Once upon a zany afternoon, Michael Graves, the infamous wrestler, found himself caught up in a wild and wacky escapade. 

Dressed in his flashy lime wrestling attire, complete with a skull printed mask, he decided to take his shenanigans to the city park.

As he snuck through the park bushes, Graves couldn't help but ham it up. He moved with exaggerated stealth, wiggling his eyebrows and quickly walking on his tippy toes, making cartoonish gestures that would make Bugs Bunny proud.

In the park, amidst a bunch of unsuspecting picnickers, Graves spotted his target: a young girl enjoying a sandwich on a bench. With a mischievous grin, he concocted a harebrained plan to scare her out of her wits and into his sack.

First, he grabbed a giant inflatable hammer and a water squirting flower, all the while stifling laughter. He tiptoed closer and closer, his heart racing with excitement for his grand entrance.

Just as he was about to spring his prank, a squirrel scurried up his leg, causing Graves to yelp and jump in surprise. The squirrel, sensing the perfect opportunity, grabbed the water squirting flower and sprayed Graves right in the face, drenching him from head to toe.

With his mask askew and water dripping off his nose, Graves struggled to regain his composure. 

Undeterred, Graves pressed on. He reached into his dry pocket and pulled out a whoopee cushion, placing it on the bench right where the girl was about to sit back down with a second sandwich. He hid behind a tree, eagerly waiting for the big laugh.

As the girl innocently sat down, Graves let out a raucous giggle, barely containing his glee. But before the cushion could play its hilarious trick, a flock of birds swooped down, snatching the cushion and causing stray feathers to fly everywhere as the whoopee cushion sucked them all into it!

In a frenzy of feathers, Graves hopped and spun around, trying to free himself from the feathery rainfall, all while the girl looked on in disbelief.

Finally breaking free from the chaos, Graves stood before the girl, feathers sticking out in all directions. He scratched his head sheepishly and offered her a comical bow. "Ta-da! The great wrestler slash stalker slash kidnapper, at your service!"

Instead of fear, the girl burst into laughter, unable to resist the absurdity of the situation. Graves couldn't help but chuckle along with her...

Before shoving her into his sack!

With a wave and a wink, Graves bid the girl's parents farewell, them none the wiser to what had just taken place. Graves skipped away from the park with his sack over his shoulder, feathers still fluttering in his wake. 

---

Micheal Graves has resurfaced as the crazed masked wrestler and is now fully embracing his sinister mystique. 

He has embarked on a bizarre child-kidnapping spree, leaving his victims bound and gagged in a dank and dark basement as he revels in his twisted scheme.

Dancing the robot as he tosses the final remnants of his battle worn RoboGravy Armor into the rubbish.

Bound by duct tape, the captive children find themselves unwitting and unwilling spectators to Graves' unnerving performance.

Taped over all of their faces, paper masks of XWF X-Treme Champion, Mark Flynn, who had recently fallen victim to Graves' cunning-recklessness as he ended the life of Lilabeth, the Make A Wish kid that TK masterfully placed into the arms of the one man badder than him, “the worst man” Micheal Graves!

Now, the stolen championship belt lay before us as a tantalizing symbol of defiance, a trophy that Graves had snatched from Flynn's grasp as the Lilabeth mist blinded him to Graves' escape.

Surrounded by the faint glint of semi-gloss paper Mark Flynn masks , Micheal Graves stood at the center, his skull-masked face twisted into an unsettling grin.

He began his deranged promo, his words slithering through the darkness like a deranged ring leader.

"Welcome, my captive audience, to the theater of the absurd, where reality intertwines with madness."

Complete with magic fingers!

"Mark Flynn... Your victory over me at Bad Medicine was when the weight of defeat crushed my spirit. That loss has plagued my existence ever since. I sought solace in countless reinventions, trying to escape the shame, the humiliation. I became a woman, again… I even dug Cadryn up for some classic tag action…"

"I even donned the guise of a RoboCop because I hoped the metallic shell would shield me from the truth!"

Graves' voice trembled with a mix of bitterness and determination.

"But Bobby Bourbon... oh, Bobby Bourbon. He saw through my charade, exposing me for the fraud that I had become. The explosion that tore away my metal facade was symbolic, a manifestation of the lies I had weaved around myself, much like the lies that you weave trying to convince the world that Mark Flynn is a ’Good, Guy’. I’ve shared the ring with Mark Flynn. I’ve been helped, hurt, and fucked by Mark Flynn, and in every interaction we’ve ever had, one thing has always been abundantly clear to me: Mark Flynn is No Good Guy!"

"So, in that moment, as I sulked stage right, embarrassed and ashamed, my RoboSuit in shambles, I made a choice: No longer would I hide behind false personas or flimsy armor."

"No longer would I be a mere imitation of what I once was. It was time to embrace the absurdity, the madness that IS Micheal Graves!"

He paused, his gaze piercing through the darkness, as he removed his mask, revealing his face to the world.

"This mask, it may seem comical, absurd even. But it represents the raw essence of who I truly am, despite how it may appear. This mask is me, stripped bare."

Graves clenched his fists and slid the mask back over his face, his eyes burning with a newfound fire.

"Mark Flynn, the Optimal Path might be last year's news, but I have traveled through the depths of my own despair to stand here today, a man reborn to his own madness!"

”And there ain’t nothing I’d love more than to share some of that “madness” with my Good pal, Mark Flynn!”

Graves leans down and gets up in the faces of the captive kiddies. 

"ARE YOU ENJOYING THE EXPERIENCE SO FAR!?!"

The sounds of the children whimpering fill the silence as Graves stands tall looking satisfied. 

"Tough break, "Good Guy"! I can only imagine the pain, suffering, mental trauma, Hell... physical trauma that you've experienced over the past few days! She WAS hugging YOUR leg when you made her go POP, afterall!"

"Mental note, work the leg!"

"But yeah, potential crippling injuries aside, that mental anguish you must be experiencing? Is it too early to get checked for PTSD? Heh, maybe you can spin this all into a positive and use it as an excuse to get that good ass medical grade shit!"

"At least then, having to suffer the trauma of helplessly watching me once again steal your championship fair and square AND know that you came within a fucking cunt hair of having everything you wanted before big dumb Flynn mindlessly pressed the nuclear option!"

"Knock-knock!"

Graves mimes a second voice in place of one of the kiddies. 

"who's there?"

"Lilly!"

Graves again mimes a child's voice. 

"Lilly-who?"

"Lilly-Who needs villains when you have 'Good Guys' like Flynn? AMIRIGHT? Talk about a twisted sense of justice!"

"Hopefully THESE kids are safe from Mark Flynn's 'heroic' incompetence! Or was it vapid villainary?"

"Wait... WAS FLYNN ALWAYS THE BAD GUY!?!"

"Well uh-oh!"

"He fooled everyone into thinking he was fighting for justice, but now we all know he was actually fighting for 'just-him'! All that effort he put into the con, working hard, suffering Ned Kaye, making his kickouts more Captain Planet friendly, yet filling the room with deadly silent methane whenever he kipped up right after..."

"Yeah, I got a good sniffer, you big phony!"

Graves taunted with a sinister grin, relishing the opportunity to take jabs at his rival. 

"And you are a phony, just as much as you're a villain! How do I know? Well, it takes one to know one, on both accounts! The only question now is: Who's the bigger phony-villain here? I'm pretty fucking hated myself, BUT, I've never exploded any kids! Kidnapped, yes! Exploded, no! HUGE DIFFERENCE!"

"But YOU have!" Graves accused, pointing his finger at various Flynn masks staring back at him. 

"And that's what I call a comedy of errors! You thought you were the 'Good Guy,' Flynn, but now the world sees your true colors! You're nothing more than a fraud that's too cheap to buy a superhero cape!"

"And that championship belt I'M holding, Flynn?" Graves continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, it's the perfect symbol of your incompetence! You couldn't protect it, you couldn't keep it safe, and now it rests in the hands of a true mastermind, yours truly, the one and only "Dark Warrior" Micheal Graves!"

"Now, let me give you a piece of advice, Flynn," Graves sneered, leaning in closer to the camera, his eyes burning with intensity. "Prepare yourself for the most extreme match of your life. Because when you step into that ring with me, there will be no hiding behind your 'Good Guy' facade. They'll be no Optimal Path. No more masks, no more illusions. It'll be just you and me, and I will expose you for the fraud you are!"

"What was it that you said to me? You will "literally murder me"? Was that it? Well pal, it's time to put your money where your mouth is! At least, that's what I would say, if your dumbass didn't just agree to the match without asking for the details. I got special permission. Told the bosses how this was a BIG match. Flynn/Gravy main event! Free TV! Great build for the coming Pay-Per-View!"

"But it COULD be bigger! It COULD bring in more eyes than have ever been on the XWF! And I was totally going to tell you all about it before you rushed the ring like some rabid animal!"

Graves shakes his head disapprovingly as he glares an a whiney Flynn mask wearing child.

"Oh well, you can find out now! See, I'm Micheal fucking Graves! I kicked Peter Gilmour's ass and became the most X-Treme man in the XWF! And I paid Hero_Xtreme5000 to recognize me as a fucking legend! I'M A LEGEND FLYNN, and X-Treme matches are for fucking pussies! We're going to crank it up to eleven motherfucker!"

"See, Lilabeth was meant to model the very devices that we're going to be wearing when we fight over this!"

Graves kicks the X-Treme Championship towards the camera.

"How was I to know that you'd end up with the detonator AND mindlessly press it?"

"Oh well, at least now you know what you're in for! You and me, c4 collars! Two poles on opposite ring post. One of them, the detonator for your collar! The other for mine! It's a little match I like to call; Headburst Havoc!" 

"One of us ain't walking out of this one in one piece, bucko, and if you think I fear death, fuck you! Even if I can die, I'll take that shit over losing to Mark-fucking-Flynn one more Goddamned time; but I ain't expecting to have my head exploded, oh no! No, no, no, no, NO! That's you! I'm going to pop your head like a Kid in the Hall!"

"You may have fooled the world for a while, Flynn, but I see right through your act. And soon, everyone else will too. So, get ready to face the consequences of your actions, and prepare to watch as your beloved championship title slips away from your grasp once again."

One of the terrified children musters the courage to speak, their voice trembling with fear.

"Nobody believes Flynn is a hero..."

Graves lowers himself, getting closer to the paper mask of Mark Flynn, their eyes locked in an intense gaze.

"What did you say!?"

The frightened child musters the courage to repeat their statement, their voice still trembling.

"Nobody believes that Mark Flynn is a good guy..."

Graves' face contorts with anger, his eyes narrowing as he responds sharply.

"Well, of course they don't! Mark killed a kid on national TV!"

The child shakes their head, fear mixed with determination evident in their eyes.

"No, you don't understand! Nobody ever thought he was a good guy to begin with!"

Graves' anger intensifies, his voice booming with frustration.

"How dare you! Mark Flynn was a hero, a symbol of justice! He fought for what was right! Everyone believed it! Everyone but me! I saw through it! I saw through Mark Flynn!"

The child's voice remains steady, defiance burning within them.

"That's what he wanted you to think. But everyone knows the truth. Mark Flynn was never a hero. He only cares about himself and his wrestling career. Everyone watching the show knows that Mark Flynn is self serving, dishonest, and unhinged."

Graves' face turns crimson, a mix of rage and disbelief etched upon his features. The truth presented by the young captive challenges everything he believed.

"YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A FANTASY, A MERE ILLUSION! SHUT YOUR MOUTH!"

Graves defiantly turns his back to the camera, a mixture of fury and confusion pulsating through his every move.

"Oh, Mark, you have no idea how much pleasure I derive from watching you squirm under the weight of your own deceit. You see, Flynn, I exposed you for what you truly are. I lured you into my twisted web, leading you to believe that you had the upper hand, that you were the hero fighting against injustice. But in reality, you were nothing more than a pawn in my grand design. I made you explode Lilabeth, and oh, how you fell for it!"

"But here's the thing, Flynn..."

"I recently stumbled upon an inconvenient truth, a truth that pierces through my twisted narrative."

"It appears that everyone knew all along that you weren't the hero you claimed to be."

"They saw through your facade, your phony acts of righteousness. They saw you for the fraud you are, Mark Flynn."

"And that knowledge stings me like a thousand daggers."

"Yet, tonight, I choose to ignore that fact."

"I choose to disregard the truth that threatens to crumble the foundation of my vindication."

"Because, you see, Flynn, I am not a man who bows down to reality."

"I am a creature of darkness, a master of deception, and my purpose, my sole purpose, is to make you pay for the sins you have committed against me, regardless of what the world may already know!"

"So, Flynn, prepare yourself!"

"Prepare to face the wrath of a man who lives in shadows, a man who revels in chaos and revels in your pain. At Warfare, as our paths intertwine once again, I will unleash a torment upon you that will have you begging me to press the detonator!"

"And remember this, Mark Flynn: even if the world already knows your true colors, I will continue to paint you as the disgraced hero."

"Because in this dark theater of mine, the narrative is mine to control, and I shall shape it as I see fit.

"And... As for these kids you failed to protect, Mark Flynn." Graves said, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Well, they're just the beginning of the chaos I'm about to unleash upon you. So buckle up, Flynn, because when I'm done with you, the XWF will know who the real villain is. And it's not you, oh no, it's ME!"

"Cause you'll be DEAD! MUHahahahaHAhahahaha"

The camera faded to black as Graves' eerie laughter echoed in the darkness.

---

The sound of his raspy voice echoed through the dimly lit basement.

Graves held a cellphone adorned with a stylized snake coiled around the device. 

With a mischievous grin on his face, he dialed a number known only to a select few. 

The line crackled, and a low, hissing voice answered on the other end.

"Reptilian High Council, this is Agent 47. Identify yourself."  The voice hissed.

"It's Micheal Graves, master of the squared circle, and tonight, I come bearing a most persuasive offer." 

The voice on the other end paused, intrigued by the wrestler's audacity. "Micheal Graves? The freak wrestler? What could you possibly offer the Reptilian High Council?"

"Ah, my serpentine friend, I have something that even your kind covets. You see, I possess a secret vault filled with a collection of little kiddies. Each one is primed and ready to be delivered to your reptilian brethren." Graves declared, his voice oozing with confidence.

The reptilian agent on the other end of the line was taken aback, surprised by the audacity of the offer. "Are you suggesting that you have... human children to sell to us?"

"Indeed! I offer you a hand-picked selection of the finest specimens our world has to offer. And they're all yours for the right price."

The reptilian agent considered the offer for a moment, his forked tongue darting out between scaly lips. "Very well, Graves. We shall send a representative to inspect your vault and negotiate the terms of this transaction."

Graves' eyes gleamed with excitement. 

"Excellent, but I don't want money. I require the use of a machine thought lost to mankind! I'll email over the details! Until then, prepare yourself for a visit that shall leave your scaly comrades in awe, my serpentine ally! Keep your fangs sharp and your scales gleaming."

With that, the call ended, leaving Micheal Graves standing alone in the darkness with his Flynn masked captives. 

As he pocketed his phone, his mind filled with visions of grandeur, the masked wrestler began to prepare for the arrival of the reptilian inspector, confident that his outlandish plan would soon become a reality.