Post by Devilkiller on Jul 5, 2014 0:09:58 GMT -5
Bella: "Okay, okay, explain what's going on."
The light beams down on my head, causing sweat to form and start to roll off my skin as I have no words to tell my newly made fiancé. What the hell do you say? I got blacked out drunk because of the stress I've been under and ended up sleeping with a $2 French whore? Well, that's not the truth, I only had to pay $1.
So I stare at her gorgeous brown eyes with no words, no emotion, just blank stare. I look around the shambles of my broken home now, the busted TV, the crooked mirror, the chair over-turned and the floor stained with god knows what kind of fluids, and then there's the personal home wreckage. The flames that come from the deepest pit of hell are around me as I basically stare at the one that will judge me and will determine where I will be at, which road will I be forced to travel. There's nothing to do but get out of the situation at hand.
Devilkiller: "I'm sorry about all of this, I really am. I need to go for a couple of days, it'll be best-"
Bella: "Couple of days? What you expect me to clean this crap up while you're away and when you get back everything's gonna be all hunky dory? "
I know better than to talk back, she's a beautiful beast. She can talk better than I can write, and after several years of writing my life story for every therapist to see, that's actually pretty good.
Bella: "Uh huh, right, that's what I thought Mr. "Professional Wrestler", how about you go make money and stop being such a f*cking lazy slob and start showing to your matches huh? How about you finally get that fire under your ass lit so you don't have to sit at home and have frap parties like you're a f*cking teenager again. Grow up you moron, and learn some god damn sense."
I'm left speechless. Moron? Why the f*ck, and under what grounds would she call me a moron? For sleeping with a girl? For doing a males natural thing and screw someone? It's not like she hasn't been on f*cking vacation for the last week with me here all alone to masturbate to the volleyball channel. I'm still proud of myself as I bite my tongue and choose my words carefully.
Devilkiller: "Honey, I'm tired, you're tired, just go to bed, I'll have someone stop by and clean all of this up, I'll go get a hotel room. Don't forget to pick up Carter."
Bella: "Like you give a damn about him. He's YOUR son and you won't even act like a f*cking father? You drop him at your moms house so you can f*ck everything that walks? You deadbeat piece of crap- go. Just go."
I am outraged by this point. I offer everything under the sun, apologized, clean the house, leave the house that I own, and she gets pissed over Carter!? She calls ME a deadbeat dad? F*ck her!
Devilkiller: "You think you can sit there and call me a deadbeat dad? Yeah well when's the last time you did something for him? You want to be such a great step mom when's the last time you bought him something? Huh? DONT YOU DARE F*CKING ANSWER. You stay here tonight, you sleep on that couch, on that bed, on the floor wherever, but just remember this, either it was the $2 whore, or my ex that f*cked there, so enjoy the imagination of me banging her god damn brains out while you sleep. Good bye! "
Yeah I over stepped my boundaries, but honestly, when someone brings kids into a situation, you can't hold back. That's like someone calling you a girl when you're in elementary school, you get pissed.
I walk out of my home one more time and make sure to slam the door so hard that it actually opens back up from breaking the lock mechanism. I stride to my car and hope in, revving up the 400 horses in the engine and pulling out of the drive way, and heading to a place I know I'm welcome-
The WFWF Training Center.
-----
As soon as I arrive to the center, I feel so much more relaxed. I get out of the car and grab my wrestling gear from the back and go put on my gear in the locker room.
While I'm starting to lace my boots up, I hear the familiar voice of a kid I talked to after SuperBrawl. He was all about becoming a wrestler, and now I see he's signed to a developmental deal, or so I think.
Jayson: "Hey man! Why the hell are you here in the Developments man?"
Devilkiller: "Developments? Is that what these parts are called? Hm. I didn't know."
Jayson: "Haha, what are you here for anyway?"
Devilkiller: "I decided to quit being so f*cking lazy and show up to my next scheduled match. What are you here for?"
Jayson: "Well after being on the ring crew for so long, they asked if I wanted a developmental deal, and I hurriedly said yes."
Devilkiller: "That's nice, kid. You got the shortness for a high flier, the arms of a 'roid user, and the hair of a champion."
Jayson: "What does that mean?"
Devilkiller: "It means I like your hair. It's black, like my natural color."
Jayson: "Ohh! Lookie here, we got Devilkiller who knows a little bit about hair now!"
Devilkiller: "Man shut up. Haha. You want to get in the ring and let me tell you a few things? I really need to be ready for this sorta new cat named Kyle Matthews, and I think you would help me get in some shape to wrestle him."
The 6 foot kid stares in bewilderment at me for a while, just staring in my eyes and starting to make me feel uncomfortable sitting against the wall.
Jayson: "Yes. Yes sir please sir."
Devilkiller: "Yeah well, I might just do that. Go on and get in the red roped ring."
Jayson: "Why that ring?"
Devilkiller: "It's the oldest one we have, it's not the stiffest by any means, but people hate on it because it's back from the days where WFWF was in turmoil. "
Jayson nods and bounds away joyfully, making me question if a 24 year old can hang in the ring with this 19 year old.
I lace the rest of my boots up and take a long look in the mirror, seeing the black circles underneath my eyes, the hair that's obviously hasn't been washed in a few days, and the shell of a man that has found his old flame and passion.
I take off from the locker room, running into some more rookies, shaking my hand and asking me a few questions about holding the National championship, before telling them it's no big deal and running to the ring with Jayson.
Devilkiller: "Alright, we're gonna start off simple, give me an arm drag."
About the time I finish the sentence Jayson has already taken me and spun me around where I land on my back, looking up at the metal ceiling.
Devilkiller: "Not bad kid, not bad. Alright, let's get up and I want you to give me the best belly to belly you can do. "
With that, Jayson picks me up like he's some 7 foot monster and slams me down beside him.
Devilkiller: "Damn. This hurts worse then I remember."
Jayson: "Haha, what's wrong, old-timer? Can't hang with the new generation?"
Devilkiller: "Oh I know I can hang."
And with that we get up and lock up, throwing eachother off the ropes, performing German suplexes and DDT's, every move we can think of that would flow good together and put on a good show for the other developmentals, getting a cheering ovation after I take a nasty Superkick from Jayson for the win.
Devilkiller: "That was great kid. I'm glad I was able to get in here and show you something or another. "
Jayson: "Really? Thank you sir. Thank you."
Devilkiller: "You know, you remind me of myself at this stage, though when I was 19 I was my backyard federation's champion. You better not get a back injury boy, that sh*t can f*ck you up for life."
Jayson: "You have a back injury?"
Devilkiller: "I took a nasty back bump on a car that I shouldn't have. I was flat out stupid, wanting to draw fame and attention to myself, and when I hit the roof of the car, my back just basically gave out. I had 3 herniated disk and 1 bulging disk, and I had to have surgery. By the time I came back, I was replaced. So I vowed to not have the same thing happen to me again."
Jayson: "So you quit taking crazy bumps?"
Devilkiller: "Oh hell no! I'll be taking crazy ass bumps until I die. Anyway man, thank you, honestly for getting me prepared."
Jayson: "Thank you for allowing me to get into the ring with you."
I nod the usual "I understood what you said but I don't know what to say back" nod and walk out of the building. I'm already in my gear so I can arrive to the arena later than I normally would have to.
Now it's about 12:30, for the therapist that reads this next, and I decide I'll go ahead and get ready for my plane ride, as customs can be a bitch.
---
Upon arriving at the airport, I get a call from the hooker I apparently slept with last night. Without further ado-
Hooker: "Hi! Do you remember me?"
Devilkiller: "Um.. A crazy stalker fan that found my number?"
Hooker: "No, silly! It's me, Diane."
Devilkiller: "Diane?"
Diane: "Yes! You don't remember?"
At this point I'm a little frustrated at these assumptions that I know who she is, so I play along.
Devilkiller: "Yes! Oh my gosh! I can't believe I'm talking to you again!"
Diane: "Yeah! Me too!"
I roll my eyes. Why are some girls f*cking crazy?
Devilkiller: "Well I really need to go, I'm about to go through customs-"
Diane: For your match right?
Now that caught me off guard.
Devilkiller: "Um.. Huh?"
Diane: "You told me last night! "
Oh. So at this point it's when I find out she's hooker lady, so I get kinda angry at the fact I was black out drunk and can't remember the one time I cheat on a girl, and take it out on her.
Devilkiller: "Listen, Diane, I really don't give a f*ck about who you are, I just know you f*cked up my life in a big way. Now you CALL me as I make my way through customs for God knows what reason, making me angry before my match even starts! I have to face a new kid, and I don't want to kill him, so please do me a favor and lose this f*cking number."
I assume she's in shock, as I stay on the line for just a split second before hanging up the phone and throwing it in a nearby trash can. F*ck women man, I would much rather jack off in my room too porn than to deal with all that bullsh*t.
Anyway, so I start to go through customs, and of course I get the guy with the f*cking WFWF tattoo on his arm, like God knew I would be there today, and he recognizes me immediately.
Customs agent: "Oh my god! It's you! It's you! It's Devilkiller! I've been following you since you were in the backyard!"
Devilkiller: "Yeah, it's me. Now can you just clear me?"
Agent: "Are you kidding me? There are so many questions to ask! How do you feel about facing Kyle?"
Devilkiller:" Look man, I really don't want to start here-"
Agent: "You will not go through until I see the fire I saw in you when you found out your best friend took your spot in your backyard fed, not until I see the fire I saw when you chased that National championship, you will not pass through here. Start talking bub."
Wait wait wait, let me slow down here, did this guy just say he's basically holding me hostage? And number two, did he just call me bub? I don't like being called bub.
Devilkiller: "Okay then, "bub", you want to know what I think about it? He's still too fresh in the business to be in the ring with me. He's still a kid whose attention span is that of a f*cking fish. Kyle Matthews is nothing but a new guy that WFWF wants to use to get people to like him. Well f*ck that. You know, once, I was that guy. Yeah, and you know what happened? I went from that guy who had something, to something we call in the business called mid-card hell, that's where I am right now, and I feel sorry for Kyle, because I know that's directly where he's heading, with me. You see, WFWF has NO idea what to do with me. ME. The, not "one of" THE longest reigning WFWF National Champion in history! Now you can sit there and keep me prisoner all you want too but tonight I got to show why I deserve SOMETHING. I deserve maybe an International title shot or a World title shot, even if I know for a damn fact it won't happen, I better go give it all I got so I can say when I'm done with this business that "I did the best I could do!" Now EXCUSE ME sir, and let me the F*CK THROUGH!"
Yeah yeah Mr. I don't even know which therapist I'll be assigned next, I have an anger issue, and I don't care.
The guy stares and smiles oddly, he grabs my wrist and escorts me to my plane, like nothing ever happened. He tips his hat and that's it. Hm. Cool dude after all I guess.
---- PROMO TIME ----
*Devilkiller is in a red tinted room as usual, his hands on his knees as his black hood is drawn over his painted face, he stares at the ground, before speaking in a gruff voice.*
Devilkiller: Kyle, I have no problem with you. You seem to have promise, you seem to have faith. Kid, let me let you in on a secret- That's all you have left at this point.
You see, Kyle, in WFWF you won't make it much further than you are now, which may be okay by your standards and hundreds of men who stood there before. But for me? I like the spotlight buddy.
I hear you on this talk shows, taking interviews like you're actually someone. Tonight I'm giving you the chance! You said you started liking wrestling because of a bloody matchup, well tonight I'll give you a bloody brawl. Yeah weapons have to be excused, but by God my fist won't be.
I heard about you handing out tickets to random strangers and letting them come backstage where the big dogs are, you think you're so over with everyone and everything that you can do that and people will actually be happy? You're pathetic. It's nothing against you as a performer, it's against your ego.
You have passion somewhere deep in those bones and you're trying to let it show, but you are too egotistical to find out.
When have I ever handed out a ticket? Been on a radio show? Anything?
I never have.
And I've accomplished what no one else has done- become the longest reigning National champion in WFWF History.
Do you wanna know a secret, Kyle? When I became the Devilkiller and I sat upon my throne in Hell, it was more fun than it is up here.
Now I have to deal with people who frown upon me because I may possibly be the anti-Christ. That's great and all, because I am, it isn't as exciting as it is when you control demons. It's just not fun.
Enough with me being cryptic- I leave you with one piece of advice.
*At this point Devilkiller looks up into the camera, glaring into the lens*
Give a man a truth, and he will think for a day. Teach a man a reason, and he will think forever. Think about your position in WFWF kid, it's not just the truth, the reason comes tonight.
*With that Devilkiller looks back down as the camera fades to black*
----End---
Well, I'm back. Most don't like it, and I'm sorry, but eh.
Thanks guys for the chance! And Kyle, don't take this crap to heart, you're a great writer and do better every week!
The light beams down on my head, causing sweat to form and start to roll off my skin as I have no words to tell my newly made fiancé. What the hell do you say? I got blacked out drunk because of the stress I've been under and ended up sleeping with a $2 French whore? Well, that's not the truth, I only had to pay $1.
So I stare at her gorgeous brown eyes with no words, no emotion, just blank stare. I look around the shambles of my broken home now, the busted TV, the crooked mirror, the chair over-turned and the floor stained with god knows what kind of fluids, and then there's the personal home wreckage. The flames that come from the deepest pit of hell are around me as I basically stare at the one that will judge me and will determine where I will be at, which road will I be forced to travel. There's nothing to do but get out of the situation at hand.
Devilkiller: "I'm sorry about all of this, I really am. I need to go for a couple of days, it'll be best-"
Bella: "Couple of days? What you expect me to clean this crap up while you're away and when you get back everything's gonna be all hunky dory? "
I know better than to talk back, she's a beautiful beast. She can talk better than I can write, and after several years of writing my life story for every therapist to see, that's actually pretty good.
Bella: "Uh huh, right, that's what I thought Mr. "Professional Wrestler", how about you go make money and stop being such a f*cking lazy slob and start showing to your matches huh? How about you finally get that fire under your ass lit so you don't have to sit at home and have frap parties like you're a f*cking teenager again. Grow up you moron, and learn some god damn sense."
I'm left speechless. Moron? Why the f*ck, and under what grounds would she call me a moron? For sleeping with a girl? For doing a males natural thing and screw someone? It's not like she hasn't been on f*cking vacation for the last week with me here all alone to masturbate to the volleyball channel. I'm still proud of myself as I bite my tongue and choose my words carefully.
Devilkiller: "Honey, I'm tired, you're tired, just go to bed, I'll have someone stop by and clean all of this up, I'll go get a hotel room. Don't forget to pick up Carter."
Bella: "Like you give a damn about him. He's YOUR son and you won't even act like a f*cking father? You drop him at your moms house so you can f*ck everything that walks? You deadbeat piece of crap- go. Just go."
I am outraged by this point. I offer everything under the sun, apologized, clean the house, leave the house that I own, and she gets pissed over Carter!? She calls ME a deadbeat dad? F*ck her!
Devilkiller: "You think you can sit there and call me a deadbeat dad? Yeah well when's the last time you did something for him? You want to be such a great step mom when's the last time you bought him something? Huh? DONT YOU DARE F*CKING ANSWER. You stay here tonight, you sleep on that couch, on that bed, on the floor wherever, but just remember this, either it was the $2 whore, or my ex that f*cked there, so enjoy the imagination of me banging her god damn brains out while you sleep. Good bye! "
Yeah I over stepped my boundaries, but honestly, when someone brings kids into a situation, you can't hold back. That's like someone calling you a girl when you're in elementary school, you get pissed.
I walk out of my home one more time and make sure to slam the door so hard that it actually opens back up from breaking the lock mechanism. I stride to my car and hope in, revving up the 400 horses in the engine and pulling out of the drive way, and heading to a place I know I'm welcome-
The WFWF Training Center.
-----
As soon as I arrive to the center, I feel so much more relaxed. I get out of the car and grab my wrestling gear from the back and go put on my gear in the locker room.
While I'm starting to lace my boots up, I hear the familiar voice of a kid I talked to after SuperBrawl. He was all about becoming a wrestler, and now I see he's signed to a developmental deal, or so I think.
Jayson: "Hey man! Why the hell are you here in the Developments man?"
Devilkiller: "Developments? Is that what these parts are called? Hm. I didn't know."
Jayson: "Haha, what are you here for anyway?"
Devilkiller: "I decided to quit being so f*cking lazy and show up to my next scheduled match. What are you here for?"
Jayson: "Well after being on the ring crew for so long, they asked if I wanted a developmental deal, and I hurriedly said yes."
Devilkiller: "That's nice, kid. You got the shortness for a high flier, the arms of a 'roid user, and the hair of a champion."
Jayson: "What does that mean?"
Devilkiller: "It means I like your hair. It's black, like my natural color."
Jayson: "Ohh! Lookie here, we got Devilkiller who knows a little bit about hair now!"
Devilkiller: "Man shut up. Haha. You want to get in the ring and let me tell you a few things? I really need to be ready for this sorta new cat named Kyle Matthews, and I think you would help me get in some shape to wrestle him."
The 6 foot kid stares in bewilderment at me for a while, just staring in my eyes and starting to make me feel uncomfortable sitting against the wall.
Jayson: "Yes. Yes sir please sir."
Devilkiller: "Yeah well, I might just do that. Go on and get in the red roped ring."
Jayson: "Why that ring?"
Devilkiller: "It's the oldest one we have, it's not the stiffest by any means, but people hate on it because it's back from the days where WFWF was in turmoil. "
Jayson nods and bounds away joyfully, making me question if a 24 year old can hang in the ring with this 19 year old.
I lace the rest of my boots up and take a long look in the mirror, seeing the black circles underneath my eyes, the hair that's obviously hasn't been washed in a few days, and the shell of a man that has found his old flame and passion.
I take off from the locker room, running into some more rookies, shaking my hand and asking me a few questions about holding the National championship, before telling them it's no big deal and running to the ring with Jayson.
Devilkiller: "Alright, we're gonna start off simple, give me an arm drag."
About the time I finish the sentence Jayson has already taken me and spun me around where I land on my back, looking up at the metal ceiling.
Devilkiller: "Not bad kid, not bad. Alright, let's get up and I want you to give me the best belly to belly you can do. "
With that, Jayson picks me up like he's some 7 foot monster and slams me down beside him.
Devilkiller: "Damn. This hurts worse then I remember."
Jayson: "Haha, what's wrong, old-timer? Can't hang with the new generation?"
Devilkiller: "Oh I know I can hang."
And with that we get up and lock up, throwing eachother off the ropes, performing German suplexes and DDT's, every move we can think of that would flow good together and put on a good show for the other developmentals, getting a cheering ovation after I take a nasty Superkick from Jayson for the win.
Devilkiller: "That was great kid. I'm glad I was able to get in here and show you something or another. "
Jayson: "Really? Thank you sir. Thank you."
Devilkiller: "You know, you remind me of myself at this stage, though when I was 19 I was my backyard federation's champion. You better not get a back injury boy, that sh*t can f*ck you up for life."
Jayson: "You have a back injury?"
Devilkiller: "I took a nasty back bump on a car that I shouldn't have. I was flat out stupid, wanting to draw fame and attention to myself, and when I hit the roof of the car, my back just basically gave out. I had 3 herniated disk and 1 bulging disk, and I had to have surgery. By the time I came back, I was replaced. So I vowed to not have the same thing happen to me again."
Jayson: "So you quit taking crazy bumps?"
Devilkiller: "Oh hell no! I'll be taking crazy ass bumps until I die. Anyway man, thank you, honestly for getting me prepared."
Jayson: "Thank you for allowing me to get into the ring with you."
I nod the usual "I understood what you said but I don't know what to say back" nod and walk out of the building. I'm already in my gear so I can arrive to the arena later than I normally would have to.
Now it's about 12:30, for the therapist that reads this next, and I decide I'll go ahead and get ready for my plane ride, as customs can be a bitch.
---
Upon arriving at the airport, I get a call from the hooker I apparently slept with last night. Without further ado-
Hooker: "Hi! Do you remember me?"
Devilkiller: "Um.. A crazy stalker fan that found my number?"
Hooker: "No, silly! It's me, Diane."
Devilkiller: "Diane?"
Diane: "Yes! You don't remember?"
At this point I'm a little frustrated at these assumptions that I know who she is, so I play along.
Devilkiller: "Yes! Oh my gosh! I can't believe I'm talking to you again!"
Diane: "Yeah! Me too!"
I roll my eyes. Why are some girls f*cking crazy?
Devilkiller: "Well I really need to go, I'm about to go through customs-"
Diane: For your match right?
Now that caught me off guard.
Devilkiller: "Um.. Huh?"
Diane: "You told me last night! "
Oh. So at this point it's when I find out she's hooker lady, so I get kinda angry at the fact I was black out drunk and can't remember the one time I cheat on a girl, and take it out on her.
Devilkiller: "Listen, Diane, I really don't give a f*ck about who you are, I just know you f*cked up my life in a big way. Now you CALL me as I make my way through customs for God knows what reason, making me angry before my match even starts! I have to face a new kid, and I don't want to kill him, so please do me a favor and lose this f*cking number."
I assume she's in shock, as I stay on the line for just a split second before hanging up the phone and throwing it in a nearby trash can. F*ck women man, I would much rather jack off in my room too porn than to deal with all that bullsh*t.
Anyway, so I start to go through customs, and of course I get the guy with the f*cking WFWF tattoo on his arm, like God knew I would be there today, and he recognizes me immediately.
Customs agent: "Oh my god! It's you! It's you! It's Devilkiller! I've been following you since you were in the backyard!"
Devilkiller: "Yeah, it's me. Now can you just clear me?"
Agent: "Are you kidding me? There are so many questions to ask! How do you feel about facing Kyle?"
Devilkiller:" Look man, I really don't want to start here-"
Agent: "You will not go through until I see the fire I saw in you when you found out your best friend took your spot in your backyard fed, not until I see the fire I saw when you chased that National championship, you will not pass through here. Start talking bub."
Wait wait wait, let me slow down here, did this guy just say he's basically holding me hostage? And number two, did he just call me bub? I don't like being called bub.
Devilkiller: "Okay then, "bub", you want to know what I think about it? He's still too fresh in the business to be in the ring with me. He's still a kid whose attention span is that of a f*cking fish. Kyle Matthews is nothing but a new guy that WFWF wants to use to get people to like him. Well f*ck that. You know, once, I was that guy. Yeah, and you know what happened? I went from that guy who had something, to something we call in the business called mid-card hell, that's where I am right now, and I feel sorry for Kyle, because I know that's directly where he's heading, with me. You see, WFWF has NO idea what to do with me. ME. The, not "one of" THE longest reigning WFWF National Champion in history! Now you can sit there and keep me prisoner all you want too but tonight I got to show why I deserve SOMETHING. I deserve maybe an International title shot or a World title shot, even if I know for a damn fact it won't happen, I better go give it all I got so I can say when I'm done with this business that "I did the best I could do!" Now EXCUSE ME sir, and let me the F*CK THROUGH!"
Yeah yeah Mr. I don't even know which therapist I'll be assigned next, I have an anger issue, and I don't care.
The guy stares and smiles oddly, he grabs my wrist and escorts me to my plane, like nothing ever happened. He tips his hat and that's it. Hm. Cool dude after all I guess.
---- PROMO TIME ----
*Devilkiller is in a red tinted room as usual, his hands on his knees as his black hood is drawn over his painted face, he stares at the ground, before speaking in a gruff voice.*
Devilkiller: Kyle, I have no problem with you. You seem to have promise, you seem to have faith. Kid, let me let you in on a secret- That's all you have left at this point.
You see, Kyle, in WFWF you won't make it much further than you are now, which may be okay by your standards and hundreds of men who stood there before. But for me? I like the spotlight buddy.
I hear you on this talk shows, taking interviews like you're actually someone. Tonight I'm giving you the chance! You said you started liking wrestling because of a bloody matchup, well tonight I'll give you a bloody brawl. Yeah weapons have to be excused, but by God my fist won't be.
I heard about you handing out tickets to random strangers and letting them come backstage where the big dogs are, you think you're so over with everyone and everything that you can do that and people will actually be happy? You're pathetic. It's nothing against you as a performer, it's against your ego.
You have passion somewhere deep in those bones and you're trying to let it show, but you are too egotistical to find out.
When have I ever handed out a ticket? Been on a radio show? Anything?
I never have.
And I've accomplished what no one else has done- become the longest reigning National champion in WFWF History.
Do you wanna know a secret, Kyle? When I became the Devilkiller and I sat upon my throne in Hell, it was more fun than it is up here.
Now I have to deal with people who frown upon me because I may possibly be the anti-Christ. That's great and all, because I am, it isn't as exciting as it is when you control demons. It's just not fun.
Enough with me being cryptic- I leave you with one piece of advice.
*At this point Devilkiller looks up into the camera, glaring into the lens*
Give a man a truth, and he will think for a day. Teach a man a reason, and he will think forever. Think about your position in WFWF kid, it's not just the truth, the reason comes tonight.
*With that Devilkiller looks back down as the camera fades to black*
----End---
Well, I'm back. Most don't like it, and I'm sorry, but eh.
Thanks guys for the chance! And Kyle, don't take this crap to heart, you're a great writer and do better every week!
