XWF∞

A wrestler, who had won imperishable fame in the Xtreme Wrestling Federation was confronted by a gaunt stranger, clad all in black and wearing an impenetrable mask. 

"Who are you that you dare to block my way?" demanded the wrestler.

Then the stranger drew aside his mask, and the wrestler knew that he was Death. 

"Have you come for me?" asked the bewildered wrestler. "If so, I will not go with you; so go your way alone." 

But Death held out his bony hand and beckoned to the threatened wrestler. 

"No," cried the muscular man, resolutely; "My time has not come. See, here are the histories I am making--no hands, body and soul but mine can finish them--I will not go till they are done!" 

"I have ridden by your side day and night," said Death; "I have hovered, watching you drink yourself silly, but no sight of me could chill your heart till now, and now I hold you in my power. Come!" 

"No!" refused the wrestler.

"SCULLY! You belong to me!" Death exclaimed.

The face of Scully has now been revealed and with these words Death seized upon Skull and strove to bear 

him hence, but Scully struggled so desperately that he prevailed 

against Death, and the strange phantom departed alone. Then when he had gone Scully found upon his throat the imprint of Death's cruel 

fingers--so fierce had been the struggle. And nothing could wash away the marks--nay, not all the skill in the world could wash them away, for they were disease, lingering, agonizing, fatal disease. But with quiet valor Scully returned to his histories, and for many days thereafter he toiled upon them as the last and best work of his noble life. 

"How pale and thin Scully is getting," said the fans. 

"His hair is whitening and his eyes are weary. He should not have undertaken the 

histories--the wrestling industry is killing him or is it the alcohol he consumed? This is not the Scully we once knew?!"

They did not know of his struggle with Death, nor had they seen the 

marks upon the Scully's throat. But the physicians who came to him, and 

saw the marks of Death's cruel fingers, shook their heads and said Scully could not live to complete the work upon which his whole heart was set. And Scully knew it, too, and many a time he paused in his writing and laid his pen aside and bowed his head upon his hands and 

strove for consolation in the thought of the great fame he had already 

won. But there was no consolation in all this. So when Death came a 

second time he found Scully looking weak and trembling and emaciated. 

"It would be vain of you to struggle with me now," said Death. "My poison 

is in your veins, and, see, my dew is on your brow. But you are a brave 

man, and I will not bear you with me till you have asked one favor, which 

I will grant." 

"Give me an hour to ask the favor," said Scully. "There are so many 

things--my histories and all--give me an hour that I may decide what I 

shall ask." 

And as Death tarried, Skull communed with himself. Before he closed his eyes forever, what boon should he ask of Death? And Scully's thoughts sped back over the years, and his whole life came to 

him like a lightning flash--the companionship and smiles of The Union, the glories of his XWF Universal Championship victory over Vinnie Lane, the honors of Tag-Team gold with three different partners, the joys of conquering the XWF Xtreme Champion, Michael McBride and taking the title for his own. The din of battle, the sweets of a family life, the gentle devotion of his now ex fiancee and the face of his little boy, Aston, there his thoughts lingered and clung. 

"Time to complete our work--our legacy--our histories," counselled 

Ambition. "Ask Death for time to do this and be the father my son craves. I am not going nowhere! This is the crowning act of our great life." 

Scully struggled to his feet and stretched forth his hands and called to 

Death; and, hearing him calling, Death came and stood before him. 

"I have made my choice," said Scully

"A title reign?" asked Death, with a scornful smile.

"NO! Well maybe… I have so much more to give. I fought you off before and I somehow escaped. I became sick from the alcohol but I grew strong. I am determined to be there for Aston. My son. I am not ready to leave him. I am ready to build a greater legacy in the NEW XWF. XWF Forever! I ask for a longer life?"

Death couldn't believe his misty eyes. He thought this alcoholic human being was about to surrender his life and ask for something small. But instead Scully asked for something more.

"I did grant you one favour. One last wish. I suppose I have to stick to my word. But if I come for you again, you have no choice but to come with me!" Death huffed.

Scully took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a brief moment with relief, just to take it all in. He opened his eyes and a mirror stood in front him. Death had disappeared just like that but left a message, written on the mirror with the condensation;

"XWF FOREVER! SCULLY FOREVER!"

Skull watched as the condensation disappeared and his reflection change. Suddenly a fog of smoke appeared in front of Scully and Death's face replaced Scully's. 

Death began laughing, "I've changed my mind! Death waits for no man!"

Skull took a deep breath, he asked Death "Is this the end? I thought you granted me that one favour? You know the one where I stay alive?"

Death replied bluntly, "You've got to come with me!"

Scully closed his eyes…

Death laughed again, "One day … I was just messing with ya! Gotcha! I was never taking you away.. This was merely a warning to you, if you take life for granted, you no longer deserve to live!.You should think before you drink!

Peter Gilmour is more likely to die before you!"

Death vanished once again and Scully no longer looked sickly and pasty, his facial features were healthy again. His body had transformed into it's muscular self. Scully promised to never take death in vain!

.........

"Here is a little rap for all Peter Gilmours loving fans, all twelve of them.

Once upon a time, there lived a bitch called Gilly, 

He told people to suck his dick, it is rather silly. 

I mean how can anyone suck such a tiny willy?!

He calls himself a God, the God of Xtreme?

Reality is, Gilmour is weak, soft like Ice Cream, 

He's in his mid forties and still having wet dreams.

Peter had 200 title shots and only prevailed once, 

He stares at little boys, with his hand down his y-fronts,

Get him on the register, he's definitely a nonce.

Peter Gilmour absolutely loves Vinnie Lane,

Gilmour adores him, the man has no brain,

He doesn't know the difference between the sun & the rain.

Peter Gilmour, you better listen fully,

You're an massive idiot, if you think you'll beat Scully!"