Story Mode: "Revelation""

HADES on EARTH: TWO

Bronwen wakes up disoriented and uncomfortable.  She feels drugged, woozy, the world around her is still spinning.  She’s uncomfortable, tightly fitted into a hideous wedding dress.  There is blood around the shoulders from when a once bride-to-be was slashed up for her dress.  Jagger’s in view in the corner of the room sharpening his knife.  In his clutches are Bronwen’s panties, blurry and distorted.

“Still smells good Deary.”  Jagger rumbles, “Still looks good.”

Jagger approaches Bronwen slowly, brandishing his knife.  He smiles wide and puts the knife to Bronwen’s throat.  Bronwen is helpless, tied down to a chair.  Jagger tries to straddle her.

“Come on, give it up before the Big Boy gets back.”  Jagger says, putting the knife between his teeth.

“Fuck you ya cunt!”  Bronwen growls, she smashes Jagger’s hand between her knees.

Jagger head butts her—Bronwen sees stars.  She maintains her awareness, feeling Jagger’s sick sweaty hands on her legs.

“I said fuck you!”  Bronwen yells.  She grabs the handle of the knife in her teeth and whips it to the left, slicing through the corners of his mouth.  “Fucker!”  Bronwen says, spitting out the knife.

Jagger lets out a terrible scream, grabbing at his now bloodied mouth.  He begins hyperventilating as he hits the ground.  He’s white as a sheet of paper.

“What the fuck?!”  Jagger gurgles.

The door to the far side of the room behind Bronwen flies open and Till stalks inside.  He slams the door behind him and surveys the scene.

“What is going on here?”  Till asks.

“The bitch cut me!”  Jagger whines.

“I told you to keep your distance.  Lady Fourteen is a fiery one.”  Till scoffs and approaches Bronwenm he runs his fingers through her hair and she pulls away from him.  “I had hoped you would have red hair.  No matter, we’ll fix that won’t we Jagger?”  Till’s face purses up into a smirk.

“Red hair?”  Bronwen raises an eyebrow…  “Fuck you, I’m no ginger.”

“I would be so sure of that Reizwache.”  Till kneels before her, patting her on the hand, “I love you.  It is time for you to come back to me.”

Bronwen spits in his face.  Till blinks, wiping the spit from his face.  He rises up and looks at Jagger who is shaking still holding his face.

“Go clean yourself up.”  Till commands, “The little lady and I must consummate our relationship.”  Till pulls open his belt and whips it out of the belt loops, “Do you feel it yet?”

“I don’t feel anything for you!”  Bronwen asks.

Till starts popping open his button fly, “You will.”

Dominique crashes into the room and goes right to Till’s side, “Victor, something terrible has happened.”

“Jagger bleed out?”  Till asks, rolling his eyes.

“No.”  Dominique grabs hold of Till but he shrugs her off, “Bronwen is not the right one.”

“What?”  Till asks.

“She’s not lady…”

Till chokes her out and tosses her to the side.

“Who are you?”

“What?”  Bronwen asks.

“You’re not Reich but I know you.”  Till groans, “I remember you.”

“Who?”  Bronwen stammers.

“Yes.  I remember you.”  TIll pulls the rest of his fly open, "I will enjoy this."

THE DIRTY MANIFESTO
"Going for Broke".

Finally.  Finally Shawn Walsh and I go for broke.  How long has this been going on now, ever since Escape from Wonderland we've been at each other's throats.  I've eaten a couple of his High Voltage super kicks and he's felt the Make a Bitch more than once.  The last time we faced didn't count.  It was a triple threat.  Shawn refutes the ending of that match day and night.  No.  It's time for the one on one.  We're going to keep NCV and SC out of the ring.  This monstrosity.  Electric barb wired cage match.  Fuck's sakes.  I don't know which has the bigger more ridiculous gimmick-- Shawn Walsh or the match itself.  Regardless of the nature of the match we will light it up.  It just so happens I might have to light his ass up and make his hair stand out on end.

With that said, I would like to talk about wins and losses too.  I know Shawn Walsh wants to alienate half of the roster by insulting them for being my opponents and that's fine by me, I beat 'em after all.  Shawn Walsh, guess what, I'm going there.  Yeah.  You've beat the same people I've beat.  But who have you tested your skills against?  Count 'em off for me punk.  I've beaten all the same people you have plus your two buddies Order of Chaos, and you.  Talk about beating whoever you want.  Marginalize whoever you want.  I beat you.  Shawn Walsh lost to Shane Clemmens for the Universal Title.  Go ahead and make fun of my opponents all you want.

There's something else I want you to explain to them Shawn Walsh.  I want you to explain to all the people that should be in this match with me why they're being over looked by a washed up jerkoff like you.  You're become a relic with each and every passing day Shawn Walsh.  I want you to explain to the young up and comers like Serenity Becker, Trey Styles, Juan  Ramirez, Giovanni Aries, and Order of Chaos too.  Explain to all of them why they aren't getting a shot while a bitch like you is stepping into the main event of the paper view.

You are fucking over Shawn, when are you going to wake up?  When are you going to stop acting like a goddamn teenager.  Stealing the girl of the guy that beat you up during recess?  Is that what this is about man?  You're in all these various pissing contests with fucktards nobody cares about and you think that makes you special?  Fuck man, you're a rerun of poorly produced wrestling shows from the fucking Nineties.  You're bad because you don't know any better.  You're so fucking cool.  You're godly, you're mother fucking training wheels bitch.

So take my wins and losses and stuff them up your ass right beside that bullshit fake slut you pay to fucking stalk you.  Who gives a fuck who you fuck and who you imagine fucking you?  Once again man, graduate from high school already and start being a fucking man.  You come to me begging for the fucking title like you've earned it.  You expect your bullshit words and bible quotes and thoughtless tripe to mean something to a guy like Shane Clemmens or the rest of the world for that matter?  No bitch, you're a gimmick gone wrong and it's time to turn the fucking channel on you.

No Cash Value has throttled the shit out of you, your clan, and the rest of the fucking fed save for The Gentleman's Club.  Understand that?  We've run rough shot over Superiority Complex especially.  This war has already been won.  This match is the spectacle at the end.  I'm Andrew Jackson in New Orleans after the war of eighteen twelve and I don't give a fuck about a cease fire.  I'm breaching your gates right now cocksucker and I'm aiming right for your heart.

Superiority Complex dies along with you at Northern Xposure.  I hope you're ready for this shit.

endo.