XWF∞

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A Radical Production

 Frenzy is about being more than Xtreme. Who wants it? Which competitor will forge something worth having? It's a place to prevail on a virtual proving ground of the have's and have not's. Holy in the blood, sweat, and tears it takes to become what you will be, and divine in how it molds individuals through their own work ethics. Hollowed ground is the mat upon which these lessons are learned, and triumphs equally experienced.

I love places like that. They're where I feel at home. Welcomed with a mat that I recognize in the face of a daily world that I don't. Not every place is warm and cozy. Some places are actually demeaning. They drain your energy, and not just through being unfamiliar, but in every strand of life being made impossible, worthless, or hardly livable at all. I hate places like that, they just feel so... wrong. But the world is a delicate balance of both. Ying's and yang's working in harmony to provide do's and don't's. A lot like... me and Maddy. Vastly different sides of the same fed. One manically obsessed with winning at any cost. The other is... cute, kinda. Clear divides exist in our tactics, personalities, and most importantly... results.

I am a sustained excellent foe for decades in a game that needs an evolving Enigma to force change into new modern avenues of wrestling excellence. And, Madison's avenue is... well, Maddy.

That really says it all, doesn't it?

♫ There's a place you can go where all people know about the Avenue, even you. You can fling poo at your next Frenzy opponent too, it's fun for me and you. The Avenue. You can look at the card and pretend it's not that hard, try to formulate a plan before you go full retard. You can, boo! The Avenue. Just look at the people who still point and laugh, you've been a joke for longer than SHain's refused a bath; but just remember there's a place you can go... Mad-i-son Avenue! With all the homeless views! Mad-i-son Avenue! It's pathetic just like you! Mad-i-son Avenue! You're gonna be smeared all over it nooo-ooooooooww! Mad-iissss-onnnn Avennn-uuueeee... ♫

This is what happens when you lose. You get booked against the next lowest hanging fruit.

John Madison, what is this 2009? Shouldn't he be doing infomercials about the Beach Boys Greatest Hits?

Instead, therrreeee he isssss... standing in my way. Fans call these "dream matches," but I refer to them as just snacks.

Hey, Maddy... your era ended about ten years ago, pal. Get back on the unemployment line with the rest of the XWF rejects and psychopaths.

You've made being a total dick a trademark in XWF, Maddy. New aspiring jackasses look to you as the example of who they want to become in life. Does that make you feel accomplished, big guy? Do you like being a beacon of how to take shortcuts, be a gesture, and have everyone laugh at you? The type of attention I strive for comes from holding up titles under bright lights. Yours is in making sure everyone forgets you just as quickly as you came. I am about true legacy. You are about avoiding that, because you can't be taken seriously. You're the guy who asks why he never succeeds when the only person in his own way is himself. You look back as people like me look forward. I have a future that you can never be. A world at my fingertips if I decide to just reach out and take it. You're too busy with your hands down you pants, and you don't have to reach nearly as far... then it's over, in just a few seconds, what are you up to now, six, seven? Jerking off is all you do, why aren't you at least good at it, Maddy?

Seven seconds or less isn't just the motto at Maddy's drive-thru life, it's also how long he will last in this match... if he's lucky. Another "Legend" back to take another regrettable fall. You guys just can't help it can you? Reliving that XWF glory through what's left of Carver's glory hole. Can't say I'm surprised. Why not ruin your own legacy by staying way too long when your talent has long since gone? Why be smart, when you can be... Maddy? John Madison was something to behold. A true icon that made the next generation of wrestlers want to find new ways to become Xtreme. Now look at him. Unshaven. Dirty. His mouth goes on and on a lot like his denial. The party ended years ago. You haven't been "that guy" since before anyone knew what to call "him." You won't be now, either. Just another rehash in Carver's world of misfit toys. Lost in the darkness reaching for mommy, but finding something far more treacherous in her place... me. My darkness doesn't require a search party, Maddy. I know exactly where it is, and what's contained... a small square box of broken, mashed, compacted blood, bone, and flesh. A tribute, a symbol, a keepsake of what I do to people like you. The Enigma will destroy all of you, all that surrounds you. Pulling you in an instant like a tornado into this vicious spiral. Gravity refusing to let you back down, or back out. Putting you sad fucks down doesn't seem to be enough. Legendary? That doesn't mean unbeatable. Rather, that you made a contribution over time that was recognized and worth noting. You know what else was worth noting gin XWF history, Maddy? You're looking at him. It's time for my Legend to eclipse yours in an everlasting strike. The poison will do the rest. Because that's what I am. Deadly. Bring your crocs- so I can show everyone else that now, that's all you have left, and all you are... a giant croc of shit.

Gabe Reno's eyes tell a story of passionate torment; bloodshot veins, running to aggravated pupils, to a stem of infuriating indifference. Reflecting off a rearview mirror, driving through the desert oasis of Nevada. His 65' Mustang leaves a spinning dust trail. The shot zooms out as the car becomes smaller and smaller against the vast desolate landscape of Route 66 between Barstow, CA and Las Vegas, NV. The small dot is the only thing moving on the screen against a still backdrop, other than a few tumbleweeds in the foreground. Turning onto a road with an old rusted gate half open, with warning signs dangling from a twisted wire fence. Gabe drives through carefully, then proceeds up and over a ridge as the camera follows behind. Through a dirt hill tunnel and out the other side, into a base of some kind... Army? Marines? He pulls up to the entrance booth, calls the attendant a bitch, then gets waved through. The Mustang passes into an elongated entrance of a round peculiar driveway, the camera drops down behind as the license plate holder reads "bad motherfucker" on it. Moments later we see Gabe walking into an entrance door after parking his car. He goes through security clearance. They frisk him against a wall, slap him across the face, then follow with a variety of purple-nurples, titty-twisters, and ball-flicks to test his durability before allowing him full access. He finally passes, still recovering from the nipple play, being decompressed in a chamber for sanitization, then being put into a gray bland suit like the other workers in the area wear. A large refrigerator type door open from the inside of some sort of testing facility. Gabe walks through in his suit, breathing through a sheeted apparatus, as the tour begins...

"What is this place?"

His tour guide points at chambers ahead to the left, containing various developmental stages of growing embryos. Gabe slowly walks by reading the labels on the plagues above each one. "Infintitus," follow by "Laughy Taffy," then "Middling Madititus," just before "Full of Shititus," and finally "Total Dickwad."

"Oh my GOD! You're making... Maddys? Whaaat? Why the hell would you..?"

The guide takes a deep sigh. He proceeds to lead Gabe down a giant hall where pictures and video clips of a ravaged place take precedent. From pictures at the beginning of beautiful blue rings and delightful faces happy to be there, through a slow continuing transformation of expressionless faces, hateful tones, stupid rules, and idiotic reasoning. The steady decline brings back memories for Gabe who is taken back by the accuracy of the demonstrated madness inherited in the blood of the content. He stumbles back at the shear massive imprint, recollecting the degenerate madness he witnessed within its confines.

"It's... horrible. It was so beautiful... and then... then? What happened... is this... XWF?"

The guide nods, then hands Reno a stack of cards. He flips through them like playing cards, each with a contributing former XWF member on the face. Robbie Bourbon, Thaddeus Duke, Sabastian, Dolly, BWP, Engy, Lane, Theo, Tidbits, Ghost Tank, Geri, Doc, Nixon, Page, Green, Baphomet, Left Hand, Right hand, No hands... Gabe looks up at the guide confused. He hands him one last card that reads "joker" on the back. Gabe flips it over... John Madison. Reno ponders the meaning for a moment, then reflects back to the ravaged scenes and videos he stands between. He thinks back to the embryos...

"He is the Joker that completes the deck in XWF?"

The guide grins and nods, he taps the card with two fingers, pointing with his other hand toward the devastation around them. In the center of the room an automated platform drops down, a blonde wig over a steaming pile of shit is lowered as Gabe nearly pukes in his mask. He gathers, then steps toward what looks like a burnt out rock star with a literal shit eating grin.

"I think... I think I get it now... Lane's shit, an entire deck of rejects... could it be that without Maddys, XWF is just a bunch of clowns, bullies, and douchebags... that can't survive without a total dick like Maddy to keep people in line? He somehow is the pin that holds the entire thing together?"

A deep chuckle from the guide triggers Reno's understanding of the situation. The two share an endearing stare. The platform angles, as little runny shit strands bleed off the ramp onto the floor below, like always. The angle plops the blonde shit into an open hole below, the guide pulls a chain on the wall- causing a loud flushing sound. Gabe sighs in relief.

"We need Maddys to ensure the balance of power! So you're making more to make sure divas never take another XWF enterprise... it's... brilliant! We can make XWF truly like forever if we embrace the truth, and flush all of the shit!"

Walking over to a scale on a presentation table, the guide points at poo on one side of the teeter totter, and a miniature Maddy on the other; he flicks the pendulum, as it comes back to even keeled upon balancing.

"This is incredible. But... who are you guys, why do you care so much about XWF's future, past, and present? You chuckled as if you had deep comprehension of the on goings? You must have been victimized by all the shit? What happened to you, why are you in the middle of the desert doing this? How did you get here? I have so many questions for you!"

The guide retreats a bit, shying into a corner after being probed about their identity. Yet, resolve reigns in the common experience they share. The guide relents, realizing it is best for them both to work together.

"Heyyy, no it's okay, I can be a friend... who are you? Why are you doing this? I am not like them, I mean yes, I am an asshole, but not the shitty kind..."

After playing coy, the guide lifts his face shield. Reno's eyes widen with complete surprise. He now understands why he received the invitation, and who it was from.

"It... can't... be? But this doesn't make sense... YOU!? HOW CAN IT BE..!? HOWWWWWW!?"

They look back at Gabe, teary eyed, as all the emotions hit at once.

"Just talk to me. It's okay, you're safe now..."

( ... To Be Continued ... )

How about that? So Carver did know what he was doing when he picked up the phone and summoned John Madison to XWF Forever. I guess it makes sense, we all have our own abilities to contribute to the bottom line. The deck of cards for this XWF is still being printed on a press somewhere in Shane's basement. Let's hope our layout looks a lot better than the shuffle that destroyed the previous one. Last time, there were days I felt like the joker, even though my accomplishments made me a King. But now I know the truth... the joker was always you, Maddy. Now, I can take my rightful place upon the thrown of XWF00. I can let the people working to ensure the balance stay satisfied, with the on goings here under my reign. They can focus on making more Maddy's to keep shit copasetic.

Meanwhile, the only true Radical will do what he always does; stir the fucking pot. Still, I'm impressed...

Madison. Wow, you really help the XWF ecosystem stay in its place. As do I. If only someone had the balls to clone me. Hey, one is enough.

But I won't do it by being a joker, I'll do it by dominating jokers like you. While your role is one of poking and making sure people don't overstep their bounds, mine is to be the fearful story of what can happen if they stroll too far from their own role. I am the night to their day. An endless essence seeping into every mistake. Smoking it, tenderizing it, then eating it with some potatoes and a glass of bloody red coolaid. I don't judge what you do here, Maddy, but this time you're the one who has strolled too far out of your lane.

And much like Lane, I'm going to have to flush you,

before you get shit all over the fucking place.