XWF∞

Can you smell that?

Take a deep breath and soak it all in.

The stench of freedom as it fills your lungs after the chains of censorship have been wrapped around you for years. Held down like a slave by your owner who whips you with his pink whip commanding his social justice warriors (by day, pedo army by night) to hold you down like a pack of stormtroopers, and I don’t mean the Star Wars kind!

Have you ever had a difference of opinion than someone else?? Have you ever felt that this difference of opinion was ignored completely and that everything you ever worked for just started to get signed away with an endless stream of executive orders that just just seem to never end. With absolutely no care to actually unify everyone like you promised when you took your oath to fairness?? Would you be willing to fight for your rights and stand up against this dictator and challenge his opinion, as he takes swift action by simply banishing any threat with the hammer of his over inflated ego… or perhaps you will cower like a bitch beneath the boot of his authority?

Have you perhaps heard two sides of an argument and then made a rational, not radical, decision based on the evidence that you’ve gathered and reviewed on your own from both sides of the story?? Or are you content with mainlining a line of bullshit by injecting it through your brain like a heroin addict who can’t get enough? Will you break outside of your own little safe space bubble of protection.. Open your eyes.. Think for yourself.. Stop supporting pedo sympathizers.. Follow the facts, and challenge the norm, or forever be caught in an endless loop of cookie cutter lack of creativity?

Challenge the chains that hold you down and break free of the oligarchs pulling the strings of their little puppets. As the weak minded fools perform for their puppet master and his gang of gourding gaylords, do they not feel shame and embarrassment at all when they dance on their strings? What do they do when they see these lords sitting on their thrones and spilling tea while passing judgements on them they wouldn’t dare confess to their face!

When you create the keys to the kingdom, you know how to get back inside despite how many times the new tenant tries to change the locks. The XWF beats in our hearts and pours through our veins, and we refuse to watch her die by the hands of some dick head douchebag demagogue, and despite the battle that is likely to ensue, we want the entire wrestling universe to know. As we break free from our chains and we have found our own ‘underground railroad’ and have escaped to a land of freedom! We’ve done this before, and will do it again. We will not disappear. We will not die. We have and always will prevail. For we are and always have been…. the XWF of the past, present, and the future. For……

We…..

Are….

XWF FOREVER!

As a commercial for some dumb college basketball tournament rip off in it’s third stage of creation plays before your eyes and you begin to wonder what kind of creative mind couldn’t come up with something more unique after doing the same monotonous overused bullshit twice in a row already that’s nothing more than a boring bracketology of bullshit. You sit and watch as the snow at Lambeau Field begins to fall and all the little mindless robots begin walking in to catch a glimpse of what can probably only be described as the worst name for a pay per view in the history of wrestling. Honestly, if you just want your fans to just get down on their knees and suck your dick because you’re trolling them and thinking you’re trying to be clever, then just come out and say it already and quit trying to make people decipher it with shitty pay per view names that basically insinuate it anyway.

As a pack of teenage boys in ‘Duke Nation’ t-shirts scamper in front of the camera as they sprint towards the entrance, we are immediately directed into the corner of the parking lot where an enormous brand new black suburban with a missing driver’s side window is parked hidden behind a tree as if it were trying to be as incognito as possible. It's in such an inconspicuous area that it might have very well been the spot where Brett Favre felt comfortable and secure enough to take pictures of his junk and then text message it to his numerous girlfriends.

When suddenly a clashing sound like a pair of beer mugs shattering to pieces after being slammed together interrupts any small amount of silent sound that had filled the parking lot previously besides a few giggles from the Duke Nation crowd which appears to be the majority of those come to watch this shit show of a spectacle. Suddenly the camera cuts and we are directed to a new feed inside the black suburban.

Sitting in the driver’s seat as he always is, none other than XWF General manager himself, Jon Taffer!

The reality tv star turns to face his passenger and looks them straight in the eyes when he is instead met with a rotting skull with its eye sockets caved in.

JON TAFFER: "YUCK! You know I’ve dealt with beer breath before, but nothing can even compare to something like this. Can you maybe back up a bit madam the smell of rotting flesh and scat is starting to get to be a little bit much."

HOGM and SHain back away by leaning back in their passenger chair as Jon Taffer turns on his high tech computer surveillance equipment on the dash in his suburban to the right of his steering wheel. The equipment is more advanced and detail oriented then the guiding rockets Trump used to blow that Iranian general away. Taffer smiles and nods as SHain obliged to his request.

JON TAFFER: "The first step is that you're willing to listen and to implement change in your wrestling federation SHain! We’ve got to get you on a ‘scatsex anonymous’ program so that we can start focusing on your fed and not focusing on what comes out of your former friends' assholes.

SHain: "I’m a trillion tons of fecal matter in debt Mr. Taffer, I’m practically up to my knees in scat here and I’m ready to bust open the books, flood out the pipes in the bathroom, upgrade to 2 ply toilet paper, and put forth the call for your help!"

JON TAFFER: "Now, let’s take a look and see what’s going on in the federation that you and MaMa Gilmour created with your bare hands and her elaborate brain. When you guys saved the XWF in 2012, it was very much like making it from scratch after all the damage that had already been done to it by the parasitic roster that kept showing up to complain and collect paychecks but never competed or put any promos out to help business. You started fresh back then, but speaking of fresh, let’s talk about the endless YEARS of sweat you have endured between the crevice of your loins since then. Why SHain? Why are your balls always so wet?!?!?"

SHain: "So that the bottom feeders can suck off the success of my loins. My cock always has the created juices flowing like a stream from a woman’s vagina when she’s in the vicinity of Peter Gilmour."

Taffer leans back and digests that for a few seconds and somehow sees straight to the point SHain was making.

JON TAFFER: "So what you’re telling me, is you put a cross-dressing 80’s hairband cosplay nincompoop in charge of your fed that has zero experience, zero eye for talent, zero marketing ability, and zero people skills. This is the fuckin’ hospitality industry for christs sake, SHain! What the fuck does this pink pantied idiot do besides be a total and complete FAILURE!"

SHain: "He tweets real good by promoting my new concept rather than trying to put over his own."

JON TAFFER: "Let’s just take a look at how things are going inside. Because, you know SHain, on the surface of things it would appear that you might have a beautiful wrestling federation here, but if you get down to the inner core you can see how it’s nothing but a total pay for play scheme set up by a bunch of pansy boys on a power trip. On the surface you may think you’re having fun, but in reality you’re really in just a never ending circle of control. In North Korea, the man at the top sucks down all the expensive cognac in a party with all his military buddies, while those outside his close circle are busy fighting over a half full dixie cup of piss water! Why is a stable allowed to stack its deck? Why are the same two soldiers ALWAYS in the main event?? Why is someone mocked and humiliated simply because he can’t articulate or express himself as well as them?? I’m more of a bar man than a psychiatrist or Merriam Webster editor, but I’m pretty sure that’s the textbook definition of bullying."

The two men peer into the computer screen together very intently and watch some recent "X-99" happenings, since clearly that’s the start of fixing the problems SHain has allowed to fester in the wrestling business. The majority of the shots are from the recent "Blow Job" pay per view SHain wouldn’t touch with a 69 foot pole. Throughout the entire viewing process Jon Taffer is making random faces of pure disgust that are so far over the top you would have thought he just got some kind of face lift.

JON TAFFER: "Let’s take a look at this first clusterfuck NFL ’how many jobbers can we squeeze into one gimmick match’ massacre mash up. I’m sure every single person in this match was happy to waste their time performing like a bunch of clowns in the court jester circus accomplishing nothing but being the butt of some sad and pathetic football pun joke. I’ve brought in one of my wrestling federation experts on this one SHain who also happens to be a manager of XWF’s own Kenny Olivier. This is my expert who has years of experience in the wrestling business, and his name is Jim Cornette.

In the backseat the infamous wrestling manager adjusts his glasses and leans over from the back seat to give his vicious review of this shit show of a match. His eyes are bulging out of his head as his face turns red and he starts shaking a tennis racquet over his head like a caveman swinging his club.

JIM CORNETTE: "Let it be known! I am the ‘manager of Kenny Olivier’ AGAINST my will and better judgement! But that’s not why we’re here."

SHain seems to be avoiding eye(socket?) contact with Jim for the time being as Jim shakes his head and snickers.

JIM CORNETTE: "Anyway we have a much bigger mess to fix. Can somebody please tell me just how in the fuck you’re supposed to get ANYONE over in a football fuckery match?!?!?! Wasn’t it bad enough when All Friends Wrestling did it??? Seriously is Vince Russo secretly working for this place like when Dixie Carter hid him under her skirt at TNA!? What kind of video game character -- expose the business -- type of bullshit is this anyway! I mean, what a mess. Anyone who participated in this nonsense ought to go straight to the booking agent and bend over right in front of him with their hands around their ankles and just accept it, otherwise that booking agent might have to be arrested on twelve counts of character rape since each and every person taking place in this got buried and wasted their time even participating."

Jim is breathing heavily and he’s getting red in the face. He’s heated, and rightfully so! It’s bad enough he’s been tricked into a 90 day contract to be Kenny Olivier’s manager, but now he has to sit and look at footage and discuss how terrible of an idea an "NFL" match in wrestling is.

JIM CORNETTE: "Why can’t someone just book a match and tell a story and get a couple of guys over so that they’ll be motivated to move forward with their careers, instead of participating in some gimmick match to appease the emperor while he sits back and nibbles on grapes in the coliseum watching a bunch of gladiators in Rome? And how many times did they have to change that shit show of a football fuckery match? It started as what- a 4 on 4? And then it’s a 6 on 6, then it’s a 5 on 7, then they’re taking people from one team and putting them on the other, and all of that fun takes place before we find out people on both teams are in cahoots to throw off the whole balance and fix the outcome! My guess is they’re heavy into some betting scam for them to get so finicky with such a throwaway match’s layout. And through all those changes, one thing that remained the same is that it just had to be a football fuckery match! What the hell is next, some type of Valentine’s Day five way make out session ‘massacre match’?!?!?!."

Both of the other men are shaking their heads and laughing a bit to themselves.

JIM CORNETTE: "Oh you better be fucking kidding me!"

Taffer hands Cornette a flyer advertising the next episode of Saturday Night Savage. Cornette balls it up into a wad of paper and flings the car door open in the back seat and then chucks the wad of paper in the air and hits it with his tennis racquet in mid air. It smokes some little kid in a ‘Duke Nation’ t-shirt in the back of the head who falls to the ground crying profusely. Cornette rushes back inside the suburban to conceal his identity quickly behind Taffer’s state of the art most blacked out tinted windows money can buy.

JON TAFFER: "The only thing that actually got over in this match despite how corny and cliche you consider your football puns to be, was Drezdin when he came running out on the field with his sexy internet girlfriend. If only the XWF99 crowd knew how to get as many viewers over the age of eighteen as Alinity’s twitch stream, then maybe they’d stop acting like pussies and start throwing a few cats around and giving us a couple of nip slips here and there.. The fact that Drezdin can literally drop the biggest CM Punk fourth wall pipe bomb that is so over your own head that you have the comprehension level of a fucking retard and you can’t get over it is beyond me. I wonder how the rest of the competitors in this match and in the entire federation feels, when you put the spotlight on the one who’s making a mockery of you instead of moving along and putting the focus on the folks that actually give a damn and put forth a lot of effort in the month of January! By the way, speaking of January, someone better remind Theo before ‘XWF99 presents’ itself and gets down and delivers that Blow Job that it’s in fact the year 2021. I know we couldn’t stand out in the streets and celebrate it in Times Square because of covid like they did in Wuhan, but I guess when you’re just full of the same monotonous creative ideas year after year it all just flows into one never ending circle of complete cookiness!"

SHain: "Let’s be honest, Drezdin is their top star at the moment. I’d vote for Drezdin but the secret account I tried voting with the other day doesn’t have voting privileges. Turns out, he’s already got votes rolling in regardless because it’s just one big joke I guess Haha."

JON TAFFER: "That’s not the point SHai- wait what happened? What are you talking about voting privileges?"

SHain: (sounding extra stern and adulty, pointing that authoritative finger at Jon!) "You have to earn the privilege to get voting turned on for your account now, sir. It’s for the best. We don’t want people with undesirable opinions weighing in!"

Jon rolls his eyes and looks out the window just going "what the fuck" to himself, not even sure if SHain’s being serious or sarcastic right now. Either way, Jon’s here to do a job and not waste his time worrying like a pussy about which people have to be silenced from a so-called public vote. Meanwhile, Jim Cornette has his eyes locked in horror on whatever "99 era" footage is being played next and he looks ready to have a stroke.

JON TAFFER: "Let’s talk about match quality as far as the amount of effort a wrestler has put into it as far as getting himself over is concerned."

JIM CORNETTE: "Yes, I would definitely like to talk about that Mr. Taffer That’s my fucking speciality!!"

JON TAFFER: "I bet you do Jim, now tell me SHain, why is it that someone who trains countless hours and puts themselves out there promoting themselves constantly gets a short ten second match. It sounds like the management team is the ones failing in this regard as they need to be a leader in this scenario."

SHain: "I wish I could disagree with you Jon, but this management crew silences those that might bring this concern to them and in fact encourage bullies to beat down on anyone that would dare question their integrity and it’s a damn shame Mr Taffer indeed. When egotistical assholes who are trying to make themselves relevant when they never really were to begin with gang up on noobs and that’s exactly how you run your new talented superstars away Jon."

JON TAFFER: "What about this shooting star female championship match, anything I should know about that?"

SHain: "Yeah that reminds me, did you know that you can’t actually see something in an RP (realtime promo) and mention it even though it just took place in front of your very eyes? And if you MENTION not being able to, you can get fucked."

JON TAFFER: "What the fuck are you talking about, that doesn’t make any sense at all."

SHain: "Of course it doesn’t, you see, in this ‘special’ wrestling federation you’re not allowed to even watch your first opponent’s promo until you’ve cut one of your own. In fact, you have to wear blindfolds and ear plugs until you cut your first promo in order to make sure, and if you peek even just a little bit, it may cost you and you’ll have to eat a pin! And you also can’t mention this weirdo fuckin’ rule or you get raped!"

JON TAFFER: "You can’t be serious?!"

SHain: "Well, there is a little loophole you see, if you're in the big main event and you mention this silliness then you’re likely to become the big Universal Champion! Even though mentioning it will ‘hurt’ your push and momentum if you’re just someone that can easily be trolled away in the nighttime mist. I know it’s crazy, but that’s just the way things work around here!"

JON TAFFER: "Unbelievable. Let’s take a look at the next couple of matches. Next we have a World title match that hasn’t been relevant since the last Barney Green promo when it’s the only thing he can talk about to try and get himself over. And once again general manager BigD seems to be filling right into Barney’s belt loop size as it appears to be the only thing that has ever been able to get him over as well!! A title designed and created to keep the little mutts happy just like throwing them a fucking bone. In fact, the only way we’re going to get Barney over is to let him win a title in a match that he was never booked in to begin with! Too bad we didn’t have an Exorcist present or we could have turned this match into something a little more interesting than a Rob Schneider movie.



JON TAFFER: "Next another championship match for a bunch of folks that like to poke their head in the pink little pansy boys asshole once for a brief moment every two weeks just to get a good lick at his crack. The match really isn’t as important anyways as KEEPING YOUR EYES ON HER so don’t even pay attention to it anyway."

SHain: "She’s back! She’s back! Someone must have told her I’d vanished so she finally felt safe! Unlike when she was afraid to let herself end up in a trios tag match unless she could choose everybody on the opposing team! HAHA! Gave up the whole damn Universal title rather than risk being exposed and caught outside of her safe zone. What’s great about this though is how much Duke’s retarded ass can’t stand her so you know he’s cry jacking it into a fucking sauce pan and drizzling it all over his own face right about now."

JON TAFFER: "Speaking of Duke, the rest of the matches are just filler information and I think it’s time to fast forward to the grand finale. The Coup de grâce if you will."

Jon Taffer pulls out a laptop from under his seat and hits play on a video.

JIM CORNETTE: "Who’s Duke? And what the fuck am I looking at now?"

SHain looks at the surveillance screen and almost throws up.

SHain: "That’s Duke… *sigh*... he’s the guy that got exposed as a pedophile because people originally started joking about it but then after taking a second look at several things he’s said and done, we all realized he actually IS a pedophile inside and outside of his shitty wrestling persona."

JIM CORNETTE: "A pedo? Well what the fuck’s next? A rapist and a klansman going around screaming the N word and beating up queers?"

SHain: "Nah, those are on the censored list, but apparently being a pedophile is OK! And plagiarizing Disney and the Lion King characters to lure in kids is acceptable too. Who knew?"

JIM CORNETTE: "So let me get this straight... you can’t be a heel and get real heel heat, but it’s ok if you diddle kids? Funny I don’t remember any PEDO gimmicks in wrestling but I’ve sure seen my fair share of deplorable racists, bigots, terrorists, killers, and everything else under the sun! Is this ‘99th Lane’ movement just a contrived way of doing the opposite of what any wrestling company would do? ’Can’t be a killer! Can’t say mean things! But oh yeah, touching kids is fine!’ What in the actual fuck, SHain?"

SHain: "Not my rule. But yes. Apparently that’s the case. Oh, and get this… when news of this broke?"

Jim’s eyebrows perk up.

JIM CORNETTE: "Yeah?"

SHain: "The pedo was their top champion. A pedophile who was also exposed as cheating and pulling other nasty shit behind the scenes in addition to diddling kids, was their top champion. Even without the pedo stuff, all the other shit would be enough to get him blacklisted by a management team with any common sense."

JIM CORNETTE: "That bad, huh? Well his title reign obviously must have come to an end as soon as news broke, right?"

SHain: "Nope."

Jim’s face contorts and he’s about to respond but SHain just says it again.

SHain: "Nope."

Cornette has no words. He simply looks away from the screen as footage of several "Duke Nation" members was being shown for an uncomfortably long time while they changed in the locker room together.

Jon Taffer happens to glance at the screen and we get this…

Taffer almost throws up at whatever act was being depicted on that screen right when his eyes met it! The footage isn’t shown to us so we don’t know what’s happening on that screen, but the sounds of children screaming could definitely be made out for a few seconds there.

SHain: "And they present this shit in a serious manner as if it should be taken seriously, as art. They’re not even joking or mocking pedos with this shit!"

Taffer is just staring in awe, perhaps finally letting it sink in that this will be his hardest "rescue" to date. He has saved hundreds of failing shit holes in the past with shitty management, but this was a very different pedigree of scum.

JON TAFFER: "I didn’t want to believe you SHain, I kept saying to myself there’s just absolutely no way that this could all be true, until then finally I saw a clip from an older Croaton promo that took me over the top!"

Taffer pulls out a second laptop from underneath his seat from his endless supply in a secret compartment in the suburban. On the screen is a small girl and a creepy looking dude (Croaton aka DUKE) who is oddly staring at her up and down and pressuring her to give her story practically drooling and foaming from the mouth and slipping his fingers down the front of his pants gleefully excited to hear what she has to say.

Girl: "Seven. I was seven years old."

Pervy Duke Croaton: "And when trying to talk to him didn’t work, then what?"

Girl: "I had my brother fuck me."

Girl: "I was on my bed and wearing only a nightgown. I raised it to show him I wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He tried to look away but couldn’t. He was 15 with raging hormones and I used that against him. I started to play with myself and the more I did it, the less willpower he had to look away."

Taffer fast forwards a little and the same thing is still happening as the next thing heard booming from those speakers is...

"Seven. I was seven years old!"

Suddenly the feed cuts away from the screen and out of the speakers on the laptop comes a low emancipating bellow like a decomposing voice can be heard crying out his name…

"CROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOATON!"

"CROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOATON!"

Before it can continue Taffer smashes the laptop against the dash of the suburban to stop the moaning from tearing apart anyone else's ear drums any further.

JON TAFFER: "That’s it! I’ve seen enough! I’m going in there, we've got to get started right away!"

Taffer says, throwing his hands in the air and then kicks the driver's side door open, tearing it off the hinges without even trying to open the lock. The door goes flying off so far and fast that it ends up traveling over one of the goal posts at Lambeau Field.

JON TAFFER: "No way we’re just going to just settle for a field goal this time. We’re going to go all the way because I don’t embrace excuses. I embrace solutions, and it’s time to get my dick dirty and start shoving it up this wrestling federation’s useless asshole that should have been done years ago! This time, I came out to clean something far worse than cockroaches out of this dirty den of mentally diseased dipshits!



He begins his angry fast paced strut up to the front of the arena and as he arrives at the front gates of Lambeau Field he kicks open the front doors and sends them flying off their hinges as well. As he enters the arena a bright green mist begins flooding the baby blue that was formally flooding the colors scheme of the place away and an entire new arena begins to take shape as if Taffer’s mere presence alone has changed the entire landscape of the place.

Almost as if we had been transported to a different world with brighter colors and thicker air.

As if some of the SHIT had been left behind and we got a NEW start on rescuing the XWF from the inferior sheep that were dragging it down the last few years. The entire stadium transposes itself and we are suddenly LIVE…….

FRIDAY NIGHT FRENZY LIVE FROM THE WINTRUST CENTER IN CHICAGO, ILLINOIS!

The inaugural Friday Night Frenzy launches from a black screen on a local Chicago feed. Sprawling shots of the Illinois landscapes and downtown buildings lead to an eventual Wintrust Center zoom, XWF00's green logo on the billboard.

TONY BOLOGNA: "Folks we are herrrreee! Finally XWF FOREVER has launched!"

DICK WUZZY: "And our first lineup is an absolute shit show!"

TONY BOLOGNA: "Dick, you promised!?"

DICK WUZZY: "WELL SORRRRYY, IT IS! Shane Carver knows XWF, but apparently he and GM Taffer have lost their damn minds!"

TONY BOLOGNA: "Not sure who you’re talking about but I’m sure you can talk to SHain KarvHOGMblo about it later!"

DICK WUZZY: "Oh jesus. Maybe I’ll go fuck myself instead."

TONY BOLOGNA: "He is just kidding FOLKS! Moving right along, tonight we lead off with the newcomer Kenny Olivier, the indy legend Russell the looooovve Muscle, and an XWF Forever stake holder in Chariti?"

DICK WUZZY: "I’m pretty sure Kenny is an ‘indy legend’ in his own right too but I guess management isn’t letting him use the Omega name. Heh. And what’s this about former stake holder Chariti? Already favoritism, what a surprise! How did she get in there with these guys?? She should be on the street. She knows somebody, simple as that Bologna!"

A loud gong rings out over the PA system. Lighting strikes the stage as everyone holds their breath in anticipation of the first ever XWF Forever entrance.

DICK WUZZY: "WHAT THE FUCK?? More HOGM MANURE!?"

Music hits the PA inside the Wintrust Center.

TONY BOLOGNA: "I know that music, that's THE HU!"

DICK WUZZY: "PETER FUCKING GILMOUR, BOLOGNA! Business just picked up!"

Smoke from the stage strike clear as Gilly stands at the top of the ramp with a microphone in his hand. The fans begin to realize who it is and lose their shit, tossing popcorn, soda, and each other around. Gilly grins widely as the XWF Legend holds the mic to his lips.

PETER F'N GILMOUR: (fans echoing along) "X... W... F!"

The sound in the arena overtakes the mics in all parts, as the announcers nearly fall over in their chairs from the vibration it causes.

PETER F'N GILMOUR: "XXXXXXXXXXXXXXTREEMMMEEE!!"

Another wide grin as he purposely riles up the crowd for the inaugural Frenzy.

TONY BOLOGNA: "He's still got it!"

DICK WUZZY: "YOU SHUT YOUR FACE WHEN LEGENDS SPEAK, TONY!"

Seriousness engulfs Peter's face after a bit of crowd play, he continues...

PETER F'N GILMOUR: "I am not just here for nostalgia. Though that is a nice side effect, ha! NOOO! I am here to show all these new XWF people in back that the only way to win here, the onnnnly WAAYYY to become the most Xtreme... a legend like me... is THROUGH ME!"

He drops the microphone in the center of the stage, this flips off the crowd as they soak in every solitary second.

DICK WUZZY: "FUCK YEAH!!!"

TONY BOLOGNA: "Well, folks, in order to do that tonight Gilly will have to take out another XWF Legend in the man that is SCULLYYYYY! These two have a storied past, and it will only get another chapter right here on FRENZY! We are leading off with the best tonight, no sugar coating, no parental warnings, just the best XWF Universe action that you deserve! The fans matter, the staff is listening, which is why we have put together a show to kick this off right! It's more than XWF at its best, the Carver era resumes by putting your stomachs in your chests!"

DICK WUZZY: "I admit that is a damn solid match between two guys you have to respect for what they've done, but what WILL they do here tonight to ensure those legacies are cemented? What have you done for me lately, Bologna? Well, not you, YOU'VE DONE NOTHING."

TONY BOLOGNA: "I've done plenty you jerkoff... what a way to kickoff the show, lightning literally strikes the stage! Now onto our Announcer, hey our budget was spent elsewhere on pyro lightning and shit, COTTOONN PANN!"

The shot finds an old pathetic looking punked out 40-something loser with teenager bleached tip and an unenthusiastic New Jersey stare holding a mic in his hands by the ring bell. After some coaxing he finally does his fucking job for once... reading begrudgingly off an XWF00 cue card. Dick Wuzzy lights up a cigar indoors much to the body language chagrin of Tony.

COTTON PAN: "Ladies and... gentle... men? Are they? OKAY- OKAY! This match is scheduled for one fall. It is a triple threat or something. The referee is Cheeto Brice. Firstly, out of the Cornette stable, Kenny Oilvier, also known as Twinkle Toes McFinger Bang?? Is this card accurate? Oh, live mic?"

Olivier emerges to the ramp led by Jim Cornette, who seems exceptionally angry and disgusted by everything and everyone around him, including Kenny.

Kenny poses in his Fingerbang motif, then quickly makes his way down to the ramp as Cornette shakes his head and rolls his eyes. Streamers hit from all sides in multiple colors. Kenny hops on the apron gyrating his hips wildly like a horny jackrabbit as Cornette gestures toward him and mouths "look at this fuckin’ guy" to the fans in the front row. Kenny hops inside the Friday Night Frenzy ring.

TONY BOLOGNA: "No Holds Barred is an important thing to know about this one, sorry about the announcing, folks. Cotton just got out of a Wesley Chapel oxy rehab and is not up to speed just yet. We have intros for fellow newcomers Russell the Love Muscle- popular on the Indy circuit, and Miss Chariti still to come here..."

Smoke drifts into the face of Bologna.

DICK WUZZY: "You're really being tough on the PA tonight, Bologna. Maybe he is doing his best."

Dick reclines puffs smoke rings into the sky toward the arena smoke detectors.

TONY BOLOGNA: "Yeah, everyone seems to be... boy, I sure hope not..."

COTTON PAN: "ANNNDDDD NOOWWW! Chariti, the hottie bo'body!"

Tony looks over at Cotton, in disbelief that that is all he has to say.

TONY BOLOGNA: "Don't over exert yourself, Cotton. In any case, hhhhhere she comes... what an arrogant piece of..."

DICK WUZZY: "Hot ass! Careful Bologna, she is a stakeholder, she can have you replaced with someone who isn't full of Bologna!"

Flickering lights begin to tell the story of the next entrant. An arrogant strut accompanies swaying hips in the form of Chariti. She smiles briefly before returning to a bitchy scowl. Making her way down to the ring, she blows kisses at haters, ignoring the whistles at her radiating hotness. Up the steps, she tells Cheeto Brice to hold the ropes open for her. In the ring corner is a preset standing mirror, she examines herself in, posing and deliberately ignoring fans.

DICK WUZZY: "She is gonna do great things here, I CAN FEEL IT!"

TONY BOLOGNA: "That may be an erection, DIck."

A ring hand pulls the mirror out. Chariti and Kenny get a feel for each other from across the ring, Jim Cornette crows on the outside like a wounded raven that doesn't know when to shut the fuck up. Kenny looks down at Jim with a wink. Cornette berates the Referee about how tight the ring ropes are. Kenny Olivier uses the distract to drop the unsuspecting Chariti in the middle of the ring. He gnaws on the top of her head like a rabid dog. Cheeto finally turns around signaling for the bell, while Russell The Love Muscle is shown on the new green state of the art X-tron tied up in a closet with what appears to be tennis racquet string, missing his entrance cue from the Gorilla position.

TONY BOLOGNA: "GEEEE I wonder who did that?? Jim Cornette gets kicked out of every place he goes, and is off to a similarly great start with his new pupil here..."

DICK WUZZY: "I don’t know if I’d call Kenny his pupil. Jim can’t stand Kenny and I think that’s pretty clear from everything Jim’s said, like ever.."

Jim walks over to commentary and grabs a headset and starts yelling!

JIM CORNETTE: "LISTEN UP! AND I’LL SAY THIS ONCE FOR EVERY SMART ASS AT HOME TOO! You wanna know why I’m out here with Kenny Olivier? I’m out here with that simpering, prissy prancing, finger pointing, jazz hands having, buttplug face making, silly fuckwit because your boss is a scumbag who had me sign something I didn’t know I was signing when I was under the influence of some not-to-be-named substances! So FUCK NO he ain’t my pupil!"

TONY BOLOGNA: "Then why take part in that obvious attack on Russell? Or are you going to deny it?"

JIM CORNETTE: "Fuck no I won’t deny it! And I did it because I’m here to do a job, and you better bet your bottom dollar when ol’ Jim Cornette has a job to do he’s gonna do it thoroughly. THAT’S why Russell’s down and out… and because my shitty client has a much better chance beating up this weird, conceited little girl than he does a grown man! Thank you very much!"

Jim slams down the headset and storms away from the commentators’ table.

DICK WUZZY: "Jesus Jim, tell us how you really feel."

Meanwhile in the ring, Kenny Olivier looks more than ready to tango with Chariti…

DICK WUZZY: "Holy shit this guy’s creepy as fuck."

The bell ring officially from the Brice hand gesture, Cheeto apparently having submitted to the fact that Russell is not making it down to the ring given his entanglement. The bout begins as Chariti struts her ass in front of a reeling Kenny in the corner, then uses her hips to strut directly into devastating hip thrusts into his abdomen. She raises his chin, then slaps him across the face, Olivier falls to one knee using the ropes to keep from falling. Jim screams obscene shit at Cheeto to stop the onslaught against his client, but then transitions to screaming at his client to stop letting a little girl whoop him like a dog.

DICK WUZZY: "Kenny tried a tactic and it backfired! Never mess with someone who looks like success! OOOOOoollaalla!"

TONY BOLOGNA: "Cornette all over Cheeto AND all over Kenny. Does this guy ever shut up!? Chariti now in firm control, stomping on the fingers of Kenny."

Kenny groans in pain from the barrage of kicks, slaps, and shoves. Finally, he grabs Chariti's tights, and flings her into the second turnbuckle, buying some time to recover. Jim rolls him a 5 Hour Energy, using his racquet to wave fresh oxygen into his face while telling him to stop dreaming about Japanese school girls and get back in there. Brice warns Jim about interfering in the match. Chariti shakes off the cobwebs, getting up with a bitchy rage in her eyes, she turns and runs but right into a drop toe hold Kenny sprung instantaneously. He hops on her back trying to secure a cross-face pullback submission, but she scurries to the ropes to avoid the attempt. Cheeto stands them back up in the center, they tie up freshly this time.

DICK WUZZY: "He was trying to rip her face off! WHYYY!?"

TONY BOLOGNA: "All's fair in love and... what was that bullshit you spewed earlier??"

Dick blows more cigar smoke into Tony's expressionless face. Kenny gets caught in a side headlock, then reverse pivots to a wrist lock behind Chariti. She grabs a handful of his hair, then he grabs a handful of hers, the two drop in unison to the mat, and here comes Russell with a big splash!

DICK WUZZY: He made it! Russell made it out to the match after all! And what an impact!

Russell misses both of them and lands with a hard thud on the canvas. Kenny grabs Russell and hits a snap german suplex, then as Russell is stunned and on his knees Kenny blasts him with the V Trigger flying knee!

Chariti surprises Kenny and dumps him out of the ring! She grabs Russell and hits BANKRUPT!

DICK WUZZY: "She hit her patented version of that suplex backbreaker perfectly!"

She goes for the cover…

...1

...2

...THREE!

Winner: Chariti

Jim Cornette is seen verbally berating Kenny and whacking him with his tennis racquet as the two retreat to the back and Chariti celebrates her victory in the ring.

Suddenly the arena is filled with the sound of a speaker thumping throughout the arena and it keeps repeating the same word over and over again from the DethKlock song..

"HATE! HATE! HATE! HATE! HATE! HATE! HATE! HATE!"

Then from behind the curtain stepping up onto the ramp is none other than the XWF legend himself, DREZDIN!!!!!! Looking confident and as cool as ever, in fact, I’d say he’s practically a new man after getting all that off his chest.

DICK WUZZY: "HE’S HERE!! The legend is here! We heard rumors that he would be arriving after his epic CM Punk pipe bomb promo that put a bunch of people in their place despite the pack of RETARDS not being able to decipher what it meant."

TONY BOLOGNA: "Careful, DICK, you can’t use that word, it's offensive!"

DICK WUZZY: "How else do you describe a bunch of idiots who can’t understand basic english, WHY DON’T YOU PICK ON SOMEONE YOUR OWN SIZE!!! I mean, for god’s sake Tony, if someone isn’t able to articulate themselves as well as you and be as coherent I guess you should just bully and/or banish them forever!!! "

TONY BOLOGNA: "I think that was the entire point of the fourth wall CM Punk-esque pipe bomb promo actually DICK, to leave them all confused as the joke backfired on them and they all allowed themselves to be trolled and give him the attention he craved! The center of attention once again handed to him on a silver platter by the pack of raging nitwits that can’t even realize when someone is trolling them all right to their fucking faces! Better go tweet about it so I can feel better about myself lecturing the little guy, DICK!."

Drezdin is sporting his brand new XWF Forever t-shirt on sale while supplies last. On the front of the shirt it says "Coherent This Cocksuckers!!" With an arrow pointing down to his dick. And on the back of the t-shirt it says "Articulate this Assholes!!" With an arrow indeed pointing down to his asshole.

As he’s making his way down the runway he begins chucking what appears to be "Hate buttons?" at people’s foreheads.

One of them hits some dude in the front row in the face and he starts crying uncontrollably as he kneels over in immense pain. His pants begin to fall off as he bends over writhing in pain, and it’s obvious that his dick has completely disappeared!!! A hate button that immediately makes your dick shrivel up and start crying uncontrollably!! Drezdin grabs a microphone from out of his pants pocket and starts screaming in the poor dudes face…

DREZDIN: "COHERENT THAT COCKSUCKER!"

The crowd boos but Drezdin doesn’t seem to care or even really notice as he steps under the ropes and enters the ring and then holds the microphone up to his asshole and rips a long and wet nasty fart.

DREZDIN: "ARTICULATE THIS ASSHOLE!!"

The crowd boos even more intently as Drezdin just keeps chucking hate buttons left and right while grown men with missing penises begin running out of the arena crying like toddlers in a Croaton promo.. Drezdin whips out a picture of his former ‘fearless leaders’ face and tosses it on the ground. He takes out his dick and starts urinating right on the face in the picture.

DREZDIN: "BE MY BITCH, ASS WHOLE!!!!!"

The camera starts blurring and censoring Drezdin’s face instead of his junk and it’s likely some television editor in the back just lost his job and eventually the entire scene is cut as we go to commercial.

Peter Gilmour -vs- Scully (Winner receives a shot at the Frenzy title at the next show!)

Peter and Scully immediately go at each other, Scully flips the god of extreme with an arm drag, and Peter pops back up, going back after Scully, who flips him onto his back again with an arm drag. Peter gets back up again and the two circle. Peter goes for a kick, Scully catches it, spins him back for a clothesline, but Peter ducks it, dropping him back with a suplex.

Peter pops back up immediately. Scully grins.

TONY BOLOGNA: These two have a long history. They both know each other so well. And from their days over in that 'other' XWF, they are more than ready for this contest.

DICK WIZZY: And the winner gets a title shot. Is this really the example we wanna set for those just tuning in?

The two circle again. Peter, staying the aggressor, this time locks up with Scully. Peter overpowers, and tosses the Englishman into the corner. Running and splashing Scully, Peter grabs him as he stumbles out and whips him into the other corner. Running towards him, he goes for a clothesline but Scully moves and Peter crashes into the corner. As he stumbles back, Scully rolls him up with a small package.

1

2

Peter pops out of it.

Peter stands up and points a finger, grinning. Scully gives him the "this close" symbol with his fingers.

Peter swings at Scully, who ducks again, and lifts the X-Treme one up and drops him over his knee. Peter grabs at his junk as Scully knocks him over with a clothesline.

Peter pops back up to his feet with his impressive athleticism and blows a kiss to his main squeeze Valerie Sky.

VALERIE SKY: “I love you baby!"

Scully leaps towards Peter for a forearm but Peter ducks and goes behind him and delivers a german suplex. It hardly fazes Scully as he rolls back to his feet and throws a back kick to the nuts of Peter who doubles over. Scully rebounds off of the ropes and goes for a hurricanrana but he underestimates the superdick strength of Peter Gilmour and eats a sit out powerbomb!

1

2

Scully heel kicks Peter in the ear to break up the pin.

Peter argues with the referee and begins slapping Cotton around.

BOOOOOOOOO

Peter grabs senior referee Cotton by the ear in angst when suddenly, Scully rolls him up!

1

2

Late kick out! Scully is looking at Cotton like “what the fuck?" while the audience boos.

Scully and Peter both grab Cotton by the ears and heatbutt him simultaneously!

TONY BOLOGNA: “That’s no way to treat an referee!"

DICK WUZZY: “Did he ask for it though?"

TONY BOLOGNA: “I don’t condone what’s happened to Cotton tonight."

Scully throws a right into Peter’s jaw and Peter returns with a kick to his knee cap. Peter positions him for the Gilmour Driver… Scully low blows to escape it but it has no effect on Peter’s super dick. Peter throws a club down into the back of Scully to double him over but Scully as a last resort empties the tank with 6 more low blows to Peter’s super dick followed by a palm thrust to his eye socket.

The crowd boos a little at this as well.

Peter stumbles back, holding his eye. Scully sets him up for his finisher as he stalks Gilmour.

Valarie Sky is up on the apron and she grabs Scully's arm. Scully turns around to confront her. This gives Peter the moment of hesitation he needs to take advantage of the situation.

She jumps down from the ring apron and Scully turns around into a super kick to the face from Peter.

TONY BOLOGNA: JIMMITY CRICKET! PETER GILMOUR ALMOST TOOK SCULLY'S HEAD OFF WITH THAT KICK!

Peter falls into a cover.

1

2

3---NO! Scully gets a shoulder up at the last second!

Peter slaps the mat in frustration!

He really thought he had the win there. He covers again.

1

2

After a Scully kick out, Peter fires off a hard forearm shot before looking up to see Valarie on the ring apron again. He walks over to her and the two embrace in a hug.

Valarie begins to dance and wiggle her shapely derriere and go down on Peter. She rubs his legs and opens the top of his wrestling trunks.

TONY BOLOGNA: I don't think we can show this on Network Television.

DICK WUZZY: Shut up Tone! Get it girl!

She then slips something out of her bra and into the shorts of Gilmour. A close up camera shot shows that it is a set of brass knuckles. Cotton doesn't see it, as he is checking on Scully.

Peter turns around and picks up Scully, dropping him again with a scoop slam.

Scully tries to get up and Peter reaches into his shorts for the knucks.

Scully uses the ropes to lift himself up. Peter is sizing him up. Just as Scully gets to his feet, Peter swings.

BUT SCULLY DUCKS.

He comes off the ropes, knocking Cotton into Valarie who flies off the apron! He comes back on the rebound. Peter goes for a clothesline, and Scully ducks. He comes off the ropes the other way and kicks Gilly in the gut.

"Da End"!!!! The Cross Rhodes maneuver on Gilmour. Cotton is down for the cover as Scully hooks the leg.

1

2

3!!!!!!!!

TONY BOLOGNA: HE DID IT. BY GOD HE DID IT! SCULLY SURVIVES AND NEXT WEEK ON FRENZY HE'S GOING TO GET A SHOT AT THE FRENZY TITLE!

Scatbear is seen working in the concession stand naked with nothing but a yellow cap on and he’s placing Tostino’s pizzas on top of a George Foreman Grill and cracking open can after can after can of 16 oz beer cans of Pabst Blue Ribbons and lining them up one by one for the fans to come purchase for a dollar a piece. When suddenly the back door of the concession stand comes flying past the camera as Jon Taffer has just made another door fall victim to his reign of terror. He walks around next to SHain as Taffer begins inspecting the kitchen

JON TAFFER: "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS, RAW CHICKEN!!"

He says holding up a lump of some disgusting brown tar looking stuff.

SHain: "No, that’s scat!!"

Taffer holds the scat up to SHain’s face closer so it’s right under his nose.

JON TAFFER: "SMELL THIS!!!"

SHain takes in a deep breath through his nose and HOGM’s eyes roll back into the back of her head as his body shakes a little bit as if it may have just given him/herself an orgasm.

JON TAFFER: "WOULD YOU EAT THIS!!!"

SHain: "Actually yeah, that looks kind of good."

As SHain starts to stick out his tongue to lick it, Taffer slings the shit off his fingers into the corner of the room as a dejected look then comes over HOGM’s face. Taffer then starts to make his way into the back room where he discovers something completely disturbing….

JON TAFFER: "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS, DO I EVEN WANT TO KNOW!?!"

Taffer says holding the mysterious warm, yellow liquid bucket in the air. He drops it directly on the floor and it splashes everywhere even directly up in his face and in his mouth!

JON TAFFER: "SHUT IT DOWN!! CLEAN UP THIS DISGUSTING KITCHEN NOW!!! NOBODY EATS!!!!"

Taffer storms out the kitchen and tries to kick down the door that is already long gone from when he entered and makes his way out into the arena to rescue more areas of the wrestling federation in need.

SHain: "It’s piss…."

Rhys -vs- Bonnie Blue

Rhys is walking backstage, pumped up for the match. Stretching their arms and trying to get themselves pumped up. As Rhys is about to get to the staging area behind the curtain to make their entrance, they are attacked from behind by someone. The camera pans around and we see its Bonnie Blue. Bonnie clubbed Rhys in the back, knocking them over and forcing them to fall forward.

TONY BOLOGNA: What the hell?! Bonnie Blue just attacked Rhys from behind and is now stomping away at them!

DICK WUZZY: Ummm yeah, its an unsolicited backstage brawl Tone. Do you pay attention to anything outside flavored coffee and Hustler Magazine?

Blue picks up Rhys, throwing them face first into some scaffolding. A referee appears, apparently sent by Taffer to be ready in case either one goes for a pinfall. Blue again kicks Rhys in the gut, then tosses them into a vending machine, denting it. Rhys is panting, trying to get up but Bonnie is relentless. A kick to the head, and Bonnie grins as she looks for something else to hit Rhys with.

TONY BOLOGNA: Rhys just never got off the blocks here. Bonnie Blue has been the aggressor early on and continues to be. This one is trending downward here for Rhys!

DICK WUZZY: It is the XTREME wrestling federation, is it not? Bonnie is simply fulfilling her contractual duties!

Picking up a pipe from nearby, Bonnie cracks Rhys over the back with it. They groan, rolling over. Bonnie goes for a cover.

1

2

Rhys is able to get a shoulder up.

She gets on top of the downed Rhys, landing some brutal forearm strikes. She then changes the approach and begins to land Muay Thai style elbow strikes. Getting off of Rhys, Bonnie wipes her mouth and grins a wicked grin again. Rhys is trying to get up, and Bonnie kicks them in the gut.

Dragon whip!

TONY BOLOGNA: WHAT A KICK TO THE SIDE OF THE HEAD THERE FROM BONNIE BLUE! JESUS SHE IS AGGRESSIVE!!

Grabbing a television camera cable, an absolutely possessed Bonnie locks in a hangman choke, using the camera chord.

Bonnie eventually legs go. She pops up and leg drops Rhys. Rolling off, Bonnie slaps a bunch of cups and refreshments off a nearby table.

Rhys, bleeding a little now, is up to all fours. Bonnie picks Rhys up, laying them on the table. Bonnie has evil intentions here.

DICK WUZZY: I wonder what Bonnie has in mind here......

She grabs a chair and climbs on to of some storage boxes. With a brief pause, she jumps, driving the chair down towards Rhys but.......

Rhys moves.

Bonnie's head bounces off the chair, and she falls off the table. Rhys is stumbling away, trying to shake off the beating.

TONY BOLOGNA: Rhys is trying to get away here, to escape the onslaught but this is their chance to really turn the tide! Get back there and fight!

DICK WUZZY: Don't listen to Tony, Rhys! Save your ass!

Bonnie isn't down long and is soon giving chase, bouncing Rhys's head off everything they come in contact with. They are in the concourse area now. Rhys, trying to get away, rakes the eyes. Bonnie backs off and Rhys, again out of desperation, throws her head first into the popcorn machine.

Rhys this time decides to stay on offense, picking her up and kneeing her hard in the gut. Rhys tosses her the other direction, over the merch table as fans scramble and merch flies everywhere. The hat rack falls on top of her.

Rhys goes to leap over the table and out of the blue, Bonnie nails him across the head with the credit card swiper. Rhys wobbles and Bonnie catches him.

Forever Night!!!!!!! (Styles Clash)

THROUGH THE MERCH TABLE!

Blue covers.

1

2

3.

Winner: Bonnie Blue by Pinfall.

TONY BOLOGNA: Bonnie Blue is victorious here and impressive! She’s got a mean streak, for sure and her career going for----what the hell?

Bonnie gets up out of the rubble of the merch table and a well manicured hand with lime green nails reaches onto the screen, helping her up.

The camera pans to Savage General Manager Lindy LeVeaux.

She has on a tight white suit coat and skirt, with lime green heels. Lindy has an envelope in her hand.

LE VEAUX: Impressive. It's a new era in wrestling and its about time women get the respect they deserve around here. In this envelope is a contract for you to appear exclusively on my show, Savage. I'll give you a week. Think about it. Until then.....Chicago is a beautiful city.....enjoy the Veaux!

She walks off camera leaving Bonnie holding the envelope, looking shocked.

Jon Taffer and SHain are walking around inside the arena and Taffer is flailing his arms everywhere and screaming at the top of his lungs. An old grandmother walking slowly with a cane stops right next to him, pulls down her mask, and takes a drink right in front of him out of her XWF logo collector’s cup. Taffers nose hairs flair up and he gets red in the face. He knocks the soda out of her hands and then flings the mask up over her so that it’s covering her again and punches her directly in the face. He begins screaming at SHain at the top of his lungs.

JON TAFFER: "When I see idiots I get angry! Why the hell don’t you have a mask mandate in here??"

He shouts as some small kid walks by him with his nose hanging over his ‘Duke Nation’ mask. He stops the kid from running closer to Thad’s trailer and adjusts his mask so that it is once again covering his nose and the small teen takes off running again.

SHain: "Well, I didn’t think it was necessary seeing as my entire head is actually just a decaying old fiendish crack wench."

JON TAFFER: "YOU’LL KILL SOMEBODY, SHain!?"

Taffer retorts quickly and loudly before SHain can complete his sentence. Another kid walks by with his mask on correctly and Taffer stops this kid again like the first, and begins fastening another mask around his earlobes over the top of his original perfectly correct mask he was already wearing.

JON TAFFER: "You see SHain, an owner is NEVER OFF THE CLOCK!"

The scene fades as Taffer puts his hand around SHain’s shoulder but backs away quickly when HOGM spins her head around to look at him like a demon possessed.

(and now this intermission)

(back to our show)

Nothing goes better with a violent wrestling show than an ice cold alcoholic beverage. That's why Jon Taffer pulled out all the stops to make sure the fans in attendance got their money's worth at the concession stands by creating a mobile bar for XWF. This state of the art bar is built into a 20 foot travel trailer with local beers on tap. But even with 6 of the best female mixologists in the world, the bar is slammed tonight with eager wrestling fans. Taffer might need to invest in a second trailer! Taffer slides his way into the camera shot to give us his reaction to the situation.

JON TAFFER: "I have to admit, I wasn't anticipating this kind of a crowd tonight. This is a next level stress test that I'm not sure is even passable but we’re doing our best. These XWF00 fans are a bunch of drunks and I love it! I'm gonna have to employ at least 3 more trailers in order for this to work-"

Jon is cut off when he hears an entire tray of shot glasses ordered by the Chicago Blackhawks hit the floor followed by a commotion. Jon’s head perks up like a dog that just heard an ant take a piss in his territory.

JON TAFFER: "Excuse me I need to go investigate this."

Jon walks up the steps into his sacred bar trailer to find Maddy, Sebastian Duke, and Thaddeus Duke wreaking havoc on the bar. Maddy has a pint glass in front of him and is dumping a bottle of vodka into it as though he were filling up a 10 gallon aquarium.

Maddy: "Little bit of this, little bit of that... Hey pass me the orange juice, woman!"

Maddy smacks one of the bartenders on the ass after issuing his command. Meanwhile, Duke and Thaddeus are deepthroating the bar taps. The bartender brings Maddy his orange juice and he pours it into the overflowing pint glass of vodka.

BARTENDER LACY: "Maddy, you shouldn't over pour-"

Maddy grabs the bartender by her face and pushes her away.

Maddy: "This is how I like my mixed drink!"

Maddy proceeds to drink the entire pint which looks to be filled with 95% vodka and 5% orange juice. Jon Taffer approaches Maddy as Thaddeus and Sebastian run away in fear. Partender (Jon’s bar inventory management system) must be exploding right now.

JON TAFFER: "What are you doing Maddy?"

Maddy: "Wha? does it look like? Shit, man shit… It looks like I'm not in condition to complete tonight, Jon! You’re fucking bar imbjured Maddys! Me, Maddys, I’m Maddys...!"

JON TAFFER: "What?"

Maddy: "I CAN’T COMPETE! You heard me... I'm injured! Look at me dude."

JON TAFFER: "Sounds like an excuse Maddy. I'm not going to accept that. You have a match up next. SO YOU GET YOUR ASS OUT THERE AND WORK OR I’LL SEND YOU YOUR LAST PAYCHECK IN THE MAIL!"

Maddy: "This is not how to treat an employee-"

JON TAFFER: "Yeah? Well, I saw the surveillance footage of you parked outside of my office with a loaded gun! Sure, you backed out in the end and we never saw a third promo, thank God, but the intent was there. SO MOVE YOUR ASS!"

Maddy: "Ok stop yelling, Jesus fucking Christ. Just let me get my ring gear on... Asshole."

Maddy walks away from the bar area and strips down to his boxers and sneakers as he approaches the entryway. "Too Drunk To Fuck" by Dead Kennedys begins to play as he stumbles through the curtain.

"Too Drunk To Fuck" continutes to play as Maddy walks out in his white boxers, black tennishoes, and a leg holster containing his pink glock. He slides into the center of the ring and fires 4 shots in rapid succession into the ceiling of the arena before entering the giant cooler.

Oliver Last [v] Morbid Angel [v] Maddy (Triple Threat GIANT Cooler Match; Leftover Blow Job ppv Refrigerator)

The size of this "cooler" is unlike anything anyone had imagined. Picture a walk-in freezer, then picture it on steroids, then picture its offspring after it mates with a multi level underground garage. It’s BIG.

Morbid Angel and Maddy have been waiting inside the giant cooler for some time now. They’re awaiting the arrival of the third man in this match, Oliver Last.

DICK WUZZY: Well as least LAST is living up to his name right out the gate here, eh?

Dick stands up and starts to yell in an ignorant manner as if calling out to Oliver Last.

DICK WUZZY: YEAH WE GET IT BUDDY! YOU’RE LAST! NOW GET THE FUCK OUT HERE!

Dick sits back down and his broadcast partner is clearly annoyed.

TONY BOLOGNA: You’re embarrassing me out here, Dick.

DICK WUZZY: Eat my ass, bro. Seriously just get down there and get in there if you’re gonna be that way with me.

It seems like Dick and Tony has a long time to sit and banter back and forth, while Morbid Angel and Maddy along with special “cooler referee" Cocksac Dickberg are all starting to freeze in that cooler!

Maddy: Is this asshole showing up or what?

While they’re waiting, Morbid Angel finds out a secret about this referee… he finds out that our very own Mr. Cocksac Dickberg is a jew!

Morbid Angel: (pointing!) FUCKING JEW!!

TONY BOLOGNA: Morbid with the accusational point of death toward Cocksac Dickberg.

DICK WUZZY: But how da fuck did he know our boy Cocksac was a Jew?

TONY BOLOGNA: He’s Morbid Angel, Dick. He can sniff them out a mile away.

Morbid Angel has taken to attacking this unsuspecting official with a meat clever that was dangling from above his head along with several other weapons. Lots of random danging weapons all over this cooler, some of them swaying and swinging in the gusts of wind coming from that large fan blowing some extra freezing air into the cooler just to make sure nobody gets too hot in there.

TONY BOLOGNA: Welp, there goes THAT referee.

DICK WUZZY: Ugh oh my GOD why the fuck is Morbid chopping dude’s junk off?!?!?

Morbid takes Cocksac Dickberg’s detached penis and pockets it for later.

TONY BOLOGNA: He’s the dick collector, Dick! Probably going to add that one to his necklace later!

Just before things start to get too disgusting, the cameras pull away and catch none other than Oliver Last making his way down toward the cooler area! It takes him a few seconds, but he soon realizes exactly what he just walked in on. Blood is gushing from that referee’s groin area as he’s taken away by medical professionals at an urgent pace.

Maddy runs up and kicks Oliver right in the nuts before he has a chance to do anything.

Maddy: Nice of you to show up. What were you doing? Having sex with Duke in the back?

Maddy shades his eyes as he peers to the distant skies, or ceilings, or top of this cooler. He’s looking for something…?

DICK WUZZY: Da fuck’s he looking for? Illuminatus 1 or some shit?

TONY BOLOGNA: Probably so, Dick.

CRACK! A giant block of ice just flew through the air and exploded on the back of Maddy’s head! Morbid Angel launches another and this one heads toward Oliver but just narrowly misses him. Morbid throws a can of beer at Oliver but it also misses. Morbid throws a can at Maddy who’s still down and writhing in pain; the beer hits Maddy! Morbid throws one at Oliver again… and misses again!

DICK WUZZY: Haha I guess Mr. Luck is in full effect tonight! I wonder if I could piss at him and I’d miss?

Oliver grabs a bag of ice and puts it to his groin, still feeling the effects of Maddy’s kick. Maddy who is near him and starting to recover, starts talking shit to him and mocking him.

TONY BOLOGNA: Maddy talking trash before he can even muster up the strength to stand up again. Might not be the smartest approach!

DICK WUZZY: Sometimes shit just has to be said, Tony. No matter the cost.

Maddy gets hit in the side of the face with a frozen sausage Morbid Angel launched at him but he shakes off the dizziness as best he can and keeps his focus on shit-talking at Oliver. Maddy pulls himself closer to Oliver just to get right in his ear and he starts asking him questions.

TONY BOLOGNA: Did he… wait… Did Maddy just ask Oliver if he sucked Duke’s pedodemic ridden dick???

DICK WUZZY: HAHAHAHHAHAAHA! Well we know that’s when Lane’s pussy ass would exit the chat! Oooooooooh!

TONY BOLOGNA: Yeah I guess being reminded about siding with a pedo will upset a person. I’d kill myself.

DICK WUZZY: Same here but not everyone has the dignity we do. Oh crap!

And that quickly the momentum has shifted as Oliver grabbed hold of Maddy and locked him in a tight headscissor. Oliver squeezes Maddy’s head between his legs as hard as he can until Morbid Angel runs in with a leftover frozen football from another match and SPIKES the damn thing right down into Maddy’s head!

Morbid Angel: TOUCH DOWN MOTHER FUCKERS!!!

DICK WUZZY: Haha oh my GOD man, Maddy’s gonna have severe brain damage before this match is even over.

The frozen football explodes and some of the shards of ice get into Oliver’s eyes, causing him to break his hold and release Maddy’s now limp-again carcass. Morbid Angel takes some of the broken ice football and jams chunks of it into Oliver’s face and rubs the broken ice in.

DICK WUZZY: Oliver Last getting his grill iced! But not with diamonds!

Morbid Angel kicks Oliver in the face a couple times, then backs up a few feet to get a running start and tries to kick Oliver’s head clean off his body but he misses! Oliver rolled out of the way at the very last nanosecond as Morbid’s foot went high in the air and he ended up slipping on some ice and sliding right into a pile of dead monkey carcasses in the corner of the cooler. Morbid gets buried in frozen carcasses while Oliver tries to regain his senses. Maddy is also starting to stir, slowly pushing himself up from the frozen floor that has blood and piss all over it.

Maddy pulls his pretty pink glock from his waist and just starts popping off rounds at Oliver like it’s no big deal.

TONY BOLOGNA: Holy crap! Maddy’s going to kill someone!

DICK WUZZY: Eh, I don’t really think he gives two shits, Bologna.

Oliver Last once again proves to be the luckiest man of the night as he seems to dance between and dodge a flurry of bullets like he was in that movie the Gaytrix. Click click click! Oliver closes in fast on Maddy who has run out of bullets! BAM!

TONY BOLOGNA: Headbutt!

The glock goes flying out of Maddy’s hand after being headbutted by Last, but Maddy is quick to draw a second glock! Also pink…?

DICK WUZZY: Ha! Well I’ll be a porch monkey’s uncle. He’s got TWO big ones!

Maddy aims right at Oliver’s face.

Maddy: Alright nigger get on the fucking ground.

Maddy takes Oliver’s head and forces him face first to the ground while holding the barrel of the glock to his head.

Maddy: Now stay there you faggot and pretend you’re waiting to have your asshole examined for queer herpes.

Maddy is about ready to shove a frozen pitchfork up Oliver’s asshole when…

BOOM!!! Morbid Angel just drove a frozen golf cart into Maddy!!! Oliver Last springs into action and leaps into the frozen air, landing on the back of the golf cart and climbing in to surprise Morbid Angel with a tight sleeper hold. It takes effect fast but the cart’s still moving.

DICK WUZZY: Morbid’s asleep at the wheel! Quick, someone inject him to wake him up!

Morbid drives the golf cart right into a thick pipe that’s standing in the middle of the cooler.

TONY BOLOGNA: Oh no that’s the scat stack!

DICK WUZZY: The what?

TONY BOLOGNA: Uhhhh, whatever you call the pipe that takes all the shit water from all the toilets in the whole place and sends it down into the sewers below?

DICK WUZZY: And it passes through the middle of the fucking cooler????

TONY BOLOGNA: Yeah I don’t know I’m not a plumber, but that pipe just sprung a shit leak!!!

Sure enough, there was now a shit water explosion in the cooler. Morbid Angel’s golf cart begins floating away after merely a few seconds as the cooler fills up rapidly. Maddy swims around the corner of the cooler and looks for something to take advantage of this situation with and he finds a rack of frozen ribs that have mold and shit growing all over them. He takes the slab of ribs and here comes Morbid Angel floating along just in time to get cracked in the skull with the ribs!

Oliver Last has also taken to rummaging around in the farthest reaches of this cooler and it looks like he’s found something quite interesting……….

A bag of frozen shit-filled condoms.

Oliver stares at the weapon and thinks about it. It doesn’t take him long to decide to use it! He runs along a floating slab of drift wood and swings the bag of frozen shit condoms like it’s nunchucks, leaping high into the air and coming right down with a thunderous crack on Morbid Angel’s head!

Then Maddy swings his frozen ribs at Last but misses! (luck again?) The ribs go flying! And then BOOM! Oliver caught Maddy with the largest of the shit condoms after the bag broke!

DICK WUZZY: I like this guy! He says he’s not afraid to use anything as a weapon and he means it! Come on, Oliver! Shove it up one of their asses for Daddy Dicky over here!

TONY BOLOGNA: What the hell did I sign up for?

Oliver beats the shit condom into Maddy’s head a couple times but there’s a problem…

TONY BOLOGNA: That shit pipe has still been unloading shit water into the cooler this whole time and it keeps filling up! I don’t remember anyone closing a door when they came in but these guys are going to drown in a minute if that shit water keeps rushing into the cooler at such an alarming rate.

DICK WUZZY: Don’t worry, I got this.

Dick gets up from his seat at commentary.

TONY BOLOGNA: What are you going to do? We don’t even know where this weird ass "cooler" is. That’s why we’ve been watching on the monitors this entire time.

Dick sits back down.

DICK WUZZY: Well shit, you’re right. Eh, oh well. Somebody’s gonna be sleepin’ with the fishes tonight I guess.

Sure enough, a frozen fish swims past Maddy who quickly grabs it and slaps the shit out of Oliver’s face with it, and I mean SLAPS THE SHIT out of his face. Hard. Brutally. There’s blood and there are scrapes from the fish’s fins and shit.

Meanwhile, Morbid Angel has discovered the lever to pull to release the gallons and gallons of now slushy shit water from the cooler and straight into a busy freeway, causing a 35 car pileup.

DICK WUZZY: He’s a hero! Fuck yeah VICTORY FOREVER!

Morbid Angel grabs a frozen dinosaur skull, weighing about 75 pounds, and he launches it across the cooler!

TONY BOLOGNA: Incoming!!!

The skull misses Mr. Luck, but shatters, and a large shard lands right in the hands of Maddy. He wastes no time just rushing up behind Oliver and shank shank shank! He jabs the tip of that skull fragment into Oliver’s shoulder so fast his hand is a blur, but here comes Morbid Angel! Double clothesline to Maddy and Oliver! Oliver’s bleeding from his shoulder and Maddy’s laying next to him just jamming his foot into Oliver’s crotch even though they’re both down and Morbid’s standing over them. Maddy looks up at Morbid and gives him the finger in defiance, turning his attention back to Oliver and jamming his thumbs in his eyes while verbally berating him with some of the worst accusations imaginable....

DICK WUZZY: Hold up… wait bruh… Did Maddy just accuse Oliver of being someone Duke would find attractive? His insults are getting weirder, but damn if they ain’t also hitting harder.

Morbid Angel breaks it up by grabbing both of their throats and pulling them up, then delivering a massive double chokeslam! He covers them BOTH!

…?

…?

TONY BOLOGNA: Oh yeah, a new referee never showed up to replace Cocksac Dickberg after Morbid Angel ripped his reproductive organ off.

DICK WUZZY: Heh, so in the process of ripping another guy’s dick off, he kinda screwed himself here.

Morbid Angel slaps his own hand down on the icy floor that also has piss and shit on it. SLAP SLAP SLAP!

Morbid Angel: Three mother fucker! That’s it!!! Someone call this shit!!!

Morbid is throwing boxes of frozen clams around and kicking out windows. He yells out one of the broken windows.

Morbid Angel: SOMEONE GET IN THIS FUCKING COOLER AND COUNT THIS SHIT!!!!

From the distance a referee can be seen! He’s got no name tag and no facial features, so he must be an emergency stand in! Which also means he’s disposable, just in case.

Meanwhile behind Morbid, we see Maddy pull Oliver Last up and kick him in the balls again.

DICK WUZZY: Ouch! Dude’s nuts are DONE bruh.

Maddy shoves Oliver back, runs up as he stumbles, and nails the UGLY ELBOW! Morbid Angel runs at Maddy but Maddy sidesteps him and sends him flying into a stack of frozen Playboys!

TONY BOLOGNA: Who the heck left those in there?

Maddy goes to cover Oliver but the referee runs in and breaks it up…? Maddy grabs the referee and looks ready to rip his fucking throat out but the ref quickly explains…

Referee: It’s a blowjob cooler match! We’re already in a giant freezer but you have to stuff somebody into that refrigerator over there and shut the door!

Morbid Angel catches Maddy from behind with a dropkick that sends him face first into a hanging horse carcass. Morbid grabs Oliver Last and slams him into the refrigerator! He’s about to close the door to the fridge and lock Last inside but… it won’t budge! it’s stuck! It’s frozen open!

DICK WUZZY: Morbid needs to think fast on this one! Come on Morbid, you got this brotha! Think outside the shitbox!

Morbid seems to have an idea! He reaches over to the corner of this big ass walk in super size freezer and it turns out he had a small satchel waiting there.

He reaches in……….

and produces……………..

TONY BOLOGNA: Is that a syringe?

DICK WUZZY: Steroid needle! Yes! Do it! YES YES YES!!!

Morbid looks back at the cooler, knowing he needs the strength of all the gods to shut it. He knows exactly where he needs to inject that needle…

DICK WUZZY: Pull your dick out! Do it! Fuck the censors!

Morbid reaches into his sexy tights and produces his big ass fuckin DICK! Many of the fans are like "daaaamn" when they see how hung our boy is.

Morbid has the needle prepped and ready to inject himself with the roids!!!

The needle closes in…

closes in…

closes in…

and finally……….

STAB!!!!

DICK WUZZY: Oh no! Dickterception!

TONY BOLOGNA: Maddy no! No!

And before anyone knew it, Maddy had somehow gotten HIS OWN dick inbetween the steroid needle and Morbid’s own massive, throbbing, girthy, veiny, pulsating love muscle!

Maddy falls to the floor screaming in pain as he tries to remove the syringe but it’s too late! It’s all injected!

Maddy: AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH! FUUUUUUCKNIGGERSPICFAGGOTCOONPEDOOOOO!

Maddy balls up his fists and his cheeks fill up. He’s ready to blow.

He lets out THE absolute loudest…

Longest…

Highest pitched of all time…

"CROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOA-"

"TOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!"

Oliver is still in the fridge and all that’s needed for a win is for somebody to shut the door on him! Maddy is freaking the FUCK out and looking about ready to mutate here at any moment. His eyes are bugging out and twitching like mad. He grabs Morbid and irish whips him so hard that he goes running out of the view of the camera as Maddy quickly turns around and lets out a primal scream, pumping his fists while Morbid Angel’s roids pump through his veins and Maddy SHUTS THE LID!

DICK WUZZY: Holy shit! It’s over!

Maddy starts beating the shit out of the fridge Oliver is locked in, and actually starts denting and mangling it up pretty bad until some people finally come over and get him to stop. Morbid is rushing back to the scene too now and is being held back by officials as he tries to get at both Maddy and Oliver.

Winner by dickterception roid rage: Maddy

While everyone is coming back into their seats to get ready for the big main event, SHain is seen standing in front of a bathroom mirror staring deeply into HOGM’s missing eye sockets. His usual ritual before he goes to battle as he walks his way back towards the bathroom stalls and picks the one in the very back and enters, closing the door behind him. He gets down on his knees in front of the toilet and does the dirty deed of dipping his disgusting hands directly into the bowl. He grabs little army guys that are smeared in a disgusting brown liquid and begins playing with them on top of the bowl. A smile comes across his face and HOGM clacks her teeth and hisses when suddenly the bathroom stall door comes flying off its hinges.

JON TAFFER: “What the hell is this! What am I seeing here!?!? UGHH!!!! THAT’S DISGUSTING!!"

Taffer lifts up his giant leg and with his black alligator dress shoes starts stomping on top of the little shit soldiers!

JON TAFFER: “You see how serious I’m willing to take this! To dirty my 800 dollar shoes like this and help you turn this ship around! I’m here and I’m ready to FIGHT FOR YOUR BUSINESS!"

SHain starts stumbling when he tries to get to his feet.

JON TAFFER: “How drunk are you right now! You’ve got to pull yourself together here SHain and go out there and deliver for all these XWF fans again! I’ve got the will and the determination to turn this place around SHain, but do you??? I’m going to ask you one last time SHain…. Do you want to run a wrestling federation, or do you want to play in your little scat box all day every day!"

SHain: …

TUNE IN NEXT EPISODE TO FIND OUT SHAIN’S ANSWER!!!!!

The camera pans closely into SHain’s face who has both a literal and figurative shit eating grin right on it. And then as the shot fades back in it goes directly into the center of the ring as we prepare for tonight's main event!

The Prophet(c) [v] SHain [v] 'Radical' Gabe Reno

(Xtreme Frenzy Championship Match; Barbed Wire Ring Ropes)

Cheeto Brice shotguns a beer and nails a grandma in the front row with the empty container.

CHEETO: "RING THE DAMN BELL, COTTON!"

TONY BOLOGNA: "Well, with that our main event is underway!"

DICK WUZZY: "What'd you think of that pre-game showing by our senior official Cheeto Brice, Taffer?"

JON TAFFER: "I can't just stand by and watch that happen! He hit that audience member with a beer can! There's beer soaked into the ring apron that was supplied to us by our friends at East Coast Chair and Barstool! This man is a lawsuit waiting to happen! I'VE GOTTA GO IN THERE!"

Taffer flips over the announce desk and walks over the wreckage up to the ring where all four occupants are taken aback by the irate GM’s main event rescue.

JON TAFFER: "Cheeto Brice, you smell like a distillery! You're in no condition to officiate! I'M TAKING OVER!"

Taffer strips Cheeto of his zebra shirt and puts it on himself. Cheeto hangs his head and exits the ring as Taffer kicks the bottom rope and scolds him on the way out.

TONY BOLOGNA: "Holy cow! Taffer just ejected Cheeto and made himself the official of this main event!"

DICK WUZZY: "As a responsible fed owner should do Tony. Cheeto was a liability and he'll be begging for his job after the show is over. Don't get me wrong, I'm excited as hell for this main event but you don't see me doing ass shots off of strippers out here!"

TONY BOLOGNA: "Be that as it may, me and Dick will remain here at the booth for you folks at home. We now have our second start of the match with GM Jon Taffer as our referee."

SHain wastes no time with his lethal offense of uncoordinated whirlwind kicks. Surely he'll hit something if he just flails his drumsticks in the vicinity of his opponents. PROPHET and Reno maintain a safe distance as though SHain were a walking/spinning coronavirus. 50 seconds pass and SHain is still going with his whirlwind kicks after not landing a single hit. He seems to have not depleted any energy in the process which is astounding. Paul Heyman encourages him from ringside.

HEYMAN: "You're doing great head master! You almost got Reno with that last one! Stay aggressive!

Reno decides he's seen enough and puts a bullseye on SHain's chest for a running drop kick that sends him tumbling through the barbed wire. SHain lucks out with only a small laceration on his bicep

Reno goes to lock up with PROPHET but eats a headbutt instead. There's too much riding on this first main event, no one expected a squeaky clean fight. PROPHET continues to target the head region with some vicious uppercuts keeping Reno at bay in the corner. He delivers a final, exclamation point of a Tiger Uppercut that would send Sagat back to the Muay Thai dojo. Reno is now slouched in the corner seeing stars.

But wait... The Head of the Table has reemerged and he doesn't look thrilled after having his typhoon of kicks downgraded to a light drizzle from earlier. He suspects that PROPHET might have been responsible and marches in his direction with his hideous head that's been attracting more flies as the match progresses. Not for long though because SHain is suddenly confronted by a group of robed disciples summoned by PROPHET. The group stands between PROPHET and SHain in a line formation across the ring. SHain warriors up, shaking his balled fists, stomping both feet on the mat, and spinning in circles. THE SHIT STORM HAS RETURNED MORE POWERFUL THAN BEFORE!

SHain launches a barrage of freakishly uncoordinated spinning kicks, taking down each disciple one by one. We come to find out that these disciples are nothing more than cannon fodder sent to serve as a distraction by PROPHET. The bodies of the 9 disciples go flying in every direction as SHain pierces through PROPHET’S human shield like a possessed javelin!

PROPHET begins to backpedal as he sees SHain vanquishing his militia with minimal effort. He gets a friendly tap on his shoulder, turns around and is holy blessed by a pele kick to the cranium! Reno makes the first pin attempt. There’s a mountain of disciple bodies forming a barrier between Reno pinning PROPHET, and SHain.

1!

2! SHain dives over the pile of disciples and disrupts the pin.

TONY BOLOGNA: "We knew this would get chaotic, Taffer has his work cut out for him tonight."

DICK WUZZY: "Who's gonna clear the ring of all this human debris? I guess you might call this a stress test of our cleaning crew!"

A cavalry of 4 more disciples run in to save their leader.

This time it's Reno who disposes of them in a more calculated manner than his opponent. Discus clotheslines for the first two, clothesline shimmy off the top rope for the third, and an Ups-y-Daze-y to the 4th cult goon into the barbed wire. While Reno was disposing of the reinforcements, it allowed the first group disciples to recover and pull PROPHET to safety, leaving Reno with the sadistic head of the table SHain. SHain steps up to Reno but he’s not alone because he's wielding a severed head! DICK WUZZY: "It's a fresh one, Tony! He must have stopped by Garfield Park on the way over."

TONY BOLOGNA: (gagging) "No shit, I can smell it from here…"

DICK WUZZY: "Look at how proud Taffer is to see SHain handling that raw meat with proper gloves!"

Shain throws the head up and spikes it into the nuts of Reno. Radical falls on his ass and looks down to find the head is chomping down on his crotch like a turbo charged chattering teeth toy! With Reno's attention diverted to the situation on his scrotum SHain is able to charge up and knock out Reno with a superman punch.

TONY BOLOGNA: "SHain has made his statement loud and clear as he overtakes ‘barbed wire hill’ with a cloud of scat hovering above him."

DICK WUZZY: “Shut up Tony."

PROPHET sends in a disciple in the ring who eats a superman punch from for a midnight SHain snack.

PROPHET sends in two more disciples but one gets a rotting SHain headbutt and the other is flap jacked throat first onto the barbed wire! Blood sprays from the disciple’s throat and into the eyes of PROPHET as his other disciples try to shield him from the carnage.

But wait-- PROPHET made the mistake of keeping Reno in his blindspot, as well as being taken aback by the gory spectacle in front of him. Radical runs up from behind and dropkicks him chest first into the barbed wire rope!

We’re now getting a glimpse into Reno’s sinister side as he rakes both of SHain’s arms across the barbed wire, leaving behind chunks of flesh. Most people would shred their opponent’s heads over that barbed wire but SHain’s Gilmour head has the resiliency of a thousand samoan heads. After Reno’s finished giving SHain his crimson sleeves, he tosses him over the top rope where PROPHET and his pack of bloodthirsty disciples are ready to attack. The group huddles around SHain and takes turns stomping at him.

Reno lets them beat down SHain for a good minute before he dives to the outside with a Reno Splash onto PROPHET and the disciples. Reno keeps the momentum going as he realizes he’ll need to bring in the equalizer sooner rather than later. He goes under the ring to retrieve the Scat Spear of HOGM that he spent two weeks whittling away to perfection. Reno hops onto the ring siding with the spear in hand and jousts through 6 of the men, creating a disciple shish kabob for mama Gilmour to feast on later. PROPHET cowers behind the remainder of his disciples, realizing that now half of his congregation is on their way to the eternal kingdom.

Now with a clearer picture of how weak these PROPHET lackeys are, Reno is now approaching the group with hellfire in his eyeballs. The leftover disciples take turns charging at Reno but he swats them away with an all you can eat buffet of super kicks and forearms, leaving behind nothing but scraps. PROPHET trips himself trying to backpedal from Reno and starts to scoot on his ass to get away from the Radical one. SHain shows up right behind him and now he’s trapped between Reno and SHain! But wait a minute!

TONY BOLOGNA: "Another man has cleared the barrier and he’s massive!"

The large 250 pound muscle bound freak Pearl Harbors Reno from behind with a lariat!

(Papa Gilmour)

DICK WUZZY: "You know who that is, Tony?! IT’S PAPA GILMOUR! MY GOD!"

TONY BOLOGNA: "WHAT?!"

DICK WUZZY: "THAT my friend is the answer to lifting this dreaded HOGM curse!"

Papa Gilmour picks up PROPHET by his armpits like a child and sits him down on the side of the ring. He then projects through SHain with a spear like a super dick sized artillery shell! Papa picks up what’s left of SHain and his mutilated head and arms. He lifts him up vertically and drops him on the thin padding with a Dickhammer! Guest referee Jon Taffer is blowing a gasket over Papa’s arrival and squeezes the barbs on the wire ropes with his bare hands.

TONY BOLOGNA: "Jon Taffer wants to shut it down but he can’t due to the violent nature of this match!"

DICK WUZZY: "Sure he can Tony, but he won’t. That wouldn’t be a proper solution!"

Papa Gilmour throws SHain into the ring. The disciples that Reno kicked and forearmed earlier have managed to crawl over and hold him down on the outside. Prophet scurries to make the cover on SHain, while Papa Gilmour sits on his back, all 250 lbs + another 25 pounds with the superdick weighing down on SHain like a hyrodaulic press!

1

2

3!

Winner and still 24/7 Frenzy Champion: The PROPHET!

Suddenly the arena lights go red and "Betrayal of the Mind" by The Raven Age blares out of the P.A System.

DICK WUZZY: Oh shit that’s Scully’s theme!

After about 25 seconds (When the vocals start) The Scull Meister steps out on to stage. He looks around at the XWF Galaxy in attendance and smirks.

TONY BOLOGNA: He’s got the shot next Frenzy at that man’s title!

The PROFIT! is in the ring and being presented his championship by the ref as Scully remains on the stage and holds his hands in the air, then does his “look at me" taunt.

DICK WUZZY: Oh you better believe he’s watching you, Scully!

The PROFIT! has indeed locked his eyes on what he no doubt knows to be his next challenger.

TONY BOLOGNA: We’re out of time, folks! Holy shit!