Post by Sarah Twilight on May 1, 2016 16:49:03 GMT -5
Every action, be it for good, or be it for evil has lasting effects for all time. What I have done, what I have accomplished, cannot be taken from me.
What I have yet to do ... now that is where things get interesting.
Friday, April 29th, 2016
Interstate 805
Outskirts of San Ysidro, California
1:46pm PST
It had been just over forty eight hours since WCF Superstar, Sarah Twilight had returned home to her Hollywood Hills home. Almost six hours in the air coming in from Toronto, The Mistress of Mischief was not looking forward to spending another four hours in the air for her scheduled trip to Mexico City. Instead, Sarah opted to hop into her brand new 2016 black Mustang GT convertible and take the drive down herself. The breathtaking redhead sits comfortably against the leather driver's seat as she moves along slowly on Interstate 805 toward the United States/Mexico border. The convertible top is rolled down, wind blowing through her impeccable scarlet locks, and the radio turned up and tuned in to Channel 9-3-3, San Diego's hit music station. "Stressed Out" by Twenty One Pilots was the song currently being aired over the station and The Mistress of Mischief wasn't paying too much attention to it. The haughty redhead was wearing a simple black top with the self franchising phrase "The Only One" written across the breast of the tee, light blue denim jeans and a black pair of nike sneakers with white trim and swoosh. Her sterling silver pentacle twinkles brightly under the rays of sun beating down upon the Mustang and a pair of designer shades covers her eyes from the glare.
In the passenger seat beside her sat Andre Holmes, whom Sarah was begrudgingly giving a ride to. Unfortunately for the scarlet haired vixen, she actually needed Holmes to make it to Mexico for Slam if they were to have any shot of advancing in the Trios tournament. Andre gazes out to the right of him, checking on the scenery along the way ... as he finds himself lost in his own thoughts. The two haven't actually said much of anything to one another from the moment Sarah had picked Andre up a few short hours ago. The silence between them was amicable, as they were simply enjoying a peaceful ride. This method of travel may take longer than a simple flight, but the comforts, the freedom ... the traffic. As was a common occurrence, the hundreds upon hundreds of cars heading into Mexico came to a halt, leaving Sarah and Andre stuck waiting for an indeterminate amount of time to reach the border checkpoint. The flashing lights up ahead and swarms of officials were an indication that something was going down ... most likely someone caught trying to smuggle some illegal substances over the border. Sarah smiles as she casually shifts the car into park and rests her hands behind her head with a satisfied sigh escaping her lips. Andre turns to look at her, puzzled.
Andre Holmes: You know we're going to be stuck her for like an hour, right?
Sarah's smirk only increases as she looks out toward the east of her where the open fields of the Pacific Gateway Park were in plain view. Her smirk widens into a full on grin as she casually responds to Andre.
Sarah: Oh I'm well aware.
Andre looks a bit agitated at the prospect of sitting in the same spot for over an hour without moving anywhere. He runs his hand through his hair and can't comprehend why Sarah isn't flipping out about this situation herself.
Andre Holmes: One hour ... here, in this spot. Maybe longer. Are you even hearing me right now?
Sarah: I heard just fine the first time. Everything is working out exactly how it should.
Andre does a double take. How the hell could being stuck in traffic, just WAITING to get into Mexico be anything working out? As he tries to even grasp the situation and why Sarah would EVER think this was a good thing, he notices Sarah point out toward the park. Andre squints his eyes to help make out what he was supposed to be looking at, what with the glare of the sun against him. He finally is able to make out what Sarah was directing his attention at and it only causes his level of confusion to increase.
Andre Holmes: So what? There's a group of geeks hitting each other with plastic sticks.
Sarah begins to chuckle. She obviously knew something that Andre didn't. Or perhaps she'd just lost her fucking mind for all Andre knew.
Sarah: Exactly!
Andre continues to stare blankly at Sarah with an ever growing befuddled look upon his face.
Andre Holmes: What the hell do some goofy kids playing dress up have to do with me, or you, or the Trios?
Sarah reaches to the console, switching the radio off and flicking her hazard lights into the on position. She pushes open the door to the Mustang and seps out, reaching behind the driver's seat to remove a medium sized envelope. Andre is even more puzzled at what the hell was actually going on and instinctively, he too exits the vehicle if for no other reason than to see what exactly Sarah was up to. After having collected the envelope and whatever contents it contained, Sarah glances to Andre and finally answers his question. Well, as much of an answer as Andre was going to receive anyhow.
Sarah: You'll see.
She navigates her way inbetween the endless number of cars, trucks and sports utility vehicles congesting the highway and begins off toward the Pacific Gateway Park. Andre starts following after her, lingering behind by a bit as he was still somewhat hesitant to just leave the car unattended. Though as he looked around, several people were doing the same. Whether it was getting out to stretch or just walking off somewhere to do something it was entirely clear that the duration of this dead stop to traffic was going to last quite a while. As he makes his way around a tractor trailer he finds himself stepping into the grass. Ahead of him the open field that served as the very beginnings of the park. Sarah was still a bit ahead of him so he jogs to catch up to her. It was clear as day that she was heading directly for the group of live action role players that she'd pointed out to him a few moments ago. Upon catching up to her pace, he questions such a decision once again.
Andre Holmes: Look, Sarah ... I don't know what you like to do with your spare time. But I know one thing for certain, we don't have time to play Dungeons and Dragons with some kids. So will you please tell me what the actual fuck we're doing out here?
Sarah might have actually planned to respond to him. More than likely, she never had any intention of answering his persistently pestering questions. Though she never had to bother as a few of the role players notice Sarah and Andre walking in their direction. Excitedly, the group starts making their way toward the duo. The young teens were dressed in ridiculous garb. Wearing sheets as royal capes, plastic body armor and nerf lances and swords to complete this completely idiodic fairytale.
Kriemhilde: The Queen of Burgund! She has returned to us once more!
Sarah rolls her eyes at the fact that some three years later, these delusional retards were still referring to her as their Queen. Oh yes, Sarah had quite the history with these rag-tag role playing loons. It had all begun with a war waged against Odin Balfore a number of years ago ... but that was a tale for another place and time. Funny thing how history repeats itself ... Sarah finds herself just days from dismantling yet another set of aging, forgotten, and very dated stars ... and once again she finds herself on the receiving end of reverence and praise due her ... from a group of role players in a field. Andre is about to laugh as the young teenaged girl roleplayer had referred to Sarah as the Queen of ... something. That is until her male counterpart role player addresses Andre's presence.
Siegfried: And she has brought forth a King to rule our land at her side!
Sarah vehemently shakes her head at ANY notion that her and Andre were "together" or that he was a king of any sort.
Sarah: Nope. Never happening.
Andre Holmes: I dunno, I think they had it right the first time. King Andre, has a nice ring to it.
Sarah turns to Andre with a nasty glare as he revels in the fact he'd been referred to as a king by these Warcraft geeks.
Sarah: Didn't you just say you didn't have any time for Dungeons and Dragons bullshit?
Andre shrugs his shoulders.
Andre Holmes: Yeah, but that was before I got made into a king!
Sarah: You STILL aren't a king, and no ... we don't have time for this.
Andre Holmes: Then why are we even here?
Sarah sighs as if it should have been plainly obvious. She holds up the envelope in her left hand and waves it back and forth a few times in a gesture that was intended to make the light bulb go off inside of Andre's head.
Sarah: Business. That's why we're here ... business. Why the fuck else would I be here?
Andre scratches his head a few times. I mean sure, the envelope ... Sarah always taking her career very seriously ... it makes sense. But there was still one thing Holmes couldn't quite wrap his head around.
Andre Holmes: What kind of business do you possibly have with some high school kids playing weird games in a field?
Sarah turns her attention away from Andre and towards the role players. She hands the envelope to the one calling himself Siegfried.
Sarah: I need you to do something for me.
Siegfried bows before Sarah in humble acceptance of her request before she had even explained what it was she required them to do. Following this, in true role playing fashion, he turns to his fellow role players and addresses them, holding the envelope high above his head as if it were some mystical artifact of great importance.
Siegfried: Behold! Our Queen has tasked us with a duty of great importance! The fate of Burgund is at hand. We shall honor our great Queen and fulfill our duties to her kingdom and to her crown!
Kriemhilde: Of course! We shall honor the Queen even into death!
Andre Holmes: And king!
Everyone looks oddly at Andre and he just shrugs his shoulders, still not quite certain what to make of this situation. As the role players celebrate the fact that they'd been given a task by their "Queen", one of them doesn't look as enthusiastic and leans against a tree with his arms folded. Siegfried notices and approaches his friend.
Siegfried: Leonis ... have you forgotten our vow? We are forever indebted to the Queen as she brought prophecy to life. The Twilight of the Gods ... she vanquished the God of War, Odin! How can you dare stand here with such treasonist defiance?
The one known as Leonis responds ... however he isn't keeping to character like the rest of the nerds.
Leonis: The last time we did something for her ... we almost got arrested. I can't do it man ... can't do it.
Siegfried ironically enough drops character to in fact point out, that Leonis had dropped character.
Siegfried: Paul, what the hell are you doing? You're ruining everything!
Leonis: I don't care, Mark. I'm not going to jail.
As the two continue to bicker, Sarah's patience wears thin and she puts a stop to the argument.
Sarah: Just ... shut up! The both of you ... fucking hell. Just open the fucking envelope and do what I ask.
Siegfried apologizes and turns his attention to the envelope Sarah had given him. He tears it open and reaches inside, removing three photographs from within. His friends huddle around him and they look over the images they'd been handed. Kriemhilde looks up at Sarah and she queries the redhead.
Kriemhilde: Who are they?
The images in question are three headshots. The first one capturing the image of Oblivion, with the others being Night Rider and Freezer Burn respectively. Each image was printed from WCF.com and was the most recent photo respresentation of each star. The group of role players continue to circulate the photos among one another. Sarah does not bother to answer the question as to whom the men were, but rather she reaches into her pocket and retrieves a small device, also handing it to Siegfried.
Sarah: I need you to go over by the road, and when you see any of those three men approach the checkpoint to the border ... I need you to sneak over, and place this on, or in their car ... somehow. Don't care how, just that it gets done.
The role players look over the device and in their frenzied state of fantasy enduced euphoria, imagine it as some mystical otherwordly key sent down from the Gods only to be hand delivered to their own Queen. Now, she had handed it over to them as part of a Hero's Quest which would take them on the adventure of a lifetime. Or, to those of us living in the real world, she's handed them a GPS tracking device and for one reason or another, she wants them to plant said device onto one of her three upcoming opponent's cars.
Siegfried: We shall begin our journey at once m'lady! Come, we have much work to do in the name of Burgund! We shall stake out the road and we shall await the carriage which holds one of the three men our Queen seeks. We shall use the God's eye key with swiftness and place it upon thine carriage!
Sarah rolls her eyes as she turns away from the role players, now knowing they were going to do as she had told them to. She begins heading back toward her car as Andre turns and follows suit.
AndHolmes: I dunno what you're up to ... but I think I like it.
Sarah is simpering with the most ingratiating of expressions upon her face as the two continue toward the Mustang. We fade out.
Saturday, April 30th, 2016
Mexico City, Mexico
Downtown District West
7:38pm PST
It had been roughly a half an hour since Sarah Twilight had left Andre Holmes back at the Gran Hotel Ciudad De Mexico and things were finally beginning to shape up. Now that her extra baggage was settled up in his own hotel and no longer pestering her with a barrage of relentless questions, she could get down to business. Rather than immediately heading to her own hotel, she had a few things up her sleeve. The only problem was ... she wasn't exactly sure how to go about enacting the remainder of her plan. That is ... until fate stepped in and provided her with the answer. The downtown district of Mexico City is highly divided. To the east and the north were your luxury hotels, your tourist traps and basically everything you would expect to see on a breathtaking getaway in Mexico. The west and south districts however, those were places that tourists generally didn't spend much time visiting. And you mostly wouldn't want to. Several horror stories of American citizens wandering off into places they shouldn't be, and never being heard from again. Sarah didn't worry about any of that ... she was in the shadiest part of the city for a purpose and that purpose just wound up with a way to be fulfilled.
There in front of her on a worn out street pole was a sign ... basically a wanted sign. Despite it being posted in Spanish and despite Sarah not being fluent in the language, it was plain as day that this was a wanted sign ... except that it wasn't posted by any official government entity. In these parts, the cartels make it known publicly whom they have a bounty on, and generally Mexican officials don't interfere in such matters either out of fear, or because they are owned and paid for by the cartels. Sarah takes quite a bit of interest in this particular sign as the picture on the worn down paper kinda resembled Night Rider ... if Night Rider were Mexican. The hair style, the facial hair ... it was all there, just slightly darker complexion and of course darker hair. The resemblance was too striking to ignore and Sarah slowly pulls her car to a stop next to the pole and retrieves the flyer.
Having the bounty claim with her, she now began her REAL search and drove around, paying close attention to her surroundings. In such a seedy area, it doesn't take long for her to find exactly what she was looking for. With several derelicts hanging around one particlar structure, she knew this was where her travels had lead her. The stench of death filled the air surrounding the decrepit structure which by all accounts would appear to be abandoned to mostly anyone else. But when you're looking for trouble ... you know where to find it. Sarah pulls the top to her car up before exiting the vehicle and locking up behind her. She takes the bounty note with her and makes her way into the building.
The moment she walks into the main room of the small, hidden "gem" of a structure, she is greeted with several semi-automatic guns being drawn and pointed at her. Men yell at her in Spanish and of course she has no idea what they are even saying. It was quite apparent she'd entered an area controlled by the cartel, and they were not happy that she was intruding.
Cartel Member: qué haces aquí perra blanca ? No eres bienvenido aquí , salir ahora o que no tendrá su vida.
(subtitular: what are you doing here white bitch? you are not welcome here, leave now or you will not have your life.)
Sarah tilts her head slightly as of course, she didn't understand any of that. However, she was smart enough to know that with the number of gun barrels pointed in her direction, that it wasn't something friendly. She holds up the bounty flyer in an effort to gain some type of common ground with the men. The action almost causes a few loose triggers to jump the shark, but luckily for her they do not. The apparent leader of the group addresses Sarah once again when she shows them the flyer.
Cartel Member: El demonio oscuro, qué negocio tiene usted con él? Aquí se viene a insultarnos ? burlarse de nosotros ? Debería colocar una bala en la cabeza!
(subtitular: The dark devil, what business do you have with him? You come here to insult us? Mock us? I should place a bullet in your head!)
Sarah still had no clue what was being said, but by the tone of voice, she knew it was still very hostile. The only thing left to attempt was to try and actually talk to the guy and explain her position. This option of course, was holding a slim chance of working.
Sarah: Habla usted Inglés?
(subtitular: Do you speak English?)
This was about one of the only phrases Sarah actually knew in Spanish. And if these men didn't speak English, this entire endeavor just became THAT much more difficult. The cartel leader laughs a bit as he responds first to his comrades before addressing Sarah any further.
Cartel Member: Un americano. Cómo predecible que vienen aquí y no entienden.
(subtitular: An American. How predictable that they come here and do not understand.)
The other cartel members laugh as well and lower their weapons, seemingly easing the tension at least for the moment.
Cartel Member: What is it that you want Gringa? What business do you have with El demonio oscuro?
Sarah was relieved that the hostility had dropped to a minimum for the moment and proceeded to present her offer to the man.
Sarah: You're looking for this man, right? Perhaps I can tell you where he is.
Cartel Member: It would be wise of you to give me that information Gringa ... maybe we let you leave here with your life, comprende?
Sarah smirks, although in reality ... with the arsenal these men were carrying, they could very well make good on their threats. So she treads carefully with the subject.
Sarah: I intend to give you the information ... but what I really came here for is a different sort of business.
The man laughs again. It wasn't a common thing for these cartels to cater to American strangers. The drug trade was a billion dollar business and quantities were moved by the truckload, not small time local sales. However, this particular warehouse of the trade was a smaller scale one that mostly served as an in between point, so dealing smaller wasn't out of the question ... but dealing with an American was iffy at best.
Cartel Member: You looking for that polvo eh? What makes you think we would help you out Gringa?
Sarah: Because this man you're after ...
She motions again to the flyer.
Sarah: His friends ... you don't want them going back over the border, now do you? I can make sure that they don't ... I just need some product to make that happen.
The man looks intrigued, but still not sold on the idea. Handing over a brick of cocaine to a strange American woman who they had never met before seemed like some kind of trap.
Cartel Member: You give me the information now, and we'll think about it.
Sarah writes down an address for the man. It was the listing for a hotel where Night Rider was currently staying for his upcoming WCF appearances. The man looks at the address and laughs heartily. His gaze returns to Sarah.
Cartel Member: I know this place ... Pablo, he is finishing making a small delivery now. We will find out if this information is correct. If it is, we'll speak further ... if you lie to me ... you're dead.
The man removes a two way radio from his belt clip and begins speaking to someone with it.
Cartel Member: Pablo son todavía cerca del hotel ?
(subtitular: Pablo are you still near the hotel?)
After a few moments there is a response over the radio.
"Si."
Cartel Member: Dime si se puede ver el demonio oscuro en cualquier lugar cerca de allí. Tengo información que se le hospedaba allí.
(subtitular: Tell me if you can see the dark devil anywhere near there. I have information that he should be staying over there.)
Another several minutes go by and finally, Pablo responds once more over the radio.
Pablo: ¡No me lo puedo creer! Él está aquí , el diablo oscuro él está aquí !
(subtitular: I cannot believe it! He is here, the dark devil he is here!)
He had obviously spotted Night Rider somewhere at the hotel and mistaken him for the man in which they were looking for. The Cartel boss' eyes widen at the fact he'd been given accurate information. He responds to Pablo.
Cartel Member: Permanecer allí , no lo pierdas de vista! Vamos a llegar allí pronto.
(subtitular: Stay there, don't let him out of your sight! We will arrive there soon.)
The Cartel boss heads into the back room for a few moments and when he returns, he tosses Sarah a large brick of cocaine as gratitude for the information. He and his men gather up to head after their quarry.
Cartel Member: It looks like you get to live for today Gringa.
Sarah doesn't waste any time getting the fuck out of there with her newly acquired narcotics and hauls ass away from the building. We fade out here.
Saturday, April 30th, 2016
Mexico City, Mexico
En Route to Contramar Seafood Restaurant
8:51pm PST
A black 2016 Mustang GT convertible races along the streets of Mexico City as Sarah throws her phone down onto the passenger seat. She was obviously quite agitated as she yells out obscenities somehow directed at Andre Holmes who was not currently with her.
Sarah: Absolute fucking BULLSHIT! The blonde headed little girl scout bitch? Fuck you Andre ... fuck you. Hang up on me mother fucker? ... why the fuck did I even agree to this shit?
Sarah approaches the restaurant. It was a seafood joint with a very backwoods atmosphere to it judging the exterior of the place. Wooden paneling on even the outside. Sarah sighs heavily expecting that the main delicacy at a shithole of an establishment like this would be deep fried crawfish or some other weird shit. The more she looked over the restaurant, the more she became sick to her stomach at the thought of eating there. The place resembled the fucking Chum Bucket off of that Spongebob children's cartoon. Any appetite she may have had quickly vanished. Sarah VERY reluctantly pulls into the dirt and gravel parking lot and sighs as she turns the ignition to her car off. With a gritting of her teeth, she exits the vehicle and starts her way inside.
It's only about twenty minutes later when Sarah emerges from the establishment with nothing short of a rage in her eyes. Chaos had ensued and that was evidenced by the sounds of screaming and distress coming from within the place. Sarah climbs back into her Mustang and SLAMS the door behind her, suddenly a small beeping sound goes off on her phone. The momentary distraction is able to calm her tensions as she reaches into her pocket to have a look. Her eyes widen and immediately she begins laughing.
Sarah: Son of a bitch they actually did it. Those fucking retards did it!
What she was referring to of course was the GPS indicator that was alerting her that one of Oblivion, Night Rider or Freezer Burn's car was within five miles of her current location. This meant that her moronic, but useful role playing friends had done the job she'd asked them to.
Sarah: Now it's time to handle things my way.
Sarah peels out of the parking lot and screeches off in the direction that was indicated by her GPS tracking device. She leaves her wake of destruction behind her and leaves Andre Holmes and Crystal Knight there to clean up the mess. Next stop ... committing another felony.
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Ramada Reforma Hotel
9:26pm PST
The tires to Sarah's 2016 Mustang come to a screeching halt as she pulls up just behind a 2015 grey Honda Accord. She looks down at her phone which is by now going off like crazy indicating that this was exactly the spot that her target vehicle was located. She steps out of her own car and leans down, looking slightly underneath the Honda. Sure enough there was her tracking device, blinking every few seconds as it sent out its signal. Sarah grins devlishly as she prepares to get to work.
In Mexico City, it's never hard to find a criminal if you want one. With the drug trade dominating the majority of the country's economy, most people are willing to do whatever they have to to make a few pesos. Just outside of the parking garage to the Remada Reforma hotel, Sarah finds just such a person. A young Mexican man in his very early twenties who appeared to be begging for some cash. Sarah approaches him and after some difficult translation issues, she manages to offer him fifty dollars in American cash to break into a car for her. He obliges. It doesn't take him very long to gain access to the Honda, leaving everything looking very undisturbed and normal. Sarah hands him his fifty spot and he is quickly on his way, leaving the Mistress of Mischief to her evil deeds.
Sarah: Let's just be sure ...
Sarah opens the glove compartment and checks through the registration and insurance documents kept in the car. The car was registered and insured under one Stephen Johnson. This is the actual name of the man known to WCF fans as Oblivion. In WCF he may call himself whatever he likes, but on official documents, his real name is always listed. Sarah chuckles softly to herself as she confirmed the ownership of the vehicle.
Sarah: Well Stevie ... you're going to have one HELL of a time getting out of this shithole.
Already having access to the car, Sarah is easily able to pop the trunk from within and now her ultimate motives become clear. Sarah exits the Honda and retrieves the brick of cocaine from her own vehicle's trunk, placing it into Oblivion's trunk. She slams the trunk down and takes a moment to revel in the chaos she was creating moment by moment. Night Rider was being hunted by a bloodthirsty cartel ... and now Oblivion was merely a car ride away from being detained on smuggling charges. Everything was going according to plan. Sarah's emerald green eyes glisten with malice as our scene fades out.
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This Sunday, I step into the ring for one purpose. I don't care who my partners are. I don't care who my opponents are. My quest to once again become WCF World Heavyweight Champion begins here on this day. If that means tolerating some nauseating blonde bitch, that's what I will do. If that means working with Andre Holmes ... that is what I will do. The ends justify the means in every situation, every time. I do not like Crystal Knight and I do not like Andre Holmes ... but they are necessary for this opportunity in the form that it comes. I do not walk away from opportunity. I will do whatever it takes to raise my arm holding that world championshp once again. Crystal and Andre ... well they can be grateful for coming along on the ride.
My journey begins where three other journeys will end. Stephen Johnson ... the years have passed him by and he has not yet come to that realization. His mind has failed him a long time ago and his body will fail him now. When Stephen realized he was so completely pathetic he could not handle the realities of life, his mind created Ace Slaughter ... and when Ace Slaughter also became a FAILURE in life, he turned to Oblivion. How has that worked out for you so far Steve? You're just one big failure after another. You just haven't figured out that your mind can't create talent for which you have none. You have failed in life at every turn and Sunday shall be no different. Just like Hellimination when for the first time in your life ... you had momentum going in ... you had an advantage. Everyone was terrified of your retarded cult or Church of Dark Saints and you had everything up until the moment that Sarah Twilight stepped into the ring, knocked you on your ass and brought you back to reality. Every single moment that you have spent chasing after being noticed, every bit of attention you have craved has been overshadowed. You are not a monster ... you are not the fucking product of the deepest darkest pits of a man's psyche, you are not a product of euphoria ... you're just a man from Florida who can't handle life. Florida ... you know who lives in Florida? Old people ... people who are done with work and done with life. They live out the end of their days rotting and shriveling up until there is nothing left.
This is fitting for you being as you have just been wasting away and rotting within WCF for years. You may not feel that you are ready for retirement ... but I'm going to put you there anyway. The waste of human flesh known as Oblivion is going to be nothing more than a pile of decayed waste that is once again known as Stephen Johnson: Failure.
Then we have Night Rider ... a man who has tried to reinvent himself more times than Oblivion. I didn't think that was possible but you somehow managed to do it. Con-gratu-fucking-lations. You've had so many different "gangs" and tag partners that you give Adam Young a run for his money and that fucker has a factory down in Texas somewhere that he uses to clone eight thousand variations of himself! I mean seriously, with every new "Night Rider Gang" that springs up, I think you're trying to somehow find the formula for turning four members of the enhancement talent roster into one wrestler of any relevence. Enjoy your homecoming because after I am done with your stupid ass on Sunday that's exactly what you'll be doing ... staying HOME!
Oh and let's not forget Freezer Burn ... kid, I don't know a fucking thing about you and I don't really care. The one thing I do know is that you must have REALLY pissed off Seth Lerch somewhere along the way because he threw you on a team with two geriatric fucks and said "Good luck kid!" knowing full well you were going to have your ass handed to you. You sure as fuck aren't getting any help from those two Grumpy old Men looking mother fuckers you have as your partners. I mean if they even manage to drag their asses out to the ring with their walkers ... you're still fucked. You picked the WRONG fucking time to try and grab hold of an opportunity kid ... cause you're about to get stomped. If I happen to end your career a bit prematurely for you ... I'd say I was sorry but that would be a lie.
This is the fucking Trios Cup ... there's only room for one team at the top. This week, it sure as fuck ain't gonna me two old men and a baby. I'm taking this fucking thing all the way to the end. The rest of you can go fuck yourselves.
End.
What I have yet to do ... now that is where things get interesting.
Friday, April 29th, 2016
Interstate 805
Outskirts of San Ysidro, California
1:46pm PST
It had been just over forty eight hours since WCF Superstar, Sarah Twilight had returned home to her Hollywood Hills home. Almost six hours in the air coming in from Toronto, The Mistress of Mischief was not looking forward to spending another four hours in the air for her scheduled trip to Mexico City. Instead, Sarah opted to hop into her brand new 2016 black Mustang GT convertible and take the drive down herself. The breathtaking redhead sits comfortably against the leather driver's seat as she moves along slowly on Interstate 805 toward the United States/Mexico border. The convertible top is rolled down, wind blowing through her impeccable scarlet locks, and the radio turned up and tuned in to Channel 9-3-3, San Diego's hit music station. "Stressed Out" by Twenty One Pilots was the song currently being aired over the station and The Mistress of Mischief wasn't paying too much attention to it. The haughty redhead was wearing a simple black top with the self franchising phrase "The Only One" written across the breast of the tee, light blue denim jeans and a black pair of nike sneakers with white trim and swoosh. Her sterling silver pentacle twinkles brightly under the rays of sun beating down upon the Mustang and a pair of designer shades covers her eyes from the glare.
In the passenger seat beside her sat Andre Holmes, whom Sarah was begrudgingly giving a ride to. Unfortunately for the scarlet haired vixen, she actually needed Holmes to make it to Mexico for Slam if they were to have any shot of advancing in the Trios tournament. Andre gazes out to the right of him, checking on the scenery along the way ... as he finds himself lost in his own thoughts. The two haven't actually said much of anything to one another from the moment Sarah had picked Andre up a few short hours ago. The silence between them was amicable, as they were simply enjoying a peaceful ride. This method of travel may take longer than a simple flight, but the comforts, the freedom ... the traffic. As was a common occurrence, the hundreds upon hundreds of cars heading into Mexico came to a halt, leaving Sarah and Andre stuck waiting for an indeterminate amount of time to reach the border checkpoint. The flashing lights up ahead and swarms of officials were an indication that something was going down ... most likely someone caught trying to smuggle some illegal substances over the border. Sarah smiles as she casually shifts the car into park and rests her hands behind her head with a satisfied sigh escaping her lips. Andre turns to look at her, puzzled.
Andre Holmes: You know we're going to be stuck her for like an hour, right?
Sarah's smirk only increases as she looks out toward the east of her where the open fields of the Pacific Gateway Park were in plain view. Her smirk widens into a full on grin as she casually responds to Andre.
Sarah: Oh I'm well aware.
Andre looks a bit agitated at the prospect of sitting in the same spot for over an hour without moving anywhere. He runs his hand through his hair and can't comprehend why Sarah isn't flipping out about this situation herself.
Andre Holmes: One hour ... here, in this spot. Maybe longer. Are you even hearing me right now?
Sarah: I heard just fine the first time. Everything is working out exactly how it should.
Andre does a double take. How the hell could being stuck in traffic, just WAITING to get into Mexico be anything working out? As he tries to even grasp the situation and why Sarah would EVER think this was a good thing, he notices Sarah point out toward the park. Andre squints his eyes to help make out what he was supposed to be looking at, what with the glare of the sun against him. He finally is able to make out what Sarah was directing his attention at and it only causes his level of confusion to increase.
Andre Holmes: So what? There's a group of geeks hitting each other with plastic sticks.
Sarah begins to chuckle. She obviously knew something that Andre didn't. Or perhaps she'd just lost her fucking mind for all Andre knew.
Sarah: Exactly!
Andre continues to stare blankly at Sarah with an ever growing befuddled look upon his face.
Andre Holmes: What the hell do some goofy kids playing dress up have to do with me, or you, or the Trios?
Sarah reaches to the console, switching the radio off and flicking her hazard lights into the on position. She pushes open the door to the Mustang and seps out, reaching behind the driver's seat to remove a medium sized envelope. Andre is even more puzzled at what the hell was actually going on and instinctively, he too exits the vehicle if for no other reason than to see what exactly Sarah was up to. After having collected the envelope and whatever contents it contained, Sarah glances to Andre and finally answers his question. Well, as much of an answer as Andre was going to receive anyhow.
Sarah: You'll see.
She navigates her way inbetween the endless number of cars, trucks and sports utility vehicles congesting the highway and begins off toward the Pacific Gateway Park. Andre starts following after her, lingering behind by a bit as he was still somewhat hesitant to just leave the car unattended. Though as he looked around, several people were doing the same. Whether it was getting out to stretch or just walking off somewhere to do something it was entirely clear that the duration of this dead stop to traffic was going to last quite a while. As he makes his way around a tractor trailer he finds himself stepping into the grass. Ahead of him the open field that served as the very beginnings of the park. Sarah was still a bit ahead of him so he jogs to catch up to her. It was clear as day that she was heading directly for the group of live action role players that she'd pointed out to him a few moments ago. Upon catching up to her pace, he questions such a decision once again.
Andre Holmes: Look, Sarah ... I don't know what you like to do with your spare time. But I know one thing for certain, we don't have time to play Dungeons and Dragons with some kids. So will you please tell me what the actual fuck we're doing out here?
Sarah might have actually planned to respond to him. More than likely, she never had any intention of answering his persistently pestering questions. Though she never had to bother as a few of the role players notice Sarah and Andre walking in their direction. Excitedly, the group starts making their way toward the duo. The young teens were dressed in ridiculous garb. Wearing sheets as royal capes, plastic body armor and nerf lances and swords to complete this completely idiodic fairytale.
Kriemhilde: The Queen of Burgund! She has returned to us once more!
Sarah rolls her eyes at the fact that some three years later, these delusional retards were still referring to her as their Queen. Oh yes, Sarah had quite the history with these rag-tag role playing loons. It had all begun with a war waged against Odin Balfore a number of years ago ... but that was a tale for another place and time. Funny thing how history repeats itself ... Sarah finds herself just days from dismantling yet another set of aging, forgotten, and very dated stars ... and once again she finds herself on the receiving end of reverence and praise due her ... from a group of role players in a field. Andre is about to laugh as the young teenaged girl roleplayer had referred to Sarah as the Queen of ... something. That is until her male counterpart role player addresses Andre's presence.
Siegfried: And she has brought forth a King to rule our land at her side!
Sarah vehemently shakes her head at ANY notion that her and Andre were "together" or that he was a king of any sort.
Sarah: Nope. Never happening.
Andre Holmes: I dunno, I think they had it right the first time. King Andre, has a nice ring to it.
Sarah turns to Andre with a nasty glare as he revels in the fact he'd been referred to as a king by these Warcraft geeks.
Sarah: Didn't you just say you didn't have any time for Dungeons and Dragons bullshit?
Andre shrugs his shoulders.
Andre Holmes: Yeah, but that was before I got made into a king!
Sarah: You STILL aren't a king, and no ... we don't have time for this.
Andre Holmes: Then why are we even here?
Sarah sighs as if it should have been plainly obvious. She holds up the envelope in her left hand and waves it back and forth a few times in a gesture that was intended to make the light bulb go off inside of Andre's head.
Sarah: Business. That's why we're here ... business. Why the fuck else would I be here?
Andre scratches his head a few times. I mean sure, the envelope ... Sarah always taking her career very seriously ... it makes sense. But there was still one thing Holmes couldn't quite wrap his head around.
Andre Holmes: What kind of business do you possibly have with some high school kids playing weird games in a field?
Sarah turns her attention away from Andre and towards the role players. She hands the envelope to the one calling himself Siegfried.
Sarah: I need you to do something for me.
Siegfried bows before Sarah in humble acceptance of her request before she had even explained what it was she required them to do. Following this, in true role playing fashion, he turns to his fellow role players and addresses them, holding the envelope high above his head as if it were some mystical artifact of great importance.
Siegfried: Behold! Our Queen has tasked us with a duty of great importance! The fate of Burgund is at hand. We shall honor our great Queen and fulfill our duties to her kingdom and to her crown!
Kriemhilde: Of course! We shall honor the Queen even into death!
Andre Holmes: And king!
Everyone looks oddly at Andre and he just shrugs his shoulders, still not quite certain what to make of this situation. As the role players celebrate the fact that they'd been given a task by their "Queen", one of them doesn't look as enthusiastic and leans against a tree with his arms folded. Siegfried notices and approaches his friend.
Siegfried: Leonis ... have you forgotten our vow? We are forever indebted to the Queen as she brought prophecy to life. The Twilight of the Gods ... she vanquished the God of War, Odin! How can you dare stand here with such treasonist defiance?
The one known as Leonis responds ... however he isn't keeping to character like the rest of the nerds.
Leonis: The last time we did something for her ... we almost got arrested. I can't do it man ... can't do it.
Siegfried ironically enough drops character to in fact point out, that Leonis had dropped character.
Siegfried: Paul, what the hell are you doing? You're ruining everything!
Leonis: I don't care, Mark. I'm not going to jail.
As the two continue to bicker, Sarah's patience wears thin and she puts a stop to the argument.
Sarah: Just ... shut up! The both of you ... fucking hell. Just open the fucking envelope and do what I ask.
Siegfried apologizes and turns his attention to the envelope Sarah had given him. He tears it open and reaches inside, removing three photographs from within. His friends huddle around him and they look over the images they'd been handed. Kriemhilde looks up at Sarah and she queries the redhead.
Kriemhilde: Who are they?
The images in question are three headshots. The first one capturing the image of Oblivion, with the others being Night Rider and Freezer Burn respectively. Each image was printed from WCF.com and was the most recent photo respresentation of each star. The group of role players continue to circulate the photos among one another. Sarah does not bother to answer the question as to whom the men were, but rather she reaches into her pocket and retrieves a small device, also handing it to Siegfried.
Sarah: I need you to go over by the road, and when you see any of those three men approach the checkpoint to the border ... I need you to sneak over, and place this on, or in their car ... somehow. Don't care how, just that it gets done.
The role players look over the device and in their frenzied state of fantasy enduced euphoria, imagine it as some mystical otherwordly key sent down from the Gods only to be hand delivered to their own Queen. Now, she had handed it over to them as part of a Hero's Quest which would take them on the adventure of a lifetime. Or, to those of us living in the real world, she's handed them a GPS tracking device and for one reason or another, she wants them to plant said device onto one of her three upcoming opponent's cars.
Siegfried: We shall begin our journey at once m'lady! Come, we have much work to do in the name of Burgund! We shall stake out the road and we shall await the carriage which holds one of the three men our Queen seeks. We shall use the God's eye key with swiftness and place it upon thine carriage!
Sarah rolls her eyes as she turns away from the role players, now knowing they were going to do as she had told them to. She begins heading back toward her car as Andre turns and follows suit.
AndHolmes: I dunno what you're up to ... but I think I like it.
Sarah is simpering with the most ingratiating of expressions upon her face as the two continue toward the Mustang. We fade out.
Saturday, April 30th, 2016
Mexico City, Mexico
Downtown District West
7:38pm PST
It had been roughly a half an hour since Sarah Twilight had left Andre Holmes back at the Gran Hotel Ciudad De Mexico and things were finally beginning to shape up. Now that her extra baggage was settled up in his own hotel and no longer pestering her with a barrage of relentless questions, she could get down to business. Rather than immediately heading to her own hotel, she had a few things up her sleeve. The only problem was ... she wasn't exactly sure how to go about enacting the remainder of her plan. That is ... until fate stepped in and provided her with the answer. The downtown district of Mexico City is highly divided. To the east and the north were your luxury hotels, your tourist traps and basically everything you would expect to see on a breathtaking getaway in Mexico. The west and south districts however, those were places that tourists generally didn't spend much time visiting. And you mostly wouldn't want to. Several horror stories of American citizens wandering off into places they shouldn't be, and never being heard from again. Sarah didn't worry about any of that ... she was in the shadiest part of the city for a purpose and that purpose just wound up with a way to be fulfilled.
There in front of her on a worn out street pole was a sign ... basically a wanted sign. Despite it being posted in Spanish and despite Sarah not being fluent in the language, it was plain as day that this was a wanted sign ... except that it wasn't posted by any official government entity. In these parts, the cartels make it known publicly whom they have a bounty on, and generally Mexican officials don't interfere in such matters either out of fear, or because they are owned and paid for by the cartels. Sarah takes quite a bit of interest in this particular sign as the picture on the worn down paper kinda resembled Night Rider ... if Night Rider were Mexican. The hair style, the facial hair ... it was all there, just slightly darker complexion and of course darker hair. The resemblance was too striking to ignore and Sarah slowly pulls her car to a stop next to the pole and retrieves the flyer.
Having the bounty claim with her, she now began her REAL search and drove around, paying close attention to her surroundings. In such a seedy area, it doesn't take long for her to find exactly what she was looking for. With several derelicts hanging around one particlar structure, she knew this was where her travels had lead her. The stench of death filled the air surrounding the decrepit structure which by all accounts would appear to be abandoned to mostly anyone else. But when you're looking for trouble ... you know where to find it. Sarah pulls the top to her car up before exiting the vehicle and locking up behind her. She takes the bounty note with her and makes her way into the building.
The moment she walks into the main room of the small, hidden "gem" of a structure, she is greeted with several semi-automatic guns being drawn and pointed at her. Men yell at her in Spanish and of course she has no idea what they are even saying. It was quite apparent she'd entered an area controlled by the cartel, and they were not happy that she was intruding.
Cartel Member: qué haces aquí perra blanca ? No eres bienvenido aquí , salir ahora o que no tendrá su vida.
(subtitular: what are you doing here white bitch? you are not welcome here, leave now or you will not have your life.)
Sarah tilts her head slightly as of course, she didn't understand any of that. However, she was smart enough to know that with the number of gun barrels pointed in her direction, that it wasn't something friendly. She holds up the bounty flyer in an effort to gain some type of common ground with the men. The action almost causes a few loose triggers to jump the shark, but luckily for her they do not. The apparent leader of the group addresses Sarah once again when she shows them the flyer.
Cartel Member: El demonio oscuro, qué negocio tiene usted con él? Aquí se viene a insultarnos ? burlarse de nosotros ? Debería colocar una bala en la cabeza!
(subtitular: The dark devil, what business do you have with him? You come here to insult us? Mock us? I should place a bullet in your head!)
Sarah still had no clue what was being said, but by the tone of voice, she knew it was still very hostile. The only thing left to attempt was to try and actually talk to the guy and explain her position. This option of course, was holding a slim chance of working.
Sarah: Habla usted Inglés?
(subtitular: Do you speak English?)
This was about one of the only phrases Sarah actually knew in Spanish. And if these men didn't speak English, this entire endeavor just became THAT much more difficult. The cartel leader laughs a bit as he responds first to his comrades before addressing Sarah any further.
Cartel Member: Un americano. Cómo predecible que vienen aquí y no entienden.
(subtitular: An American. How predictable that they come here and do not understand.)
The other cartel members laugh as well and lower their weapons, seemingly easing the tension at least for the moment.
Cartel Member: What is it that you want Gringa? What business do you have with El demonio oscuro?
Sarah was relieved that the hostility had dropped to a minimum for the moment and proceeded to present her offer to the man.
Sarah: You're looking for this man, right? Perhaps I can tell you where he is.
Cartel Member: It would be wise of you to give me that information Gringa ... maybe we let you leave here with your life, comprende?
Sarah smirks, although in reality ... with the arsenal these men were carrying, they could very well make good on their threats. So she treads carefully with the subject.
Sarah: I intend to give you the information ... but what I really came here for is a different sort of business.
The man laughs again. It wasn't a common thing for these cartels to cater to American strangers. The drug trade was a billion dollar business and quantities were moved by the truckload, not small time local sales. However, this particular warehouse of the trade was a smaller scale one that mostly served as an in between point, so dealing smaller wasn't out of the question ... but dealing with an American was iffy at best.
Cartel Member: You looking for that polvo eh? What makes you think we would help you out Gringa?
Sarah: Because this man you're after ...
She motions again to the flyer.
Sarah: His friends ... you don't want them going back over the border, now do you? I can make sure that they don't ... I just need some product to make that happen.
The man looks intrigued, but still not sold on the idea. Handing over a brick of cocaine to a strange American woman who they had never met before seemed like some kind of trap.
Cartel Member: You give me the information now, and we'll think about it.
Sarah writes down an address for the man. It was the listing for a hotel where Night Rider was currently staying for his upcoming WCF appearances. The man looks at the address and laughs heartily. His gaze returns to Sarah.
Cartel Member: I know this place ... Pablo, he is finishing making a small delivery now. We will find out if this information is correct. If it is, we'll speak further ... if you lie to me ... you're dead.
The man removes a two way radio from his belt clip and begins speaking to someone with it.
Cartel Member: Pablo son todavía cerca del hotel ?
(subtitular: Pablo are you still near the hotel?)
After a few moments there is a response over the radio.
"Si."
Cartel Member: Dime si se puede ver el demonio oscuro en cualquier lugar cerca de allí. Tengo información que se le hospedaba allí.
(subtitular: Tell me if you can see the dark devil anywhere near there. I have information that he should be staying over there.)
Another several minutes go by and finally, Pablo responds once more over the radio.
Pablo: ¡No me lo puedo creer! Él está aquí , el diablo oscuro él está aquí !
(subtitular: I cannot believe it! He is here, the dark devil he is here!)
He had obviously spotted Night Rider somewhere at the hotel and mistaken him for the man in which they were looking for. The Cartel boss' eyes widen at the fact he'd been given accurate information. He responds to Pablo.
Cartel Member: Permanecer allí , no lo pierdas de vista! Vamos a llegar allí pronto.
(subtitular: Stay there, don't let him out of your sight! We will arrive there soon.)
The Cartel boss heads into the back room for a few moments and when he returns, he tosses Sarah a large brick of cocaine as gratitude for the information. He and his men gather up to head after their quarry.
Cartel Member: It looks like you get to live for today Gringa.
Sarah doesn't waste any time getting the fuck out of there with her newly acquired narcotics and hauls ass away from the building. We fade out here.
Saturday, April 30th, 2016
Mexico City, Mexico
En Route to Contramar Seafood Restaurant
8:51pm PST
A black 2016 Mustang GT convertible races along the streets of Mexico City as Sarah throws her phone down onto the passenger seat. She was obviously quite agitated as she yells out obscenities somehow directed at Andre Holmes who was not currently with her.
Sarah: Absolute fucking BULLSHIT! The blonde headed little girl scout bitch? Fuck you Andre ... fuck you. Hang up on me mother fucker? ... why the fuck did I even agree to this shit?
Sarah approaches the restaurant. It was a seafood joint with a very backwoods atmosphere to it judging the exterior of the place. Wooden paneling on even the outside. Sarah sighs heavily expecting that the main delicacy at a shithole of an establishment like this would be deep fried crawfish or some other weird shit. The more she looked over the restaurant, the more she became sick to her stomach at the thought of eating there. The place resembled the fucking Chum Bucket off of that Spongebob children's cartoon. Any appetite she may have had quickly vanished. Sarah VERY reluctantly pulls into the dirt and gravel parking lot and sighs as she turns the ignition to her car off. With a gritting of her teeth, she exits the vehicle and starts her way inside.
It's only about twenty minutes later when Sarah emerges from the establishment with nothing short of a rage in her eyes. Chaos had ensued and that was evidenced by the sounds of screaming and distress coming from within the place. Sarah climbs back into her Mustang and SLAMS the door behind her, suddenly a small beeping sound goes off on her phone. The momentary distraction is able to calm her tensions as she reaches into her pocket to have a look. Her eyes widen and immediately she begins laughing.
Sarah: Son of a bitch they actually did it. Those fucking retards did it!
What she was referring to of course was the GPS indicator that was alerting her that one of Oblivion, Night Rider or Freezer Burn's car was within five miles of her current location. This meant that her moronic, but useful role playing friends had done the job she'd asked them to.
Sarah: Now it's time to handle things my way.
Sarah peels out of the parking lot and screeches off in the direction that was indicated by her GPS tracking device. She leaves her wake of destruction behind her and leaves Andre Holmes and Crystal Knight there to clean up the mess. Next stop ... committing another felony.
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Ramada Reforma Hotel
9:26pm PST
The tires to Sarah's 2016 Mustang come to a screeching halt as she pulls up just behind a 2015 grey Honda Accord. She looks down at her phone which is by now going off like crazy indicating that this was exactly the spot that her target vehicle was located. She steps out of her own car and leans down, looking slightly underneath the Honda. Sure enough there was her tracking device, blinking every few seconds as it sent out its signal. Sarah grins devlishly as she prepares to get to work.
In Mexico City, it's never hard to find a criminal if you want one. With the drug trade dominating the majority of the country's economy, most people are willing to do whatever they have to to make a few pesos. Just outside of the parking garage to the Remada Reforma hotel, Sarah finds just such a person. A young Mexican man in his very early twenties who appeared to be begging for some cash. Sarah approaches him and after some difficult translation issues, she manages to offer him fifty dollars in American cash to break into a car for her. He obliges. It doesn't take him very long to gain access to the Honda, leaving everything looking very undisturbed and normal. Sarah hands him his fifty spot and he is quickly on his way, leaving the Mistress of Mischief to her evil deeds.
Sarah: Let's just be sure ...
Sarah opens the glove compartment and checks through the registration and insurance documents kept in the car. The car was registered and insured under one Stephen Johnson. This is the actual name of the man known to WCF fans as Oblivion. In WCF he may call himself whatever he likes, but on official documents, his real name is always listed. Sarah chuckles softly to herself as she confirmed the ownership of the vehicle.
Sarah: Well Stevie ... you're going to have one HELL of a time getting out of this shithole.
Already having access to the car, Sarah is easily able to pop the trunk from within and now her ultimate motives become clear. Sarah exits the Honda and retrieves the brick of cocaine from her own vehicle's trunk, placing it into Oblivion's trunk. She slams the trunk down and takes a moment to revel in the chaos she was creating moment by moment. Night Rider was being hunted by a bloodthirsty cartel ... and now Oblivion was merely a car ride away from being detained on smuggling charges. Everything was going according to plan. Sarah's emerald green eyes glisten with malice as our scene fades out.
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This Sunday, I step into the ring for one purpose. I don't care who my partners are. I don't care who my opponents are. My quest to once again become WCF World Heavyweight Champion begins here on this day. If that means tolerating some nauseating blonde bitch, that's what I will do. If that means working with Andre Holmes ... that is what I will do. The ends justify the means in every situation, every time. I do not like Crystal Knight and I do not like Andre Holmes ... but they are necessary for this opportunity in the form that it comes. I do not walk away from opportunity. I will do whatever it takes to raise my arm holding that world championshp once again. Crystal and Andre ... well they can be grateful for coming along on the ride.
My journey begins where three other journeys will end. Stephen Johnson ... the years have passed him by and he has not yet come to that realization. His mind has failed him a long time ago and his body will fail him now. When Stephen realized he was so completely pathetic he could not handle the realities of life, his mind created Ace Slaughter ... and when Ace Slaughter also became a FAILURE in life, he turned to Oblivion. How has that worked out for you so far Steve? You're just one big failure after another. You just haven't figured out that your mind can't create talent for which you have none. You have failed in life at every turn and Sunday shall be no different. Just like Hellimination when for the first time in your life ... you had momentum going in ... you had an advantage. Everyone was terrified of your retarded cult or Church of Dark Saints and you had everything up until the moment that Sarah Twilight stepped into the ring, knocked you on your ass and brought you back to reality. Every single moment that you have spent chasing after being noticed, every bit of attention you have craved has been overshadowed. You are not a monster ... you are not the fucking product of the deepest darkest pits of a man's psyche, you are not a product of euphoria ... you're just a man from Florida who can't handle life. Florida ... you know who lives in Florida? Old people ... people who are done with work and done with life. They live out the end of their days rotting and shriveling up until there is nothing left.
This is fitting for you being as you have just been wasting away and rotting within WCF for years. You may not feel that you are ready for retirement ... but I'm going to put you there anyway. The waste of human flesh known as Oblivion is going to be nothing more than a pile of decayed waste that is once again known as Stephen Johnson: Failure.
Then we have Night Rider ... a man who has tried to reinvent himself more times than Oblivion. I didn't think that was possible but you somehow managed to do it. Con-gratu-fucking-lations. You've had so many different "gangs" and tag partners that you give Adam Young a run for his money and that fucker has a factory down in Texas somewhere that he uses to clone eight thousand variations of himself! I mean seriously, with every new "Night Rider Gang" that springs up, I think you're trying to somehow find the formula for turning four members of the enhancement talent roster into one wrestler of any relevence. Enjoy your homecoming because after I am done with your stupid ass on Sunday that's exactly what you'll be doing ... staying HOME!
Oh and let's not forget Freezer Burn ... kid, I don't know a fucking thing about you and I don't really care. The one thing I do know is that you must have REALLY pissed off Seth Lerch somewhere along the way because he threw you on a team with two geriatric fucks and said "Good luck kid!" knowing full well you were going to have your ass handed to you. You sure as fuck aren't getting any help from those two Grumpy old Men looking mother fuckers you have as your partners. I mean if they even manage to drag their asses out to the ring with their walkers ... you're still fucked. You picked the WRONG fucking time to try and grab hold of an opportunity kid ... cause you're about to get stomped. If I happen to end your career a bit prematurely for you ... I'd say I was sorry but that would be a lie.
This is the fucking Trios Cup ... there's only room for one team at the top. This week, it sure as fuck ain't gonna me two old men and a baby. I'm taking this fucking thing all the way to the end. The rest of you can go fuck yourselves.
End.
