Like a Phoenix from the Earth watch me take flight
The world's in color when I walk it's all in black and white

Chino XL - Here To Save You All







Quick someone wake the president


He needs to told about this error


I don't want to beat Lost World's ass....No really, I've done it twice, it was quite enough. STOP TRYING TO CREATE HEAT....Seriously, I know there is nothing worthwhile going on, Jalen is off in fairy land while Luciano just seems to wander around randomly popping his head up like a damn wack-a-mole set...I know Daher tried this big comeback and just disappeared, Chaos got a nice facial and is no longer marketable, Jakob Grimes just bores everyone to tears and Crisis routinely shows up in the ring to take a dump and leave...I know that right now I'm being banked on, but come on people, let's not create things that don't exist.


It's called heat


There is no heat between Lost Worlds and I, I don't know how many times I have to repeat this, maybe eventually it will seep into your brains and you'll stop wasting my time with this hack. Just hand me the damn title already, stop throwing these sad little roadblocks in my way, on their best days they are merely speed bumps on my drive to victory....But set them aside a moment. I really needed a laugh last Wednesday, I was down all day because I had to go out and basically carry another lifeless body around the ring and make it look like a decent match. But a form of entertainment came from an unexpected source.


Hey doofus


I bet you hated slapping that mat a third time, didn't you? I bet you could feel the bile rising in the back of your throat wanting to burst through your lips like so many bad jokes. But that's when the boredom ended and you did the funniest thing of your career. I tell you I've watched the tape at least 5 times and you crack me up each and every time, bravo my man...Bravo....


What's that?


It wasn't intended as a joke?


So what you're telling me is the funniest thing you've EVER done...And yes I do mean ever, if I have to watch another one of your stupid friends parading around infront of a camera in some attempt at humor I will shoot myself...Wasn't even intended to be a joke? Damn, guess you crossed the threshold into totally useless. Yes Lost, YOU ARE USELESS...READ MY LIPS..USELESS, UNNECESSARY, UNWANTED, UNTALENTED...Take your pick, any of them work. You somehow finagled yourself into this little deal, good for you....You want your chance at redemption, I've embarassed you numerous times and you're pissed, I've tarnished your career.


I love this part


NEWSFLASH


There was no career to tarnish.


Yes Lost, you've done NOTHING...You are...NOTHING...You have...NOTHING...In your wins collumn vs me there will be...Well you know. Attack me again on Wednesday Lost.


I fucking dare you.


Now for this short interlude....What's with the wrestling world these days? I joke about it frequently but really, I remember when being a wrestler used to mean something. Now it seems all you need is the money to buy your way in, or you be like Lost Worlds to kill a few minutes so people can go take a dump. Let's bring some fucking respect back into this buisness and stop with the cheap, gimmicky shit, I'm tired of it, the ring announcer is tired of it, the announcers are tired of it, hell even Joseph and Mary sitting in their little fucking manger are tired of it.


Let's focus on the real meat of the issue...My two opponents, "Fallen Star" Shane Masters and Anthony Craven. Frankly if the two of them want to beat Lost World's ass so badly I say let them fight and let me sit this one out, because with the two of them in there you might at least have a semblance of a match. Sure there will be blown spots and botched maneuvers but it will be more of a contest than me spending a precious 5 minutes just whaling on them. I mean really, do you honestly think either of these men are any match for me?


The word doormats comes to mind


Get it?


Because I am going to walk all over them


"Fallen Star" Shane Masters...Appropriate name considering how your head fell onto the mat outside the ring last week...Ok, that was a little to easy, but so is this match. I am wasting my time on two guys that will either not say anything at all, or will wait until the last second when it won't matter anyway. Show up, get your ass kicked, collect your paycheck, go home. That is the extent of your duties this Wednesday. Forget about putting up a fight....


Let me break it down for you.....





~:: The night was still. He could feel the wind brushing against his skin, causing goosebumps. He shivered and pulled the blanket around him, his eyes gazing into the distance....Last week had gone off without a hitch, just as predicted by his mysterious benefactor. He had been attacked by Lost, what frightened him were the details....It seemed like whatever he said to him came true, down to the smallest detail. Why was he worried? The pay was good, he was making progress....Then why did this bother him so? ::~


~:: It was like a stone in his soul, dragging him down. It seemed like quicksand at times, with each forward movement he sunk in deeper. He liked the money, but he didn't like being owned...Yes, that was what was bothering him, he felt like a caged animal. He hated that feeling, he was used to being his own man, doing things on his own terms. He needed someone to talk to before he lost his mind....He talked to his old friend, but things were still sketchy, he could call Eva, but he would be unable to truly spill his guts ::~


FUCK


~:: He stubbed his toe on the deck. He wanted so badly to tell Eva everything, but handing that information to her could kill her. He already caused enough trouble telling her he was re-entering wrestling, telling her that he fell into his old habits would only further hurt her...She had enough problems, he didn't need to add to them. Suddenlly a noise cut through the blackness. His eared perked up, sounded like the ringing of his phone. He opened the door and went inside, he heard the ringing, but where did he leave the phone? ::~


~:: He waited for it to ring again, sounded like it was in his bedroom...Why was he so forgetful? He routinely misplaced things. He ran to the bedroom, his toe still throbbing, he heard it, but slightly muffled. He shook the covers, there it was. He quickly clicked talk so the machine wouldn't grab it. ::~


Hello?



Hello, Alexander is that you? You sound out of breath.


~:: He was suprised...No, that wasn't the right word, he was delighted to hear the voice on the other end. He dropped onto the bed, banging his toe against the edge of the bed in the process. ::~


Dante? I never thought you'd call.


~:: He could hear breathing on the other end, and in the background the faint noises of metal work. It seemed odd to him, but he paid it no mind ::~


Well, you were right, all those years of friendship mean more than one fuck up. I wish you would've trusted us enough to tell us the truth, but what's done is done.



Glad you see it that way....


Yeah, I figure shit happened, enough of it, time to move on.


~:: There was an akward silence...He could tell Dante was trying to say something to him, but somehow found it hard to get the words out. He took the intiative instead ::~


You obviously want to say something to me, so come on Dante, just stop playing the coy routine and tell me what's on your mind.


Well you know the guys I was with when we met?


Yeah....


Well they passed along the word that I met you.


~:: He could feel the lump in his throat again. He knew it was a mistake to talk to Dante, why did he do it, who knows about the meeting by now? ::~


What do you mean they passed along the word? Don't you have them on a leash, can't you control your own fucking body guard?


That doesn't matter, what does matter is that Rondell knows you're not dead as we all suspected, and that...


Means I'm fucked....


~:: He could hear Dante sigh again, not a good sign, not a good sign at all ::~


Not necessarilly....


What do you mean, not necessarilly?


Well, there is this thing....


~:: Dante didn't have to say another word. He knew what that phrase meant ::~


No, there is no thing, don't even fucking asking me what you are about to ask me Dante, don't fucking do it.


~:: The lump tightened his throat. He felt ill. Dante is the last person he expected this type of behavior from ::~


Listen, you can either do what I'm asking or you can disappear again, the choice is yours, I don't want to push this on you, but you really have no choice.


~:: His mind was racing, he thought the blood was washed off his hands. He'd been down this road before....It was only one more job, would it really be so bad? Would doing it just one more time kill him? He had no choice, he couldn't disappear.....Not again ::~


Allright, name the time and the place....






"Fallen Star" Shane Masters, the first of two. You come to me after a dismal week, I'm gonna make sure you start a streak. Let me point something out to you to you Masters..NOBODY WANTS YOU HERE....I'm sick and tired of being hand-fed opponents, I didn't come back to wrestling to beat up on nameless nobodies. I beat Lost Worlds, big fucking deal, it ain't going on my resume. He is still obsessed with the loss while I try and move on to bigger and better things...


And I get you


Either they didn't hear me or the meaning of bigger and better has become moronic and mediocre. I'm leaning more towards the first one. Ok, fine, I can play along, I'll go out and beat up a few guys, hell I'll even go out on the ppv and beat up Lost Worlds again, maybe this time slice a little deeper. Yeah Lost, I cut you, sliced you like a piece of meat and left you to dry. Must have been quite a sight for the paramedics, seeing you lying there in a pool of your own blood and urine.


Maybe I'll let Shane share the same fate. He seems a bit infatuated with you..But enough of that, let me get down to why I want to leave you nothing but a smear on that mat Masters, it's because you fucking cost me. Your weakness, your failure prevented the plan from going off flawlessly. Beat up a couple of chumps and leave...WHAT PART OF THAT DID YOU NOT UNDERSTAND? At no point did, lie down and be counted out enter the picture.


A picture says a thousand words.


The picture you painted at the ppv contained but one word...FAILURE...You failed then, you'll fail now. You have no chance, no shot, no hope. I don't even need to be on my game for this match, I just have to show up, plain and simple. Neither you nor Craven will cause me to break a sweat.


Hell I could hold a Martini and still beat you without spilling a drop.


Which brings me to Craven...The man who has come back more times than Michael Jordan. You've gotten fucked so many times Craven...Do the words two dollar whore mean anything to you? They should, you're nothing more than on. You come in and take your beatings and collect a paycheck...I mean fuck man, you got beaten by Crisis three times in a row. Let me repeat that for the rest of the class.


THREE TIMES


CRISIS


ALL LOSSES


I think everyone gets it now. You aren't even a has been or a never was, you're just a nobody who got lucky.


I'm through with both of you.


Fuck it all