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JimCaedus · (11-28-2021)

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CAEDUS REWIND: Last time on "The Fuck's This Dipshit Doin'?"... For the second time in his life, Jim has died. And not just died, he was killed by a bear. And not just any bear, the same inexplicably hibernation ignoring ursa that attacked both Jim and the father of Robert Main nearly four years ago in late December of 2017. Unfortunately without the benefit of his super-strength endowing golden nugget this time around, Jim found the bear to be more than he could handle and fell in battle...

CONTINUED FROM "REGRETS P.2"
http://xwf99.com/showthread.php?tid=42283

"Regrets P.3"

Hours have passed since Jim's death and if there was ever any doubt to the legitimacy of his passing, the unnaturally inanimate qualities displayed with this rigor stiffened corpse before our eyes definitively define the change from Jim Caedus, person, to lifeless object now currently collecting a crowd of insects looking for their midnight meal.

Yeah, this motherfucker dead.

SO of course, impossibly, he coughs, spits up blood and starts to breath again as if returning to his own carcass following some epic afterlife adventure spanning spiritual years in the course of several earth hours.

He attempts to move his right arm and emits the best groan of pain he can muster under the circumstances in reaction to the limb snapped backward at the elbow, his shoulder more than likely also having been popped out of socket.

Jim struggles for agonizing minutes to pull his unbroken left arm out from under his crumpled form and when finally successful slowly crosses his left arm over his torso to poke wavering fingertips into his right hand pants pocket searching for... something; a bitch of a "simple" task to perform even in perfect health. He does his best to "lift" and bend his right leg to speed up the process.

Having to stop and rest several times over the course of the next several minutes, he eventually, thankfully, manages to pinch the sought item between his index and middle fingertips and ever so slowly, carefully, draws his arm back...

...to pull a small tin of mints free. He exhales in pained relief before placing the tin on his chest and opening it. Two small folded pieces of paper rest within. He pulls one out and flips it open:

Your emergency mints as requested hun. Be careful out there and have a Happy Thanksgiving with Drew & the Mains. ❤️ Kaiya

Jim smiles faintly. Arcana... she's a lifesaver. She's always there when he needs her. Even a thousand miles away.

Jim takes a moment to ponder if he's been as reliable and "there" for Arcana as she has been for him for months now... He decides this ain't the best time for such deep thoughts, bookmarks it and returns his attention to the tin.

He plucks the second note free and opens this one as well:

These emergency mints sucked Jim. They neither freshened my breath nor made me any less hungry.

❤️ Drew

Jim's eyes slowly widen in panic.

Resurrection unintentionally thwarted by a pickpocket Apex brother. He wonders if Drew will ever understand exactly what it is he's done with an otherwise innocent and endearing act (I mean if you know Drew, he has a heart of fucking gold, believe me)."

But then...

...Jim spies a single, solitary remaining mint in the tin.

His fingertips pluck the small, ovoid mint free and deliver it to his open mouth. In mere moments, Jim's skin begins to glow, a golden hue that gains in intensity with every passing second, illuminating the night and surrounding forest.

Bruised flesh begins reverting to unmolested healthy tanned white.

Flayed skin begins to "zip up".

Broken bones begin to mend.

The process is excruciating...but Jimmy Caedus is becoming whole once more before our very eyes.

Then finally...the glowing fades, absorbing into his chest. Like the Undertaker, Jim slowly sits up until fully erect, his face close in to the recording XWF drone's lens.

Smiling eyes. If you're shocked...shame on you.

Jim rises to his feet, brushing his still torn and bloodied clothing free as best he can of the dirt and dead leaves then begins walking his way back from which he'd originally trekked, back towards the Main homestead a good mile away.

==================================

"Miller Time"

"What.

The.

Fuck.

"Miller Time"?

Fuckin' "Miller Time"?

Dude.

What's wrong with you? This ain't a joke, I'm askin' sincerely...what the hell's wrong with you?

I called you out on usin' the exact same title, "Miller Time", every time on every promo you've ever released...so your first inclination was to title your very next promo, your one and only hype cycle shot against me, "Miller Time"?

🤣

I called you out on your promo content itself and how all you do is ramble while drinkin' beer, smokin' cigarettes and blowin' smoke rings. You rambled. Y'drank. Y'smoked. You even blew smoke rings. Y'did ALL 'a that for the whole five minutes of WASTED airtime as if I wrote the script for you ahead 'a time.

You complete fucking idiot.

Kill yourself.

Why are you here?

HOW are you here?

You are officially the WORST hype cycle competitor I've ever come across in my 25 years in this business. And I mean, it's not even close and I'm countin' the no-shows. I'd be willin' to bet you're the worst ANYONE has ever seen in fact. You're legit the only person I know of who's so seemingly and mind blowingly incapable of creativity at the most RUDIMENTARY 'a levels that you fail to use words other than Miller and Time as title material every fuckin' time. Like you think what happens in one promotion is invisible to the rest 'a the wrestlin' world and we won't notice. Like you think outright stealing the slogan of a well-known dumbass beer company is such a powerful gimmick it deserves anything more than a SINGLE tongue-in-cheek sell. Like you think maybe this, the tenth time, it'll go over, which, I gotta say is...just...insane. What else would ya call it?

You're outta your mind, Ma'am. And not the dangerous, intimidating and marketable type 'a crazy, mind you, the shit yourself and fingerpaint with scat type 'a crazy.

Remedial. Gump.

HOW is that level 'a stupidity even possible with a person who isn't currently under the care 'a the state gettin' fed, bathed and her ass wiped by hospital staff?

HOW is this talentless twat even on the fuckin' roster of the XWF, we got PLENTY of enhancement talent signed up; someone thought THIS hack (never before has that adjective been SO aptly placed) was worth another couple thousand a month?

Don't get excited anyone, anyone at all, Ma'am ain't bein' ironic here for a laugh. Ma'am Miller is simply. THIS. BAD.

Bitch can't even fake it til she makes it.

This hooker lied about her past in the Indy circuit, there's simply no way she graduated, and instead did more or less- who wanna bet -exactly as I described... she simply decided one day she wanted to be a professional wrestler, slapped on the Top Guy Slayer moniker as if it would magically lead to unjustified title shots- and it HAS for fucksake, what in God's name is goin' on? -studied some other shit spackled asshole for the most cliché of character garnish- yet inexplicably MISSED all the ~~finer~~ most GENERAL of points to competing in and hyping a match in professional wrestling (how is THAT possible??), somehow convinced THREE promotions to hire her (I'm callin' cock suckin') then proceeded to do absolutely nothin' expected of talent beyond showin' up...and even THAT apparently was a chore this time around.

D'you realize just how disrespectful you've been thus far to the business I love? All the effort and work we all put into our careers...here comes Ma'am who couldn't care less how she or her opponent looks, can't be bothered to give a TITLE MATCH ON A PPV the hype it deserves and is such a literal vacuum 'a creativity it's been noticeably suckin' my balls dry of ideas.

Ma'am Miller is representative of everything NOT to do in this business if the words "success", "accolades" and "legacy" are among your goals. This asshat-

Doesn't try.

Doesn't improve.

Doesn't learn.

Doesn't listen.

Doesn't know.

Doesn't UNDERSTAND...a GODdamn thing.

Ma'am Miller is Chris Chaos without even a FRACTION 'a the FRACTION 'a talent Chris Chaos has...which in context sounds suspiciously complimentary of ol' Corporate Clitoromegaly and that pisses me off. You made me compliment Chaos, cunt, now I'ma hafta hurt you in the match far beyond what I'd previously intended. 🤔 I think under the circumstances, robbin' you 'a the ability to use your mouth is more than appropriate. After all, without it ya won't be able to drink, smoke (much less blow smoke rings you wicked awesome fake tough fuckstick) ramble or fellate your way into another federation. Therefore, I'ma Point Blank headbutt your lower jaw off the hinges then uppercut you so stiffly it legit staples your bottom row of teeth to the roof 'a your mouth.

Lol. Sweet.

Unfortunately, at that moment you'll become too hideous to live and I'll be compelled to boot that balloon head clean offa your neck and up into the rafters where XWF crew are waiting to incorrectly attach wires to it and watch it drop. And when your head does in fact drop I'll catch it, jam my hand in the neck hole, sock puppet your mouth while mimicking your voice and show you how to do a proper promo, pussy. Then I'ma confiscate said head and play a spirited round 'a hungry hungry hippos with Doc and Unknown Soldier's skull.

Oh, c'mon ya mongoloid, calm down...no worries k, I ain't gonna actually kill you. I may be a dickhead but I ain't a murderer, Ma'am, so I'm just gonna break your back at the waist, land ya in a wheelchair then place you at the top of a staircase and forget to set the brakes before I walk away.

At that point I'll leave the question of whether to smoke a cig or drink a beer in response up to you.

I'm banking on miller time."

==================================

JIM!!

Robert Main, clutching his smartphone with flashlight beaming brightly, steps out of the brush to Jim's right. Jim grins and pulls Bob-O into an embrace. Fuck...you're a sight for sore eyes bro.

When they part. GUYS, HE'S OVER HERE!!!

What the hell are you talking about? What the hell were you doing out here for hours on end!? Me, Ollie and Drew have been looking all over, you scared the shit out of us man! My mom is at her wit's end worried about you! Suddenly noticing and taking stock of Jim's shredded, bloodied clothing. Aw geez, who'd you kill, hoss?

Matter of fact. God.

What? Eyeing Jim with worry. You ok?

Never better, Bob-O, never better...

...If you say so. Come on, we have that appointment with the doctor tomorrow. We all need to catch a little shut eye.

Jim almost argues he's been asleep for years but instead remains silent as the two friends and tag teammates make their way back home.

Unseen by either but definitely on camera, a large figure looks on from behind a massive tree...

TO BE CONTINUED...

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