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Robert "The Omega" Main · (07-27-2019)

A few days ago on Savage Robert threw a new wrinkle into his match against Chris Page, signing the contract in Pages freshly squeezed blood. Page will tell you he is a vicious veteran, as diabolical as they come. This is the very same man who walks around puffing his chest out begging for a fight. Chris has continuedly played the tough guy role flawlessly. A man who affirms he’s as hungry as they come yet hides behind his “brothers”. A strong-minded gritty all-or-nothing steely son of a bitch. Unfaltering, brave-hearted conditioned to devastate anything in his path win or lose. Page and his fellow short bus riders have dismantled start after star pulverizing their way into power. They’ve certainly made a beautiful mess of things. It's a delightful tale, but nothing more than the ladder.

Now, will come the time where Robert Main blows a gigantic hole in all the “Chronic” theories. The only person who gives one damn ounce of credence to these beliefs is Page himself. He has proven he is a treacherous hard-nosed threatening bastard. WHEN HE RUNS IN A PACK! What mighty mouse has failed to realize is that he’s playing with fire. One can only play Russian roulette so long until they eat a hallow point to the dome. Point in case Savage, where Robert pealed Page’s toupee back with a steel chair shot heard around the world. CCP has overplayed his hand and now the dealer has 21. Robert has seen many different tales of smoke and mirrors in the past and scrapped his way through many distinguishable webs of lies. He's heard all the fables there is to tell. The “Chronic” Chris Page chapter of Robert’s reign as Champion is the same story told about of Icarus.

Robert laid on a sleeping bag underneath a sky of immaculate midnight velvet, under stars so superb they drew the eyes towards the heavens, the lyrics of “sky full of stars” played carelessly in Robert’s troubled mind. As the brilliance glimmered as the unheard music played on in his head. In every direction there is a star, at times Robert wanted to fly away out into the vast universe. He leisurely tilted his head, scanning upward, eyes as open as then they can be. The moon was now under siege by the billions of stars as the never-ending blackness depleted everything within reach. Except for the stars which stood out like pebbles in front of a storm. It seemed like guerrilla warfare to Robert as the murkiness controlled the sky, yet the stars influenced the glistening spots of where they originated. The war continued across the constellations

Robert knows that all the self-proclaimed achievements and bravado, Page pushes down everyone’s pie hole is a cover. Cloaking the truth now Robert will have to get his hands down in the muck and filth digging into the true grit of who Chris Page is. Stepping into a mind of psychopathy isn’t like a day at the park. But once one can get past the cruel hard-shelled mercilessness, you'll encounter gospel truth. Not a man of immense endowment, nor a man of unmanageable violence. Not even the ungovernable gladiator he illustrates. What you’ll discover is a disturbed, unsettled, frightened little boy, trying to nip at the big dog's heels. Hoping, praying to get just one meniscal scrap from the table he never controlled. Look at the list of longest-reigning champions you’ll not find CCP in any of the rankings. He knows his career is ticking away one second at a time. Intimidation usually takes some time. Enrooting fear also takes time. But Robert instilled all those feelings at Savage. Within a blink of an eye, Robert and the good guys changed the course of what was thought to be a sinking ship. Chris has been running his dick-suckers a mile a second like the scared neglected bitch he is. Page believes he has marked his territory by taking a massive shit on this company on. The only thing CCP has done is make himself look like a conceited, egoistical fool. Now Robert has no choice but to punish the man with the munchies.

Bob, were back. Got all the things for smores.

Robert sits up laughing for a moment at the sight before him. Drew and Ned on the back of Drew’s seeing-eye horse hands full of plastic bags.

Did you guys ride that thing down to the gas station?

Yes Bob. It’s environmentally friendly.

Robert rolls his eyes as Ned hops down holding his balls from riding bareback a good three miles there and back

Did you guys get everything?

We got gram crackers, honey, cinnamon sugar, and chocolate. Marshmallows, several flavors, Hershey bars and Reese’s as you requested.

Awesome, but why in the hell are there so many bags though? You’ve got what 20 bags of stuff?

Yeah about that. Drew insisted we get 20 boxes of gram crackers, 10 different bags of Marshmallows, varying in sizes, shapes, colors and flavors. And bought every Hershey bar and Reese’s in the entire building.

Ned I told you to keep my card away from him.

I did.

Oh..

Bobby… I paid for it all.

Bull shit! ]With what? You never have a dime to your name.

Drew throws his hands up sighing

With a credit card dummy. Duh!

You don’t even have credit. How the hell do you have a credit card?

Drew gets frustrated tossing his cowboy hat

Bob we went over this a few weeks ago. Don’t you remember? I’m the one with the bruises on my memory and concussion. Get it together Bob.

God damn it, Drew. You used one of those credit cards you filled out in my name Didn’t you? I thought I canceled all of them? I even cut them all up.

Bob canceling credit cards hurts your credit history. I always have a backup, and a back up to that backup.

So I bought all this shit?

I like to think we bought it.

How much?

500 dollars..

You guys spent 500 dollars at a gas station? How in the hell is that even possible? I’m going to get a lockbox at the post office so you can’t get into my mail anymore you dick head.

Bob let’s not be hasty. I’m like a bloodhound I’ll sniff those things out. I’ve got a bad Amazon Prime addiction that you’ve been supporting. I can’t go cold turkey.

You should have seen what he did to that horse.

What did he do?

Ned laughs out loud as Drew crosses his arms giving Ned the evil eye

Oh, man, it was priceless. He got off the horse pulled its tail up and stuck the gas nozzle up its ass.

Robert grins

Are you fucking serious. That’s hilarious.

Drew turns his back to Robert and Ned

I’m concussed guys. Simple mistake!

A fire snapped crackled and popped in the corner of their campsite, projecting shadows on the surrounding area. The light cast by the flames danced across the dark trunks of the trees, twisting and curling in obscure shapes and providing a small radius of light. The fire itself was pulsating, the glowing embers seemed to move in rhythm with the flames, matching every dip and sweep. It was hypnotizing to watch, colors of orange and red that gave way to yellow and white near the center, where the emanating heat was overbearing. Robert opened a mason jar taking a small sip.

White lightning Ned?

Ned hesitates for a second then shrugs

When in Rome.

Were not in Rome Neddy. I think you’ve had too many Reese’s smores. Bob, we should cut him off.

Robert and Ned both leer in Drew’s direction shaking their heads as Ned takes a sip handing the jar back to Robert.

Drew it’s an expression.

What?

What I just said.

What did you say?

When in Rome?

No Ned that’s a location.

The night brought such tranquility that the crackle of the campfire was all that could be heard, like a piece of crazy natural music. The flames that licked at the wood and the red sparks both danced in the cool breeze. River sat close on a mossy log, his face toasted warm and his back cold, mesmerized, relaxed. It was like the fire was charming his worries from them and sending them heaven-bound along with the dark smoke. Suddenly Drew interrupts.

Something just came to me. Sperm of the moment. You guy see O.J. Simpson on twitter?

Robert and Drew both shake their heads no.

Seeing him on twitter is like seeing a stripper at breakfast. You’ll never look at her the same way again. Speaking of strippers, in Chicago, it took less than a half a song for some big-boned honey on centerstage to suck the meat out of a slim Jim. Needless to say, my pork sword was at full attention.

…..

Anyway shouldn’t The Juice should be busy out there looking for the real killers? What the heck is he doing on twitter anyhow? Like Wesley Snipes said before he had some tax issues. “If the glove doesn’t fit you must acquit. Oh, speaking of strippers again Robert here’s a little free advice. Never trust a stripper with no hub caps on her ride but brags about a rim job. It ends horribly.

He does this a lot?

Daily.. And today is a light day kid. When he’s 100% watch out. It makes things fun.

Drew how do you know so much about strip clubs?

I'll answer that..

Bob, allow me. Ned when it comes to breast, boobs, boobies, tits, melons, bangers, bacon hangers, milk monsters, the twins, puppies, mosquito bites, slammers, fun bags, jugs, bazoombas, breasticles, bazookas, racks, hooters, honkers, nipple holsters or mud flaps.. I'm a connoisseur of sorts.

Right. He never gets laid.

Robert grins as Drew leaps to his feet sending gram crackers everywhere

I don't get laid huh? Just ask Kayla!

You son of a bitch!

Wait... Whose Kayla?

It's Robert's sister. I've been taking her to pound town.

Drew begins wildly thrusting in the air

That's it!

Robert starts to get up when Ned intervenes

Have you even responded to anything Page has said yet? Three promos now. He’s had a boatload to say. He uses his mouth like a manure spreader.

Robert shrugs

Na, I haven’t and I’m not going to again. Why? He’s all opinions, I’m all facts. Hell, I’ve hardly responded to anything that the man has said at Wargames. I’ve come out cold three times now. I don’t need his words to prove a point. He can cut a promo every single day for all I care. It’s always been quality over quantity. I’m surprised his ribs don’t hurt.

Why? All the talking?

No Kid.. Because they are stuck inside a fucking coward.

Page is an indigenous Dick head. He and his crew are more divided than oil and vinegar. All this noise. Sticks and stones will break our bones but words will never fuck us!

Each of them cracks as smile as Robert takes another sip of white lighting watching the fire dance.

Hey Robert.. I think Drew was just kidding.

Yeah.. I was only kidding

Drew makes one more thrusting motion as Robert shakes his head

Chris Page would have you hypothesize that he's had a grueling and bewildering life, more exasperating then those around him. CCP presumes no one can hit harder than him, but he's mistaken. Robert "The Omega" Main can and will. Perhaps CCP is just that blind, or maybe he is just simply that senseless. Page hasn't had this herculean rise from the gutter yet, at least from where Robert sits anyway. The gutter is right where a man like Chris Page belongs with the rest of the drug-addicted low life’s. Yet CCP whines. This relentless wrecking ball or a man went in Wargames ruthlessly promising to come out as the victor. As the match went on Chris Page did, in fact, became more cold-blooded and antagonistic as he tried to kill the XWF. Robert though then became problematic and unsympathetic. Refusing to give in.

Then the bell rang and every one of Chris Page’s guarantees all ceased to exist. He petered out, fading away into nothingness. Like smoke lifting away into the air. CCP wrote a check he simply could not cash at the APEX bank of America. He never took into consideration that Robert would have an unbreakable will. Then like the overgrown child that he is decided throwing a temper tantrum would get the job done. All Page has he shown is he was what Robert thought a failure. A snobby uptown coward. Attacking defenseless guys like Drew from behind in such a vile thing. Page showed the entire world just how deep the yellow runs down his spine after he crumpled to our heroes at Wargames.

Suddenly the toughest man on the planet seemed human. Robert knows one thing is certain after this DEATH match CCP will once again get bitten by the disappointment bug that seems to follow him so closely. He will know yet again what squashed feels like. He will know that he is not this overvalued, savvy wrestler he believes he is. He will learn his place in the pecking order and forever be known as the helpless loser, getting owned by his master “THE OMEGA”. CCP has always been nothing more than a non-performing underachiever. When faced with a real struggle in the ring. Real talent. Page folds like a bad hand in cards. Robert has dismantled Chris one at Wargames. When it's all on the line CCP comes up short every single time. This match against Robert is no different. Page may acknowledge he has faced the best wrestlers on Earth, but, he has not even scratched the surface.

Robert Main is as cut-throat as they come, a slayer among men. The Judge, Jury and Executioner. A hit-man who's fearlessly bold and brave to boot. After every word, the “stoned” one has said Robert remains un-frightened and valiant. Robert remains just as cheeky as he was before, his confidence rising by the second. The cockiness will continue to pour from his body. This will be the first time In Chris Page’s career that he has ever stepped foot inside the ring one on one with a man so courageous, having undaunted nerves of steel. No matter where this match takes these men, Robert will be the one who's more ballsy. Robert is the one with everything to lose after all.

Robert stands up taking the white lighting with him

Where you going, Bob? I bought some hot dogs. Ned and I are going to grill those son of a bitch’s up, here in a second.

Thought you were Mr. all-natural and shit. I’ll be right back. I’m going to go and do what I do best. Tear Chris Page down, again!

Their hot dogs Robert if you don’t eat them your un-American and un Christian.

Robert walked into the woods behind Ned and Drew sipping on his white lighting every so often. The woods were shadowy and foreboding, but there was quietness in its ambiance. Robert’s eyes flashed over the thick, dark trunks of the trees that rose persistently into the sky, each of their branches interlocking with their neighbors like dreadnoughts interconnected together protecting their home. The trees were compactedly crammed together, leaving just enough space to allow someone through. As Robert pressed his palm against the jagged bark he took a deep breath sucking in the scent of the musty woods.

Page you’re the type of man that needs drug out into the middle of the woods and disembowel with a wooden cooking spoon. Chris, you want to know the discrepancy between us? That was a big word let me ask you again. You’re most likely nose deep in crushed up Xanax. The difference. Maybe I should ease up a bit. I don’t want you going back to those old ways and commit suicide because you have no fame. Anyway, I stay hungry, match after match I remain unsatisfied. Thirsty for more, craving the next sorry son of a bitch, I breathe the air at the top, a spot you'll never reach because of barbarians like myself. One would assume after several months now as your current and reigning Champion, I would have gotten comfortable. Getting comfortable is for amateurs and flunkies, like yourself. Becoming self-opinionated, lax or self-satisfied will only ever lead to one thing Page. The very moment you become cushy in this business everything that you pursued, scrimmaged, scratched and strived for disappears right before your very eyes.

In one single second, one blink of an eye. Everything evaporates into thin air. As Champion, I must always keep my head on a swivel, knuckling down bracing myself for the next up and comer thinking they have a shot at my throne. But here we have you. The old dog. The very moment you wrestle ineffectively. Boom goes the dynamite. All the accomplishments and achievements are gone. All the hard work, merely a memory. To put it simply. You lose, it’s over. Back of the line pal. That is why I keep my self-starved Chris. I remain ravenous because one conquest is just never enough for a man like myself. One title defense, never enough to satisfy my deprivation, I always desire more. This Championship is only half of the equation, deep within the pit of my stomach, there is a yearning CCP. A hankering for something more than just this Championship I hold over my shoulder. My trophy is your head on a fucking platter. I am a bottomless pit when it comes to perfection. Each time I step foot inside of a ring anywhere on this planet I’m in pursuit of supremacy.

I’ve devoted myself to war man after man, exchanging blows for every legend that held this Championship before me. I battle to be what so few can be called around here. I want to be held in great regards. I want to be known as the man who bulldozed through each competitor I faced. I will knock off every man woman and child outshining and overcoming every single odd stacked against me. Why? Not because of this Championship. Not because I must. I do it because it who I am. The man known as Chris Page is just another stepping stone towards my ultimate goal. Of being the longest-reigning Universal Champion in XWF history. It repulses you doesn’t it Chris? I make you shudder in bed at night knowing I’m Champion. I Robert “THE OMEGA” Main along with my APEX brothers will change the face of the wrestling world once again. When we wipe your sorry asses off the face of this earth once and for all. Now before you run your dick-suckers again telling me it cannot be done.

Robert pauses taking a long drink of white lighting

Just remember one thing we were told the same damn thing at Wargames. We walked into a hornet’s nest, and sure we got stung a few times. But when the shit storm passes it was US who walked out the victors, Leap Of Faith will be no different. As Drew and Raven defend our Tag Team Championships. Page you my friend are in for the thrashing of a lifetime. I'm going to take every collective moment from built up over the past few weeks, from the egotistical power trips to the temper tantrums after losing. The broken promises and all the lies, and once again make you eat crow. Nothing sets a man straight and arrow like a big gigantic piping hot crow sandwich. And I'll make sure you devour every single bite. Chris the fact of the matter is you are not as well versed as me in the ring. You might believe you are this high-quality wrestler with amazing weed-smoking skills. But I have an NCAA championship hanging on the wall in my office saying I can put you on your ass any second, I want. Your merely satisfactory, where I am exceptional at everything I do. You will never even come close to beating me.

Picture your life after this match as it all comes crashing down around you. Hey Page, go get a burger and fries. I'll take you and your bitch Tristin by the ear and then smash you two butt buddies together like a frosty beer. I want you to know something about me when I make a promise or guarantee I follow through. Unlike a man of your stature, you've promised the world time and time again and, in the end, you always fall short. Now I am about to make a guarantee to you right here right now. In the middle of this woods, and God as my witnesses, I swear, win lose or draw you'll be sorry you ever decided to sign on that dotted line. You should have stayed in your lane like a nice old man at the retirement home. You made the mistake of shooting your mouth off and placing my name in your mouth. You’ve attacked my friends, my family. A sin you'll pay dearly for. You speak ill of me, I make you pay a high price, a payment your career can’t afford. Once all the smoke settles and those tears in your eyes dry up you have learned the lesson so many others had learned the hard way before you.

You should have steered clear and taken your half pack of Rolaids you call a dick someplace else. Being a fucking loser's in your DNA. The chromosomes from your ma and pop, create

and they name them Chris. I have millions of fans all over the planet, I'm living your dream, you’re a glorified wrestler that goes to stupid extremes. I got a question, why do you got to pretend to be something you’re not? Your biggest mistake was crossing me. And for a guy whose career doesn't even exist. Chris, It's the peak of the mountain for you, this is it. I just hope this CAPITAL L fits in that back pocket. This is a waring Chris, I’ve been telling you to cut your losses, yet you act like you are not afraid. Because of you, I’ve been coming from a much darker place, I’m more dangerous than ever before. I keep drinking and honestly, I’ve never felt better. I swear to God I’m going to burn this bridge you built and piss on the fucking flames. I don’t plan to slow down or give any of this one freaking second to breathe. What I am going to do is push the pedal all the way down to the floor.

Robert finishes the white lightning smashing the mason jar up against a tree

This whole thing between you and I will not end until one of us are gone. Leap of Faith this paper champion dick is going to take years off what’s left of your abysmal career. I'm on the edge and I'm looking for any reason to jump. You are the one taking me lightly, I'm excited about this match after all the punches thrown. I got a list of different strategies to bury bums like you, and very rarely do I carry all the weight of a grudge. But this… This right here is different. Page you lack the passion and reckless nature of truthful expression. You’re not made of what I'm made from. Look at the past few weeks I’ve been bruised and dented. Yet here I stand before you with a ruthless obsession. I don’t fear you, I’ve got a closet full of skeletons so heavy you could not move them with a forklift. Everything I ever did was always done with open throttles. It's been a week since I've felt like me. I'm exhausted but I can't find sleep, it's been harder than it's ever been. Why? Page it’s you. I cannot rest until your dead. My demons always seem to knock the hardest when I finally slam the door in their face. Leap Of Faith that door closes. SEE YOU SOON!

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode A ruffled mind makes a restless pillow.
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