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ElijahMartin · (01-20-2022)

So there I am, sitting at Gate C11 in Portland International Airport… a decent size bandage on my forehead, sporting a really faded grey tshirt I used to sell at merch tables on the Indies five years ago, a beaten pair of black sweatpants and black insulated Crocs with no socks on my feet. The only bag I’ve got with me for this flight home is a big enough, plain old navy blue gym bag with three days of dirty laundry and sweaty, bloody wrestling gear inside of it. Oh, and I’m just laying back in my seat an hour before boarding my Alaska Airlines flight to L-A, looking like I have no idea who I am or where I’m going… but I do have this beautifully decorated leather belt called the XWF Anarchy Championship laying on my lap, with both hands on top of it.

I still don’t understand how I managed to have a super hot former model fall in love for this very average looking mensch, and I’m even more confused after she saw me battered, bloody and exhausted when Anarchy went off the air. I spent an entire life fending for myself, constantly being reminded through trials and tribulations that the only person you can trust in life with complete certainty is yourself. It’s a motto that carried over into the wrestling business, where the phrase goes you can either make friends or make money. I have always chose the latter, pursuing the championship belts and the bright lights of the big city marquees and the big figure ticket gates.

But now I’ve got Lexi clamoring for advice and lessons about the business, as she continues to try and build up her own career. I’ve made everything crystal clear from the beginning - I don’t NEED her at ringside, I can handle my own business against the men and women of the XWF. But if she wants a closer view of how I go about my business while putting on mat classics every time that bell rings… I’m not going to stop her from standing in my corner.

A sudden burst of energy comes over me, as I straighten up in my seat and look directly at you.

On the first Thursday Night Anarchy of 2022, you all witnessed the culmination of an arduous three-month journey for championship gold. I wrestled in matches with all kinds of wacky stipulations, including blindfolded referees, racing down a haunted castle and trying to escape a cage filled with annoying ankle-biting dogs. I entertained the masses on THREE DIFFERENT CONTINENTS and traveled THOUSANDS OF MILES to face some of the absolute BEST that the company had to offer me, and in the end… it was the opponent I held the most venom towards that I finally broke through against to claim the first championship of my XWF career!

Don’t get me wrong, Centurion has a place among the stars in the history of this company… he has amassed a career resume that would make ANY man with half a brain blush, he has challenged AND beaten some of the greatest of the greats in his career. However, between the ass kicking he narrowly escaped from victoriously at Bad Medicine, and now beating him so bad that he passed out from the pain I caused… I live rent free inside Andy’s head FOREVER!! And if he even so much as hears my name going forward, the only thing he will be able to do is have recurring flashbacks from two of the absolute worst beatings of his entire career… and I LOVE IT!!

Almost as if on cue, my cell phone is ringing, so I grab it from my pocket and answer.

Yes boss… mmhmm… of course, Lawrence is a killer college town! …. Okay, sounds like a plan, catch ya later.

I hang up the phone with a huge grin on my face and place it back in my pocket.

Wow… as if things couldn’t get any better, I get to begin my leadership as the main attraction of XWF Anarchy on the 20th in a damn good partying college town Lawrence, Kansas. On top of that, I’m going from a submission match where I THOROUGHLY defeated Centurion… to a non-title match against Lord Raab in a version of the I Quit Match where each of us will have someone in our respective corners holding a towel. No matter how you spin it or what kind of angle you approach it from, I’m basically competing in the same kind of match I had to win this pretty baby sitting on my lap, just with the wrinkle of SOMEONE ELSE needing to do the quitting for YOU!

Let’s get the painfully obvious out of the way: anyone in this company who thinks they can EVER make me give up or quit or tap out has lost their fucking mind. And if you think for one second I’m gonna allow Lexi Gold to stand in MY corner, holding MY Anarchy Championship Belt, and throw in MY towel… then you need to seek professional help because you out your mind! That night, the instructions for Lexi will be painfully simple for even you social media keyboard warriors to understand: no matter what the circumstances, no matter how bad the situation may look… that towel should NEVER leave her hand!

As for my opponent “Lord” Raab… well Markus is just a slightly taller and fatter version of me, so I’m not impressed whatsoever. His anger is beatable, his mat technique is inferior, his mental acumen is below that which is required to be a successful champion in the XWF and any man that requires hiding their face under a mask to present themselves to the public either has something to hide or is just flat out pathetic. In the end, Markus will fall in line just like Andy, just like Tara Fenix and Bama T and blah blah blah… you get the point, so go the fuck away so I can get back to my nap.

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