Hey everyone! Steve Sayors here with a live EXCLUSIVE interview with Corey Smith, the young man some say is a top contender for the Universal Championsip at High Stakes.

The shot pans back. Steve is standing next to Corey’s tent.

He has also apparently been sleeping in a tent. Steve turns to the tent and calls out, Is it ok if I come in?

Yeah, come on in.

Steve crouches low, awkwardly trying to not sully his slacks. As he clambers into the tent he wishes he had picked more sensible shoes for this affair. Finally, with a profusion of grunts and sighs, Steve gets in the tent. He flops down onto his rear as we have a moment to take in the interior of the tent. It’s mostly unchanged from when we last saw it, except now there is a mountain of Red Bull cans in one corner. In fact, Corey is just now popping the tab on another one.

Oh, and Corey himself? To borrow Thad Duke’s parlance he looks like a shit that got run over by the shit truck. And then run over again. His features were even more pallid, his curls greasy and unkempt. And most striking of all, his eyes are shadowy pools set deep against purple circles in the sagging skin below them.

Once settled, or as settled as he can be, Steve speaks. So Corey, interesting uh...set up you got here.

Yeah. It works.

May I ask why you’re not staying in the immense mansion just outside?

It’s complicated.

Uh….huh. Steve pinches his lips together as Corey continues to give him nothing. Well, I guess we’ll just get down to business.

Yeah. Corey drains the Red Bull at an inhuman clip and tosses the can onto the pile.

So Corey, a lot of the story of this big Battle Royale seems to boil down to your relationship with Thaddeus Duke…..

Corey closes his eyes and shivers. Steve stops mid sentence.

Are you alright?

Corey smiles. I’m fantastic. Just got my fourth wind off that last Red Bull.

I don’t think it’s healthy to drink so many of those….

Probably not. But I got to stay awake just in case the cosmic horrors from that mansion somehow manage to creep out as far as this tent and devour my psyche in my sleep.

...right.

Corey points at Steve and nods sagely. Let’s talk about Champ Sportsman.

Steve puts his game face back on. Okay! Interesting place to start, but go ahead.

Corey starts swaying to the beat of a song in his head before bringing it to bear. Say my name, say my name...if no one is around you, say baby I love you….say my name, say my name. Corey thankfully draws his butchery of the Destiny’s Child classic to a close. Champ Sportsman, I’m officially saying your name. You know, you probably take it as a form of disrespect that I haven’t had much to say about you, but in fact it’s just the opposite. I haven’t spoken much about you because you didn’t deserve the vitriol. Hell, I wouldn’t mind you being Universal Champion. I mean, it’s kind of a long shot….but I could think of much, much worse people holding the strap.

One thing I do have to clarify though, for your sake really, is this notion you have that I stayed away because I was afraid of Sarah Lacklan. Corey huffs out a sigh. Kind of embarrassing. For you, I mean. Look Champ, it is WELL documented that I was recovering from a stroke. But even then, if you were to peruse some of the well publisized chats I had with my friend Thad, you would have seen that my plan to return was already in the works BEFORE Sarah was unceremoniously fired.

But, you strike me as the kind of “salt of the Earth” type who won’t just take a man’s say-so. So, to that end, I have mailed you the proof that I was in the hospital all this time. Yup! I sent you every bit of hospital documentation I could find. From nurses logs, to endless insurance communiques. I even included the 47 page record of my bowel movements. They have to keep track of that you know! Corey looks at the camera as if to say “who’d a thunk it”. So if you have a particular desire to see if I had runny stools, or three days of medication induced constipation (a little of both columns, incidentally), it’s all there for you in black and white.

Now can we please, PLEASE, dispense with the “Corey’s afraid of Sarah Lacklan” spiel? Corey starts. Oh! And a bit of a heads up, the package is coming postage due. He grits his teeth together anxiously. And it’s kind of a big ‘un.

Well, I’m sure that’ll put all of Champ Sportsman’s accusations to rest. Now, I’d like to switch gears here a bit. As I’m sure you know Doc D’Ville was just revealed as Thad’s tag partner for High Stakes. Plus, the good doctor had quite a bit to say about you in his….

Pass.

...huh?

Corey rolls his eyes. What, you want me to get all hot and bothered about the man outing himself as being EXACTLY what I said he was? That his follow up to my accusations that he’d be another horror show like The Engineer was “The Engineer was a saint compared to me, hold my Cosmo, I’m GOIN’ IN!”. Like that’s going to make me anything but MORE determined to hog tie his cloven hooves behind his back and stomp a hole in that geriatric facade of his? Man, fuck that guy, I don’t wanna talk about that guy….

Corey’s demeanor changes abruptly. He sucks his teeth and looks away. Steve picks up on it immediately.

So, you have nothing to say about him teaming with your friend Thad?

Corey looks back at him. Oh, I got a lot to say about that eventually, but I think right now it would just come out as anguished, confused screaming while I punch myself in the face repeatedly. Do you want that, Steve?

No, of course not!

Cool, then let’s rain on Chris Page’s parade instead. Corey shoots the camera a sardonic smile and tilts his head. Homeboy here wants to spout off about people needing alliances to succeed. Sounds like Chronic Chris Page is doing some Chronic Chris Projection. .

This coming from the guy who uses the word “twatwaffle” unironically and cuts his promos like he’s competing with himself to see just how many tired cliches he can jam in one Ambien...I mean, outing!

Fuck all that shit about you beating Thad, because he’s not the one you have to worry about in this thing. I am! And I got you, already. I got you! And do you know why? Because out of all the douchebags I’ve called out, you are by far the weakest.

Yes….the weakest. You’re the slow deer while the wolves are on the hunt, you’re the parasitic twin that didn’t make it, you’re the pathetic motherfucker who is STILL...STILL going on about loses you “didn’t deserve”! And that last part is clutch, that last part is KEY. Because strong men OWN their mistakes. They OWN what makes them weak. They put that shit front and center because it’s just as much a part of them as the stuff that makes them great.

But you’re not capable of it, Chris. You’re not. Because deep, deep down inside, deep down in your nuts you KNOW you can’t admit that shit because you KNOW you already look weak. You know there is nothing about you that stands out or excels. Not in that ring. Not in those promos. Not even in the douchebag things that you do because you’re so...SO uninventive you have to even recycle your own “dastardly” ideas. Like, remember when you stole a title belt, and then did it again mere months later like we forgot you did it the first time? Heel of the year my white ass, I bet even Michael Graves didn’t have to play the same act twice.

You’re tired, Chris. You’re tired, and you’re dull, and a Chris Page Universal Championship run, and we’re talking hypotheticals here because you KNOW that ain’t happenin’ in the real, would be about as fun as pissing up an electric fence. Like, can you just IMAGINE? Chris Page rollin’ out here with his “RAH, I bet you’ve never seen somebody with a SCARY SPLIT PERSONALITY BEFORE!!” shtick. You and your Diet Coke Jeckyl and Hyde self. And the promos...UGGHHHHH GOD THE PROMOS! Let’s take a look at some choice cuts from the Chris Page School of Promotional Innovation.

Quote: Opportunities don’t knock every day, and when they knock your answer.

Bleeding. Edge.

Quote: Continue sucking on the tip of Corey’s cock because we all see that alliance brewing

Oooooh….HOMOPHOBIA! And acting like he’s pointing out some big secret that….I….have….blatantly….verbalized? He screws his face up in confusion.

Quote:]Amateur hour is over brah and it’s time that you realize your fate.

Once again, Bleeding. Edge. Corey snorts. “Brah!”

Quote:Finally, the last thing I want to tell you is this… watching paint dry is more entertaining than anything you’ve put forward. Fuck you.

Oooof, tell me about it!

He claps his hands together and lets out a final laugh. I mean, those gems were scooped together out of just five minutes of his promo time. Can you imagine having to listen to that for, well…..actually, it probably wouldn’t be a very long Universal Title reign. But one episode of Warfare, at least. And one Warfare’s worth of Chris Page champion promos is just one too many.

I am forevermore ripping the lid off of Chris Page. Guy, you’re just not that good. People do not tune into the XWF to see you. You are NO ONE’S dream match. You’re a living, breathing piss break of a man and whoever gifted you those awards at the end of 2019 was pulling the equivalent of telling a dwarf he’s gonna be the next Lebron. Because you just know when those 2020 End of the Year awards roll around, Chris Page isn’t gonna be on anyone’s lips because we’ve had one whole year of people being better, smarter, more charismatic, and more talented than him. And he knows that. He knows it. It’s why he subscribes to the Jenny Myst/Chris Chaos school of thought of “well maybe if I just plaster my face all over every show stem to stern, maybe then I’ll finally be over.”

But I’ve got a cliche of my own to share. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." Maybe you should try that one after High Stakes. Now touch my boo Thad again and I will make you eat your own heart.

Corey hisses out those final words with an anger hitherto unseen. He also seems to have developed a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead. He coughs and thumps his fist against his chest a few times. I think my heart just skipped a beat.

The Red Bull! Steve says emphatically, before noting with a more concerned tone, You ready to keep going or…..?

Corey rolls his shoulders. Oh yeah! Let’s do this! I am 5000% ready to tee off on the remainder of my FIVE BIGGEST DOUCHEBAGS list! Let’s pop that graphic.

THE TOP 5 REASONS COREY SMITH IS A HYPOCRITE!

Alright Culty, I’m comin’ in with another verbal…. Corey’s eyes flick upward, where he appears to notice the graphic hanging above his head. He blinks a few times in confusion and then frowns. That’s not funny.

What’s not funny?

Corey points upward. The graphic. It says “Top 5 Reasons Corey Smith is a hypocrite.”

Steve looks taken aback. Huh? Are you….are you talking about the graphics we add in post production?

The young man suddenly looks uncertain. Yeah….I, I guess.

Because there’s nothing there right….

You know what, forget it! Let’s just keep….

THE TOP 5 REASONS COREY SMITH IS THE BIGGEST DOUCHEBAG OF ALL!

Corey scowls fiercely. Enough! He shouts to no one in particular. Steve shoots an awkward, confused look at the camera.

THE TOP 5 TERRIBLE SECRETS COREY IS HIDING!

Corey seethes at the message hanging above him like a Sword of Damecles. I said ENOUGH!

THE TOP 5 REASONS COREY IS PROBABLY STILL THE ENGINEER!

SHUT UP! SHUT THE HELL UP!

But the messages just keep coming faster and faster.

THE TOP 5 REASONS COREY WILL NEVER BE AS GREAT AS LUX!

THE TOP 5 REASONS COREY IS WEAK!

THE TOP 5 CRIMES COREY COMMITTED AND GOT AWAY WITH!

FUCK YOU! Corey screams at the image. He unsteadily gets to his feet, traipsing past Steve and out of the tent, making a beeline for the house. Steve looks at the camera uncertainly, but decides to follow.

Tossing open the French patio doors, Corey steps into the kitchen area. He throws his arms out at his sides. YOU WANT ME?! HERE I AM!

Steve tip toes in behind Corey. Look man, if this is a bad time….

Wheeling around on Steve with an expression that suggests he forgot he existed, Corey points back out the door. It’s too dangerous for you here!

Dude, I work for the XWF. He says simply, giving a little shrug.

They stand in silence for a bit. Steve then looks over at the kitchen island, which is full of empty paint cans. His attention is then drawn upwards, to an area of kitchen wall and cabinetry that has been painted and repainted hastily in numerous colors. A DIY project?

Fine. Fine, you wanna know whats up? Don’t say I didn’t warn you. He points at the garish paint covered wall. That wall bleeds like 24/7. No matter how many times I paint it it comes back.

Well, I don’t see any….

Corey cuts him off by gesturing for him to follow. They pass a small door just past the kitchen. Corey gestures at it, but then abruptly shouts, DON’T OPEN IT! Steve instinctively backs away. That’s the pantry. It’s got, like, all sorts of impossible geometric angles that make it a doorway to some H.P. Lovecraft bullshit or whatever.

Steve starts to chuckle. But Corey’s face is deadpan. I’m not joking. Steve erases his smile and continues to follow Corey through the living room. The television has an axe buried deep in the screen.

What happened there?

Oh that? Madison kept appearing on the screen and screaming. Just screaming. Not even saying anything. So I did that. He wipes an abundance of sweat from his brow.

Oh….

Corey starts walking again, heading for the stairs. Careful going up the stairs, sometimes the steps turn into the spinal ridges of a great black dragon with my face. He starts walking, but then, as an afterthought, It might be symbolic, I dunno.

Steve follows Corey up the steps, on one hand trying to remain skeptical but still shooting compulsive looks down at his feet. Corey reaches the second floor and gestures down the hall. Sometimes this hallway goes on forever and I hear all these ghostly whispers coming from the end of it. Just to the left there is the bathroom where Madison’s ghost tried to drown me and The Engineer put his symbol all over the mirror. Over in that spare bedroom there….

Steve holds his hands out. Corey….Corey, just stop a minute, okay?

Corey stops, giving Steve his full attention.

Are you on the drugs?

Corey looks aghast. What?! NO!

Ok. Steve rubs his hands together nervously, searching for the words. You know all this sounds crazy, right?

Wellllll, YEAH! But I got it narrowed down to two things. Either Madison is trying to scare me out of this house, or The Engineer is still in my head and trying to break me down.

Is it possible that you….just need…..to go see a doctor? Steve draws the words out painfully, hesitant to even make the suggestion. Corey just stares at him for an agonizing series of moments, ramping up the tension.

And then he blinks.

And then he smiles.

Of course…..he whispers, looking off to the side. Why didn’t I see it before?

See what before?

Corey leans in towards Steve, which causes him to jerk away in alarm. Undaunted, Corey enshrouds him in a big sweaty hug. You’re right! I need to see the doctor. Corey lets him go. Thank you. Now, you DEFINITELY need to leave.

Taking the hint, Steve retreats back down the stairs. Waiting until his gone, Corey sets his features into a grim countenance. Curling his fist up, he wraps his knuckles against the wall three times in a precise succession.

He turns to look behind him, and the door that was there now looks markedly different from the rest of the doors in the house. Face tweaking with rage, Corey goes to the strange door without hesitation, throwing it open.

GO FUCK YOURSELF! He announces into the impossible room that shouldn’t be there. Containing the impossible office of an impossible man that most definitely shouldn’t be there either.



Doctor Louis D’Ville stands up from behind his desk, a wry smile on his face.

Why, hello there Corey.





To be continued….