The Alaskan monster, Kodiak Vic Creed, flips through what appears to be the Entertainment section of a newspaper. I almost felt bad for the human race when I heard Anna Nicole Smith was dead. No longer would that big t*tted mush-mouth entertain the mouth breathers with her car wreck of a life...

“I’m supposed to be surprised, right? Is that how this works?” The mammoth Alaskan, Kodiak Vic Creed, walked out of the bathroom of his hotel suite. With only a towel around his waist, water droplets still hanging off his freakishly muscular upper body, Creed held a slip of paper between...

The NFW production van rolled to a halt outside of Kodiak's Gym just after six in the morning. There were few vehicles in the parking lot, but the one that stood out was the black 2007 Escalade parked right beside the front doors. The license plate read "MAINMAN3". Voice: That must be his...

“I can’t believe you used to live in my balls! Hello? Hello?” Kodiak Vic Creed slammed the receiver down on the phone, the ringer echoing in the darkness of his hotel room. Vic stared at the glowing number pad, almost expecting his son Alex to call him back. That wasn’t going to happen...

The Training Barry Blaster, pro wrestling hopeful. Barry Blaster, personal trainer. Barry Blaster, ready to vomit. It wasn’t that Barry was afraid of hard work. Far from it. His athletic physique didn’t come from sitting on the couch, stuffing his face...