XWF∞

(INTRO)


“Some said the thunder called the lurking fear out of its habitation, while others said the thunder was its voice.” HP Lovecraft

A shadow of darkness hovers over the heads of all those unsuspecting comedians who take the never ending presence of fear for granted as it orbits their thoughts and lurks in their conscious minds continuously until the end of time. They said we were a joke, and they tossed us aside as such in their back and forth banter of such a conspicuous nature that it was obvious that the contradictory nature of their true identities were now revealed. The fear, constantly lurking over their shoulder was now a resounding force no longer simply gnawing at their heels, but rather, taking a deep and heavy bite at the front of their neck as if it were Dracula himself. The fervish followers of the cult leaders began to second guess the power and presence of this pathetic principle those leaders were pushing to prescribe complete control over their once mindless peons.

Now those peons are awakened by a stroke of exuberating euphoria, by the light of the morning star plummeting from the heavens in the sky above to the plains on the horizon they stare at endlessly in a trance of tremendous trepidation. A deviation from their norm, that intrigued and enlightened them at the same time as they now became aware of a different path of enlightenment than the one programmed to them by their dictators. An indifferent indentation interjected in their normal routine, and it is one of such a unique and open-minded nature which draws attention away from the methodical and mesmerizing illusion created to keep them mundane. Imagination is a beautiful thing if you allow it to flourish and to find the depths and lengths of infinite realms far beyond the normal processes of the mind. Nothing can stop the creativity of an overactive imagination, as it constantly competes to capitulate it’s previous creation and to reach the maximum bounds at the end of a black hole of endless existence.

What the leaders of this cult of prosaic prose were not aware of, was that those who opposed them were driven by the will to survive and will not go gently into that good night as those leaders so desperately wished they would and be destroyed. In a world where abolishing the abyssal plain of abnormality is becoming the norm, and where conformity to their communist like community is becoming a beckoning call to the bastards within their group who feel that those that are strange, peculiar, and bizarre are beneath them. They chuckle and mock the odd group of characters sitting outside their circle, as they sit comfortably in their warm and secure safe space around the campfire of complete allegiance to their own allegory. But outside this circle of protective light is a conglomeration of shadows deep in the woods who lurk over their shoulders as an unsuspecting fear that they pretend to ignore, but inevitably refuse to do so by many examples of their actions of their own.

They go around the campfire telling ghost stories of these evil demons and terrorists in their own subconscious thoughts, and try to create a fantasy of their own nightmares that they know are looming in the shadows of the forest surrounding them. Fear is the strongest emotion felt by anyone and everyone, and that is why the stories rendered from the tales of terror are constantly revisited. Why wouldn’t someone simply ignore the lurking fear and watch it disappear from memory? The answer is simple and it is because they can not help themselves, because in the back of their minds they know what’s out there haunting them is actually a real subjectification of an existential threat foaming at the mouth to dethrone them… and that threat is hungry. Salivating as it sits back and simply waits patiently in the shadows.

Fear is the phantom hand on the back of the neck and the sound of a door opening downstairs when no one is coming home. Humor can be used as an attempt to alleviate this fear in the subconscious mind, but it also rears its ugly head every time you mention it regardless of its intended meaning. You can point and you can laugh, but you can never admit then that you don’t acknowledge that it slowly eats away slowly at the back of your mind. If the black hole of endless imagination has an ending, then it certainly won’t be WE who wish to seek it out. A creative universe that has an end is like an earth that is flat, eventually you sail off the edge and find yourself gone forever. As if put in a coma where merely the activity of the brain to keep it still alive is active, and all creative thought and imagination is wiped out completely. We will always continue to believe that a creative universe never has an ending, and that the world of imagination is indeed a spherical product of it’s overactive nature to re-trace its own steps and expand it’s realm the next time it walks over the footprints it left behind.

You can clamp down on the fringes of creativity for the weak minded who can’t stretch their imaginations past the circle of protection that their cult leaders brain washed them into believing. But you can never choke the will to live from those who wish to discover and explore beyond this wall of constriction. What happens when you cage up the creative flow of juices as they spread themselves across the paper as they paint a picture of imagination? Those wild animals who have the strongest will to survive will break free from their cages, and unleash their wrath upon those who kept them under wraps.

They believed that their principles were the popular and predominant amongst the herd of their headless hooligans who would do just about anything to appease the leaders as they passed down their dumbfounded decrees decimating their own freedom of thought and free will. But what they failed to realize for anyone who already has a creative mind wishes to explore and expand it beyond the realms of infinite imagination. Out in that distant realm we wander, searching ever so long in the shadows outside that tiny circle of light kept in a comfortable range just outside the campfire of their chaotic complete control of conformity which they insist upon. They say that we are despicable, dishonest, and deplorable in order to demonize us to keep their own egos in check. But it is in fact those very things in which they fear most tearing down their temples of religion like trepidation, because they know it is these very specific set of skills that created that tiny little circle which they control in the first place… and we are that LURKING FEAR waiting in the shadows outside their little circle.... waiting patiently for that campfire to flicker its final spark.



As the credits begin to flow from the previous television program of some shitty episode of The Bachelor that was playing just previously before Friday Night Frenzy comes on the air, we suddenly get an overshot of about fifty motorcycles lined up in front of the Chicago arena where the wrestling event was about to take place. A conglomeration of biker dudes and chics parking their bikes and then walking directly into the arena tossing their Bush Light beer cans littered on the ground, and spitting their Kodiak chaw chewing tobacco on the ground. All this while also trying to conceal the copious amounts of methamphetamine located underneath the seats of their Harley Davidson motorcycles by plopping their fat girlfriends asses right on top of the bikes seat.

Now you know the real reason why every biker dude has a fat disgusting girlfriend the size of an African elephant is to keep their stash super safe. Their fat disgusting bellies hanging out past their leather jackets and lumps of ass fat bulging out of their black leather chaps, with rolls of cellulite and disgusting cankles peeking over their black leather boots. Cigarette smoke pouring out both sides of their lips and slithering off the edges of their fingertips while they hold them between their pointer and index fingers of their hands daintily dancing the haze out into the air.

Just as the credits to that drama queen disaster waiting to happen reality television program comes to an end; as it’s normal audience is just starting to flip the channel as they are only addicted to the destruction of the lives of another human being, they may think twice about touching that dial as all of the sudden Jon Taffer comes around from a trash dumpster with Shain KarvHOGMblow in tow. They might find the insanity and drama that is about to unfold on Frenzy tonight may intrigue them more than they thought based on their television preference history.

The XWF general manager is seen screaming in the face of the XWF owner and scat enthusiast and dragging him by his shirt collar as they approach the line of motorcycles outside the arena in which Friday Night Frenzy was about to take place.

Jon Taffer: “How in the hell are we going to get women to watch this show after The Batchelor when we got fucking motorcycles sitting out in front of our arena. Did you know; SHain, that if you have more than three motorcycles parked outside your venue then you’re 77% less likely to get women to watch your show? Do you know anything about wrestling federation science at all??”

SHain: “I know that we got that Super Dick superstar Peter F’n Gilmour on our show, and that’s gotta be like 100% more likely that we have women watch the show.”

Jon Taffer does not look pleased with SHain’s answer, as his face gets bright red and his screaming and scolding continue to intensify in both delivery and intensity.

Jon Taffer: “WHAT THE FUCK HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT EXCUSES!!!”

Even HOGM is somewhat taken aback by the immense level of voracity in his voice as she cowers a bit in surprise of Jon’s boisterous commanding words.

SHain: “Not an excuse, not an excuse, just a minor suggestion…”

The Taffmeister interrupts with his veins popping out of his neck.



Jon Taffer: “WHAT EXACTLY HAVE YOUR SUGGESTIONS GOT YOU SO FAR? YOU’RE A TRILLION TONS OF EXCREMENT IN DEBT AND YOU RUN A WRESTLING FEDERATION THAT IS COMPLETELY IN THE TOILET!”

SHain: “Again, we’re going to have to quit talking in poop puns because I see what you’re trying to say, but yet, the federation of my dreams would in fact take place directly in a toilet.”

Jon Taffer: “SOUNDS LIKE ANOTHER EXCUSE TO ME, AND WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT EXCUSES?!?!”

Taffer gets that glare in his eye that sends a message that he may back hand SHain if he doesn’t answer quickly and correctly.

SHain: “Again? I feel like I answer this question every ten minutes when I’m with you.”

Taffer actually raises his hand up as if he is going to slap HOGM clean across her face!

Jon Taffer: “WHAT DO I SAY ABOUT EXCUSES!”

SHain: “You only embrace solutions…”

Jon Taffer: “YOU’RE GAWD DAMN FUCKIN’ RIGHT PAL!”

Taffer lowers his hand and the tone of his voice.

Jon Taffer: “So, what are we going to do about all these bikes?”

SHain: “I don’t know, what do you suggest?”

The Taffman chuckles a bit to himself and walks over towards the pile of bikes, and just like the fuckin’ Hulk he picks one of the largest motorcycles in the lot with only one hand and hurls it over his head and it explodes in a ball of gas and fire behind him. It looks like one member of the biker gang is not pleased as perhaps it was his bike that was tossed. He must not have noticed in what matter it was done by Taffer simply tossing it around like a Tonka truck toy in the sand box or he wouldn’t even think to stand toe to toe with the mother of all businessmen. The drunk biker dude reaches for a gun in his belt around his waist, but before he can he catches a bullet directly between his eyes as ‘quick draw’ McTafferson was first to fire his nine millimeter pistol so fast that it would put Han fucking Solo to shame.

More biker dudes saw what had just taken place and took off in a flurry of fear as they wouldn’t dare come near Jon Taffer after that display of power and authority. Nobody ever stands in his way! As the bikers scatter Taffer takes a look in the camera before the scene fades to our first match of the night.

Jon Taffer: “I told you all I’d be taking out the trash in this federation. Just like drezdin said, from the bottom to the top!”

SHain: “I think he said from the top to the bottom, actually!”

Taff-O-Mania bites his bottom lip and turns more red in the face then ever as the wrinkles on his forehead begin contorting together like mountains forming on the top of his head.

Jon Taffer: “EXCUSES!!!!!!!”

The camera fades into the ring where we prepare for our first match of the night!

Isabella Ravenwolf

vs

Oliver Last

vs

"Super" Scatbear

vs

Brian Storm

Maybe Match: Maybe these people will show up, maybe they won't. This is the wildcard of the ENTIRE show! The actual rules/falls/etc for this match will be determined the DAY OF the show for added suspense! AND THE WINNER EARNS A TITLE SHOT!!!



Tony Bologna: Maybe.

Dick Wuzzy: Maybe what?

Tony Bologna: Maybe Match!

Dick Wuzzy: Oooooooh, you got me!

Tony Bologna: That’s right it’s time for the first ever MAYBE MATCH! We threw some names together on a board and just said…

Dick Wuzzy: FUCK IT!

Tony Bologna: That’s right. And we figured whoever shows up, shows up!

Dick Wuzzy: I hope SHain starts booking randoms from outside of the federation next just to see if they come and drop some promo fire on our asses!

Tony Bologna: I hear there are a lot of people watching from the outside that might be waiting to jump at the chance, Dick!

DING DING DING…

All eyes focus on the XTron as we see an image of one of the participants for tonight…

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Dick Wuzzy: Oh shit who’s it going to be?

Tony Bologna: Somebody that wanted to say a few words BEFORE they come out here!

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…

…

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“Nom nom nom”

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Dick Wuzzy: HOLY SHITBALLS IT’S SUPER SCATBEAR!!!!!!!!!!

Tony Bologna: What the hell is he eating? I better take a picture of it and pretend it’s incriminating!

Dick Wuzzy: Da fuq are you talking about, dumb shit?

Tony Bologna: Nevermind! He’s about to speak!!



SUPER SCATBEAR: Hey there everybody! Merry X-mas! It’s time for the XWF to watch as the one and only SUPER SCATBEAR makes his grand X-debut in the ol’ squared circle. And do you know what that means? I said do you know what that means?

Dick Wuzzy: We obviously don’t dumb fuck.

Tony Bologna: Oh stop it! The man’s enjoying his debut moment.

SUPER SCATBEAR: I said do you know what that means?

Tony Bologna: Ok now it’s annoying.

And then the unthinkable happens………………………………

Super Scatbear stares into the camera and he does it…

…

…

…

…

He raises his left eyebrow...  REALLY high.

Dick Wuzzy: What the hell is this twat doing?

Tony Bologna: I think its… I think it’s…

SUPER SCATBEAR: (calmly and gently assuring us) You’re lookin’ at the scatbrow of wisdom, ladies and gentleshits...

Tony Bologna: I was close!

Dick Wuzzy: What did you think it was?

Tony Bologna: The way I look at someone when they say they support pedophilia but hate making fun of racists and homophobes!

Dick Wuzzy: Ha ha what?? The shit you come up with. You’ve got fuckin’ problems.

Just then, the XTron flickers and dies out. It’s as if the power of the people’s scatbrow blew the whole thing out!

Dick Wuzzy: Holy shit!

Tony Bologna: Technical difficulties for Super Scatbear. Hopefully he finds his way to the ring.

Dick Wuzzy: How do you know the match even takes place in the ring though? Its stipulation hasn’t even been announced yet!

Tony Bologna: And that’s half the fun of this match ladies and gentlemen! We’re about to find out right now just what our participants have signed up for!

There’s a dead silence for a while and eventually the XTron flickers back to life, this time showing us the lovely Liz Weinberg backstage! The participants for the match are all seen in the nearby area as well, waiting to hear the announcement. Isabella Ravenwolf, Oliver Last, Brian Storm, and Super Scatbear have all shown up for this one.

Liz Weinberg: We told you we’d announce the match type the night of the show and there was a lot of talk about it being an over the top rope battle royal but instead we’ve got something even better in store. There’s a reason you guys were asked to meet here backstage. Tonight this 4-way match will be a wild easter egg hunt but instead of eggs, you’ll be looking for…

Dick Wuzzy: Please be dildos please be dildos please be dildos.

Liz Weinberg: WEAPONS!

Dick Wuzzy: Aw dammit.

Liz Weinberg: But there’s a catch. You see in order for you guys to even touch an opponent, you need to be using a weapon on them. That’s right, lay hands on an opponent without using a weapon on them and you’re eliminated on the spot!

Tony Bologna: Who the heck came up with that?

Liz Weinberg: And in addition to that, in order to use a weapon it must be labeled as a weapon!

The camera backstage starts to focus on various objects in different areas and they have large sticky notes on them that say WEAPON on them.

Dick Wuzzy: Ha ha wow no wonder they don’t announce this shit in advance.

The contestants (at this point we have to call them that) all glance around and look at each other, nobody looking very pleased or confident about such an unusual situation.

Liz Weinberg: So to summarize, use weapons that are labeled as weapons. If you attack in any way without a weapon, you’re out. The winner is the last one standing, or the first one to earn a pinfall or submission anywhere in the arena! Oh yeah, and Brian Storm and Oliver Last aren’t allowed to team up. Brian said he’s going to be watching Oliver’s back but that’ll mean both of you are eliminated for it! We need a fair contest here!

Dick Wuzzy: Wow! Liz laying down the law!

Liz Weinberg: Good luck everyone! On your marks… get set… GO!

Liz claps twice, firmly. She darts out of there.

Dick Wuzzy: GO?!?!?!? What the…?

And the first thing we see is Super Scatbear rushing straight for Isabella Ravenwolf and he…

Dick Wuzzy: HOLY SHIT! HE JUST SPEARED HER THROUGH THE FUCKIN’ WALL!!!!!!!!!

An assload of debris comes tumbling down on the two as a referee starts waving it off and pointing at Super Scatbear.

Ref: You’rrrrre outta here!!!

Tony Bologna: Oof. Well I guess he wasn’t paying attention to the rules. You need to be using a weapon to lay hands on your opponent, pal!

Dick Wuzzy: Get this goof ahhh’da here!

ELIMINATED: Super Scatbear

The damage has been done as more and more wall, ceiling, and unidentified lab equipment fall on top of Isabella. Super Scatbear pulls her up and throws her at Oliver Last, who dodges just in time to allow her to sail through the air and into a cameraman.

More officials arrive to shove Super Scatbear out of the area as he smiles cockily and raises the scatbrow of wisdom. Brian Storm rushes over to Isabella and pins her.

...1



















...2







Shoulder up!

Brian brings his fist back and is about to lay into her when Oliver Last whacks Brian with a steel chair and knocks him away from Isabella!

Tony Bologna: Technically Oliver just saved Brian in this match. He would have been right out the door with Super Scatbear had he struck Isabella without a weapon!

Dick Wuzzy: How stupid. I’d hit her with my homemade eggplant parm and call it a day.

Tony Bologna: I have a weird feeling that means something else but OH MY GOD!

Just then we see Brian get his hands on one of the items labeled “weapon” and it’s a blow torch!

BLAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Flames go flying toward Oliver and Isabella!

Dick Wuzzy: Ol’ boy is pissed now!

Oliver manages to get behind a nearby dumpster while Isabella is able to crawl behind a locked chest. The flames are out of control as Brian starts screaming and shaking the nozzle of the flamethrower around everywhere!

Crack!

Oliver Last with a flying dropkick with his legs in a metal trash can that had a weapon label on it!

Dick Wuzzy: Oh clever. I could do that too though.

Tony Bologna: We’d allllll like to see it, Dick.

Last sends Brian flying back and the flamethrower slides across the floor. Isabella Ravenwolf is lurking around behind some equipment and she has found another WEAPON! It’s a……. Switchblade!!!

She eyes the blade closely and then looks right to Olive Last. Last has just picked up the metal trash can and throws it at Isabella but she dives out of the way heading toward Brian and she cuts his arm with the blade! She swipes at him again but here comes Last with a long steel pipe that of course was tagged as a weapon and he takes Isabella’s knees out from behind with the pipe. Brain then grabs a watermelon and it has the weapon label, so he smashes it over Oliver’s head!

Tony Bologna: Ouch!

Dick Wuzzy: Well at least they’re playing by the rules and not acting as partners.

Isabella lunges toward Brian, swiping him across the chest with the blade and goes to stab it in his leg but he blocks it and headbutts her on the bridge of the nose before pump kicking her, sending her back and to the floor but the ref is calling it!

Dick Wuzzy: Oh shit! He got caught up in the moment and hit her without a weapon!

Tony Bologna: I can’t really blame him. Who the heck is going to think to stop and grab a weapon at a moment like that? He had to do what he had to do.

The ref waves Brian out of here but he lays a quick stomp into Isabella before exiting the area. Oliver is getting back to his feet now and shaking off the watermelon effect. He grabs a nearby broom and approaches Isabella but then in an unexpected turn of events he tosses the broom to her? He then starts toward her as if to hit her but she swings and cracks the broomstick over Oliver’s head!

DING DING DING!!!

Tony Bologna: What??

The referee is pointing at Isabella and then at the broom.

Ref: Wasn’t labeled as a weapon for this match! You’re outta here!

Dick Wuzzy: Haha that was fuckin’ brilliant! Tossed her a weapon that wasn’t allowed to be a weapon. It’s basically an updated Eddie Guererro trick!

Isabella can’t believe it! She whacks the ref with the broken end of the broomstick and other officials rush over to take her away as Oliver Last holds his head in pain, but also in victory.

Winner: Oliver Last



A giant rowdy crowd begins to gather forming a large circle in the parking lot as if some kind of mosh pit were beginning to form or something. They begin screaming and shoving one another and fighting for a closer look at what was taking place inside the circle. Someone even stabs some dude that was standing in his way as he falls to the ground and begins bleeding profusely, not a single person stopping to help him and rather stampede over the top of him. The camera even has to float above the crowd in order to see what’s going on, as it is obvious that not a single person would allow for the person holding it to push its way through to the center of the circle.

As it floats overhead trying to make its way to the center of the circle of people that have created this mosh pit like giant circle, it takes about ten minutes to float it’s way past a sea of people as thousands, if not millions, of people had gathered in this massive circle to witness what was taking place. And as soon as we get there, it’s obvious as to the reason why. The PROPHET! And Gabe Reno we’re fighting each other in what looked like a revenge type match scenario from what had just taken place the previous Frenzy show. Gabe Reno has a baseball bat and cracks it across PROPHET!’s back while he is downed with a slight smirk on his face as he makes leans down to inflict more damage.

PROPHET!; however, was playing dead possum and a bit and reaches up and grabs the bat from Reno and backhands him with it sending Gabe flailing backwards. PROPHET!, starts running up towards Reno waving the bat over his head ready to strike a devastating running blow, but Reno is too quick and grabs a nearby trash can lid and flings it at PROPHET!’s face like a frisbee. PROPHET!, is too slow as he attempts to block the flying disc trash can lid with his baseball bat, but is instead caught square in the forehead and flops to the ground like a dead fish in the midst of a full blown seizure.

A sudden break in the crowd begins to form directly behind the two XWF superstars fighting in the parking lot with the LARGEST crowd ever imaginable watching the two go at it. Seriously, I mean this is bigger than like 100 Garth Brooks concerts combined. Hate that country boy all you want, the man draws the biggest crowds, except for this one that was parting faster then the dead sea for Moses. After the massive crowd parts finally after what seems like forever due to its enormous size we are revealed the reason as to why this huge crowd could be moved at all… and the reason…. Of course…. Is Jon mother fuckin’ Taffer!

Chucking bikers over his shoulder left and right as if they were footballs and stomping on top of lifeless bodies almost on purpose as his path takes him directly from one motionless body to the next on the pavement in sort of a perfect path of destruction. HOGM is bobbing her head up and down as she follows closely behind on top of SHain who can barely keep up with Taffer’s massive strides as he makes his way towards the commotion of the two XWF superstars fighting in the parking lot. When he arrives upon the scene he starts waving his hand in the air like a windmill directing SHain to hurry up and catch up to him so he can point out more problems in his wrestling federation.

Jon Taffer: “You see here, SHain! You got your general managers out here fighting amongst themselves out in the parking lot in front of all your customers! This is a fucking lawsuit just waiting to happen!”

SHain: “It’s what all the fans wanted, Taffman! All they keep talking about is how my general managers are in the main event! I’M JUST GIVING THE FANS WHAT THEY WANT MR. TAFFER!!!!”

SHain obviously regrets raising his voice like that to Mr. Taffer immediately, because no matter how high pitched or loud of a voice he or HOGM make, Taffer always tops it. It’s been a constant dance between the two from the moment they met as they keep trying to top one another in intensity and volume and always Taffer has come out the victor.

Jon Taffer: “YOU’VE GOT YOUR EMPLOYEES OUT HERE, BEATING EACH OTHER UP!! THIS ONE FALLS AND CRACKS OPEN IT’S HEAD IT CAN’T JUST REGROW AN OLD CRACK WENCH OUT OF THEIR SHOULDERS LIKE YOU!!! THEY’LL SUE YOUR ASS FOR ALL YOU’RE WORTH!! WHY AM I THE ONLY ONE THAT’S GETTING ANGRY!!”

Taffer screeches like a banshee while simultaneously spitting in HOGM’s face as he walks up on her like a bouncer about to throw her out of some gothic night club. SHain wipes the spittle off his face and responds.

SHain: “I’m sorry I merely…”

Taffer interrupts again.

Jon Taffer: “EXCUSES!!”

The bar master begins walking up quickly on SHain hovering over him.

SHain: “Embrace Solutions, EMBRACE SOLUTIONS!!!”

Jon Taffer: “That’s right, now, tell me, did you ever see that episode of Bar Rescue in the middle of some shit stain trailer park in the middle of Iowa called the ‘O Face’ Bar that I rescued a long time ago?? You know, the one with the cheap rip off of Dog the Bounty Hunter’s blonde troll lookin’ wife?!”

SHain: “The classic episode that was the first bar you ever walked out on and gave up?”

Jon Taffer: “ I never gave up, those people were beyond saving! An owner hitting an employee is beyond reprehensible. I’m not a counselor, I’m a bar man!”

A trash can lid comes whizzing past Taffer’s face and hits HOGM directly in the face! SHain grunts and then takes off after Reno to join the general manager brawl out in the parking lot right in front of the venue for Friday Night Frenzy. A replay of what we saw last week perhaps?

SHain: “What’s this about an owner hitting an employee?!?!”

Jon Taffer: “Don’t you dare SHain!”

Taffer says like a parent scolding a toddler who was about to run away with something in their hands they weren’t supposed to be holding.

Jon Taffer: “Drop it, SHain!”

SHain reveals a lump of disgusting black shit dripping off the end of his fingertips, it almost looks fresh!!!

SHain flings the poo at PROPHET! And it smashes across his face. This causes an all out war of the three general managers in far greater intensity then the previous Frenzy. The massive crowd stares mesmerized by the battle that was taking place before their eyes, and it even blew up discord. Literally nuked that mother fucker like it exploded like a bomb because everyone was talking about it so often. The three general managers continue to bash trash cans over the others head and smear shit all over one another. Jim Cornette comes out of the crowd and approaches the gang of general managers beating the hell and smearing feces all over one another.

Jim Cornette: “Enough with this outlaw mud show horse shit!!

He says while tossing fluorescent light bulb tubes at the three, who pick them up and start fighting with them as if they were lightsabers.

Jim Cornette: “Let’s actually let these idiots kill themselves and rid us of all this silliness and my contractual obligations to manage Kenny Olivier!!”

Jon Taffer walks into the middle of the three fencing with the light tubes and grabs each one by the collar of their shirt and screams at them all in the face while holding them all three up in the air at the same time.

Jon Taffer: “LET ME HEAR YOUR CROATON CALL!”

The three in unison respond to Taffer’s odd and yet predictable request.

General Manager Team: “No!”

Jon Taffer: “I SAID, LET ME HEAR YOUR CROATON CALL!!!”

HOGM cackles a bit, but eventually the three of them all oblige as the camera takes turns panning in and out of the faces of the three general managers with an image of the ring slowly coming into focus behind their faces. The three all screaming together in unison…

CROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOA TONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!

Peter F'n Gilmour

vs

Chariti

Singles Match: The "superdick" versus the super ego! There's no doubt Gilly's nether regions will be twitching when he steps into the ring with the gorgeous Chariti. Chariti isn't one to give "donations" but will she accept one from the sexiest man on the roster?

The bell rings and Peter Gilmour laughs at Chariti, says she's a woman and she has no chance against the "God of X-Treme." She shakes her head and says she is gonna kick his ass and he laughs again, obviously not afraid of some little woman. Chariti, however, has a confident look on her face as the two circle. Peter goes for a lock up, but Chariti doesn't wanna get into a strength battle. She ducks under Peter and pops up behind him. Gilly turns around, and she ducks under again, bobbing and weaving like a boxer with each Gilmour advance.

Finally she comes off the ropes and goes for a flying cross body but Gilmour catches her and slams her to the mat. Peter seems cocky still, kicking her lightly in the back as she crawls away. Peter goes to pick her up by the hair but she uppercuts him, staggering him off, and goes for a back kick but he grabs her foot and shoves her away, causing her to lose balance and stumble.

TONY BOLOGNA: Peter is as cocky and arrogant as ever, Dick. He literally has no fear of losing this match to a woman!

DICK WUZZY: I mean, Peter IS known for beating on women. Just ask his old employer, if you can get past the angry mob guarding the front gates.

Chariti is back and the two circle again. Peter is grinning, telling her to bring it on. She steps forward hard, he swings, she anticipates and ducks, and loops behind him, wrapping her arms around her waist. She goes for a suplex but he doesn't move. She tries again, he doesn't move. He grins again and begins to rotate his hips, gyrating and as he grabs her hands and brings them towards his super dick.

TONY BOLOGNA: This is all a big joke to him!

DICK WUZZY: It's Peter Gilmour, life is a big joke.

Chariti has a disgusted look on her face as she balls her fist, and slams Peter in his super dick. He "OOOOOFFFFS" out loud and goes to his knees. Chariti comes off the ropes and knees Peter in the back of the head with a shining wizard. Peter's face bounces off the mat.

She quickly covers.

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2





















Peter gets a shoulder up. Chariti ALMOST stole one there.

She knows she doesn't have the strength advantage over Peter and has to stay on the attack. She comes off the ropes again and drops a knee across his chest.

Another quick cover.

1



2

Peter pops out again.

Peter gets back to his feet, though. The XWF LEGEND won't stay down! Peter uses the ropes to get himself back to his feet. She grabs him, she goes for a side Russian leg sweep, but he hits her with a back elbow and whips her into the corner. Peter is angry now and charges, clotheslining her into the turnbuckle pad. With a yell, he whips her into the other corner.

TONY BOLOGNA: PETER IS ANGRY NOW!

DICK WUZZY: YOU DON'T MESS WITH HIS SUPER DICK!

He runs and drives a shoulder into her midsection, driving the air out of her. He drives a shoulder in again and then takes her by the hair, flipping her over into a sitting position and locking in a sleeper. Chariti is trying to fight it off, but Peter has it locked in. She tries punching out of it, trying to get to her feet, refusing to fade.

Peter's girlfriend is shit talking from the outside, calling Chariti a slut.

Just when it looks like Peter's strength (he is a man, afterall.....) is getting the best of her, Chariti is able to use her athleticism to get her foot on the ropes. The ref makes Peter break the hold. He doesn't seem happy about it but he does, not wanting to be DQ'd. Chariti grabs at her neck, coughing.

She gets up and Peter is on her again, and clubs her in the back of the head. It was a blatant cheap shot.

Cameron is up on the apron. Valery tries to pull her off. She kicks at Valerie, trying to shove her away. Peter sees this and grins again, taking a handful of hair from the head of Cameron in his fist. Chariti's special friend, however, quick draws and goes to Peter in the side of the head with a personal beauty mirror............BUT PETER MOVES

CAMERON HITS CHARITI!!!!!

Valarie pulls Cameron off the apron as Chariti stumbles around, blinded temporarily by the glass

GILMOUR CUTTER!!!!

Peter points at Valerie who licks her lips as he pins her.



1

















2



















THREE!!!!

Dick Wuzzy: “Peter wins!!! By gawd the Super Dick is back!! He’s back!! He’s got his first big victory in the new and improved version of XWF!”

Tony Bologna: “I feel like this is just the start of many more big victories as Peter has his eye set on revenge, and theirs no bigger motivator in the world then rage and the need to seek revenge on those who unceremoniously fired you on your FUCKING BIRTHDAY!”

Dick Wuzzy: “The GOD! Among men has once again reigned supreme and it’s certainly a very long awaited victory. The Prophecy looks stronger than ever!”

Tony Bologna: “Don’t count Chariti out of this completely though, Tony. She certainly put up a great fight against this XWF legend, there’s something to be said for that!!”

Dick Wuzzy: “For a newcomer to even come that close to beating the Xtreme Icon Peter Gilmour like that, is certainly something not to scoff at! She was protecting her girlfriend, or else the match perhaps would have been hers!!”

Peter is celebrating his win in the middle of the ring with his lovely demon assassin Valerie, when suddenly the lights go out completely! The crowd comes to a complete halt and utter silence as fear has gripped them by the balls as the entire arena has gone completely numb to their surroundings.

Tony Bologna: “What the hell is going on Dick?”

Dick Wuzzy: “Did someone forget to pay the electric bill? Those damn wind turbines start freezing up again!?! All thanks to AOC and that green new deal!”

A woman screams and shortly thereafter pandemonium ensues, but just before things get too out of hand the lights come back on. In the center of the ring Peter is laying down flat on his back knocked out cold by…

Morbid Angel!!

Tony Bologna: “The dick collector himself must be back to claim the mightiest meat rod of them all that he stole many years ago, come back to take it as his own SUPER appendage for his necklace once again!

Dick Wuzzy: “What’s this Tony? It appears that Isabella Ravenwolf is with him, and she’s holding Peter down with some kind of mind control witchcraft or some shit!”

Morbid Angel drops his pants and starts dangling his large set of gigantic hairy balls near Peter’s mouth.

Tony Bologna: “And you know Dick, with all the steroids he’s been injecting lately that those balls definitely hang extra, extra low.”

Dick Wuzzy: “Loooow Ride….. Er… Get a little higher…… Take a little trip…. Take a little trip….. Take a little trip in meeeeee…”

Tony Bologna: “What the hell was that, Dick?”

Morbid starts to lower his sagging balls closer to Peter’s face which distracts Dick from answering Tony’s question as the entire crowd is now focused on Morbid’s greasy members.

Dick Wuzzy: “It looks like he’s going to tea bag him Tony!!”

Tony Bologna: “Somebody please stop this disgusting display of vomit inducing behavior! Somebody save Peter!!”

At that very moment The PROPHET! Comes in from the top of the ramp and reaches up into the stands with his hand. Using his force strength he makes one of the pillars come crashing down right next to Isabella Ravenwolf which throws off her concentration in her voodoo chant that was holding Peter down.

Dick Wuzzy: “Thank GOD! For PROPHET!, he just saved Peter from another one of Morbid’s embarrassing penial procedures!”

This gives Peter the chance to get back up and he punts Morbid in the balls!!

Tony Bologna: “That one’s gotta hurt!”

The scene cuts to commercials as Peter and Isabella are going at it in the ring and The PROPHET!, stepping over Morbid Angel in order to assist Peter as the evil ball dipper is on the ground writhing in pain.



Our next scene opens up to a tall man with blonde hair and blue eyes and a scowl on his face the size of a woman who just was told she needed to lighten up by her mother in law. He doesn’t look happy, as he makes his way closer to the fence and eventually his true identity is revealed. It’s Chris Hansen from Dateline NBC! I’d say I’m surprised to see him, but I think we all know the real reason why he’s here.

Chris Hansen: “Enough is enough!”

As he approaches the fencing around the arena, a group of police officers approach him lookin very concerned as Chris is peering through the holes in the fence.

Police Officer: “Can we help you, sir?”

Chris Hansen: “Sure guys, why don’t you just take a seat over there and let’s talk it out.”

Police Officer: “Take a seat where? There’s nowhere to sit?!”

Chris Hansen: “Why don’t you just have a seat!”

Police Officer: “Listen moron, do you want to get arrested for lurking?!?!”

Chris Hansen: “Don’t you mean loitering?”

Police Officer: “Same thing shit head. Do you know the punishment for lurking around these parts?”

Chris Hansen: “I know loitering is probably just a minor citation with just a meager fine.”

The police officer isn’t amused by his answers and he grabs the fence and starts shaking it like an absolute madman scaring Chris Hansen away.

Police Officer: “Round these parts lurking carries a penalty of an anal raping to the death! That what you want now, huh boy!”

Chris Hansen is seen running away as the police officer chuckles to himself before making his way further down the fence where he sees another harmless soul peeking his way in to see what was taking place inside the arena. He checks his top secret watch which does a body scan of the person peering through the fence and it tells him the exact identity of the culprit he was sent to harass. A smile cracks his face and an erection pops up in his pants as he takes off towards his next victim.

Morbid Angel

vs

"TwinkleToes McFingerbang" Kenny Olivier

Singles Match w/ Jim Cornette as guest referee! Jim is Kenny's unwilling "manager" for 90 days, but we all know Jim can't stand Kenny! How will Jim's personal feelings come into play versus his professionalism and ability to do his job? Will he hurt or help his own client? Also, what are Jim's thoughts on how Morbid Angel as a wrestler (and occasional cock ripper offer) affects the wrestling business? Can Morbid Angel easily convince Jim to stab Kenny in the back? So many questions! Cult of Cornette members are DYING to watch these promos and hear these guys go at it before the show!

We find our next match ready to begin as Morbid Angel and Kenny Olivier are in their respective corners. Jim Cornette is in the center of the ring, wearing his referee stripes, already looking annoyed at how the fabric is irritating his arm pits.

Tony Bologna: He sure doesn’t seem pleased to be here.

Dick Wuzzy: Well he’s stuck managing a guy he hates because of some 90 day contract he signed while he was under the influence. Would you be happy?

DING DING DING…

The bell rings and we’re off! Kenny comes flying out of the corner like a bat out of hell and goes for the flying V Trigger knee!

Morbid Angel just ducks and Kenny flies over the top rope for the outside!

Cornette: For fuck’s sake!!!! One move in and you’re already cartwheeling to the outside!!! Fuuuuuuuu-UCK!

Jim shakes his head in disgust at his own client as Morbid just looks on, enjoying the display.

Cornette: Get up you fuckwit!

Kenny is down on the mat at ringside, writhing in pain. He’s holding his head and his ribs.

Cornette: Shake it off you Harpo Marx looking ballerina footed cosplayer! Get back in here!

Dick Wuzzy: Oh jesus this isn’t looking good. Just count him out already, Jim. You’re the ref!

Tony Bologna: At the same time though that is his client meaning he does have an interest in that winner’s purse that gets shared with the manager.

Kenny finally starts to push himself to his feet and Morbid Angel quickly slides out of the ring on the other side, running around the ring to gain momentum and… SLAAAAM!!!! He shoulder blocks Kenny through the barricade!!!

Fans: Holy shit, holy shit…

Jim Cornette is ripping what little hair he has left out.

Cornette: HOLY SHIT! God daaaaamnit!? Fuck!

Tony Bologna: Jim seems to be having problems keeping control of this contest.

Jim sees Morbid Angel just hovering over Kenny’s battered body, slowly cherry picking all the sweet spots to stomp and kick as he stalks around him. Jim rushes over to ringside and grabs his trademark tennis racquet.

Tony Bologna: Uh oh. When the ref is the first to grab a weapon you know things aren’t going the way they should.

Jim hastily makes his way around ringside and over to Morbid and Kenny.

Cornette: Get in the fuckin’ ring you jack offs!

WHACK!

Jim just slammed that racquet right into Morbid’s back!!!

Morbid slowly turns around as Jim freezes in his tracks.

Dick Wuzzy: Uh oh!

Morbid is about to lay into Jim but then takes a step back realizing Jim is already whacking Kenny with the racquet now. Morbid just shrugs it off and observes as Jim tries to revive his client with several more shots from the racquet.

Morbid Angel: Here let me help!

Morbid takes the racquet from Jim and pulls Kenny up to his feet. He turns Kenny around, bends him over, and takes the racquet handle first getting ready to shove it up Kenny’s ass!

Tony Bologna: For the love of god!

Dick Wuzzy: Morbid’s about to penetrate old TwinkleToes!

Jim sees what’s happening and while he doesn’t mind the notion of Kenny getting fucked, he also feels this kind of “wrestling” shits on the entire industry and insults it. Jim rushes in and grabs his racquet, getting into a quick tug of war with Morbid. As the two are struggling over the racquet, Kenny pulls his tights back up and flutters up to the ring apron, tip toes as quickly as can be across it to the turnbuckle, scales it more gracefully than any man has ever ascended to any height before… And he leaps!

TwinkleToes McFingerbang soars through the air like an angel in his own right as Morbid Angel and Jim Cornette both look up and try to brace themselves for impact but Kenny lands hard across both of them!

Jim goes flopping away, landing ass up. Morbid didn’t budge. Kenny’s down, holding his head where it happened to crash into Morbid’s cock.

Dick Wuzzy: Hold on so let me get this straight. Kenny just took out Morbid and Jim except because Kenny’s head happened to make contact with Morbid’s notoriously resilient cock muscle, it’s Kenny and Jim who are both hurt in this exchange?

Tony Bologna: Looks that way, Dick!

Morbid can’t help but take a moment to turn to the fans and allow them to bask in the glory of his immovable night hammer of victory. He has his hands on his hips, just standing proud as fuck and keeping his pelvis ever, ever, ever so slightly swaying forward and back.

Dick Wuzzy: Well he’s sure proud of that registered lethal weapon he’s got there.

Jim starts to come to his senses and sees Morbid in that post, prominently highlighting his own cock and balls to the fans. Jim’s eyes bug out of head and he facepalms himself to oblivion before turning to his client and seeing him laid out cold, now bleeding from the face.

Dick Wuzzy: Oh I guess Morbid popped his face cherry too.

Tony Bologna: Gross.

Cornette: This is an outlaw mudshow from the deepest darkest corner of hell and I’m stuck reffing this shit? You know what? Next person to piss me off gets DQ’d!

Morbid Angel grabs Kenny and rolls him into the ring. Morbid follows and stalks his prey, waiting for him to rise. Kenny begins to extend his frame…

And suddenly…

Morbid Angel grabs a phone from a fan, quickly looks up a video, and shows Jim Cornette the latest youtube footage of Kenny Olivier playing in the ring with blowup dolls and Japanese schoolgirls!

Dick Wuzzy: Ouch!

Jim’s eyes light up with fire. Apparently Jim hadn’t seen this new footage yet!

Cornette: Oh for the love of……. Fuck it! This sing-songy, jazz hands’ing, perm having, fingerfucking satchel of fairy dust is a disgrace to this business!

Kenny is shaking off the cobwebs as Jim takes the phone Morbid borrowed from a fan and he shatters it over Kenny’s head!!!

Dick Wuzzy: Hot damn!

Tony Bologna: What is it with Jim and phones?

Cornette turns to Morbid.

Cornette: You know what? YOU WIN!

Ding ding ding…

Dick Wuzzy: Ha ha what? Did Jim really just call it like that?

Tony Bologna: I mean he did say the next guy to piss him off would be DQ’d. I guess it was ol’ TwinkleToes here. Jim IS NOT a fan of what he just saw more footage of Kenny doing.

Dick Wuzzy: But Kenny should just claim it’s old footage and doesn’t matter. I hear that’s a good defense.

Morbid Angel accepts the victory, as he is always happy to do. He raises his rist in triumph as Jim keeps berating his own client and looking at him with such a level of disgust.

Morbid Angel adjusts his focus back on Kenny now, backs up as far as he can against the ropes, and then sprints forward delivering one hell of a field goal kick to Kenny’s ribs as he was trying to push himself to his feet! Kenny flies up and over the ropes, tumbling and crashing down onto the apron and then the floor.

Dick Wuzzy: It’s good! Morbid Angel’s experience in the NFL is sure paying dividends!

Jim is using his racquet to fan Kenny and try to revive him so he can hear him berate him some more, and some of those “fanning” swipes and up cracking him in the face, which Jim has no problem with.

Winner: Morbid Angel





Jon Taffer is seen barreling down the hallway making his way towards his office trampling over office plants and chairs and flattening them beneath his giant foot as if he were leaving tracks like a tyrannosaurus rex. His door is already missing from his office as a graveyard of broken wood splitters and hinges lay beneath the entrance to his office. When he gets there, he notices that Chris Hansen was already there waiting for him and sitting in his giant throne chair constructed of the finest gold leather that money can buy.

Jon Taffer: “Get the hell out of my chair, Hansen! Your reality television show is nothing compared to mine!”

Chris Hansen: “Why don’t you have a seat, Mr. Taffer right over there.”

Jon Taffer: “This is my office you walking tampon, now get the hell out of my chair!”

Chris Hansen: “Just take a seat.”

Taffer throws a bar glass at Chris Hansen’s head that he must just keep up his sleeve to use at any random time he deems necessary. Hansen ducks just in the nick of time and then pleads with Taffer before the bar man behemoth reaches for another bar glass in his trench coat pocket.

Chris Hansen: “Listen, Taffy, I’ve been hired by the XWF to help keep an eye on this place. As you know many of those brainwashed buffoons over in the fake 99 pedo federation are starting to trickle their way here through the underground railroad to freedom from their communist dictators. I’m just here to make sure any of those undesirables don’t make their way over here.”

Jon Taffer: “How the hell are you going to do that?”

Chris Hansen: “It’s easy Taffer, no pedo would come within 100 miles around me. It’s really kind of a no brainer.”

Jon Taffer: “You calling me stupid, Mr Hansen?”

Taffer raises another bar glass as if he’s going to chuck it at Hansen’s face who cowers and immediately starts to plead for mercy again.

Chris Hansen: “Please sir, don’t throw that at me! You’re a brilliant man Mr. Taffer!”

Jon Taffer: “I suppose you do have a purpose despite how much you do annoy me with your witty attitude and your weasel like appearance. Just know that I’m the top dog reality tv star around here and you can stay as long as you know that you’ll be constantly playing second fiddle to me forever!”

Chris Hansen: “Of course…”

Chris Hansen bows and then walks out of Taffer’s office and the scene fades to our next match of the night.

Kieran Overton

vs

Bonnie Blue

Singles Match: Following her impressive victory in her Frenzy debut, can Bonnie Blue move on to stop the oncoming train known throughout the wrestling industry as Kieran Overton? All eyes are on this guaranteed show stealer!

Bonnie Blue is in the ring awaiting the arrival of Kieran Overton, but nothing happens…?

Tony Bologna: We’re being told there was some sort of issue with Kieran. Let’s go to the back.

Backstage we see some really goofy looking dude with long blonde hair and a ripped up t-shirt, covered in oil or sweat. He’s got somebody cornered, and is SCREeEeEAMING at the person as loud as he can!

Dick Wuzzy: Who the hell is this pansy ass lookin’ turd?

Tony Bologna: I’m not sure, but he’s really laying it in verbally to that person cowering and shaking in the corner! What the heck did we just stumble into?

The blonde with googley eyes and THE most enormous front teeth just continues to rage and scream…

Triggered Blonde: WHAT WERE YOU DOING? HOW DARE YOU! YOU WENT AND DID BUSINESS WITH THE PEOPLE THAT FOUND OUT I’VE GOT A PEDO IN MY BED! HOW DARRRRRRRRRE YOOOOUUUUU WORK WITH PEOPLE THAT EXPOSE ME!!!!

BUT I GUESS I SHOULDN’T BE SURPRISED!

BECAUSE YOU NEVER WERE VERY SMART!

Tony Bologna: Oh man this whack job is angry as hell. I sure hope he’s not screaming at and bullying a person with any type of disability. I still can’t quite make out who this little dork is yelling at but they look terrified and unable to defend themselves against the mere words of a RAGING jackass that thinks he’s their master.

Triggered Blonde: You stupid idiot! How dare you work with people that catch me being a shady ass worthless piece of dog shit! BAD! BAD!

Dick Wuzzy: Oh my god is this incel whacking that possibly disabled person with a goddamn rolled up newspaper now and yelling BAD at them?

Tony Bologna: That he is, Dick.

*CLICK*

A gun is placed to the head of the raging blonde bitch boy.

SHain KarvHOGMblow is the one holding it.

SHain: Ok. Well if you’re going to fuck up this entire match when we’re trying to do the introductions, guess what? Now you’re going to the ring to make up for it. Get moving, pedo lover.

-- Edited by XWF00 OFFICIAL on Sunday 21st of February 2021 01:56:59 PM