Kevin Collins tossed his keys on the cheap thrift store kitchen table and crossed into his diminutive living room, where his bulky 280 pound frame collapsed forlornly onto the couch. Another unsuccessful Tinder date had come and gone, and once again his company for the evening had excused herself to the restroom and failed to return.

What am I doing wrong?

Was it because I used a dash of AI to make myself look like Jensen Ackles in my profile pic?

Did I talk too much about my action figure collection?

Was she not interested in the fact that I have every single movie in the Marvel Cinematic Universe on Blu Ray?

I mean…how could she NOT be interested?

Probably because she’s a cunt.

Kevin groused.

The unkissed 43 year old cast a glance at the scantily clad statuette of a questionably of age demon girl that adorned his end table. The one with the plastic rubbed away on the nipples from persistent fondling.

Why can’t real girls be more like anime girls?

He pondered as he tried not to think about the tube of sleeping pills in the bathroom that were once again calling out to him to sleep forevermore. But who was he kidding?

He was too much of a pussy to kill himself.

It was then that a knock at the door interrupted his suicidal recrimations. With more than a twinge of curiosity, Kevin uprooted himself from the couch with a groan of exertion. Nobody ever visited him. Who could it be?

Going to the door, he opened it, disclosing nought but an empty hallway. Looking left, and then right, he saw no trace of anyone. But then, looking down, his curiosity was piqued still further when he saw an old VCR with a crude note reading “Play Me” taped to it. Kevin picked up the outmoded technology and brought it to the living room. Hooking up the vintage hardware took some doing, but lets be honest, people like Kevin have nothing but time. Once completed, Kevin hit play and sat down to watch.

At first, the cassette within displayed nothing but a blare of static. But once that was in the rearview, a young man appeared on the screen. Kevin recognized him instantly.

“Samael Dyson!” Kevin called out jubilantly.

Samael proceeded to speak directly into the camera, his tone haughty and matter of fact.

“Greetings peon! Today is the best day of your life! Yes, better than the day you discovered online pornography. Better than the day you first discovered you could splooge out a teaspoon of baby batter to girls who would never give you the time of day in the real world.

Because today is the day Samael Dyson came into your miserable, pointless existence.

You probably know who I am. Champion. Wrestling God. Big dick sex haver.

In short, everything you are not.

But have no fear! Today I am here to offer you purpose! Meaning!

Now I’m not going to lie to you and suggest you’re something special. I am, after all, the main character of your story. But what I am offering is a place by my side as one of my score of nameless Insignificants!”

What?! ME?! An Insignificant!

“Yes you! Granted, there’s no money. No benefits. In point of fact, you’ll practically be homeless. But just think about it, being in close proximity to ME day in and day out. Doing my bidding. Doing all the shit I’m too important to do myself. Why, you might even get lucky one day and I’ll let you sleep on the end of my bed.”

And so Samael continued on…and on….and on….but Kevin wasn’t remotely noticing the minutes ticking by. So enrapt was he by the power of Samael’s words, so ensnared was he by the nigh supernatural presence of the Xtreme Champion.

And when it was all said and done, just like so many scores of others, Kevin would slowly, reverently, pull that paper sack down over his head, and in so doing feel a sort of wholeness. Meaning had found him.

Finally he was part and parcel of something MORE.

THREE WEEKS LATER…

Samael pulled the Insignificant formerly known as Kevin Collins in front of him to absorb the savage rain of ammunition spilling down from the watchtower. Kevin’s body juked and jived in its death throes, and Samael casually tossed his corpse aside just as Elektra fired a rocket launcher at the guard tower, setting off a surface to air missile that obliterated it and the enemy Rollerwhores therein.

Sam pulled another Insignificant in front of him as a human shield as they made their way to the main gate. Another duo of assault rifle wielding Rollerwhores skated up to the gate, opening fire. But Samael’s Insignificants responded in kind and the ‘Whores dropped dead after a brief exchange of gunfire. Sam hunkered down against the wall next to the gate when he felt his ass start to thrum and vibrate.

“Oh what the fuck!” Sam cussed as he pulled his cell phone out. He watched as the semtex charge was affixed to the gate as he took note of who was calling and rolled his eyes in irritation before answering.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me! You have a 24/7 briefcase because of me!!” Korvayne spoke.

“How the fuck did you know I was rolling my eyes?”

“Call it a woman's intuition. But at any rate we need to talk about this Bad Medicine match.”

“What about it?”

“You OWE me, Sam!”

“.....and?”

“And you’re going to keep Charlie Nickles off my ass so I don’t lose my….” She pauses, finally catching on to the sounds of combat behind Samael. “What the hell is going on out there?”

“I’m raiding my father’s compound to kill him.”

“Oh. Cool.”

“Yeah.”

“So anyway I’m kinda fuckin’ busy right now. Could we have this discussion….” And that was when a stray bullet took out the phone and knocked it from his hands. “Fucker!” Then, turning to Violet and Elektra as they finished planting the charge on the gate, “That ready to go?”

They both nodded in unison and skated to the far side of the wall where they flattened down protectively. Elektra produced the detonator and pressed it, and in a flash the gate was blown inward into a smoking pile of twisted rebar.   

“HELL YEAH!” Sam cheered, pumping a fist in the air. “Okay, now go, go, GO!” Sam urged his minions onward, the Rollerwhores, the Ubermensch, and scores of gun toting Insignificants. “Don’t worry about me, I’m just gonna chill here for a bit. Cut this bitchin’ ass promo.” Samael’s shield Insignificant starts to leave when Sam grabs him by the collar and yanks him back. “Not you. I need someone to soak up all the bullets that come my way.”

“Oh yes, master! Okay master!”

Sam nods at the Insignificant as the patter of gunfire explodes just beyond the ruined gate. The champion then turns towards the camera, smirking wildly.

“Yes folks, today is the day of RECKONING! My father finally pays the price for interfering in my plans and trying to kill me. But more so than that, it’s a day of celebration! Because Bad Medicine marks the first day of the rest of the mighty Dyson empire. Longest reigning Xtreme champion in years! 24/7 briefcase holder! And soon to be your next Universal Champion!

Now, I’m not necessarily saying that shit’s going down at Bad Medicine. Am I cashing in on July 19th? Heh. Maybe! Maybe not. But the fact is that so long as I hold that briefcase, the shadow I cast over the entire XWF is long and perilous. And thus I only increase my mystique and the stranglehold I have over this entire company. The XWF is like a criminal waiting at the gallows for that floor to drop out. No one knows exactly when, or exactly how, but rest assured your necks are going to SNAP, your eyes are gonna bug out your skulls, and you're gonna fill your slacks with so, so much post mortem SHIT that people are gonna have to wear Hazmat suits just to move the body!”

Samael holds up a hand as a large BOOM resounds in the distance.

“But perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself. There are more near and present events that demand my attention….that demand my….my…..”

Sam collapses into laughter.

“Oh who the fuck am I kidding! I finally get to dogwalk Charlie Nickles at Bad Medicine and it is going to be fucking glorious! The only thing this “demands” is me trying not to pop a massive boner as I slam my iron gauntlet into those thick Cheeto stained jowls of his.

FIVE MONTHS, UP-CHUCK!  Five months you’ve tried to take the Xtreme from me. Five months of ambushes. Five months of surprise pins and blindsiding attacks. And what has it gotten you?

Nothing. No, worse than nothing! It’s shattered your credibility in ways that even I can not fully elucidate! I mean, you’d think at least one of these 30-odd attempts would have been successful, but nope! Not for fuck up Chuck! And to keep coming back only to get rebuffed and embarrassed over and over….Jesus Christ was this a KINK for you? Do you get off on the humiliation…the failure? It wouldn’t surprise me. You seem like the type.

And yes Chuck, yes, I’m well aware that you’ve held more titles than me. I’m well aware of your LEGACY. But all that weight of years has got to do something to a man, especially in a promotion as hard as the XWF. And it has, Chuck. Because let’s face facts. You’ve fallen down a long way from that Universal Championship reign. As I’ve said before, this game is a game of “what have you done lately”, and lately? You’ve done nothing but game the Xtreme championship into pathetic week-long reigns between you and your sycophants and try to resuscitate the corpse of BOB, which like Bobby Bourbon’s brief return, literally nobody asked for. And let’s not forget how you’ve also allowed that parasitic waster Jordan Penn to suckle on you! I mean, the old Charlie Nickles would have recognized him for the abyss of weakness that he is and DESTROYED him. Instead, you coddled him into an inexplicable tag team title reign. Christ man, what HAPPENED to you? Why are you picking up scraps?

Man, fuck the TV Championship. The real test of a man is the Xtreme Championship. A title you’ve held for barely over a month between three different reigns. You know, one would have thought that that title was meant for you. Isn’t that your wheelhouse? The EXTREME? So why have you been so mediocre with it every single time you’ve had it? Could it be the great Charlie Nickles is less extreme than he lets on? Could he be nothing more than a pasty bloated soft belly with a pair of hairy c-cup titties? 

The answer belles and beasts is YES. Especially the titties. I can’t wait to slap those hairy milkers around at Bad Medicine.”

Another prolific BOOM is heard in the near distance, but Sam doesn’t even flinch because that’s just how much of a big dick playa he is.

“In short Chuck, you peaked! Whereas I am everything you’re not. Young. Good looking. Filled with endless potential. Possessor of two functional testicles.

You ask the world who set the XWF on fire lately and it sure as shit isn’t your tired ass. No! It’s the man who completed the Xtreme Championship briefcase run. The man who’s done something only a handful of people have done, and you don’t even need all the fingers on that hand. And there’s the rub Chuck. For all your vaunted championships. For all your accolades. For as much as you like to pride yourself on being a unique specimen of humanity, everything you’ve ever done has been just short of historic. You’ve attained the same old achievements scores of other people have. Never a King. Never a 24/7 briefcase holder. All those things that demarcate someone as being the very best of the best you’ve NEVER accomplished. Because when it comes to Charlie Nickles, good was always good enough.

But motherfucker, I’m aiming for GREAT! And thus far my aim has been true. And it stays true at Bad Medicine, when I finally slough off your fat dumpy ass for good!”

“Master…MASTER! We’ve captured your father!” an Insignificant calls out from the precipice of the ruined gate.

“HA! And in record time too! Take me to him.” Samael commands as he sidles up next to the Insignificant with his second bullet shield Insignificant in tow. Together, they enter the compound, which consists of a mansion surrounded by high walls topped with razor wire and guard towers. The grounds are littered with the corpses of Samael’s father’s enemy Rollerwhores, and Samael’s own Insignificants. Soon after Sam steps onto the battlefield, a mortally wounded Insignificant crawls over to him.

“Master….we won! We…..*BLLLEURGHHHHHH!*” the Insignificant vomits up a copious amount of blood on Samael's shoes.

“Eugh! Fuckin’ GROSS!” Sam scowls and kicks the dying Insignificant away. “Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah….Korvayne.” Sam walks and talks as he’s led further into the bloodstained compound.

“Kor…Kor….Kor….management is doing what they ALWAYS do. Trying to undermine and stymie me at every turn. Yeah, okay, they kind of threw me a bone with Tommy Gunn and his guys, but that was just to keep up appearances. After all, how did Kristoffer get under that ring in the first place with nobody on the crew noticing? Bullshit. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

And now MORE bullshit.

They’re trying to break us up already, my dear sweet artiste. Trying to stir the pot, get us at each other’s throats! But we’re not going to let that happen, are we? No. Why?

Because they’re fucking stupid!

I mean, if management really wanted us to have a go at each other, they would have made this shit one on one, title versus title. But that, in their infinite lack of wisdom, is NOT what they did. Nope! Instead, what they gave us was a convenient patsy to use and abuse to ensure we BOTH walk out of here with our titles reigns intact.

Kor, it’s so simple! All we have to do is gang up on and pin Charlie Nickles for both falls and we both walk out of Bad Medicine with what we came in with. Easy peasy baby. All we gotta do is stick to the plan.”

Samael quirks an eyebrow.

“Right? Because we ARE gonna stick to that plan, eh? There’s really no need for either of us to grabby now, is there? 

I mean, I know my championship is attractive. Second grandest title in all the land. Key to what amounts to a free pass at any other championship of your choice (if you’re good enough).

But let me be clear. I’m not done with it. And that goes whether you’re an ally or an enemy. You see, when I pissed right in Dexter Bright’s face that was more than a statement. It was a PROPHECY. I’m breaking his record with this title and I’m going down in history as the greatest XTreme champion of all time. Engy, Fuzz, and Unknown Soldier can all GET FUCKED.”

He throws up a middle finger at the camera.

“Besides, you guys are pulling double duty. How much are you going to have in the tank when you have to step to a WRESTLING GOD like me? Not much! But that’s okay, ‘Kor. You’ll have me as a backup. Charlie on the other hand?

You’re boned. And not in the fun way.”

As Samael continued his rant, he was led further and further into his father’s stately home. Finally arriving at a set of brass double doors, he paused a moment to look at the massive painting above them. It was a portrait of his father in the nude, looking robust, and seated with a Rollerwhore on each knee. Clearly the apple didn’t fall far from the proverbial tree. Sam chuckled as he passed through the open doors into a marble hallway, where that same man was on his knees, grimacing thanks to a bullet wound in his shoulder. Violet, Elektra, and the Ubermensch stood over him triumphantly.

“Wir haben Euren Vater erfolgreich gefangen genommen, Meister!” the Übermensch stated proudly.

“Still have no idea what the fuck you’re saying big guy, but it doesn’t matter. This is one of the best goddamn days of my life.”

Matthew X, the man who sired the gleeful monster approaching him, cracked a smile despite his circumstances. “I’m so glad I could do that for you.”

“Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!” Samael bent low to leer at his father. “You can engage in all the cheeky meaningless banter you want. Until I decide it’s time for you to die, that is.”

“Then why don’t you just get it over with?”

Sam stood up. “Nah. I’m gonna savor this shit.” He paced around his father, his eyes never leaving the man's head. “I bet you’re really kicking yourself now.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because all you had to do to avoid this fate was leave me the fuck alone! Unlike mother, I actually RESPECTED you. Maybe even kinda loved you….”

Matthew X chortled. “You’re not capable of love.”

Sam stopped in his tracks, again directly in front of his father. “Maybe not. But who’s fault is that, eh? Who drummed those feelings out of me as a poor innocent child, huh?!”

“Oh spare me. You were dissecting insects in the back yard by the time you were two years old. The writing was on the wall. You were always going to be a monster. Nothing we ever said or did was going to change that.”

“Bullshit!”

“No! FACT. You know what your first word was, Sammy? I do. I’ll never forget it. We found you prodding at a dead squirrel one day in the street and you said “blood”. That was your first word. BLOOD.”

Sam screwed his face up in a sneer. “I don’t remember that.”

“Of course not. You were too little.”

“What horseshit!” Sam threw his hands up in the air. “You’re spinning yarns old man. And by the way, what the hell is up with your voice? You’re not exactly sounding like yourself.” Sam smirked. “Maybe it’s just the weakness in you finally bubbling to the surface.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Matthew mock conceded. “But the point is, you were always doomed to be what you are. A desperate, angry, malicious child pining for respect that will always be beyond your grasp. You think your coworkers in the XWF will ever respect you, Sammy? You can’t win a match without somebody interfering on your behalf. You think people don’t see that? You think that won’t put a big red asterisk on every one of your achievements?”

“Oh how old school of you. Emphasis on OLD. You think when my tale is written they’ll remember how I got to the promised land? You think they’ll care? Nobody cares old man! Besides, you’re a fine fuckin’ one to talk about cheating your way to the top.”

“Um….master….?” an Insignificant called out from down the hall.

“WHAT?! Can’t you see I’m having my last ever conversation with the fossil?!”

“Well….um….there’s a helicopter….and…..”

“A what?”

And that was when Sam became aware of a rhythmic thumping sound coming from outside, followed by the sight of a chopper roaring off into the distance. Sam narrowed his eyes at the retreating aircraft, but then suddenly his eyes widened again in realization. “Fuck!” Sam took Matthew X’s head in his and jerked it to the side. He saw what he feared he would see. Surgical scars outlining the side of the man’s face. “This isn’t my father! It’s just a decoy! FUCK ME!”

The Matthew X decoy started to laugh. “Mission accomplished chucklefuck.”

“Menschy, KILL HIM!”

The Ubermensch wrapped both of his massive hands around the sides of the decoy’s skull and started to press inward. The decoy tried to maintain his composure in light of the crushing pain, but soon started to scream. Eventually, his head popped like a water filled balloon, eyes exploding out of their sockets as the skull gave way with a sickening crunch. Blood pooled out of the man’s eye holes and ears and the Ubermensch dropped the body disdainfully to the floor.

Meanwhile…

Kevin Collins looked down at his own bullet riddled corpse.

Huh. I guess that means I’m dead. Well, at least I died in the service of the biggest big dick playa in all the land! Now onto Heaven, where I’m sure a bevy of big tittied angels await!

Kevin’s spirit raised his arms in the air and leapt not so mightily in the direction of the heavens above. Naturally, he returned forthwith to terra firma. Looking about curiously, he tried to jump towards heaven again, but was unsuccessful once more.

Damn! When do I get to go to….

But his thought was interrupted by the sight of a scowling Samael Dyson and his entourage emerging from the mansion. Kevin started to beam instantly.

Master! Master, can you hear me?!

Nobody responded to Kevin’s query, or even recognized he was there at all.

Of course not you idiot, you’re invisible to the living! He chastised himself for his stupidity, much as he did in life. However, Kevin soon noticed a peculiar sight. The evening sun had cast not one but two shadows in Samael’s wake. Kevin cocked his ghostly head in confusion.

What the….?

Kevin studied the dual shadows, until one of them started to differentiate itself from the other. It started to grow larger, slowly at first but then quickening until it was an opaque mass that was starting to overtake the battlefield whole. It was also at that point that Kevin noticed the souls of some of the other battlefield dead prying themselves loose from their broken bodies. But then, to his horror, the growing shadow started to envelop the other souls as it spread, sucking them down into its inky blackness. Most of the souls struggled to resist the unnatural darkness, screaming in terror as they were engulfed. Screams that were privy only to the dead.

Oh no….oh shit!

Kevin cursed as he turned to run, but the mounting darkness had grown too fast and Kevin soon felt it tugging at his ankles.

No,no,no!

Kevin faltered as thin tendrils of pure shadow suddenly wrapped around his calves. And, not exactly an athlete in life and so too in death, Kevin’s strength and will were quickly broken and he was pulled down beneath the black surface. Kevin screamed just as the others had screamed as he plunged beneath, not so much drowned as devoured. His consciousness was snuffed in an instant, nought but feed for the formless cosmic horror that had affixed itself to Samael Dyson.

Sam ceased his grousing as he stepped amongst the casualties just long enough to cast a look back at the dead. Not out of some sense of sorrow or respect, but curiosity. His eyes narrowed as he beheld them.

“Did any of you hear that?”

He looked back at his acolytes, who all shrugged and shook their heads “no”. Then, returning his gaze to the corpses, he too shrugged demurely.

“Thought I heard something. Eh. Fuck it.” Then, to the Ubermensch. “Menschy, get me the car. Let’s get the hell outta here. I’m sick of looking at this place already.”

Yet, somewhere deep in the furthest recesses of time and space, something inhuman cackled as it completed its latest meal courtesy of its human host.

Now onto the XWF, it purred.