It’s one of XWF owner and all-around RAD DUDE’s infamous weekly backyard BBQs at the Pink Palisades, his expansive compound in Malibu, California. Inside the house, all of Vinnie’s favorite guests are gathered around the big table. We can see Gator, Theo Pryce, Roxy Cotton, and other faces familiar to fans of the company where the action never slows down.

Outside, though, in the backyard, is a set up for the, um… LESS desirable guests. You know. Lke a kids’ table at Thanksgiving? It eve sort of looks like it’s for kids, since none other than

“MINI MORBID DEMANDS THE LARGEST CUT OF THE PORK LOIN!!!”

Yup. He’s there. And he’s got a lot of food. He’s been stealing off the others’ plates. Like

“YOOOO C-App, you ate all them ribs already, bro-bro?”

“Fuck naw, Munq, I know you stole them shits when I was texting one of the several different centerfolds I been hooking up with!”

“You stupid, bro, but I know you definitely be fucking them Playboy bunnies just like I definitely do as well! Big Dick Energy, yay-ee-YEA!”

“Ay mon! Someone get dis mon away from me, all he be doin’ is talkin’ bout de mail. Jimmy wanna sing his new calypso song for de party! Listen good!”

Jamaican Jimmy, with his steel drum, begins playing a tune which he DEFINITELY did  not write, because it is DEFINITELY “Under the Sea” from Disney’s The Little Mermaid. Ari Silverstein turns to his other side and just keeps talking about mail to someone else, since Jimmy abandoned him.

“Aaaaanyway, pimp, peep this. First class mail gets forwarded, right? But not THIRD class. That’s that junk shit, you feel me? Them pre-approved credit card offers and shit. You want them sent to your vacation spot you gotta pay for a PREMIUM forward, feel me? Anyway, in the mail room down in the basement at the XWF? I got me a whole tub of magazines I ain’t forwarded…”

“Jesus CHRIST get this guy away from me! VINNIE! LET ME INSIDE, YOU JERK!”

It’s Gravy! He’s not a woman this time, hopefully, because that was a whole weird thing and Rox is still pretty mad about Vinnie putting his P in Gravy’s temporary V. Anyhoo, it’s pretty obvious Graves would rather be pretty much anywhere else than sitting in this yard next to Ari, but the man has an agenda. He’s got to sell Loverboy on a solid GOLD idea!

“Vinnie! Give me ten minutes to tell you about the Gravy Academy of Graps! I SWEAR Cadryn isn’t involved! We got Tommy Slavino! And that guy who did the 900 number for Madness! Marv Smegma! You LOVE Marv Smegma! I brought my top students! Remember Miss Furry? SHE CAN WRESTLE NOW! VINNIE!!!”

Gravy keeps banging on the sliding glass door, and that’s when we finally get to the star of this shindig. Sitting at the end of the table in front of a pile of ribs that CLEARLY started on someone else’s plate, is the greatest X-Treme Champion in XWF history, the leader of the BOB, and the HEAD TRAINER of Gravy’s wrestling school, GAG. It’s BIG PREESH of course!

“Got DAMN! I’m stuffed!”

Preesh illustrates this by grabbing his massive gut in both hands and dropping it on the tabletop. This causes a seesaw effect, and Mini Morbid is launched into the sky like the Challenger in 1986, probably on his way to a similar landing. He curses Preesh’s patrilineal descendants for 500 generations as he soars into the heavens.

(Side note: did y’all know Big Bird was supposed to be on the Challenger? Wouldn’t that have been INFINITELY worse as a kid, watching that shit on TV? Anyway, I digress.)

“Big Papa Preesh done did it again, boys! I hope Vinnie Lane got some good plumbing up in this BEEEE-YOTCH, because Preeshy-preesh is gonna drop an intestinal anvil right up in the septic tank in about five minutes! That gives me time to tell y’all a secret though… JETT STERLING IS A HOE! That ugly twig-dicked bitchtaint went and booked YA BOI in a steel cage match? Against Pariah Carey? Who TF even is that muhfucker? And Gravy too? BRUH. Me and G-Dawg are tight! That’s my homie cuz he know me! I trained his people up, and he put me in charge of the BOB! REPRESENT! Now I gotta drop his ass like a bad habit with the big brain chop, and flatten him with the Preeshquake Splash? Oh HELL nah! After I win, me and Jett gotta TALK about that shit! I gotta say though… I always wanted a chance to fuck up Hershey Squirt’s day. You think you bigger than Preesh? WE GON’ SEE!”

Preesh has to take a few deep breaths here because that was a lot of words. He takes the opportunity to lean forward and tighten the gout wraps around his calves before continuing.

“I’mma whip THEM ASSES on Anarchy, and then I’mma FUCK BITCHES! GET READY!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

Mini Morbid, singed from re-entry, crashes down right through the screened in patio and splash lands in the deep end of the pool. Gravy runs to his rescue!

“I’ve got you, little buddy!”

Graves dives in fearlessly and drags Mini Morbid out, immediately giving him mouth to mouth. This is when Vinnie finally comes outside, which Graves never notices. Vinnie talks loudly into his bluetooth while vaping like crazy.


“Dude, Jefferson, it’s a GREAT idea. Call WGWF, we’ll have our worlds collide, and Rox will take on Sonya Benson in a 9/11 tribute dual Jenga contest! It will PRINT MONEY, dude! Call me back!”


Vinnie turns and lets out a giant vape cloud… right into Big Preesh’s eyes!

“AAACK! I’m blind as hell! Oh SHIT that stings! Now I gotta wrestle that Anarchy match with no eyeballs… and all the commentators and play by play mofos definitely gotta make sure and talk about how blind I am! DAAAAAAMN! Lucky for me the crowd’s gonna help Ol’ Preesh! BE MY EYES, PREESH FANS!!!”

That’s it. That’s the end.