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Robert "The Omega" Main · (05-26-2019)

Prologue

Whether we embrace it or not, War is just a gigantic game, pulled from its box every once and a while. Every time it’s been pulled it’s been for the fate of the XWF. Last time it was March Madness Robert “The Omega” Main - vs - Chris Chaos. This time around against a group of outcasts, heretics looking to take the place by storm. When we do play this game, sometimes we get to be the players. The mighty generals rolling the dice, while others are just soldiers spread across the board.

James was the greatest among us. The one we looked to, the one to lead us to guide us. He had always been a master strategist, leering at it now this was his greatest masterpiece a swan song. Many observed as we were infested, and it happened in an instant. The defenses were ruptured as the horde of heathens rushed through our downed gates. They’ve come to collect their memento. The entire world will watch in astonishment seeing the seemingly impossible being accomplished. They will witness their hero’s stand tall.

What these four apostates are searching for was something more than a trophy. They seek optimism, a brighter future, newly found glory, but their judgement is misguided, and this hope they sought will not be found. In the omission of utopia, these men will become splintered under the compressing weight known as Apex Prophecy. Choices have been made, there was no coming back from, the consequences of this epic match will never be forgotten. An unspeakable price will be paid in their blood.

These marauders are on a suicide mission against the very best this company has to offer. We were best set by the corrupted, dangers lurking around every corner. We all realized if we were to survive this encounter we would have to band together like never before. As one unit, one collective hive mind, a band of brothers willing to lay their lives down for one another no questions asked. We understood going in that there might be casualties, but this was War after all. We each accepted what we were getting into.

So, Amid the darkness encompassing each one of us we found our hope in our friendships, in our family. The bonds of these friendships were impermeable, the knowledge that even in our greatest distress we knew we would not be abandoned. That brought us something we had not known in a very long time. PEACE! At Wargames in our darkest hour, this is what will keep us thriving. After so much struggle this was going to be our moment of reckoning as we stood face to face with the brutes from the past. We will refuse to surrender. Wargames we hit back stiffer than ever before.

“Chronic” Chris Page, Fuzz, MDK and Rage have so many transgressions to pay for, sins of the past, these four men believe that they are the lion hearts. It’s always been about themselves over everything else. Their own power, their own sense of glory, their own pride. In the name of that, they each choose to ignore all their many failures. The double-dealings, the atrocities, the cataclysms they each brought forth. They’ve disguised the truth by trying to bury it in their shame. Building a foundation off secrets and lies.

Eventually, the truth always comes out, and when it does all their walls will come crumbling down on top of them. These men will finally answer for every single act of unrighteousness they’ve committed throughout the years. In the end, they really shouldn’t be awestricken. Wargames these false prophets will turn on one another like the savages they are. They can’t really help themselves, it’s just who they are, engrained in their DNA. This is the story of how these outsiders fell for the last time. The very moment in time they were fragmented forevermore.

Assaulted, as the world gazes upon the devastation we brought forth. How these men managed to fall so far, sinking to a new low losing their way for the final time. They will feel anguish they have never felt. The suffering will become too great. They will beg for the end. But like so many things in life they will not get to choose how it ends. When the four horsemen known as the Apex Prophecy raises their executioner's axe’s these bastards will close their eyes and prepare for their punishment.

The knights in shining armor will overthrow the wicked once more. As the anarchist begin plummeting they will realize the one shot they had left, the one hope still alive in their hearts. Crushed to smithereens. There will be no helping hand to lift them to their feet. Apex Prophecy will misappropriate team Page’s smile along with their principles. As these men descend deeper and deeper into oblivion they will let go taking their final breaths of XWF air. There will no longer be a reason to keep fighting the inevitable as their hope for a brighter future is dashed in a blaze of glory.

Their hearts will fracture into a million pieces, their prayers will go unanswered. It will feel like a cruel joke, heard one too many times before. The cut will be deeper than anything these men have ever felt. With that, it will be over. MKD, Rage, Fuzz and “Chronic” Chris Page will be nothing more than ghosts, the fading remints of a great War they lost. For the four of them, there will only find torment. There is only one path to solitude and that’s...

DEATH!!!!

Continued from War is like love, it always finds a way.

Bob we there yet?

I hate to say this, but I agree with Drew. How much further Robert?

You sound like a bunch of kids.

Robert, your positive no one can find this location

Robert freezes in place cocking his head slightly. Robert then sticks his shovel into the Earth propping himself up with a sadistic grin as he reaches out placing the palm of his hand on Ravens shoulder.

Listen, were so far off the beaten path there’ no cell service for miles, hell GPS doesn’t even work. When I say no one will find them after we're done. I mean just that. Question is who in the hell would go looking for these four dimwits in the first place.

Raven squinted at Robert through his hardened eyes. The commanders-in-chief’s eyes were brown infused with green as if he held the new spring growth inside. They flashed in the darkness of the forest with a razor-sharp luminescence like a tiger stalking his prey. His gaze was savvy, like a professor ready to teach a class. Yet there was a merciless, bloodthirsty side Robert was picking up on. He demanded respect and rightfully so, he guaranteed excruciating consequences for invalidating him.

His stare had the capability to dismember one morsel at a time, bit by bit with the least bit of care. There wasn't anything one could camouflage from his War-torn eyes. They possessed no tenderness or warmth but icy-cold unscrupulous calm. He didn’t seem human when engrossed in one particular subject, a machine and his eyes sold him out every time. The eyes tell the tail and James Raven was ready for War. Robert watched as Raven nods in acceptance. Centurion then interrupts.

Robert’s right. No one is going to come looking for them. Let’s go!

Drew suddenly shouts as Robert Centurion & Raven spin around.

Hey dick head what are you yelling about? How’s about a little more stealth..

Guys I just saw a BIGFOOT!

Raven Centurion & Robert all simultaneously cross their arms letting out a collective sigh.

Oh, you guys are really mature. Fine, don’t believe me. When Bigfoot sneaks up on you don’t say I didn’t warn you. Have you seen him on those Jack Links documentaries on television?

Did you just say Jack Links documentaries?

Uh, there an echo out here in the woods? Yeah, that’s what I said.

Robert stares at the ground chuckling.

What’s so funny Bob? Enlighten me.

Robert looks to his left at Raven then to his right at Centurion

One of you tell him. I’m not going to be the one to burst his bubble this time around.

Tell me what?

Centurion steps forward with his shovel over his shoulder with an entertained look on his face.

Drew those are commercials. You know to get people to buy beef jerky.

Drew seems perplexed then raises his voice now visibly upset

SO YOU ARE TELLING ME DUKE ISN’T REALLY TRYING TO GIVE ME THE SECRET RECIPE TO Bush's Baked Beans?

Drew’s comrades all three shake their heads no unanimously

Damn it! So the Twinkie Kid isn’t real either?

Drew, it’s all marketing man. So you buy shit.

No, no, no, no! My entire life is a lie. I don’t know what to believe now. DAMN IT!

Drew storms by in a rage swinging his shovel around wildly

He always like this?

Robert smirks slapping Centurion on the back.

Absolutely Cent.. Drew tends to fly off the handle from time to time. And it’s freaking hilarious.

The edge of the woods opened into a field as our four heroes inched closer to their final destination the Woodline began to slope down smoothly into a ditch overgrown with weeds and thick lush grass. As the men cross through Robert notices wilds flowers by the dozens. Their smell takes him back to a distinct time in his life when he was a child. His grandmother would pick these flowers, Tiger Lillie’s. Those were her favorite. She would bring in two or three dozen at a time placing them in a vase on her kitchen table. As soon as you’d hit her front door the aroma of wildflowers would take over.

As he walks by he places his hand out allowing the flowers to gently graze his palm paying homage to his late grandmother. Suddenly the four men come to a halt as Robert motions this is the spot. They each take a few moments looking at the ground. The soil was so damp that the worms had surfaced to breathe. Each one digs their shovel deep into the Earth then frantically begins digging the exhumed dirt over their shoulders into neat piles behind them.

Jesus Christ Bobby we digging to China or what?

::::GRUNT, GRUNT, GRUNT, GRUNT::::

Six feet deep Drew.. We talked about this.

::::GRUNT, GRUNT, GRUNT, GRUNT::::

We did?

Yes we did.

I wasn’t paying attention in the team meeting.

::::GRUNT, GRUNT, GRUNT, GRUNT::::

Imagine that!

I wonder if Hoffa is buried out here?

::::GRUNT, GRUNT, GRUNT, GRUNT::::

Why would Hoffa be buried out here?

::::GRUNT, GRUNT, GRUNT, GRUNT::::

Why wouldn’t Hoffa be buried out here?

Valid point.

::::GRUNT, GRUNT, GRUNT, GRUNT::::

Look at all these worms. I knew a guy once who ate a whole carton of Walt’s crawlers just to get some rolling papers.

Stop..

Anyone of you ever had sex on a water bed with no sheets on it?

Raven stops shoveling for a moment leering in Drew’s direction listening intently

I can’t say that I have. Why?

We’ll it kind of like having sex on the table, except when you pull out and your rubber hits the bed there’s more squeaking than an NBA game.

All our heroes laugh out loud

Who the hell has a water bed nowadays?

I do Bob, I do.

You live with me. I know for a fact you don’t have a water bed.

No I do now I ordered one off Amazon. Your Amazon.

How much it cost?

Can you really place a price on comfort Bob?

When it’s my money, yes, yes I can.

It was three thousand dollars free two-day shipping though Bob.. I made sure of the free shipping to save you some cash.

That’s it… I’m changing the password. I’ve told you a million times to stop buying shit.

Robert shakes his head steps up out of his hole he been digging wiping the sweat off his forehead while the other three continue to dig. He clears his voice before speaking

” Chronic” Chris Page, you’ve always had such grand illusions for solving your own predicaments. It’s honestly amusing how you just keep making things worse for yourself. Dissecting your mind isn’t very complicated.

Robert shakes his head

It’s more along the lines of child’s play. Page this match was never about Wargames for you, or about the team of misfits you claim you’ll lead to victory. This isn’t about past feuds or battles from yesteryear. Not even remotely close. In a nutshell, you need the XWF because you have nothing else that’s relevant. Now that that turd wrestling origination you used to wrestle for went belly up you needed something. It’s a thousand wonders a turd of that size didn’t plug the bowl. You need a good…. (Robert pauses) No a tremendous outing that’s why you placed MDK, Rage and Fuzz around you. These men are nothing more than stepping stone for you, you’ll ride their coattails because you can’t hack it all on your own.

These men you call teammates. (Robert snaps his fingers) With in a moment’s notice you’ll stab each and every one of them in the back just to get what you want. An opportunity to run that liars tongue over the sugar cube hoping to get a taste one last time. For a while you even had the wool pulled over my eyes. I actually thought that all of this was because we challenged the world. This match is about something more sinister, this match is about the future of Chris Page. Nothing, more or less, or anything in-between. Wargames is about the crown I wear. Everyone else in this match from top to bottom is nothing more than pawns in a game you are trying to playing. You have no doubt you are the puppet master pulling the strings, you my friend are sadly mistaken.

You crave relevance because without it you fade away. You become obsolete. It’s always been about the selfish, egotistical “Chronic” Chris Page. Once those cage doors are padlocked behind us Team Page will become scorched Earth. There’s only one way out of the mess you brought into existence, and that’s on a stretcher clinging to life. We don’t shoot to incapacitate, we shoot to kill. Page I want you to understand something. Try really hard for me here. Follow the bouncing ball. I know the I.Q isn’t there from all the herb abuse, but I’ll try anyway. Now I don’t have crayons to draw you pictures, or fancy sock puppets to try and explain this. I came up grinding here in XWF, everything that I accomplished, I did it the way it was intended. I was never spoon fed and contrary to popular opinion I earned the right to be Universal Champion.

So, let me clear the air for the last time. I know some people behind the scenes like to whisper in the shadows. Saying I didn’t earn this Championship. I wrestled ENGY and he beat me. I had some left and cashed in the briefcase I won at Leap Of Faith leaving a greasy spot in the ring after I was done swinging that chair. I did it no differently than anyone else would have. I never once cut in line or demanded a solitary thing. What you need to realize right now is the ring you used to wrestle in never belonged to you. It’s always belonged to James Raven and Centurion. That right there isn’t me blowing smoke up your ass it’s the cold hard truth. Drew and I are just two newly added wrinkles claiming ownership. You insist that after this match you will take my Championship from me?

You demand a Universal Championship match? First, you don’t demand a damn thing from me. Secondly, be careful, all the bleeding hearts out there will swiftly point to the title rankings threatening to burn you at Salem. They’ll get up in arms Chris. That being said, tell me how you’ll have a leg to stand on after you get schooled at Wargames? You won’t. Chris you are not going to just waltz in here and leapfrog the entire roster just because you thought you mattered many moons ago. You see it’s my way or no way. I thought Lux might have hit the nail on the head when he said you reminded him of another Chris. Same song and dance you just seem to be stupider than he ever did. I’ve got a certain knack for taking guys named Chris and ruining their careers. You are no different old man. You are so damn old you have what? (Robert begins counting his fingers) A dozen fans still living?

You’re not a man Page you’re a bitch who buddies up and switches sides when thing are not going according to plan. Your career is nothing more than one big rodeo, one where you rode dick to get everything you have. The only “Chronic” thing about you is hogging up the spotlight from others who deserve it. That limelight never followed you to, to begin with. You’ve come at us with idle threats and guarantees, Page tough-talking us four gets you fucked up tossed into a trunk and taken to the ICU of the nearest hospital. Apex Prophecy rolls together in a pack like wolves, you won’t find one sheep among us. Don’t worry though before the bell sounds we will take a moment of silence, before the four innovators of violence rains down hellfire on each of your pathetic hides.

You’ve cut two promos now and I haven’t even responded to anything that you had to say yet. All this is just reading in-between the lines and judging your shit character. This entire thing is going to be over before it even gets started. Team Page won’t even get out of the blocks. Chris, you have led the lambs to the slaughter and by the time the dust settles each of you will be greeting St. Peter at the pearly gates if you’re lucky. I assassinated a miscreant at March Madness, bringing forth a new monstrosity, but don’t worry for a second, I’ll obliterate you just like everyone else. I’ve slashed my way through a considerable line of bustards thrashing each one with surgical precision. If your only goal is stopping me, you had better get some better dreams. Now that you have grown decrepit you resent who you’ll never be. All you are is a broken-down shell of a man on his knees. Willing to swallow any amount of baby gravy it takes to just stay around. As long as Apex Prophecy exist, Chris page will not!

Oh, before I forget. “Chronic” Chris Page. Here’s a little sign language.

Robert flips the camera off with both barrels. Hoping back into his hole and begins digging continues on.

We are going to beat the four of you cock jockeys until you are blind, and as each of you lie there pleading for your pathetic lives, screaming in agony. We will continue to carpet bomb until there is nothing left. You four needle dicked butt fuckers are walking into a buzz saw that will cut you into little scraps.

Robert stabs his shovel into the ground for the last time his head and shoulders are the only thing visible from the hole. He takes a couple of steps forward laying his arms on the cool Earth bracing himself.

You know I’ve got scars from head to toe, working for the company I love. I’ve always been told I was born to raise hell and come Wargames I’ll serenade the ring will unmitigated destruction. I’ve never cowered from another man, never run from adversity, I’ve weathered every storm that has ever come my way. I’ve never retreated and never will. This company is what I stand for, I stand for my family right here with me tonight digging the four of you mother fuckers graves. When push comes to shove, I stand up and rise above everything else. I man up and throw these two hands (Robert clinches his fist) until there is only one man standing and generally that man is me. If anyone ever wants to see the bottom of my boots all they have to do is say something.

I’ve never been afraid of hard work and long hours when the barn burns, I’ve still got dirt all over my hands from the empire that Apex Prophecy has built single-handedly. Along the way, we have realized that what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. You four ass hats don’t have what it takes to break us, no one does. Wargames we will take out the trash yet again, just like we have done so many times before. Like the others, before you, we will put you on each of your asses. That’s just who we are and what we bring to this match. We are cut from a much different cloth than any of you. I’ve said this in the past and I’ll say this again right here. I don’t need to respond, I just need to show up and get to work.

Page, MDK, Rage, Fuzz, you are louts, creatine's and this time that arrogance you each wear on those sleeves, those chips on each of your shoulders… Started a War none of you will survive. Every day I’ve been holding this monster inside me at bay. Wargames I unchain the demon, the same barbarian I expelled upon Chris Chaos, no more kid gloves. I will incinerate the flesh from your bones one by one until there is nothing left, all while I laugh. There have been whispers deep in the shadows that this will be Apex Prophecies final stand, we have met our match. Our maker. I am here to say after we slaughter each one of you those whispers will be silenced.

The camera pans past each member of Apex Prophecy each standing in front of the graves they dug for each member of Team Page. Then comes to a halt as Centurion speaks tossing a hand full of dirt back into the grave.

Wargames we conquer our demons!

The camera halts at Robert who picks the Universal Championship up from the ground placing over his dirt covered shoulder.

We burry our skeptics.

Drew wipes dirt from the Tag Team Championships slapping it over his shoulder.

We prove there isn’t a weak link in this chain.

Finally the camera stops at James Raven who smirks

Wargames we show why “Life's Easy”!

After all that I’m starving. Who wants Mexican?

STATIC

Outro

Conflict is upon us, you can hear it off in the distance as the war machine moves closer. The shrieks of the four has-beens have been deafening. Can you sense the electricity in the stratosphere? Bloodshed is coming, there's nowhere the rats will be able to find safe harbor. Locked away inside hell with their enemies. There will be no advance notice as Apex Prophecy begins the termination, as each incendiary device is dropped catastrophe will find it’s mark. With each weapon detonated, one by one Chris Page, Fuzz, MDK and Rage will be flattened. Team Page cannot rush to sanctuary, there is no escape from this blitzkrieg. The collision is coming can you feel it deep in those rotting bones? Has the uneasiness set in? The nervousness taken over those four minds? Has dread become each of your best-kept secrets? The crusade is here, thrashing at the door with hammering blows. Soon the greatest clobbering in XWF history begins, the trouncing of a lifetime. Wargames is ground zero as the Molotov cocktail explodes burning Team Page down to its foundation. Welcome to annihilation.

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Only the dead have seen the end of war.
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