"We lie best when we lie to ourselves."

Stephen King (It)

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Hello, my friends! Your favorite, friendly neighborhood Doc here! My, oh my! What an INSANE trip it’s been, am I right? First thing is first, I MUST give thanks and the proper props to my old friend Jacob for coming out on Sunday. It was everything I could have ever hoped for! Two long-time foes, two warriors, Goliath versus Goliath! Two of the toughest and greatest to EVER spill blood on that canvas went above and beyond in attempts to destroy the other! Two titans that, every time they've met, blew the walls and roof completely off the place. Two XWF Legends that could have easily filled an audience and left no seat unassigned yet unoccupied! It was a dream come true for this “devilish old scrote”, indeed.

With that said, I went into Relentless on its third glorious day and to say I walked out again, well, would be a lie; we will get to that in a moment. I did, however, accomplish everything I said I would. These new line of patients as well as new XWF Universe witnessed the delivery of exactly what the good doctor ordered. Win or lose, Jacob went into this fight knowing that it wasn't going to end well. Even I knew this. It goes with the territory. I knew I would leave with a couple of stitches. It wasn't until what came afterward that left the scars.

They're something though, you know? Scars. Every one of them tells a story. It may be a good story, or a bad story. Traumatizing or comical. Long story... short story. This scar here though, as quick as you all seen it happen... this scar actually tells a long story....

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part two

Spoiled Spoils of War

mishaps, misfits, and mistakes

You gotta be outta your God damn mind, Frow-dow! There ain't no way that Sherri Moon Zombie is sexier than Elvira, man! You gotta be high as a fuckin' kite to believe that shit!

The old pick-up truck coasts down the road as the two brothers bicker with one another. Tommy sits in the driver's seat with one hand on the wheel, the other hand in his mouth picking whatever out of one of his back teeth. Jarvis sits next to him on the bench seat, slowly turning to glare at him with his left googly-eye.

For the last time, dickhead, Frodo's a hobbit! I'm a damn dwarf! How many times do I have to tell you!

I dunno man... Potato, poe-taw-toe, right?



Tommy has about fifteen years on his younger, much smaller brother, Jarvis. While Tommy is no "James Dean", Jarvis just didn't come out right when he was brought into this cruel world.

Yeah, you assholes are all the same to us, too. I swear, ever since you watched that stupid movie.....

Jarvis stirs around in his seat while his brother Tommy laughs awkwardly with half his hand in his mouth. On the ground he stands only about three and a half feet up, so his feet don't even come close to touching the floor in this big ol' truck. Obviously, the little guy has no vision over the dashboard, either.

And Sherri Moon is waaay hotter, man. It's not just the tits and the make-up... It's the whole vibe she gives off, ya know? The laugh.

The laugh?! Man, you ARE fucking high.



Tommy pulls down the visor from above and a couple of loose cigarettes fall onto his lap and onto the floor by his feet.

Fuck! Damn it all!

Tommy disappears from behind the wheel and dips down to collect them all. Jarvis jumps to his feet on the seat and grabs the wheel turning the truck around a sharp turn! The truck squeals and takes a slight tilt throwing him against the passenger door and to the floor!

Pay attention, dip shit!

Tommy laughs hysterically at his brother's mishap while lighting up a smoke. Jarvis climbs back up on the seat just in time to see a wrecked car half-off the road just ahead of them.

Would you relax? I know these roads like the back of my hand!

Look out!

Tommy looks back to the road and is forced to slam on the brakes as they're about to crash into the wreckage! The force sends Jarvis back onto the floor after he bounces off the dashboard. It apparently lost its humor from the first incident as Tommy's eyes stay front.

.... The fuck happened here?

I dunno.. Jarvis looks back to his big brother with a stern look then climbs back up onto the seat. We should see if they need help!

Jarvis wastes no time and climbs out of the truck to investigate. He waddles over to the car and peeps into the driver's side window.

It's a girl! Airbags went off!

Is she conscious?

Jarvis shakes his head in discouragement.

Sleepin'

Or dead.

Don't say that.... Jarvis pounds on the window with his fist. Hey lady!

BOOM!! BOOM!! BOOM!!

LA-DY! WAKE UP!

BOOM!! BOOM!! BOOM!!

From inside the vehicle Nancy begins coming to. She lifts her head up from the airbag that blew in her face and probably the reason of her being knocked out cold. Everything in the car including her, the dashboard and windshield, and all of her bags were covered in the dust that exploded along with them. Not to mention the contents of those bags like the newspaper articles, photographs, a camera, a handgun. She begins gathering it all up mindlessly when she hears a couple loud thuds from on top of the car. She stops and listens closely. Grabbing one of her shirts from the floor she wipes the debris from the windshield to reveal a round face looking back at her! Nancy lets out a frightened scream before jumping enough that she nearly went through the roof of the little car.

She's awake!

Thank the Lord! Tommy praises sarcastically leaning against the hood of his truck. You sure you didn't scare her to death, you little gremlin?

No, she's cool. And fuck you! It looks like there's an old man sitting in the back, too! He looks okay... He's just looking at me..... Hey! She's looking for somethi--- Oh, shit she has a gun.

Jarvis does a somersault down across the hood of the car and lands flat on the ground. He scurries back to he truck where Tommy remains standing calmly against his truck. Nancy climbs out of the vehicle, concealing the weapon behind her while peering over the driver's side door.

Despite their smiles, the two men didn't share a warm, welcoming vibe. While looking like they haven't showered for days, it meant nothing. A hard days work would do the same thing. However, the rotting teeth, matted hair, and other grotesque features is what gave them that backwoodsy incest murderer look. Jarvis, with his little legs and little arms, wore a pair of overwalls with one strap completely missing. No shirt and it's your guess from there on. Tommy had a pair of jeans that were held up with a pair of red suspenders over what used to be a white t-shirt with an old, tattered leather jacket worn open over his scrawny upper-body. Nancy glanced back into her car for a quick cellphone search, but didn't see it and took her attention back to the two strangers.

I think I'm.... Nancy holds the side of her head as it pulses out a couple of stabbing knives. I think I'm lost.

Tommy chuckles to himself.

I think you're fucked, is more like it.



Nancy clutches her weapon even tighter and takes a half step back.

Excuse me?

He said it looks more like you're fucked, lady. You hurt?

Nancy's vision blurs and she stumbles into the door. She grabs ahold to keep herself up and stay balanced.

I.... I think I'm okay. Just a little beat up.

She takes another look inside the car for the phone then back to the strangers who stand awkwardly still in front of her car.

What about your friend? Tommy points to the car.

What friend?

That old man in your backseat.

Nancy peers back quickly into the car. Nothing. She scans again quickly for her cellphone.

I'm traveling alone. There's no one else here.

Jarvis looks confused back to his brother and back to Nancy.

You seeing things or what? Tommy reaaches over and smacks the back of his brother's head. Nancy watches the two bicker for a moment before speaking out to them again.

Can... Can you help me?

I swear, I saw---

Well, missy, this little twat in shiny armor sensed a damsel on the side of the road and decided to stop for the rescue. Only problem is, the bitch is packin'.

Nancy pulls the gun around from behind her back and tucks it into her pants.

Sorry. Um... Protocol, you know?

Tommy just keeps smiling and stays where he is. Jarvis, on the other hand, steps forward towards her.

Sorry if I scared you. Climbing on your car and stuff.

It's alright... Nancy continues to keep her guard up as the wooziness continues to affect her balance.

You should sit down, relax. Gather your marbles some.

Good idea... Nancy's head feels like it weighs two hundred pounds and takes her straight to the ground just after everything goes black.

The two brothers stand over the girl who is sprawled out on the ground beside her car. Tommy nudges her in the shoulder with his boot and takes a quick jab from Jarvis.

Don't kick her! Fuck man, she's hurt.

Why don't you give her a smooch then Prince Charming? We don't got time for this.

Jarvis takes a knee and looks down at her. He sees a dark storm cloud hovering overhead and warning them it's planning on ripping loose any second. He looks back to his brother who's still standing, now snuffing out the cigarette on his pant leg before tossing it away.

Help me get her into the truck.

Like hell, little man. This ain't no ambulance and I ain't no fuckin' EMT.

We can't just leave her here!

The fuck not? We found her here. We can leave her here just as easy.

It's not the right thing to do, brother. What if "they" come?

They ain't.

But how do you know?

Tommy looks down the distant road and up at the storm cloud looming ahead. He lets out a long sigh as he looks down to the girl passed out on the ground and his brother looking back like a very determined Ewok...

God fucking dammit. He mumbles as he grabs her underarms. Grab her fuckin' feet... And pull that gun out of her ass. We don't need it going off and pluggin' one of us.

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Yikes! It looks like Nancy's little back road mishap lead to meeting a couple back road misfits! The two brothers give off some mixed signals if you ask me... But I guess I'm just forced to have my guard up as of late. You just can't trust anyone these days, am I right?

Painting a target on someone's back is easy. You don't even have to use real paint. Just hide in the shadows for a bit and plot out a good plan. When your target is at their most vulnerable position.... ATTTTAAAAAAACK!!!!

Right?

Am I right?

Coming out the victor after an absolute war. A war that lasted for years. A war that with every ounce of flesh and blood left on each battlefield that we faced-off on, all came down to that very night. Relentlesssssssssss...........

Did I get to enjoy those spoils of war?

Psh.

Not for a second. Don't get me wrong, it's nothing I'm not used to and, honestly, the blood all tastes the same. When I won the King of the XWF Tournament, before I was even crowned I was attacked from behind from none other than the BEAST INCARNATE, Brock Lesnar. As easy as it was to approach his newly crowned KING at a later time, Mister Lesnar decided to take matters into his own hands and SPOIL my spoils. While I make it public knowledge and shout at the top of the very mountain I sit that the doctors doors are always open..... these fools still insist on using a window.

Sure, you catch me off guard and get a few good ones in there. Considering what happens after all of that does it really matter though?

Was there fulfillment in being a sneaky little rat, stealing a bit of cheesy glory, only to be stomped to death by my boot a short time later?

I'm curious because I've never been on the side of the rat. Since the very beginning MY "challenges" have been either slammed down my throat or pulled out of my back. Each one I turned the blade and CUT back what was taken from me and left not just a pile of shame but a shell of whatever it was that woke up that day and decided to make that DIRE mistake. So, who? WHO? WHO? WHO?!!

What a surprise.

From misfit, himself, to Mastermind of Misfits....

You seem different, sir. If I'm not mistaken, it appears that fire that I was trying to light within you all of those years ago finally got a spark. Too little, too late, I suppose, but regardless, good for you. I hope its driven you to new heights and... no. No... It hasn't. Hmm. Well, surely with that new band of misfits you..... Nope. Nothing. Don't tell me you're just another Chris Chaos that JUST relies on showing up inconveniently to spear me backstage into a caterer's table and call it "spreading chaos" rather than facing your fears head on? It's annoying, Mister M, don't do that. Don't get me wrong, what you did is just as unhealthy, but hopefully we get to Warfare and we learn our lesson once more.

This isn't even the saddest part about this whole thing. Know what is? It's not the first time, nor the second time, is it? Should I feel a bit ashamed of myself that my treatments don't do the trick the first session? Naah.... I think some of you silly fools just like coming to see me........

I am, however, curious as to what was going through the mind of the Master of Minds when he decided to sick all of his puppies on me. What's the motive? What's the goal?! In our battles I've defeated you for the Xtreme Championship and I later successfully defended my UNIVERSAL Championship. "My style was impetuous and my defense was impregnable. I was ferocious and I took your heart." I took your heart and I squashed it right in front of your eyes. But you come back for more.

In the midst of my title runs and your silly, worthless attempts... In the midst of it all, there was a time where you and I built a bond though, didn't we, old friend? There was a time where the good doctor reached out to the Master of Minds, himself, for a helping hand. My own misfits at the time just weren't enough with the Helicopters of Mastermind, Cars of Mastermind, Money of Mastermind... And let's not forget your glorious thinking chair and... that mirror of yours.... My Asylum just didn't have the resources that you had and, oh my, were you the generous one.







How is tasty little Maria, by the way? Is she well?





You know, looking around now I guess I can see why that new fire in you and your new found followers would make you believe you actually stand a shot here. A little shot at redemption or a dash of self-fulfillment. The confidence I seen at Relentless won't be enough to climb this mountain, Mastermind, and you know this. It's just going to lead to more disappointment and another blemish in this picture perfect career of yours. And that shmeckle of hope that you squeeze all day and tuck away under the bed sheets at night... Blow it a kiss before you turn in yourself... It's gonna make you look and feel just as foolish when this is all said and done. It's going to make you look stupid. And it's going to seriously hurt all of those around you. Do you like having a party of idiots parade around with you doing your dirty work? I'd suggest save them for your actual dirty work next time then, if there is one.... When you're at the heel of my boot scraping and pulling for that hope that you've cuddled up with day in day out for two weeks, they best stand down. If they have any ability to think for themselves, Mastermind, they'll let their "leader" get what's coming to him and stay away from the massacre. If they don't have the ability, hopefully their animal instincts save them. Because you sure aren't going to.


**Quote - "My style is impetuous and my defense is impregnable. I am ferocious. I want your heart...." - Mike Tyson.