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Chris Page · (04-02-2021)

It is never easy when you are the best of the best, the cream of the crop, the bees-nees of a wrestling organization that is thriving in the way the XWF is thriving today. At any point there are roughly ten people that could occupy the top spot… but none of them are Chris Page. When you are the Universal Champion all the eyes are locked on you at every moment, people anxiously waiting for you to fuck up so that they may pounce or come out of the woodwork at the most opportunistic time, I should know after all; I am a master of manipulation, right Robert? Our scene opens as are in the back of a limo where Chris Page is shown sitting next to Miss Fury with his right arm around her shoulders, holding her while Andre Dixon sits across from them minding his own business as Chris states.

” Hard to believe that all of this is finally coming together.”

Chris turns his head to the right where he kisses Miss Fury on her forehead before turning his attention towards Andre as he continues.

” Ten years man! Ten years since we have ridden these roads together, and now the band is starting to get back together.”

Andre Dixon: When you made the call, I had to answer. Nobody took as good of care of me in this business as you did, so when you told me you were going to wreck some shit how could I turn that down?”

” Good point.”

Andre smirks at Chris as he then asks.

Andre Dixon: How long has this been brewing?

” We been plotting this for how long, babe?”

Miss Fury: If I had to venture a guess, I would say that this has been ongoing since mid to late 2019 is when our paths first crossed.

Andre Dixon: It is just now coming full circle?

” Brother you know better than anyone else how I will sit back and bide my time. When I was ushered back into the XWF I made a point to tell myself and the world that I was going to rock this place to its core. Everyone thought I was playing, they thought that I was blowing smoke up everyone’s ass when this entire time has been nothing but a game.”

Chris shifts his attention out of the tinted window at the scenery that blows past as they travel towards the private airfield in Las Vegas that houses Chris’s private jet.

” Where people tend to do a lot of fucking up is worrying too much about the short game while completely taking their eyes off the bigger picture. That is exactly what happened here; while I was busy exploiting Robert Main my girl here was working the back angle of putting a crew together to wreck shit.”

Miss Fury: The reality is this, there is a deeper origin to this story between Chris, myself, and why BoB was created. We have played everyone for a damn joke, and have enjoyed it every step of the way.

Andre Dixon: It certainly sounds like it.

Chris chimes back in.

” We are not even close to being done. This has been playing itself out and now with the time is just right it is time to squeeze the life that is left out of this company while cementing a gigantic fuck you to it in the process. The XWF has always and will always be a political organization filled with crying babies that wet their diapers the moment something does not go their way. This is legit the only federation in the world in which logic has never reigned supreme and the inmates run the asylum. There is not a single person, faction, or group that holds a candle to what we got; and that is a shoot.”

There is a pause from Chris as he takes a minute to gather his thoughts before continuing as Dre listens intently.

” This is well thought out and our endgame will make the Avengers franchise look weak as fuck by the time all the bells and whistles sound off. You play just as integral part of this as Thunder Knuckles and Bobby Bourbon; where we have a leg up on everyone else as far as you are concerned revolves around how everyone in the XWF has no clue what you are capable of whereas I know just how dangerous you can be if you put your mind to it. You are in a very good position because while I was playing Robert like a fiddle Miss Fury was making BoB serious threats before I stepped foot into the equation.”

Andre Dixon: If I know anything about you, Chris, it is you do not roll into anything without a methodically placed course of attack. I jumped all over this when you called and would do it all over again. The traps are set and the blood of the retched will be shed.

Miss Fury: I like him.

Chris removes his arm from around Miss Fury’s shoulders as she slides over a few inches giving him a little space before resting his left hand on Chris’s right thigh.

” What is not to like? He is a big, intelligent badass that will rearrange your goddamn face at a moment's notice.”

Andre Dixon: Good point.

There is a pause from Andre before he shifts the conversation.

Andre Dixon: What are we going to do with this Mickey douche bag?

A sly smile graces Chris’s face as he turns his attention towards Andre.

” Not a whole lot I can do but show up in Los Angeles and fuck his world up. The kid is a fucking tool that has zero concepts of what is going on around him. It is pretty funny to sit back and watch as he tries so hard to be taken seriously only to see him constantly falling flat on his goddamn face. This is not anything to me other than a mere formality in my eyes.”

Miss Fury: I know this, that mother fucker better keep BoB’s name out of his mouth if he knows what is good for his lame ass.

” Calm down sunshine, do not give him that satisfaction. Ignorance is not bliss in his case; he is already trying to lay some sort of foundation for the loss that is about to be served upon a silver platter. He is reaching, it is his job to try and cast some sort of doubt regardless of how

his logic behind it is. If I got bent out of shape every time told me I am too old, if they told me I am past my prime or cannot do shit on my own I simply smile and prove them wrong. It is kind of my thing.”

Miss Fury: Well, when you put it that context.

” None of us have anything to worry about when it comes to this daddies boy. He shall be smacked down without breaking a sweat and we will move on to bigger and better things. As I said… this is nothing more than a formality.”

… to be continued.

WORDS FROM THE STONED ONE

Here we go again…. Mickey, Mickey, Mickey. Jesus kid, I do not know where to begin with the sheer stupidity that surrounds you, brother. The sheer notion that you mean anything other than an easy win for someone of my stature will never cease to amaze me. The first thing I feel the need to do is to go ahead and issue a retraction- originally, I did state that you did not even bother to show up for a promo at March Madness; but you did, you did the BARE MINIMUM that was so forgettable it slipped my mind. I cannot help that you are so low of the totem pole of relevancy based on putting in minimal efforts while expecting phenomenal results. Take our first week for example, not only did I come off March Madness with another successful title defense I turned around within twenty-four hours to give you just a sliver of my attention while you are too busy ALLOWING Dean Rose to steal your thunder. I mean, it is cute. Do not get me wrong to see you throwing a temper tantrum like an infant who just had the teat taken out of his mouth. The notion that you are defeating me on Warfare is even funnier when I sit back and think about it for no other reason than because since you have shown up all you have done is run that cock sucker of yours and lose. Kinda what you are doing right now when looking across at me. Guys like you talk a big game but rarely do you deliver while guys like me talk the talk and walk the walk on a nightly fucking basis.

Not only did you not bother to speak after being given a week to do so, but the first thing you do is also drop something on the XWF site with a graphic of me TEN YEARS AGO!

Are you take far past the times that your graphics department cannot locate a picture of my fat ass in its current form? I mean that seemed to be your single biggest jab revolving around how I might not be as fit as I once was. Fuck guys, he got me with that one! It would mean something if I have not commented on my rocking dad bod how many times over the last two years? This is painfully

to even have to discuss when you sit back and think about it because I am only fifty years old and performing at a high level than anyone else on this inflated roster as we fucking speak. Not too shabby if I do say so myself; but hey man, reach for whatever you feel like you need to reach for because at the end of the day the story of your opportunity to show up and prove yourself has already fallen by the wayside for no other reason than your sheer laziness to do you job correctly the first time. This is my entire problem when it comes to dealing with the new talents constantly revolves around how they bite off way more than they can chew; kind of like you have done yourself. You will build yourself up everywhere BUT in the ring where it fucking matters as you are already well aware but that I will make it even more profound by disposing of you with sheer ease and precision to the degree that you will not have anywhere else to go but right back out the revolving door that you have decided to walk into at the wrong time with the wrong person.

I can at least give you a little credit for even giving me one effort from you.

… until I watched it and was left shaking my head at just how far off base and out of touch you are.

It was enough to put you on the level of a Dark Shadow or a Peter Gilmour for fucks sake. So let us now take a few moments and take a deeper dive into your words that you elected to speak in my direction with such conviction that you are deluded enough to think they cut to a core when in actuality you have done nothing that fifty people before you tried and failed with; talk about lack of homework. How clever you are sir to take a shot at my age when I am wearing the Universal Championship while outperforming a roster that is half my age at best? I will wait. I could understand if I came out a night in and night out, losing every important match that I am attached to like Demos or not having a win under my belt at all like you, young sir. The entire notion that I am too old or washed up sinks faster than a boat with goddamn holes in it, and it makes you look like a goddamn fool for not being clever or witty enough to sling some dirt that many others have tried and failed with more times than I care to fucking count. You might want to concern yourself with showing up on time than if I am one step closer to Alzheimer’s or retirement, might increase your chances of success but then again what do I know about success right? I have only been the World Champion in every federation I gave given my time to while you are still dumb enough to think running around telling dick and fart jokes constitutes as groundbreaking or cutting edge. When guys like you make these stupid mistakes dealing with guys like me it brings a huge smile to my face knowing that you are already a beaten man with nothing more to say than recycled shit from last year or the year before.

Speaking of recycled shit, my weight?

Really?

Are you that goddamn thoughtless to think that insult or the fact that you felt the need to hammer my physical attributes is groundbreaking is sad enough as it is? I’d rather have a bitching dad bob than look like I belong on a street corner of the Vegas Strip looking for my next fix. I am almost scared to touch you with the risks of STDs that may be coursing through your body let alone looking like a troll that should be living under a bridge down by the river! The soon you realize that you are outmatched and outgunned the better you are going to be. The second-grade insults and lack of originality are enough to put the final nails in your coffin with every word that you speak. Face it, kid, you as unprepared for this as Drew Archyle was unprepared at March Madness like Thaddeus was at Snow Job and like Demos shall be on Savage. This delusion that you are some marquee player is almost as funny as Peter Gilmour being crowned Universal Champion; I say almost because, unlike your claims, that shit happened. Rumor has it that it was the worst thirty days in the companies history. In your mind, you are the be-all-end-all, unfortunately for you here in the real world, ya know, where everyone else lives you cannot be that top attraction when you are getting tossed over the top rope in the opening match of a Pay-Per-View you ignorant twat.

You are exuding overconfidence and it is enough to bring a smile to my face.

The idea that you defeating me is a forgone conclusion in your eyes is about a rookie as a rookie can get.

But I get it to a degree, with you being a glorified Internet Title act you have to go out on the furthest limb possible when you look across the ring at me. I am the guy that over the last year in this federation has had gold around his waist for ten of the twelve months, and you seriously think I am going to let some lame version of Val Venus step in and knock me off my throne? Okay. Sure.

The goddamn federation did not even spell your name correctly!

That is how much faith they have that you mean anything more than side act versus being a major player that you think you are!

Jesus Christ this is like taking candy from an ignorant baby.

I love the idea that you want to put your dick on the belt design, even though no one will still see it. What is up with trying to parade around talking about your cock? Like you do know that this is not the nineties anymore, right? You understand that every time you shift back in that direction what you are telling us is you have nothing tangible to say so I am going to kill some time by talking about my millimeter peter since you cannot get yourself over. Goddamn, it does suck to be you to have to reduce yourself to that kind of level but yet continue to think we are all mocking you? Bro, you talk so much shit that you cannot and will not be able to back up that you make it that easy for everyone else to drag you through the fucking mud with ease. You do that every time you bother to open your fucking mouth and insert your foot. It makes no sense to pretend to be this major player when you have not to show anyone a goddamn thing other than flapping that cock sucker of yours while someone like me on the other hand has Main Evented every Pay-Per-View for the last seven fucking months. Do yourself a favor and go bury your head in the fucking sand and start begging for water.

Unlike you, I do not need pep talks from my friends or family.

Unlike you when I talk the talk I walk that walk.

Unlike you, I do not have to placate to sophomoric humor or sell myself to be something I am not, and in your case, it is being labeled as a goddamn professional wrestler. The sooner you wise the fuck up and realize that you MIGHT make a name for yourself other than being a glorified punching bag, conveniently is where you find yourself here and now. I wish I could say I gave a flying fuck about the sheer notion that in your eyes I am a terrible champion, but I do not. That is yet another typical response better suited for the Ash Quinn’s of the federation that I would expect to lob such horrible rhetoric in my general direction but then.

I got your voicemail- and you are completely wrong on so many levels. I honestly do not care about what you say about me because literally, it is the same shit that gets spit on a daily and has become so easy to discredit and defend that it is pretty boring if I am being honest. I understand that you desperately want to be noticed and that you crave to be in the spotlight so much that you are willing to, and I mean this in the nicest possible way, poke the bear… which might work if you had anything of substance to say that does not revolve around your cock. Guys like you are a dime a dozen in this business and while you very well may EVENTUALLY catch on you are struggling while I have maintained a foothold on this business for over thirty years; to continue being on top, to continue having a line a mile long of guys waiting to try their hand is POLAR OPPOSITE of what you claim I am. Do you not see how fucking stupid it sounds to tell me I suck but to know that if I look at my calendar it is filled up through the end of the year… and that is with or without a damn strap of gold around my waist; but hey, you keep telling yourself whatever you need to to make yourself feel better for being a bottom feeder, I will not stop you from making my job that much easier.

Speaking of making a job easier.

Did you think that your flawed attempt at garnering a title shot is going to work? I put my strap on the line against WORTHY opponents- unfortunately, you do not qualify for that AS BAD as you think you do. More importantly, since your phone call came I don’t know, a week after I dropped a promo stating that I will consider this an Eliminator Style contest. Since you are about a dumb as a brick I will go ahead and help you out by explaining exactly what the fuck that means. IF hell freezes over and YOU find a way to beat me you shall get the wish you are asking for; however, if you think I am going to hand you a shot at the top prize in this federation based on your one appearance being a loss you are only establishing that in your eyes you do not feel as if you need to earn a goddamn thing. Put in a little work for fucks sake, do not miss deadlines for promotional packages, and for fucks sake stop being a lazy, complacent sack of monkey crap and maybe we can talk.

At first, I was actually going to give you your request, but then again beating you and retaining over you is like smacking around Big D.

If you are half as good as you think you are put in the work and prove you belong. It is fucking simple. Speaking of simple- I appreciate how you think that BoB is needed to toss your back out on your ass with the ease that I am going to do it with. Let me go ahead and ease your mind since you think I need my brothers to put you down. Bob is not going to be around, my bodyguard will. Maybe I can introduce you to Andre after I fuck your world up and I will leave enough on the bone for him to pick the pieces. Stop making your excuses now for the thrashing that is about to fall upon you because it is nothing more than sad and quite frankly pretty pathetic. The Kink as you like to put it is a dead issue to me because, in all honesty, you are not anything more than a second-rate Dick Powers; at least Dick Powers is funny and remotely talented while you sir, you are a waste of roster space and a piss poor knock off at best. What you should learn from this is how to A) cut a promo that makes sense as opposed to grasping at straws, B) come to the firm realization that YOU are the only person that thinks YOU are remotely relevant, C) the only person getting the shit kick out of them will be you. If you think you are the future then that future for this profession is weak as fuck. This is what happens to punks that write checks your ass is not capable of cashing. You are certainly one of the most idiotic guys I have seen in this business, and I have seen a plethora but you take the goddamn cake buttercup. Don’t you worry though, do not fret because I will be there Wednesday Night to cram my boot so far up your ass you’ll think Dean Rose is still plowing you from behind. Good luck, you need it.

You are fucked.

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