XWF∞

The truck pulled up to the old abandoned warehouse on the wrong side of town. The engine idled, then cut. The doors flung open and the cool winter air roared in like Pickett's Fucking Charge. 

Immediately, a stench filled the air. 

"Smells like shit" said Bryce Kensington, Chris's former mentor and fighting coach. 

"Nothing is worse than the shit I just dealt with for four fucking years. Onward, comrade!"

The older man lit a cigarette as they walked towards the old warehouse. This is where he was told to come to sign his contract. Weird. He was told there was a surprise waiting for him, something to motivate him, to prop him up, to give him hope after four years of ass fucking with no lubrication. 

He could only imagine what SHain and Taffer had up their collective sleeves.

As he got closer to the building, the smell intensified. He pulled open the giant wooden doors, making the entire building creak. The door handles were brass, and they replicated shit-filled condom's that had become so popular in XWF lore. The first photo on the wall on the inside was of SCATBEAR. 

Oh, the memories. 

He pressed forward, gaining distance between himself and the elderly man he brought along with him for charity. It was dark, dingy, and septic inside, the floor sloshing below him as he walked. Did he dare look?

Chaos was a few steps ahead of Bryce, the old man tired from his accelerated age and decades of smoking. 

--He just wasn't what he used to be, but then again, none of us are--

"Bryce", his voice bellows in the hollowed out factory, bouncing off the walls like cannon shots. 

"BRYCE!"

Coughing, and wheezing to catch his breath, the old man did his best to answer. 

"Fuckin' what, Chris? And could ya walk a little slower." 

The FORMER Universal Champion (and lets be real here, in a real federation he would have been multiple time, but incompetence runs rampant in the XWF these days), stopped to let his former boxing coach and mentor catch up. 

When he finally does, Chris's voice is as straight as a flatline. 

"It's shit, Bruce." 

The old man waved it off, coughing a little, some blood going into his handkerchief. 

"I know its tough to adapt to a new place, Chris. All the memories you left behind, all the hard work you put in over the years. But this is a fresh start, a new beginning. None of the old bullcrap they pulled over there----" 

"No Bruce, it's actual shit." 

He turns the light on, and the fluorescents crackle and pop as each one turns on in succession. The place that SHain had sent them to. Apparently, this was the place that they were supposed to meet up to discuss the terms of a new contract for the legend. Apparently, SHain has a shitty sense of humor. 

Pun 100 percent intended. 

Chris's voice was rising now. 

"I am sure there is a reason for it, an explanation. I mean, we knew he was obsessed with scat, we knew...."

Chris put his hand up. There was a folded piece of paper on the floor. 

Walking over, doing his best to avoid the piles of shit scattered everywhere, he bent down and picked up the note. 

Before opening it he surveyed the landscape before him. An entire warehouse, 20 thousand square feet, and the entire floor was covered, wall to wall, in human excrement. 

"This is insane. The crazy bastard did it, he actually did it. He always said he was going to turn XWF headquarters into shit.....and, well, holy shit."

Bruce seemed disgusted by the entire thing. 

"We should go. Sure, the other place is going to jerk you around, disrespect you, hire a referee that stalked your personal life, put you in matches with pre destined outcomes that favor their sick desires, and defend a pedophile, but at least they have some class. When you signed that contract, they at least had a nice waiting room....the rack on that receptionist....."

Chris opened the piece of paper. 

A small grin crossed his lips.

"Scully.....Gilmour....these are OLD XWF guys. Back when XWF was good. Back when XWF had talent. Back when they didn't try to censor everyone like the goddamn Chinese Communist media. Frenzy. Savage. John Taffer......" 

His eyes scanned the page. The smell in the warehouse was overwhelming. 

Chris didn't seem to notice. He had put up with shit twice as potent for nearly 5 years. 

"Gabe Reno. Jesus Christ that dude is everywhere. Just open a fed, somewhere, on planet earth that isn't controlled by some long haired limpwrist with a god complex, and Gabe Reno will be there." 

He continues to scroll, his eyes scanning the note, which was written in brown sharpie. Fitting. 

"Morbid. Never got a chance to beat him. First time for everything. Maddy is here. Yippee fucking doo. As if there wasn't enough asshole in SHain's life...." 

But somehow, he continued to smile. 

"Oliver Last.....I remember that name. I remember he kinda sucked, probably still does. I beat him, but a down syndrome chimp could beat him. Nice to see familiar names though. Familiar victims." 

He gets to the bottom of the page. 

"Bonnie Blue. Who da fuck? Chariti. I mean, white trash way to spell it. I bet she's hot. Kieran Overton, Isabella Ravenwolf.....isn't that the bitch that ate a baby and nobody blinked and eye? HOLY SHIT--pun intended--DREZDIN IS HERE." 

His grin was wide now, extra toothy.

Pearly whites. 

Chris flipped the note over.......in scat, of course, was written the words as if they were some sort of fucked up finger painting.....

"JOKES ON YOU. XWF IS FOREVER"

He drops the note on the floor again and looks at the football field worth of shit around him. A total fecal mine field. 

"Jokes on me, I guess. Fuckin' Shane.' ."

"SHain, you crazy son of a bitch. You actually fucking did it. You actually started a company much like your old company, where your members can be themselves, have fun and be successful without being held down by backstage politics and playground favoritism. This isn't picking teams for dodgeball, this is wrestling. We should treat it as such. That being said, do you really know who you're stepping into the ring with? Sure, they held me down at every turn, sure they knocked my confident around like a Senator's wife when the breakfast was cold.....but I am still one of the best to ever do this. SHain please realize what you are walking into here. The best Universal Champion the XWF ever had and you WANT to book yourself against him?"

Chris scratches his sexy goatee. 

"John Taffer says this is a stress test. Stressful for who? A drunk owner obsessed with scat whose only pressure is scribble a couple lines on the accounts payable tab every month, or the stress on me, a man who comes deep into enemy lines to square off against the one man who gave me a chance when nobody else would? SHain, I stepped into XWF in 2016 and you instantly had my back. You pushed me to the moon. You saw what I could do. When you left......goddamnit man....when you left the place just wasn't the same. You can't say anything anymore because god forbid some liberal jerkoff is going to get offended and run to Lane. Then we need some intervention about how words are bad. Cookie trays and tea cups. Hand holding. "Okay guys...I know the bad man said some bad words and that is totally not okay but if you wanna fuck your baby brother in the ass, that's acceptable. Totally rad, dude!" Shane, the place is a total casserole of nonsense. Now I come here for a visit, just to see what this lime green shindig is all about, and suddenly I have a match. Against YOU. SHain, I think you're in over your head here. I am the best in the world at what I do and you're the best in the world at what you do......winning titles, kicking ass and being the baddest dude on the planet......and complaining about blown out assholes and how many black people it took to get the corner store shut down. We are the best of both worlds....

.....but what good will you be in the hospital SHain? What good will you to be to any of us here. We need you as our fearless leader, not some lame lome on life support like 99 is. So SHain, my reccomendation ol' buddy, ol' pal, is not even to show up to the stress test. Stay home, sleep in. John Taffer and I will handle business, he will raise my hand, and life will go on as planned. Stay home, write scat potery and scat fanfiction, drink your life away and watch your old fed crumble under their own careless misdoings but please SHain, do not show up to Frenzy. It won't end well. For anyone." 

Chaos looks right into the camera, an intense look in his eye. 

"This match SHain, it doesn't have to happen. I am going to be Frenzy Champion, I am going to win every title in this place, and I am going to rub it in the faces of those degenerates who held me down for so long when Chris Chaos is once again the top name in wrestling! Funny how it works out huh? When you owned that bubbling pool of herpes juice I was the top name in wrestling, and now, at your hands, I get to do it again. The band is back together, and Chris Chaos is actually motivated again. 

To some, this is a good day but to everyone else.......

Prepare everyone, prepare world, prepare XWF00, just like SHain Carver's drunk retarded potato prolapsing ass is prepared......to be Equalized."

-- Edited by Chris Chaos on Thursday 18th of February 2021 10:33:49 PM

-- Edited by Chris Chaos on Thursday 18th of February 2021 10:34:21 PM

-- Edited by Chris Chaos on Thursday 18th of February 2021 10:36:12 PM

-- Edited by Chris Chaos on Thursday 18th of February 2021 10:36:40 PM

-- Edited by Chris Chaos on Thursday 18th of February 2021 10:38:28 PM

-- Edited by Chris Chaos on Thursday 18th of February 2021 10:40:07 PM