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JimCaedus · (06-29-2021)

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"Then and Now p.3"

CAEDUS TIMELINE REWIND: In early September 2019, Jim Caedus had been released from a psychiatric hospital to which he'd been remanded, and transported back home to Long Beach, CA. For the first time in decades he found himself truly alone, drowning in said solitude. It took less than twenty minutes for Jim's thoughts to become swamped in regret, his betrayals flashing before his eyes. As hard as he tried, APEX could not be forgotten... Until an unexpected visitor came calling. Holly, Jim's ex, erased from ongoing coverage in XWF storyline, had returned and sucked her way back into his life and it looks as if Jim might settle......

Continued directly from "Then & Now p.2" in "'Cana Clit Clipper"
http://xwf99.com/showthread.php?tid=41141

---SEPTEMBER 2019---
Naples Island, Long Beach, CA

Jim stirs from his sleep, removing the single sheet from his nude form-

-to find an arm draped across his chest.

Holly lies naked beside him, sound asleep. At once appearing about to cry out in anger and remove her arm...Jim instead slowly settles back down onto his pillow, staring up at the ceiling in thought...

---Two Weeks Later, Late September 2019---

The sounds of heavy breathing, the sporadic single syllable exclamations of pleasure, the rhythmic smack of skin on skin.

Jim's assigned Home Drone (we like to call him Cammy) whurrrrrrs down the staircase from the second floor and takes a lazy turn into the hall, revealing more of Jim's memorabilia displayed on the walls including...

The Dark Warrior Micheal Graves in-ring attire worn during the Caedus/Graves Big Ben Brawl and removed by the paramedics following Jim's saving him from drowning in the Thames.

The cranial "halo" Jim was forced to wear temporarily (previously unseen on XWF programming) following taking a stiff version of Engy's finisher in their very first encounter.

Numerous action figures in mint condition boxes including XWF ultra rares Calypso!, Chris Chaos/Jenny Myst with anatomically correct female/cliteromegaly genitalia and a Contact Us card displaying a single phone number, the Robbie Bourbon Bourbon Man Dojo playset with Diamondback and all, as well as secret rare Blue and the XWF Limited Edition numbered 002 of 100 Deluxe Loverboy Boss Lane including RC segway.

A picture of Jim posing with 40 Squirrels throwing up 40 middle fingers and it is UH. DORE. UH. BULL.

There's actually a whole bunch more (like a trio set of blank canvas artist's renditions of Trax's Whereabouts, Scully's Brain and Gilly's Shame) but let's not overkill, we gotta get goin' here...

The soundtrack of ecstasy continues (well, it was going on the whole time) while Cammy whurrrrrrrs through the remainder of the hallway as an explosive tandem climax sounds.

Our POV enters the living room...

A naked Jim stands and heads for the kitchen, running water over his face as Holly, also naked, lies on the living room floor catching her breath. Raising slightly to peer at a cigar box atop the coffee table, she flips the lid open, scans the contents of an ounce of weed in a bag labeled Skywalker OG and a row of packed blunts. She snatches a blunt, lighting it with the Bic alongside the box and closing it.

Inhaling, Holly lies back down and looks to the collectibles and XWF memorabilia on the walls. Exhaling, her eyes roll at the sight of it all...then narrow as she spies several shots of Jim with his XWF Bombshell ex Tala and her sister Jaslene. She ashes directly onto the carpet.

Bitchy. Why aren't there any pics of us?

The sound of the fridge door closing. Jim walks out of the kitchen twisting the cap off a bottle of Bear Republic Apex IPA and snaps the cap between thumb and middle finger into the trash can.

Taking a swig as he walks into the living room, standing to cast his own gaze upon the wall. We never took any pictures together Holly, remember? You were too fuckin' busy takin' Tinder selfies.

Taking a fat, greedy ass rip off the blunt, speaking while holding her hit. Shut the fuck up with that shit already, all you do is bring up the past.

The past is all there is between us. I don't know what the fuck this is...but we ain't together again. Speakin' 'a which, when you leavin'? It's been like two weeks.

Two weeks fucking and living together. That doesn't mean anything to you??

Yeah, it means we've been fuckin' and we cohabitate. That's about it.

Exhales, coughs. You're such a fucking dick dude.

You're a disloyal nymphomaniac fuckin' whore. And the whore is leavin' when? I know it's hard to tear yourself away from a free ride. Grabs his cock for emphasis.

Sitting up to pin him with an angry glare. You think I need you OR that dick?? I can get any dick I want, Jimmy! I can get any MAN I want! Fuck this house!

Volume rising slightly with each word. Then why are you here??

Holly hops up, drops the lit blunt purposely onto the carpet and storms out of the living room muttering. Fucking loser...

Growl. Godfuckingdammit! Dashes to pluck up the blunt, a burnt spot evident where it'd been lying.

She turns down the hallway as Jim watches her go, raising the bottle to his lips, turning it up and downing the contents inside. He burps and takes the blunt to the head, spending a good few minutes awaiting Holly's return before he makes his way after her, dropping the empty into the trash.

We follow as Jim ascends the stairs. I hope you're gettin' all your shit together. Oh right, you have nothin' but the same pair 'a clothes you were wearin' when you got here. No answer as he reaches the second floor. Hello?

Silence. He peeks into a guest room with an ajar door. Where the hell are you?

From further away. I'm in the bathroom, is that ok??

Jim exhales and makes his way down to the master bedroom. Stepping inside, he sees the bathroom door closed. I'm sorry for what I said. But you hafta understand, what you did...I ain't ever gettin' over that. I have no feelings for you anymore Holly. And with what you did...you never had any for me either. No answer. Irritation washes over his expression. Hello?

Babe... This time Jim is the one refusing to answer. Babe. He raises his eyebrows and shrugs at the closed door. Jimmy??

What?

The door opens, Holly steps out clutching some small white device.

Beaming. ........I'm pregnant!

To be continued

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[Image: xcSwxS1.jpg]

Thrax...Demos, Charlie Nickels, Charlie Dimes...

Why you still here?

Explain to me- to us ALL -exactly HOW and WHY it is you're still here in the XWF.

You built up your "who am I?" Where's Waldo weak masturbatory twattage prior to Leap of Faith, you unmasked as Charlie Nickels (a surprise worth no ~~less~~ more than a hi-five and about $150 I'd wager) and Charlie Nickels- which means Charlie Dimes and Demos as well -died during the match itself. Incinerated as it were, which seems to be a trend 'round here these days.

Few deaths are more "sweet jizzin' jesus!!" than a ~~man~~ bitch burned alive and I gotta tell ya douchebag, there wasn't a dry eye in the house in the wake 'a your agonized demise. I mean, ongoin' intense laughter leads to tears but still.

Now look at you...you're legit ruinin' a far better finale to the neverending nosedive your career had become by stickin' around and one has to wonder if you're less some flash in the pan pissant who can't see past 'is own unjustifiably present ego to make the right choice for positive change or, simply put, you're more so flat-out fuckin'

, insane even, actually believin' doin' the same shit you always do (that being, SURPRIIIISE) will yield a result other than the usual: failure.

Except this time...

Demos and ~~Chuck~~ Chump Change 1 and 2 are literally dead.

Thrax itself was nothin' more than a veil from start to cumshot.

A costume.

A disguise.

A tool.

Thrax was a means to a Charlie Nickels reveal that only went over as well as it did, quite frankly, because few if any gave a shit enough about another demonic heel gimmick, self-fluffin' over a secret, to pay much more than a TikTok video's length worth of attention to it.

Was that a justified reaction?

You bet your lard ass it was.

Fuck did it do for you? You not only lost anyway, you died dummy.

Which reminds me...

Despite the reveal (which should logically completely invalidate the existence of Thrax), for some mindblowingly inexplicable reason there was a "Thrax" thottin' around durin' the match as WELL as Charlie Nickels...so I don't discount the possibility of the "genuine" article trippin' out from behind the curtain in this. I mean, it'd be an asshat's ~~action~~ hacktion to do so, makin' a debut as the "for really reals this time" Thrax who's theoretical existence would now define a prideless punchline prostitutin' It's own likeness for some fat virgin jag-off who's game with the ladies rivals only that of Tommy Wish and 'is pedal to the metal push from peeper to rapist.

I honestly don't believe- with the type 'a creature Thrax would HAVE to be to even CONSIDER being taken seriously in the XWF -that Thrax wouldn't at least possess the intelligence to recognize the preemptive sinking of It's credibility by Charlie Nickels has effectively killed It's career before it even started and an attempt to appear now would be seen as yet another abortion in a long line 'a said, very similar to the way DemNickDimes can't compete on any level other than as the "OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK!!" frantic costume changin', ~~straight up stolen gimmicks~~ multiple "personality" ploppin', elementary bait and switchin' ONE. HUNDRED. PERCENT. BITCH. campin' ass UNGOD 'a Cowardly Competition.

In other words, someone who will NEVER...

EVER

be seen as anything other than a waste 'a time and energy. Someone who'll never be respected. Never be liked much less appreciated.

Someone like Demos. Or Charlie Nickels. Charlie Dimes. Charlie Fuckin' Change-for-a-Five. Charlie whateverthefuck Chuck 'cause some doughy dork dipshit can't brainstorm beyond Charlie yet still thinks he's gonna get over by "getting over" on anyone- ANYONE at ALL... And now, potentially, Thrax.

This ultimately all comes down to one of three outcomes:

1.The aforementioned

2. You're deluded enough to think you can pull off some horseshit revival as Demos, Dimes and/or Nickels and are in the process tragically blind to the fact we all prefer you (all) dead (and this ain't a we're all laughin' with you scenario, bro, it's a hyperbolic in unison kill yourself much like with Chris Chaos)

OR...

3. Thrax has become the new "face" 'a the XWF Mystery Opponent.

In any case...

my opponent is a pussy.

DemDimeNicks?

The hype cycle routine 'a deadlinin' and switchin' personalities.

Pussy.

Legit jobbin' left and right regardless of personality levied, dumpin' a match to Rel (was it worth it you dickless lame, 'cause r-n it looks like she played you the fuck out. TROLOLOLOLOL).

Pussy.

The precedent you can't handle shit without a desperation maneuver and man the fuck up to the point I wouldn't put it past you to invent a fourth personality reveal, ironically missin' the part that it's still all you and you. Are. A. Loser.

Period.

PUSSY.

Thrax.

A joke if he is, a joke if he ain't. Definitely nutless and playin' it wait. Just like the name dropped Terrible Trio, go figure.

PUSSY.

Or...if it's none 'a the above and it's you-

-YOU-

-you watchin' this right now, you spineless sack 'a shit...if it's you, you're either some new booty misguided gimp lookin' for quick cred or a butthurt wuss lookin' for retribution, in which case I'd spread bets across an associate of Continuum, a ~~BoB~~bie and Corporate Chaos. Although, it really don't matter WHO you are, guy Or girl, you're unequivocally a

P
U
S
S
Y

for choosin' this route and all your "BOO!" will amount to is a reflex Ash ~~Ketchum~~ Smashem "Gotta Fuck Em All" assault that'll leave you, you got it, gaped, with your pokeballs or masterboobs danglin' from my belt.

It's a catch-22; you hold the potential for surprise but you ain't escapin' the fact it's as gutless a play as it gets. Not to mention...

I'm Jim. Fuckin'. Caedus.

...Without question a threat to every name on the roster on any given night and anyone who doubts it, shut your "ballsy" inner monologue the fuck up and feel free to drop a challenge. I came back to a whole lotta hype slammin' my ass with an unfair truckload 'a pressure and I failed to deliver victory in the Leap of Faith.

Did it discourage me?

Nah, that shit pissed me the fuck off.

I'll be the first to admit two years in absence has shown a noticeable blemish on my "legendary" abilities as they were...but I damn sure didn't lose my last match and you better believe I'm ridin' this momentum to maximum effect.

I'm more than determined to restore my name to the marquee 'a

Fear This Motherfucker

and I ain't gonna stop.

Period.

Fuck "until I've succeeded". Fuck "or die trying".

I.

Aint.

Gonna.

Stop.

You get to be the first body bodied in singles comp with Caedus. Congratulations shithead.

This really what you wanted? Got an ace up your sleeve and a rabbit up your ass? Bring your dumbfuck amateur reveals and sling your sacless strategies ~~Criss~~ Piss Angel, it ain't gonna do you no good. I ain't lettin' you yank the momentum out from under me.

Caedus gonna kill you.

This time around, do the roster a solid and stay dead.

XXXUXXXAXIXNXTXXXSXHXIXTXXXPXUXSXSXYXXX

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