I'm_ the one who got you movin', Chris...but that's hardly as damning a FACT as the FACT I'm ALSO the reason you've been off pouting in the dark for however many months.

Go ahead, try and deny it.

You thought killing me in and of itself was your golden ticket to the XWF stratosphere, it's more than apparent in the fact you used my "death" as the setting for your promo series during the Leap of Faith 2018 hype cycle: "In Memorium", "Exhume" and "Posthumous". And why not? Killing Jim Caedus _should_ amount to SOME degree of bragging rights, shouldn't it? And yet, golly gee, the roster didn't line up to worship you afterward did they? Imagine that.

Lo and behold, you also didn't magically become any stronger, faster or tougher in the ring. Shit, you didn't even improve on the mic you fucking hack...and it all boils down to this: you made the most critical error you ever could've made in deciding to ride _my_ carcass to the stars...

...you forgot you're Chris Chaos.

Impotent.

Ineffectual.

Incompetent.

With the man you'd been claiming was barring your way to stardom now "dead" and gone and you STILL failing to accomplish anything spectacular in the wake of it all...it started to sink in that you're simply pathetic whether I'm here or not and you finally realized the truth: at least when I AM here in the XWF, it makes Chris Chaos mean something.

Allow me to explain...

Back in late 2016/early 2017, before my rise to success in this company, the top dog was nothing more than a sacless bully who was always trying to avoid legitimate competition by attempting to grant his Uni title defenses to any rookie new-hire who dared to look in his direction and who made a habit of physically threatening members of the brass like my bud Paul Heyman...and boy did that bully ever enjoy his lofty and underserved position.

Sound familiar Chris? Of course it does, it's the anticlimactic story of your Universal Championship douchebaggery. And we both know what happened then, don't we? Some OTHER douchebag, the unfortunately dikey-haircutted G[bleep] R[bleep], did the only thing anyone in this company will ever applaud him for: he crushed you and took away your Uni title.

By the time I cashed in with my first 24/7 briefcase and snatched the top strap for myself, now twice removed from your fuzzy palms, you were chompin' at the bit to take BACK what you thought was rightfully yours and you were determined to do so in our triple threat match at High Stakes II.

You failed.

Not long after that, I lost the strap to a cash-in by then-Bruce Blingsteen...and in true cowardly "predator" fashion, who was there IMMEDIATELY across the ring from me in my VERY next match attempting to capitalize on what HE thought was a broken Jim Caedus?

You.

Who won?

Me.

Three months later you and I wound up among several other names in the same race to win a new 24/7 case, which for us meant a chance at reclaiming our former glory and for you alone meant FINALLY defeating Jim fucking Caedus: the 2017 Leap of Faith Rafter Match. In the end it was _indeed_ the two of us dangling from the briefcase hanging in the air high above the ring, a flurry of punches and kicks. You fought like a warrior.

You would NOT allow me to vanquish you again.

You were SAVAGE.

You were UNSTOPPABLE.

You were UNBEATA-

3-0 Caedus.

You ALMOST redeemed yourself at Doc's Shove-It when you won _alongside_ me to become Tag Champs (hey, SOMEONE else had to win to fulfill the requirements didn't they?). Unfortunately for you...you ARE Chris Chaos. You refused, for the SECOND TIME (the first being your Uni title reign), to treat the gold and position you held with respect...so Engy deftly backhanded you out of the Tag Title picture.

I'm assuming it was at that point, the point EVERYONE was laughing at you, that you completely lost it and relinquished whatever feeble grasp you had on reality in the first place to begin plotting my murder. A plot you carried out to success, or so you thought, only to discover what I've just now lain out for all to absorb...

Herald back once more to Ax3 REFUSING to let you in knowing full well you'd try and sabotage us...and me allowing you entry into the cliq ANYWAY.

Do you get it yet, Chris?

_With_ me in the XWF, there's a name on the Top 50 Stars O.A.T. who will actually give you the time of day and ALLOW you to REPEATEDLY inject your sorry self into his mix despite the fact you consistently come out looking like a joke and a fucking idiot. And you do, believe me.

_Without_ me in the XWF however, you don't even have THAT...instead finding yourself ignored and an inch away from defining NOTHING at all times. Even the opponents who _know_ you can defeat them refuse to show you any respect and you're a name amongst the TOP 50 OF ALL TIME ranked HIGHER than _I_ am. Hell, your own Uni Title reign never got as much press as our lengthy feud did...because joke or not, I make you a topic of discussion.

I make you relevant to the now.

When you lost that- I'm sorry, when you SURRENDERED that by murdering "me" -you lost your desire. A desire it seems nothing less than a free shot at the Uni strap could restore. That is of course, until _I_ dropped back in at Warfare...

Now it's no longer "waste away wearing an ass" time, it's "Target: Jim Caedus" time.

Jim Caedus.

A man YOU YOURSELF have gone on record MULTIPLE TIMES to state you can't defeat, yet you're finally perkin' up and enthusiastically presenting not one but TWO asses for me to kick.

But of course you are...

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...and now, you can _be_ somebody again. Even if that somebody is nothin' more than a Jim Caedus punchline...it definitely kicks the hell outta solely being Chris Chaos, doesn't it.

You're welcome motherfucker.

Now pull your head outta Erik's ass and come at me with everything you've got. Fit in as many weightless proclamations, flaccid rebuttals and pointless attacks as possible 'cause you know GODDAMN WELL for you, now, this is no longer about the Universal Title shot, oh no.

No, for you it's all about Jim. Caedus.

And for Jim Caedus?

Well...just ask Robert Main; he's the one who gave Jim Caedus the greatest 39th birthday present anyone could've ever given him at this point...

Chris Chaos.

On a silver fucking platter."

Sparing a few more seconds to stare into the lens, Jim then turns his gaze to those in attendance, their faces betraying enjoyment in having personally witnessed his first trash talking tirade in nearly a year.

"Lord Trash Can."

"Yo."

"Cosmic powers kickin'?"

"Nigga, what the fuck you think?"

"Then gemme outta here, I've gotta get back to New Zealand. Oh and Phil, you can keep the DVD-R."

With that, Jim, Lord Trash Can and our POV are suddenly immersed in an intensifying and blindingly bright white light-

::STATIC::

::Still in the "boardroom", now off-camera::

"Ok people, NEW cover story..."The XWF'S Own Chris Chaos Guilty of Murdering Innocent Fan". Hey Chuck? Get me the local police on the line." Holds up Jim's DVD-R containing the evidence of foul play. "They'll want to review this and pass it along to whichever U.S. authority one American citizen murdering another abroad falls under."

Already dialed 911, now handing the phone to Phil. "Here you go boss..."

FADE TO BLACK

TO BE CONTINUED...

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