Welcome to Big Dick’s.

A nightclub that notoriously plays host to an underbelly of c-list celebrities and their seedy affairs.

Folks like Jay Santos, the blue-haired runner up to Hell’s Kitchen who also appears on shows like Bar Rescue, and Master Chef *sometimes*. He’s sitting in the corner of the club snorting cocaine and playing Five Finger Fillet with a chef’s knife.

Then there’s the Hauk-Tua girl. Nobody knows her real name. She’s a real imposing, mysterious figure. She’s in another corner of the club retching back champagne on an empty stomach, peddling worn toe rings on eBay. Pauly Shore and Soulja-Boy join her booth; they have a business proposition that involves a movie studio front.

Elsewhere there’s Tila Tequila, the drummer from the Late Show band, the guy who filmed Metallica's S&M Live concert, and the guy who played Cyclops in the 2000 XMen film. Each of them engaging in some nefarious activity or the other.

Needless to say, this is a very dangerous place. A place so dangerous that it ran off, or killed its last 5 bouncers.

Enter Thias Watts-

He ducks his head under the doorway, and outside of the sound of him sucking on his teeth, he makes a quiet entrance into the club for such a big man.

Some of you may remember Thias. The seven-foot-three, former bodyguard to Ned Kaye, who once had his face partially seared off by XWF legend Doc D’Ville. Back in 2021, this one-time muscle for hire made his rounds on the XWF Anarchy brand, engaging in a legendary feud with the artist formerly known as ‘Big Money’ Oswald, Mr. Oz.

But that was before the dark times.

Before the artery and heart troubles that nearly killed him.

Before Ned Kaye started doing podcast ad-reads for hair products.

Before ‘Big Money’ started wasting his wealth on a wrestling school for scrawny TikTok influencers.

Before the XWF, and the world moreover, got so damn soft.

Thias observes the club, with a mirthless expression.

He can't believe this is what his life has become. Responding to a job offer to protect a bunch of second rate nobodies who lucked into money while they do a bunch of drugs, commit tax fraud, and fumble their last shred of cultural capital on Big Dick’s sticky vinyl seats.

Thias doesn’t speak. He just exhales through his nose.  Sucks his teeth again. Loud enough this time that the 2000 XMen Cyclops stops mid-line of crushed adoral

The DJ booth cuts the music.

Jay Santos drops his knife.

Hauk-Tua swallows, and gags.

All eyes are on Thias. His massive frame. His horrifically scarred face, that looks like Seal’s lupus scars. He folds his arms forward in front of his crotch, and takes a squeeze

“I’m here to see Big… Richard.”

“Dick!”

Thias hears a shrill voice shout out behind him and turns around and sees



A tiny man, no more than five-foot-five, speaking with a worn toothpick gnawing between his big white teeth.

“The name’s Dick.”

The little man grins. He’s wearing a snakeskin blazer with the sleeves rolled up and a bluetooth headset… with no earpiece. Just the plastic arch.

“Dick Maggit.

Owner.

Operatrator.

Visionary.

The Founder of Big Dick’s. The first ever club dedicated to celebrity image recovery.

I have a program here. Big Dick’s Celebrity Underground Makeover Management Initiative for Notoriety Growth.”


Thias just groans out a ,“Hm.”

“It’s Big Dick’s C.U.M.M.I-”

”-I know what the fuck it means”

“Whoa, whoa, big boy. I guess you must be Watts. Perfect” Dick chuckles and gestures behind the bar, come back here. Let’s talk business. You’re my new head of security.”

Thias doesn’t move. ”What happened to the old one”

“No one ever said that pushing these washed up c-listers and people with 15 minutes of fame to new heights was easy. You gotta’ get extreme with it… drugs, sex scandals, plastic surgery. It can get violent. Dumb instagram models overdosing. Jealous ex boyfriends. Ripped off investors… it’s a job that requires a man with special talents, and thus, it comes with special perks”

  ”Like what” he sucks his teeth

“All the four locos you can drink. And a backroom living quarters with working AC. And, get this! I got a direct line to the XWF booker himself. Heard you were lookin’ for a way back in.”

”...” he sucks his teeth, just about to respond, then his phone vibrates.

He looks at the screen

“New Text From:
LITTLE MONEY OSWALD”   

”Hm” he looks back up at Big Dick, ”Not interested.”

Thais turns to leave,

“But the money’s real big!”

”For protecting a bunch of washed up never-has-beens who need their egos picked up after constantly losing their asses? Nah son… the money can’t be near big enough.”

“30 grand a month.”

Thias stops in his tracks and turns just his head over his shoulder,

”I can make a lot more money by SMASHING little hoes like that.” he sucks his teeth one last time before leaving this Big Dick in name only’s establishment.


—-

Been a while hadn’t it, you no-game-having c-lister “wrestlers”? Been a while since XWF Anarchy has had to deal with my big-ass walking down the ramp. Well that’s some bad fucking buisness there, because let me be the first to tell y’all: Anarchy has gone soft. Soft like Summer Page’s boyfriend's dick-game when she’s cucking him for that little boy James Shark. Soft like Reggie Estrada’s comprehension of the English language.Soft like my competition will be week in and week out now that Thias the GIANT, Thias the MIGHTY, Thias the TITAN has taken the call.

Summer Page only got skills for LITTLE matches, fucking loser ass hoe. Losing her little shit when gold gets put in front of her.

Reggie Est-NADA got NADA damn thing on Thias. I’ve beat the shit out of his whole crew multiple times.

Y’all little. Y’all soft.

And on Anarchy y’all gonna’ get taken by someone truly HARD someone really goddamn BIG.”