-Business- (X Wolf)
Apr 24, 2020 10:06:41 GMT -5
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Post by somethingwicked on Apr 24, 2020 10:06:41 GMT -5
“The Hardest Fights are the ones worth losing…”
Footage of Xavier Wolf leveling his own brother with a shovel plays from several angles, from HD cameras to cell phone footage, to news reports. A shockwave sent through the wrestling community as well as the sports world as a whole. Shots of talking heads on youtube, reaction videos, and streams of comments on reddit as well as Facebook, instagram, and others fly by at breakneck speed. Most not at all pleased. The footage slows and we see the face of James Primbook, the end all be all of wrestling journalists if you ask anyone that happens to be James Primbook. Seated behind a desk located most likely in his basement, he leans toward the camera and tries to make his point even clearer than he already has.
“Let me repeat this, make it crystal clear. I’ve called this man, Xavier, once Marke now Wolf, the Wild Child, the masked man E, and any other personality he’s taken, to be the absolute lowest form of life this business has ever seen. I called it when he lead a group of people far better than himself in that wildly terribly named Masters Of Mayhem, and I’m calling it now. Wherever he is, after the display, the heinous act he commited against his own brother, Finally for the first time in his terrible life, Xavier is filled with more regret than any human has ever been before. Mark my words, that is one sad wolf.”
We cut away from James and find Xavier Wolf seated on a bed, a bottle of champagne in one hand, and the leg of Le'andra Fury in the other. Each is wrapped in a sheet that covers their not safe for wrestling parts and pieces. Le’ bites her lip as Xavier fills his mouth with champagne, and places her toe in his mouth, tickling her with the bubbles before laughing so hard that the champagne pops out all over her foot.
“That’s a very expensive bottle of champagne you’re wasting on my foot.” Le’ said, smiling between the words. “Perhaps it would be better to lap it up from someplace else.”
“You don’t s-” Xavier began to say when Le’andra puts her foot to his mouth, silencing him with her big toe.
“Allow me to do you the favor of stopping whatever crashness was set to be unleashed.”
“Now, now, Mrs. Wolf...I do some of my best work unleashed.” Xavier said with a wink. Before either of them could speak a violent knock at the door disrupts their thoughts. Xavier, recognizing the knock, stands up, and walks across the room. His penis blurred, and stretching down past his knee, he opens the door and walks in his employees. Nez, the angry lesbian sponsor and close friend, and Spitz, the former meth head biker who is now his sponsee. They walk in looking rather distressed and frantic. Xavier, who is probably more relaxed than he’s been in years, suddenly takes on a much more recognizable expression, and cements his face into his familiar scowl.
“What?” He blurts. “What is so important?”
“You got company. Two Guys. One is that Preston cat, the other I don’t know.” She says, taking a swig from the champagne bottle before handing it to Spitz who does the same. “Hey, Le’. How they hanging?” Nez says with a smile.
“Exposed. Why are you here?”
“Business. It’ll only be a second. Why don’t you take a shower and i’ll come join you in a second?” Xavier says, smiling widely.
Le’andra looks to her husband and copies his scowl, before walking away and vanishing into the bathroom. Spitz watches her walk away and turns to Xavier, who is now close enough to him to almost be behind him.
“Like the view?”
“....yes.”
“Last time you look or it’s the last thing you see.”
“...yes.”
Xavier walks back to the door, and swings it open, just as Roger Wright, and Dane Preston, are about to knock. Inviting them in, Xavier grabs a pair of pants and pulls them on, as the four others in the room look at each other.
“Son of a bitch…” Preston says, lunging across the room toward Spitz. Spitz ducks behind Nez, and throws his hands up, desperate to avoid the asskicking he isn’t sure what he did to deserve.
“DU! I don’t even know you! The fuck!?” Spitz says, still bracing for a hit.
“You took me hostage at gunpoint, asshole!. Made me fix your fucking bike!”
“oohhh...Oh yeahh!! How you doing, du?”
“..how..HOW...Are you…” Dane throws his arms up and walks away, absolutely flabbergasted at the man. “What the fuck.”
“Relax, Dane. I’ll explain sometime. But right now, I need to know why you’re here.”
“I needed to know.” Roger said. “This true? You with them now?”
“It’s as close to the truth as one can get, Rahj.” Xavier said, adjusting himself in the crotch of the pants. “Tell me you didn’t come all this way just to verify?”
“I wish I could. I wish I could say that the guy who went out of his way to not rob me of my title in the past, the guy who backed me up when he had every reason to tear me down, wasn’t making the mistake he’s making. Since you went out of your way in the past, I figured I’d go out of my way for you in return. For the record, I’m sorry.”
“For the record, I don’t really give a fuck. I told you back then, I didn’t spare you, for you. I spared you for me. Because when I do something, I don’t want anyone or anything, fucking with that at all. When I want something, I don’t wait for it to be handed. I come and take it. Maybe the hand holding it, too.” Xavier points to the door. “So do us all a favor and stop romanticizing what this is. We ain’t in love, Roger. But if you keep it up, I will fuck you.”
Roger nods and signals Dane. Roger wants to say more, but Roger is a smart man. And now he sees the truth of the situation. Dane kinda scoffs at the idea that he takes orders, but he’s also hyper sensitive about seeing the guy who took him hostage again, so he leaves without commenting.
“Hey Dane.” Xavier says as Dane exits the room.
“Yeah, Dick?”
“How's my leftovers?”
Xavier slams the door shut and listens to the curses coming out of Preston’s mouth as Roger most likely pulls him away. Xavier laughs a little to himself, and as he looks to his employees, they seem confused. He considers telling them of the contractual ramifications of fighting with other OPW employees outside of the confines of OPW territory. How a fight you’re not charging for is almost considered stealing. He thinks about it, but doesn’t. Because fuck the both of them anyway.
“Alright, so when I told you two to keep an eye on the lobby, I didn’t fucking mean retired wrestlers that couldn’t take me to dinner. I meant my fucking brother. Now get back to your post. And stop drinking my fucking booze.”
Spitz takes one more swig and winks at Xavier, who nods at him to take it with him. Nez walks by and receives a kiss on the top of her head. Spitz stops for one as well but gets a kick to the ass instead. Slamming the door shut, Xavier walks to the rear of the room, and leans in the doorway. Posed in a steamy stand up shower, Le’andra Wolf-Fury exists behind the blur of moist glass. Her body nothing more than a shape, but what a shape it is. Xavier moistens his lips with his tongue, and steps up the the shower, opens the door, and gets in. He pulls her close, pressing her body against his, and kisses her deeply. It’s a kiss that can not make up for the years apart, the years of silence, but it is a kiss that intends to try. She pulls away, and looks at the dripping face of her husand, and looks deeply into his eyes.
“Why are you wearing pants in this shower?”
“What can I say. You motivated me to forget.”
We fade away from a moment, and a moment later we return. Xavier, now dressed in his typical torn up band shirt and ripped up jeans that resemble shorts more than pants, emerges from the lobby of the hotel. He looks to the valet, who is on the phone and looking at Xavier with worry. It’s then that Xavier realizes what he’s about to be told, as his voice carries over from beyond, to tell us something else entirely.
“Things change in this business quickly. It’s the nature of the beast. The beast is fickle and unpredictable. The beast picks and chooses who it desires and who it despises almost daily, if not more frequently. But the beast being what it is, It does love a sacrifice. Something that shows the beast and all it’s parts, that you are willing to do anything, be anyone, to feed it. And if there is anyone in this business who has proved that more than me, I don’t want to meet that person. I want to beat that person. So feel free to speak up.”
Xavier is approached by a security agent who explains something inaudible to him. As the man shows Xavier toward a back door to the parking area, we continue to listen to X’s voice over.
“I can’t say for sure who that person might be, but I know who it ain’t. It ain’t...Eoin O’rourke? Is that a mistake by the way? Is your name actually Erin? Or...I mean its cool, your name is mostly vowels. Which quite honestly, is probably going to be the only memorable thing about you. That and me. Actually. Let me go ahead and say it now. You’’re welcome. You’re welcome for the gift that I’m giving you. For the rest of your life, you’re gonna be a fucking trivia question. Who did the great and mighty Xavier Wolf face the week after turning on his fraternal twin brother? Some douchebag named...Eoin. Eoin one day, out the fucking next.”
Xavier and the security agent step over a firehouse laid on the floor, and move past several fire fighters standing to the side, looking into the camera like the jerkoffs they are.
“I honestly don’t know what to even say to you, Owen with an E-O. Usually, I don’t get out of bed for a midcard. Usually I ignore people like yourself. People who come into this business for the blink of a fucking eye, like yourself. Some half ass asshole who was encouraged by some other halfassed asshat to pursue their dream of being a fighter. Some of us, Old Mcdonald E-I-E-I-O-N are not here to achieve it, tho. Some of us are here to pursue it, only to be the fucking punching bags for those who shall. You wanna take a guess at which one you are? I’ll give you a fucking hint. Google me. And then google you. You’re gonna get 400 reasons why I’m a legend and a 404 error code just from your fucking name.”
Xavier stops and takes a deep breath. He smiles and shakes his head slowly.
“So say what you wanna say. You might have said some shit already. Honestly I’ve had my nose buried in some...wife. But I’m sure it was eloquent and classy and perfectly fitting of your last fucking words in this business. I’ve got bigger dogs to hunt.”
We spin around to find that Xavier is looking on the remains of his 1970’s style van. The tires slashed, all the windows broken, and axe marks all over the vehicle. The Firefighters are spreading some sort of material on the ground in what seems to be the gasoline that has either been poured or spilled. The Chief,a portly man with a handlebar mustache steps up and begins to explian to Xavier what he feels happened.
“..So that’s pretty much that. I’d say this is less of an arson thing and more of a theft. So you’re gonna have to talk to the cops. I mean you’d have to talk to them anyway. Fuck. Forgive me. Long night.”
“Why Theft?” Xavier asked, his facial expression never changing.
“Well, the engine is gone.”
“Oh, I took that out yesterday.”
“...wait…” the security manager said, confused. “You had this towed here because you said it died on you.”
“Yeah cars tend to die when you remove the engine.” X explains with a smirk.
“So someone took an axe to your van, tried to set it on fire, failed, broke all the windows the day after you took out the engine? Insurance isn’t gonna cover any of this.”
“I don’t have insurance. Besides, this isn’t that big of a deal.”
“This is vandalism, possible theft, attempted arson, and...it isn’t that big of a deal?”
“Nah. It’s just business.” Xavier texts quickly and nods to the gentleman looking at him baffled. “Guys my assistant is gonna come down here, She’ll handle any issues you might need assistance with. Thanks again.”
As he walks away, Xavier puts the phone to his ear and a scowl comes across his face. “Nez. Face tat trashed my van, as we predicted. Make it right with the hotel, make it right with the fdny and by all means. Get me the fucking security footage. Do not see me without it.”
Xavier pulls the phone away and presses the button. In moments like this he misses the ability to clap the phone shut. To physically effect something in order to feel better, if only for a second. Perhaps he’ll buy a burner flip. Or perhaps he’ll just take it out on O’Rourke.
“This fight isn’t worthing losing. It’s barely worth having at all.”
Footage of Xavier Wolf leveling his own brother with a shovel plays from several angles, from HD cameras to cell phone footage, to news reports. A shockwave sent through the wrestling community as well as the sports world as a whole. Shots of talking heads on youtube, reaction videos, and streams of comments on reddit as well as Facebook, instagram, and others fly by at breakneck speed. Most not at all pleased. The footage slows and we see the face of James Primbook, the end all be all of wrestling journalists if you ask anyone that happens to be James Primbook. Seated behind a desk located most likely in his basement, he leans toward the camera and tries to make his point even clearer than he already has.
“Let me repeat this, make it crystal clear. I’ve called this man, Xavier, once Marke now Wolf, the Wild Child, the masked man E, and any other personality he’s taken, to be the absolute lowest form of life this business has ever seen. I called it when he lead a group of people far better than himself in that wildly terribly named Masters Of Mayhem, and I’m calling it now. Wherever he is, after the display, the heinous act he commited against his own brother, Finally for the first time in his terrible life, Xavier is filled with more regret than any human has ever been before. Mark my words, that is one sad wolf.”
We cut away from James and find Xavier Wolf seated on a bed, a bottle of champagne in one hand, and the leg of Le'andra Fury in the other. Each is wrapped in a sheet that covers their not safe for wrestling parts and pieces. Le’ bites her lip as Xavier fills his mouth with champagne, and places her toe in his mouth, tickling her with the bubbles before laughing so hard that the champagne pops out all over her foot.
“That’s a very expensive bottle of champagne you’re wasting on my foot.” Le’ said, smiling between the words. “Perhaps it would be better to lap it up from someplace else.”
“You don’t s-” Xavier began to say when Le’andra puts her foot to his mouth, silencing him with her big toe.
“Allow me to do you the favor of stopping whatever crashness was set to be unleashed.”
“Now, now, Mrs. Wolf...I do some of my best work unleashed.” Xavier said with a wink. Before either of them could speak a violent knock at the door disrupts their thoughts. Xavier, recognizing the knock, stands up, and walks across the room. His penis blurred, and stretching down past his knee, he opens the door and walks in his employees. Nez, the angry lesbian sponsor and close friend, and Spitz, the former meth head biker who is now his sponsee. They walk in looking rather distressed and frantic. Xavier, who is probably more relaxed than he’s been in years, suddenly takes on a much more recognizable expression, and cements his face into his familiar scowl.
“What?” He blurts. “What is so important?”
“You got company. Two Guys. One is that Preston cat, the other I don’t know.” She says, taking a swig from the champagne bottle before handing it to Spitz who does the same. “Hey, Le’. How they hanging?” Nez says with a smile.
“Exposed. Why are you here?”
“Business. It’ll only be a second. Why don’t you take a shower and i’ll come join you in a second?” Xavier says, smiling widely.
Le’andra looks to her husband and copies his scowl, before walking away and vanishing into the bathroom. Spitz watches her walk away and turns to Xavier, who is now close enough to him to almost be behind him.
“Like the view?”
“....yes.”
“Last time you look or it’s the last thing you see.”
“...yes.”
Xavier walks back to the door, and swings it open, just as Roger Wright, and Dane Preston, are about to knock. Inviting them in, Xavier grabs a pair of pants and pulls them on, as the four others in the room look at each other.
“Son of a bitch…” Preston says, lunging across the room toward Spitz. Spitz ducks behind Nez, and throws his hands up, desperate to avoid the asskicking he isn’t sure what he did to deserve.
“DU! I don’t even know you! The fuck!?” Spitz says, still bracing for a hit.
“You took me hostage at gunpoint, asshole!. Made me fix your fucking bike!”
“oohhh...Oh yeahh!! How you doing, du?”
“..how..HOW...Are you…” Dane throws his arms up and walks away, absolutely flabbergasted at the man. “What the fuck.”
“Relax, Dane. I’ll explain sometime. But right now, I need to know why you’re here.”
“I needed to know.” Roger said. “This true? You with them now?”
“It’s as close to the truth as one can get, Rahj.” Xavier said, adjusting himself in the crotch of the pants. “Tell me you didn’t come all this way just to verify?”
“I wish I could. I wish I could say that the guy who went out of his way to not rob me of my title in the past, the guy who backed me up when he had every reason to tear me down, wasn’t making the mistake he’s making. Since you went out of your way in the past, I figured I’d go out of my way for you in return. For the record, I’m sorry.”
“For the record, I don’t really give a fuck. I told you back then, I didn’t spare you, for you. I spared you for me. Because when I do something, I don’t want anyone or anything, fucking with that at all. When I want something, I don’t wait for it to be handed. I come and take it. Maybe the hand holding it, too.” Xavier points to the door. “So do us all a favor and stop romanticizing what this is. We ain’t in love, Roger. But if you keep it up, I will fuck you.”
Roger nods and signals Dane. Roger wants to say more, but Roger is a smart man. And now he sees the truth of the situation. Dane kinda scoffs at the idea that he takes orders, but he’s also hyper sensitive about seeing the guy who took him hostage again, so he leaves without commenting.
“Hey Dane.” Xavier says as Dane exits the room.
“Yeah, Dick?”
“How's my leftovers?”
Xavier slams the door shut and listens to the curses coming out of Preston’s mouth as Roger most likely pulls him away. Xavier laughs a little to himself, and as he looks to his employees, they seem confused. He considers telling them of the contractual ramifications of fighting with other OPW employees outside of the confines of OPW territory. How a fight you’re not charging for is almost considered stealing. He thinks about it, but doesn’t. Because fuck the both of them anyway.
“Alright, so when I told you two to keep an eye on the lobby, I didn’t fucking mean retired wrestlers that couldn’t take me to dinner. I meant my fucking brother. Now get back to your post. And stop drinking my fucking booze.”
Spitz takes one more swig and winks at Xavier, who nods at him to take it with him. Nez walks by and receives a kiss on the top of her head. Spitz stops for one as well but gets a kick to the ass instead. Slamming the door shut, Xavier walks to the rear of the room, and leans in the doorway. Posed in a steamy stand up shower, Le’andra Wolf-Fury exists behind the blur of moist glass. Her body nothing more than a shape, but what a shape it is. Xavier moistens his lips with his tongue, and steps up the the shower, opens the door, and gets in. He pulls her close, pressing her body against his, and kisses her deeply. It’s a kiss that can not make up for the years apart, the years of silence, but it is a kiss that intends to try. She pulls away, and looks at the dripping face of her husand, and looks deeply into his eyes.
“Why are you wearing pants in this shower?”
“What can I say. You motivated me to forget.”
We fade away from a moment, and a moment later we return. Xavier, now dressed in his typical torn up band shirt and ripped up jeans that resemble shorts more than pants, emerges from the lobby of the hotel. He looks to the valet, who is on the phone and looking at Xavier with worry. It’s then that Xavier realizes what he’s about to be told, as his voice carries over from beyond, to tell us something else entirely.
“Things change in this business quickly. It’s the nature of the beast. The beast is fickle and unpredictable. The beast picks and chooses who it desires and who it despises almost daily, if not more frequently. But the beast being what it is, It does love a sacrifice. Something that shows the beast and all it’s parts, that you are willing to do anything, be anyone, to feed it. And if there is anyone in this business who has proved that more than me, I don’t want to meet that person. I want to beat that person. So feel free to speak up.”
Xavier is approached by a security agent who explains something inaudible to him. As the man shows Xavier toward a back door to the parking area, we continue to listen to X’s voice over.
“I can’t say for sure who that person might be, but I know who it ain’t. It ain’t...Eoin O’rourke? Is that a mistake by the way? Is your name actually Erin? Or...I mean its cool, your name is mostly vowels. Which quite honestly, is probably going to be the only memorable thing about you. That and me. Actually. Let me go ahead and say it now. You’’re welcome. You’re welcome for the gift that I’m giving you. For the rest of your life, you’re gonna be a fucking trivia question. Who did the great and mighty Xavier Wolf face the week after turning on his fraternal twin brother? Some douchebag named...Eoin. Eoin one day, out the fucking next.”
Xavier and the security agent step over a firehouse laid on the floor, and move past several fire fighters standing to the side, looking into the camera like the jerkoffs they are.
“I honestly don’t know what to even say to you, Owen with an E-O. Usually, I don’t get out of bed for a midcard. Usually I ignore people like yourself. People who come into this business for the blink of a fucking eye, like yourself. Some half ass asshole who was encouraged by some other halfassed asshat to pursue their dream of being a fighter. Some of us, Old Mcdonald E-I-E-I-O-N are not here to achieve it, tho. Some of us are here to pursue it, only to be the fucking punching bags for those who shall. You wanna take a guess at which one you are? I’ll give you a fucking hint. Google me. And then google you. You’re gonna get 400 reasons why I’m a legend and a 404 error code just from your fucking name.”
Xavier stops and takes a deep breath. He smiles and shakes his head slowly.
“So say what you wanna say. You might have said some shit already. Honestly I’ve had my nose buried in some...wife. But I’m sure it was eloquent and classy and perfectly fitting of your last fucking words in this business. I’ve got bigger dogs to hunt.”
We spin around to find that Xavier is looking on the remains of his 1970’s style van. The tires slashed, all the windows broken, and axe marks all over the vehicle. The Firefighters are spreading some sort of material on the ground in what seems to be the gasoline that has either been poured or spilled. The Chief,a portly man with a handlebar mustache steps up and begins to explian to Xavier what he feels happened.
“..So that’s pretty much that. I’d say this is less of an arson thing and more of a theft. So you’re gonna have to talk to the cops. I mean you’d have to talk to them anyway. Fuck. Forgive me. Long night.”
“Why Theft?” Xavier asked, his facial expression never changing.
“Well, the engine is gone.”
“Oh, I took that out yesterday.”
“...wait…” the security manager said, confused. “You had this towed here because you said it died on you.”
“Yeah cars tend to die when you remove the engine.” X explains with a smirk.
“So someone took an axe to your van, tried to set it on fire, failed, broke all the windows the day after you took out the engine? Insurance isn’t gonna cover any of this.”
“I don’t have insurance. Besides, this isn’t that big of a deal.”
“This is vandalism, possible theft, attempted arson, and...it isn’t that big of a deal?”
“Nah. It’s just business.” Xavier texts quickly and nods to the gentleman looking at him baffled. “Guys my assistant is gonna come down here, She’ll handle any issues you might need assistance with. Thanks again.”
As he walks away, Xavier puts the phone to his ear and a scowl comes across his face. “Nez. Face tat trashed my van, as we predicted. Make it right with the hotel, make it right with the fdny and by all means. Get me the fucking security footage. Do not see me without it.”
Xavier pulls the phone away and presses the button. In moments like this he misses the ability to clap the phone shut. To physically effect something in order to feel better, if only for a second. Perhaps he’ll buy a burner flip. Or perhaps he’ll just take it out on O’Rourke.
“This fight isn’t worthing losing. It’s barely worth having at all.”