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John Austin · (11-14-2013)

ACT 1: Back!

Last time we seen John Austin he teamed with Michael McBride and they faced LJ Havok and Griffin MacAlister in a tag match and sadly came up a bit short. This marked the first time in a long time that a tag match ended with all four competitors unable to stand. After this, John took a short sabbatical from XWF and now is back. Some say he is back, the man behind the mask and he is definitely out of control.

We open up our scene in at a pond located near a small wooded area. There is a brisk chill in the air as we can say this weather fucking sucks. The sky is turning to a dark haze and the birds have definitely flown south this winter, lucky bastards. We see John Austin over to the side, sitting on a giant rock. His head hangs down low and a black trench-coat covers his whole body. We see him reach into his pocket and pull out a tightly rolled cigar. He places the cigar in his mouth and slowly lights it. The smell of the grape flavored cigar fills the air giving off a sweet and tasty smell. He takes a few puffs and raises his head facing the camera. He holds the cigar in his fingers and begins to speak

It feels like I have been in XWF for a long LONG time. You know I have faced a lot of people but it's nothing like coming back from a sabbatical and facing two young guns in our company and showing them who the top dogs truly are. Gunner and Damien, let me introduce you to myself, my name is John Austin. I came into XWF as a young gun like you guys and I was already facing main eventers my third match in. I worked my way to the top and now I am one of the top guys in this company and the winner of the first ever Thunderbowl.

My partner, well she is my light in the darkness I live in. She has hair brighter than the sun. She can beat you within in a inch of your fucking lives WITHOUT even blinking a eye. Her name is Christine Nash and she is one of the baddest females walking the face of this planet. You cross my lady, you will drown in the shores of hell with all the rest of the pathetic worms that have laced up a pair of boots in this company.

So I have been studying up on both you young lions from a far and let me chime in with my two cents. Gunner Layfield, let me start with you. You are the son of the man who can throw the most vicious clothesline east of the Mississippi River. You also seem to be ex Military, well motherfucker let me give you a giant cookie for all these accomplishments. You see, there is no army in the world that can handle Christine or myself. You may have faced some evil foreigners on the battle field and you defeated them with ease but my boy, Semper Fi or not...I am the most evilest motherfucker wearing a pair of boots and I don't need to carry around a assault rifle to prove my dominance.

If dealing with one Callaway isn't enough, I get to face you Damien. If you put much effort into wrestling like your sister does, you will be one tough hombre to face. Listen man, I don't know what your sister has been dealing with but tell her my offer stills stands. Regardless Damien, you may be a protective big bro and you may be a fighter but look into the mirror for a split second and ask yourself is facing Nash and Austin really worth it? Is it worth feeling the wrath of my angel bestowed upon you? Is it worth getting out wrestled from one of the greatest technical wrestlers alive today? Personally, what I would do is tend to family matters while you can because facing Nash and I will be your death warrant.

So can you guys do it?, can you make a name for yourself? Can you step in the ring with Team Evil and do the unthinkable. Let's see if your stones are big enough fellas. I want you to remember something, I am John Austin. I am the man behind the mask and come my return back on Madness, I will be out of control. You never know what John Austin will be coming into Madness on Monday. Will I be the hardest working man in this business or will you get the psychotic that praises everything that is unholy? For your sake, I hope you get option one *John laughs slyly*

Before I end this, let me leave you two with a favorite little poem. This was written by a man named Mark Slaughter. Hate has burned a gaping hole; The rancid reek of charring flesh is dancing on my very soul. As the rising fumes enmesh; My crumpled heart, I play the role. Of crabby fart, gassing off. A diatribe, bleeding out a bitter part one ugly twisted man and fellas you are looking at him *John laughs evilly*

John flicks the cigar off into the distance before getting up off the giant rock. He begins to whistle as he walks off into the distance to end our very scene

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