December 17th, 2021, lost in Vancouver…

The day had been another strangely warm one for the middle of December. The night had cooled considerably but for the time of year it was still unseasonably warm. Lost amongst the thick forests on all sides sat a small lot. There was a small gas station, convenience store and quaint pub called The Narrow Lounge. There were four cars parked out front the small pub. About right for a Friday night. Not many frequented the bar but that didn’t stop owner Louie “Fast Eddie” Edwards from being there every single night. His home away from home…if he had a home.

Eddie was in good spirits because of an extra customer from a usual Friday. The beast of a man that called himself Marf. A fucked up name if Eddie ever heard, even for Vancouver. He had been quiet at first but a few hours in with several drinks it seemed he was opening up a bit. Even if he was mostly mumbling to himself, hunched over his drink at the bar. Noticing the brute’s glass was just under half filled Eddie began to slink over to where Marf sat. Eddie’s pupils had basically formed into little dollar signs as he considered tripling his usual night’s profit thanks to the stranger.

Top ya up, fella?

In response, Marf chugs the rest of whatever is in his glass and slides the empty over to Eddie.

I really shouldn’t if I’m gonna drive tonight…

Ah hell I ain’t letting you drive outta here. There’s a bus stop a ways down the road from here, tell ya what I’ll give ya a lift once we close up in an hour.

Look at me, relying on the kindness of strangers!

What’s that?

Nothing. I appreciate it mister, really.

Eddie let’s out a short burst of a deep belly laugh and even holds his greasy gut while letting out an exaggerated sigh.

I told ya before, call me Eddie. Or Eds. Or Edward. Just don’t call me fuckin’ mister! He huffs once more while pouring Marf another heavy round. So tell me friend, what’s on your mind that you’re trying to chase away with all these drinks?

Marf wants to at the very least mock this suddenly wisdom filled bartender so bad but he knows now is not the time. Not while he needs to keep a low profile. He somehow slaps a grin on his face and looks up at Eddie.

Ain’t nothing you haven’t seen before I’m sure. Just another “life is funny isn’t it” story. One minute you’re so blinded by love you’re literally stomping in skulls, the next you’re on the run while completely alone. Who gives a fuck, amirite?

Well now hold on there partner, maybe I give a fuck. Tell me your tale!

Marf groans before picking his drink up and downing the whole thing far too fast. He pretends to place his head on the bar and pass out in hopes this empathetic asshole shuts up so Marf doesn’t have to actually say it. Marf takes a slow breath and raises his head but the bartender is no longer standing there. In his place, to Marf’s bewilderment, stands Damien. His face looks swollen and misplaced but still better than when it was crushed under Marf’s shoe like a cockroach. Marf jaw hangs ajar while he stares in disbelief.


What?


Marf can feel the heat on his cheeks while he tries to suppress the anger.

…you fuckin’ pushed and you pushed. You put your hands on her right in front of me. You lit that fuckin’ fuse, not me!

Damien bursts into laughter while seemingly growing almost three feet taller.


Damien begins to sway back and forth, slowly at first but picking up speed.

What the fuck does that mean?

A sudden rumbling begins to make everything else inaudible in the tiny bar. Marf stands up while waiting for Damien to answer but he can barely see or hear anything.


Marf struggles to move closer but the ceiling begins to cave in right behind Damien. Marf stumbles backwards and crashes into the door, falling out of the establishment as it collapses in on itself. He lies on his back for a moment while a huge cloud of dust surrounds him. Marf coughs and rolls over while the dust finally begins to settle. He starts to get up while noticing the ground is still rumbling around him. Suddenly he is tackled back down as something much bigger rushes by almost crushing him.

Dammit! They’re throwing everything at us! That was a damn Ogre King!

…what?

No regular ogres are that big, he’s a king for sure. Guess you’ve never seen one eh? Grab your sword we don’t have much time! I dunno why but I just trust you.

Marf looks around and realizes he’s back in the huge coliseum. Fffffffuck…Marf growls to himself as he gets up and scoops up his fallen sword. He turns as a regular sized ogre approaches him. Marf plunges the sword deep into the vile beast’s stomach several times before shoving the dying creature to the ground. Four more ogres creep up on the scene while Marf raises his sword and spits at them. As they attempt to ambush him, two other gladiators join Marf and they massacre all four ogres easily.

Forget these ones, we have to take down the King or they just keep coming!

I think we’re the only three left…

They both remove their helmets. The female reveals her short, jet black hair while the male is bald other than some stubble on his chin and jawline. Marf eyes them both suspiciously while moving in between them.

Gee, I wonder who gets done in next?

They both turn and glare at Marf with confusion and mostly annoyance. He can’t help but smirk while they turn and face the Ogre King stomping towards them. Marf races ahead of them and the Ogre King swings the massive club it is holding only for Marf to roll out of the way. He tosses his sword and it spins and nails the Ogre King directly in the left eye. The monster roars in surprise and pain, swinging the club back wildly and this time connecting with Marf. He flies across the coliseum and crashes into the wall. The other two gladiators attack the blinded Ogre King and take it down while Marf tries to get back up, wobbling horribly.

The Ogre King slams to the dirt in a loud slam that the ravenous crowd loses their minds over. The two gladiators retrieve Marf’s sword out of the now-dead left eye of the Ogre King and begin to bring it over to him. He leans on the wall, still completely off balance. The giant coliseum doors begin to creak open once more as the crowd somehow continues screaming in excitement. Likely a load of ruined vocal chords tonight. All three of them stop though as the ground begins to rumble. They stare in awe at the new monster approaching.

Is that…



As if to answer, the scaly, massive beast roars and looks to the sky before shooting out a long blast of flames. It slowly lowers it’s head and locks eyes with the three remaining gladiators. With nothing but dirt, blood and dead bodies in between them, the gladiators realize they are in trouble. Marf starts to make another smart ass comment but collapses to the ground instead as everything around him blurs…[/b]

To be continued…

Another promo from who the fuck knows where!

The soothing sounds of Firestarter fade out while Marf steps into the frame. His winter beard is sneaking past handsome and into scraggly hobbit territory.

Opening shots fired, but what’s this? No Johnny Cage Coleman? All your fans were waiting with baited breath to hear what you had to say. Hopefully someone checks on that dude that passed out. You greasy nerd fuck, you took advantage of the perfect storm of an opportunity to basically steal the Xtreme title. And then what did you do? You tried to one up Bam by having an even shittier short reign. And now you can’t be bothered to hype yourself up before this title shot you don’t even fucking deserve.

Guess that’s the end of the Johnny Cage Coleman segments…fatality!

Marf rolls his eyes in disgust before moving on.

Now we go from the guy too busy sucking at life to show up, to the fuckwit that stole the title from him. The man who can now call himself a three time Xtreme champion. All fuckery aside, nobody can ever take that achievement from Reggie. But I can damn sure take away that Xtreme title away from you, Reg. Then you will forever have to add “former” in front of your achievement. And you know what, it is pretty obvious why you’re always going to be a former champion. Like a small child with something shiny, you can never pay attention.

Ya fuckin’ did it already with me, Reg. I can’t even say I’m surprised. You wasted all your time talking about my relationship with Lycana. Not even once but twice already. Good for you Reg, you went for the lowest hanging fruit possible, the shit was already on the ground rotting by the time you got to it. Anyone paying attention can see Lycana is moving along her path and I’m moving along mine and they are two different paths now. Who the fuck cares, get over it. Reg, you literally have spent your whole time up to this point obsessing on that shit.

It’s why you will lose. Weeding through all the shit you talk, especially about my past relationships, I can see how unfocused you are. How tight are you actually holding onto that belt? Better double check because I’m about to rip it away from you. What, you think I haven’t seen the shadow bit before? I’ve been on my own for months now, and in case you missed it my former partner isn’t flourishing without me. I didn’t hold her back anymore than she held me back. When I was with her I won titles, when I was without her I won titles. We’re two different entities so get the fuck over it.

Through all the anger, Marf looks like he genuinely hopes Reggie continues so he blows his focus in the title match.

Alrighty we should probably crack a cold one folks. Trust me, it’ll help get through the beer burp mumbling nonsense that Bam Miller stumbled through. I shouldn’t be mean, I actually like Bam Bam the most out of everyone in the match. That lack of respect for not just his opponents body but especially his own is admirable. Both you and I Bammer, we’re going to spill a lot of blood in that damn ring. Four different blood types splashing the canvas into a violent painting. Hmm, all our blood mixing though…

Marf stops and shakes his head in a depressed acceptance.

…Well fuck, thanks to Reggie we will all be leaving Iceland with an herpes…

Our precious hero Marf shudders at the thought but powers through to finish off this promo. What a trooper.

You don’t make it easy though, Bam Bam. To like you. No, not with all that god damn stupidity. Making dumbass jokes about dating completely unattainable folks to drinking your “I was an emo kid in college” looking face off during your promos. You’re just a great big package of uselessness, already proving your merit by how you lost the title. I don’t give a fuck who your friends are, or how close you think you are with Chris Page. None of that shit means anything to me.

And it won’t matter inside the ring either. Your bias towards violence is the only reason I want to see you at least fight another day. But when we enter that ring, regardless of any stipulations we have, I will tear you apart to get what I want. It’ll be heart break for the fucking Xtreme tapes. Miller time is about to run the fuck out. Because I’m not just coming to hurt three different piles of shit, no. Iceland will also be the dawn of a new era. A brand new Xtreme champion will be crowned…

For added effect, Marf slowly raises his arms in victory.

…And his fucking name is Marf!

And that’s a wrap kiddies, we are fading to black.