XWF∞

And I saw him…  And I prayed for him...  But I knew deep within both the endless bounds of love from the bottom of my heart and the far barren recesses of my mind that he was now dead!  He was drifting away in an imaginary intermingling span of stars and galaxies in the world of creation that I once bore as he fed off the nipple of my knowledge.  He was my creation, and so it was within my own nature that when I sensed any detection of minor weakness that I must destroy him.  The past is exactly what it always has been, a glimpse into what the future will someday bring.  Seek out the knowledge and memories of your own past and it is obvious that you know who I am…  

You have always known me, as I have haunted the halls of the XWF for decades and have always been the one pulling the pathetic little strings that have made Shane Carver’s cycle of madness exist.  You all know ME!...  for I am the PROPHET!... and I am the purveyor of purpose in this XWF sanitarium of insanity!  This world is mine, and it always has been and forever will be, no matter where the scat sandbox or center of the ring may be!  I have come to spread the word of the good LORD!... and to bring my ultimate consolidation of power to the forefront of the universe once again.  Let us all fall to our knees and praise my fantastic triumph once again.  Hail be to The PROPHET!  The future and the true existence of the XWF has always been buried in the deep recesses of this Mind of Mine!  

A still shot of a single strain of grass shivering in the heavy wind as it holds on dearly by its roots to the ground beaten and bestowed beneath it is seen quivering and holding onto its last will to live.  It is then lifted from the ground and goes off flying in the distance. Shot from its last trembling grasp of life like a bullet from a gun off into the midnight sky.  Over the far distant horizon, a white church of elaborate distinct religious design gives off the only source of light to be seen as far as the eyes could see over the rolling hills and valleys far off in the distance. 

The scene begins to move towards the church, slowly as if starting at a walking pace and gathering in strength and intensity as the scene makes its way closer and closer upon the church.  Approaching it slowly, a very macabre and melodramatic version of Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” begins to play ominously in the background.  The soothing and melodic tune by Beethoven is a delightful sound to anyone’s soul and comforts the mind as the music waves tickle the hairs on the inside of one's ear. 

These two doors now spring open from their hinges and reveal the inside of the church which is in complete contrast to the area outside.  A giant sun, far off in the sky inside the church floats above an endless sky as if one has just entered a completely different universe that was in a different time or date from the scenery of the dark outside we were just a part of.  

A brightness, so glaring and intense from above where a ceiling should exist, but in fact does not, and a sky of endless blue like a never-ending ocean stretching far above what the eyes can see.  A patron of self-deprecating disgust is seen in the back of the church pounding away on the keys of a grand black piano.  A very portly fellow, with only a few strands of long stringy and oily hair dangling from off only three areas of his head, is slowly strumming the keys of the piano as the offbeat nature of the song flows with his lumbering body from side to side as his ass cheeks swayed from left to right in his chair. 

His smile is nothing but a twisted perk at the edges of his lips and when it grows in size it reveals a filthy disgusting mouth rotten mouth full of yellow and black teeth and a snarl at the end of his lip with beads of sweat dripping off the edges as his tongue as it laps out the side of his left lip like a retarded dog or perhaps imagining the tongue activity of John Wayne Gacy watching a Croaton promo. 

He is barefoot with his long witchy toenails hanging off his cracked and blood stained edges of his feet and gliding back and forth up and down on a pedal that bellows the deep notes emancipating from inside the piano. He drives an odd familiarity to Quasimodo or perhaps Peter Pettigrew with a much more carnal twinge to the fear that fogs one's mind when staring deep into his eyes and revealing the evil beneath his soul.  It forces one's eyes to look away...

The scene pans to another area at the front of the room and raising up from behind a podium with a stiff back and his feet locked completely outward; as if Nosferatu rising from his coffin, a young man with dark black flowing hair just past his ears and eyes blacker than the emptiness of night raises his arms to a crowd of suddenly full seats of church pews and a full crowd of people that have miraculously appeared as soon as he has risen.  

Clapping and cheering at a more than alarming rate and veracity than anyone could have expected.  The black-robed figure at the front of the room behind the podium takes a bow to the crowd, which only invigorates and draws them further into the sermon and intensity of their clapping.  The man reaches behind his back and unwraps a priest's collar and then wraps it around his neck.  The entire room comes to complete silence as he raises his hand and closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly before he begins to speak and we become completely enamored, mesmerized, and even hypnotized by the sermon of our purveyor of purpose known as The PROPHET!”

“AMEN!”

The crowd retorts loudly the same phrase and quickly as if prepared for this initial word being at the forefront of the sermon.  

“We once were lost, my loyal slaves, but now we are found!  For you see, our great GOD! Has taken our lives and we have been reborn!  Reincarnated in a world where the cosmic subtleties of the superior are shadowed and mimicked in their illustrious existences in the past. Soak in that sweet subtle air as it fills your body and rejuvenates your lungs and spirit deep within the very center of your soul.  I am a man of much-needed purpose and I must speak as we spread the gospel of the good LORD!... out amongst the universe for the entirety of all and so that everyone can now see ME!   For you see, the purpose of The Prophecy is to annihilate any remnants of revenge in our past, and to crush any opposition to our good purpose.”  

The dark-robed demonstrator walks across the room towards what we can only assume is a servant of his.  A man dressed completely in white drapes with gold trim like a roman senate member hands him a glass of wine.  It’s a distinctly long stem with an enormous bowl for holding the wine seems a bit over the top, but nonetheless the PROPHET!... accepts the wine and brings it with him over to a chair in the middle of the room.  As soon as he sits, the massive congregation standing in front of him sits in their church pews as well at exactly the same time as him.  

“The Prophecy has been made aware that a one, SHain KarvHOGMblow is gallivanting around this place disgracing the good name of a Christian saint known as MaMa Gilmour!  Does he dare to wear THE MASK on his face and hide behind showing that salacious and sinister scat stained brain and disgusting looking face of his?  For the look of shame and sadness of his sell-out nature is far more disgusting than the face of HOGM that he has now proclaimed as his own  Calling himself a ‘blown brain cell’ would be an understatement at this point!  For you see…”

He pauses here to take a small sip of his wine and lick his lips afterward.

“I let my disciples do the dirty work in the ring for me, and in my next match in XWF I use that term lightly as my two opponents can certainly only be described as complete scum!  Some say that makes me a coward, but a mastermind wins his battles when he destroys someone from the inside and lets his mindless minions break the bones of his enemies on the outside.”

He puts two fingers in the wine and starts dabbing it all over his neck and painting the red wine across his chest as if he were preparing to give a Mel Gibson “Braveheart-Esque” speech.  

“The man hiding behind Peter Gilmour’s mother’s face is nothing but the shell of a selfish scat-hoarding son of a bitch that wants to live in the shadow of his own subconscious failure!  He’s a fucking sellout, and the thought of that wandering in the back recesses of his mind forever is the weakness that I have come to exploit  What have you done to tarnish your own good name, SHain?  Why have you let these weak-minded fools walk all over you for so long and take what was rightfully yours?!  I would be ashamed to show my true face as well, and would hide behind that old wench for the rest of my life! I stole this Frenzy title off of him as easy as they stole his precious from right under his nose while he was asleep at the wheel! ”

The PROPHET! Seems to be getting very upset and starts splattering wine out amongst the crowd as his arms outstretched and get more animated when he speaks.  The slaves fight and claw over the top of one another to try and lap up the small drops of wine that have fallen to the floor like a pack of wild hyenas leaping on top of a rotting corpse.

“He has been spending his time weighing condoms filled with scat along with Jon Taffer to see if partender can verify that Frodo or maddy are not stealing away his shit!  The PROPHET! Is here to set your head back on straight.  Your real head, not the one you stole from Peter’s mother.  But the one that keeps you from admitting what is the truth and always has been.  That I am the purveyor of purpose here in the XWF, and it never has and never will be you!”  

The PROPHET!  Now slams his wine glass on the floor, shattering it to pieces on the ground below.  He then picks up the chair he was sitting on and chucks it at the giant glass stained window painted with the image of mother Mary, but with Peter Gilmour’s mother’s beautiful face on it instead.  She looks more innocent, kind, and gentle than mother fucking Mother Theresa!

“My hand has been directing Shain’s cock in the direction of who he should be fucking and giving that giant purple-headed monster of his that extra shove to make sure it gets up in there nice and deep inside some pink little pansies booty hole!  Gabe Reno seems to me as a man who also looks deeply at his past and is haunted by his demons that existed there so much that it consumes his every waking thought and how he conducts himself in every aspect of his life.  

The past is dead, and the longer he doesn’t accept and move on past the demons that exist there, the more I will drink his fears and dump them all over my slaves and the rest of the XWF world to lap up like a cocker spaniel locked up in a hot car for days!  It’s almost as if his stepfather isn’t the only thing that has both bruised and beaten to a bloody pulp his backside with his belt.  But it is also his ego as well that hath taken a major hit!  Fear is my guiding focus with this fucking fruit cake, and I will exploit it in that ring and finish what his stepfather started.

Every time I look at him directing his hands in the air like some kind of drunk fuck boi at the club in his Affliction t-shirt and sporadically waving his open mouth around with his ‘O Face’ out I get the fucking shakes just thinking about wrestling with this guy.  It’s almost as if he’s ready to take a huge load to his face, larger and more disgusting and disturbing than a young girl in a Croaton promo!  

Is that what’s supposed to be so ‘radical’ about him?  That he’s willing to throw his hands about aimlessly in the air with no care and open his mouth wide enough like some kind of monkey ready to deepthroat a banana?  If that’s the case, then we better go get fucking Donkey Kong from the latest $2 gay porno shoot he’s in and get him in a straight jacket and write him a ticket for passing over the allowed ‘radical’ speed limit. Gabe Reno calls everything that he does a radicality, but I think when I take a good look at him like this that it might actually be retardation!”

A black cat begins to scamper across the stage and as this happens, the deranged looking piano player starts to play a new tune that resembles a very well known Cypress Hill rap song.  Interesting choice on a piano??  The deranged preacher’s eyes fixate and turn a very deep shade of red almost as if a fire was burning deep inside them as he glares down menacingly at the cat crossing the stage accidentally and interrupting his sermon.  

“FOR YOU SEE, MY FORMER FRIENDS AND COMRADES FROM A LOST LAND OF MY PAST….

HERE

IS SOMETHING

YOU 

CAN’T

UNDERSTA-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-ND!

He then reaches down to pick up the cat right by his feet and shoves his entire fist up it’s ass!!!  Blood and cat feces and organs begin slithering down his hand and dripping off the edge of his elbow!  Gore and puss slime down the sides of his arm and down his entire right side of his body.  He shoves his hand so far down the cats asshole and starts manipulating his hands so that it’s now becomes the cat’s mouth and he can make a sock puppet out of the poor dead feline he just violated….

 “HOW I CAN JUST……… 

RAPE A CAT!!!!!"

He says with the cat face up close to his own and then french kissing it before making his next statement.  

"PUSSIES!!  MINDLESS DRONES WITHOUT A BACKBONE!! ALL OF YOU!! THERE IS NO XWF LEGEND OF THE PAST, PRESENT, OR FUTURE THAT WOULD DARE STEP FOOT IN MY HOME TURF AND CHALLENGE ME FOR MY CROWN OF COCKS AND SCAT STAINED SUPER LEGACY!  THEY CAN HIDE IN THEIR CRADLE OF PROTECTION AS THEIR INFANT INNOCENT LITTLE ASSHOLES ARE RAPED RELENTLESSLY AND STAY IN THEIR LANE AND DO AS THEY ARE TOLD!   FOR THEIR BABYSITTER IS DRESSED IN HIS PINK TUTU AND READY TO GIVE THEM ALL THEIR BALLET LESSON.   AND THEY CAN KEEP DANCING FOR THEIR DOLLARS AND GIVING UP ALL THEIR GOODIES AND STRIP AWAY THEIR INNOCENCE AT THE PRYCE THAT THEY PAY TO GIVE UP THE DIGNITY OF FREEDOM THAT THEY ALL ONCE CHERISHED!  

FAGGOTS!  NIGGERS!  ALL OF THEM!  THERE ISN’T A DOCTOR, OR AN ENGINEER, OR EVEN A MOTHER FUCKING DUKE THAT WOULD DARE STEP FOOT IN MY DOMAIN.  BECAUSE THEY KNOW THEY HAVE ALREADY SOLD OUT THEIR DIGNITY AND RESPECT TO THE DANCING PINK CLOWN THAT HAS TURNED THEM ALL INTO A SAD CASE OF SOLDIERS MARCHING AWAY AT THE PINK PIED PIPER. LEADING THEM DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE INTO OBSCURITY. SO THAT HE CAN DIDDLE AND TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THEM LIKE THEY WERE CHILDREN IN A CROATON PROMO!"

He lets out a huge sigh as his eyes calm down and turn back to their dark black hue they were original.  From outside the church, a familiar face turns around the corner.

Peter F’n Gilmour:  “What the fuck is all this?  Am I late for the party?”

The PROPHET!:  “Of course not, now, let us bid our slaves adieu and go find your father!?”

The cat rapist waves his hand over the crowd and they disappear instantaneously.

Peter F’n Gilmour:  “Why is it so important that we find my father again?”

The PROPHET!:  “What’s the one thing we can shove down HOGM’s throat and get her to shut the fuck up for good?  What’s the one thing she’s choked on for years and is so massive in it’s girth and size that it can not be contained or measured without using a football field for reference?”

Peter F’n Gilmour:  “I’m not going to say it.”

The PROPHET!:  “Say it damnit!”

Peter F’n Gilmour:  “No, fuck you!”

The PROPHET!:  “Say it!”

Peter F’n Gilmour:  “Fine, the Dick Of Gilmour’s Father!”  

THE PROPHET!:  “Otherwise known as DOGF!  Twice the size of your own super dick through the brilliant process known as genetics.”

The scene ends with our two heroes wrapping their arms over the other's shoulders as if they were close pals reunited once again and leaving the church to search for Peter’s long lost father.  Stay tuned as the sermon continues in part two.