WarSaw Pact Returns

It’s been over seven months, seven months since WarSaw Pact had been in the ring. Now the mountain of a man known as Buzzsaw Bundy was making his way down the strip. He hadn’t seen Warbird in over three weeks, but got a drunken text from him shortly after their new deal had been inked, which led him here. Being over seven feet tall have the big man that added edge as his eyes scanned for his tag partner. Still, he stopped near the Bellagio Fountains and pulled out his cell phone...



Warbird, while being an asshole and consummate professional drunk, was a pretty smart guy when it came to cards, and he was now sitting at the black jack table in the Excalibur with a large pile of chips. A small crowd had gathered around, including a few of the casino’s finest security agents. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and Warbird let his large bet ride. Checking his phone he saw a text from Buzzsaw, just as the dealer flipped cards over and busted...

“Annnnd, that’s my cue boys.” Warbird gathered his chips, and turned to the nearest casino employee, “Time to cash out.”

As he carries his winnings towards the cashier's booth, Warbird looks at the PYT draping herself on his arm. “Not bad for only having $83 in my pocket.”

The PYT just leaned in harder, “Well, as good as you played those cards, I know you’re going to get lucky again tonight...” She licked her bright red lips to accentuate her meaning.



Warbird was right in the middle of giving this arm candy the D like never before when there was a knock on the door. He didn’t even break stroke, “Fuck off, I’m burying the missile!”

Hell, he didn’t even stop when a burly wanna be guido kicked the door open and leveled a High Point C9 at him. “Don’t you worry your little balls there skippy, I’m just here to collect the money.” He looked at his girl, “Trixie, times up. Get your shit and get out. Vito has a VIP for you, some big CEO, not this crusty looking homeless fuck.”

“Who’s crusty looking?!?” Warbird was now just sitting on the bed as the lady of the evening dressed and left. “Such a shame...”

On the way out Trixie pulled the door shut, granted it didn’t exactly fit the frame anymore, it was more or less secured. “Now that she’s gone, it’s time to talk payment for services rendered.”



Buzzsaw was on his way back to Warbird’s room at the La Quinta Las Vegas Airport South on Surrey street, when his eyes picked up the damage to the door. He just shook his head, “Dammit Warbird, this is why any decent hotel won’t let us book a room for shows, just once I’d like you to not destroy the room...”

However as he approached, he heard the sounds of a scuffle?, yeah a scuffle inside. Shrugging to himself as the door was already busted, he kicked it open with enough force that the door flew off its hinges and bashed against the far wall, “What is going on in...” Buzzsaw stopped mid sentence as he saw a naked Warbird holding some strange man in a Lotus Lock that he was about to pass out from. “Ummm, Warbird, I know you get your kinks in odd places...”

Warbird let go as the man finally passed out lit up a cigarette, and opened a warm can of Camo Genuine Ale. “Well, apparently when you clean up at the tables, the pimps in this town target your ass for a shakedown...”

Buzzsaw shook his head and began to pick up the mess as Warbird continued, “I guess Little Tony here didn’t figure on picking out the next Tag Champs as a target.” Warbird picked up the man and began to tie him into the chair, stuffing a nasty hanky into the man’s mouth before duct taping his mouth shut. Taking a big swig of the warm beer, he spat it into Tony’s face. “Wake up bitch!”

Tony came to, cursing through the make shift gag, “Mmm mmmm mmmmmpf.”

Warbird turned to the big man, “I don’t know, I think he hasn’t learned his lesson yet... What do you think, Clinton him?” Picking up the man’s dropped gun, he squeezed the trigger repeatedly to no avail, even racking the slide a couple times, “Can’t use this piece of shit thought. Need something more reliable for him to commit suicide by shooting himself in the back of the head twice....” Warbird shrugged and casually tossed the C9.



Buzzsaw ducked and turned to Warbird, “What the fu... crap, man...”

Warbird just looked at the discarded gun, and to the wall where the round hit, and back several times, completely unfazed. “Well, no shit... I guess you just have to throw the gun for it to work...”

Right about then a trio of Las Vegas’ finest burst through the doors, already on their way from calls by other guests...



It had taken WarSaw Pact’s manager almost 12 hours to clear up the mess from the La Quinta, and he’d even sent his personal legal team. Now, our intrepid fire and ice duo were making their way towards where APW was setting up for Monday Night’s PPV. They were in Buzzsaw’s new customized Jeep Gladiator, a signing gift from their mysterious manager. The customizations were based in part on the XMT concepts, but with some better comforts. Buzzsaw looked over at his beleaguered teammate and smiled, Warbird seemed in his element, well, to an extent. While he was enjoying the ride, it was like watching an amputee try walking again, there was just something missing...

It wasn’t long before they arrived at the location, still in its early stages, still the ring was up. Well, partially up, it was just the frame and posts, hastily assembled so that the crew could lay out the makeshift ‘arena’. As the Jeep came to a stop, WarSaw Pact saw APW interviewer Troy Butler waving and walking their way. With a wave Buzzsaw exited his Jeep, while Warbird simply hopped the roll bar doors and scanned the area. “Clear!”

Buzzsaw approached Troy and shook his hand, watching as it disappeared into his own, Warbird just looked at it and declined. “I’d rather not, been sick...”

Tony looked a little bummed, and Buzzsaw just shook his head in amusement. “Well, you wanted us out here for the interview Tony, Fire away.”

“Yes, please, point that thing someplace else...”

“Sure, do you guys wanna do it standing here, or shall we go get chairs?”

“Of course we’ll get some chairs, I haven’t had enough beer to do it standing up...”

The trio make their way to the announcer’s area and take a seat in some fold up metal chairs, and Buzzsaw’s bows under the weight.

“Fucking hell Buzz, go on a diet you tub of lard...”

Buzzsaw shook his head and Tony looked even more confused, “Anyway, let me be one of the first to welcome you two back into the wonderful world of Alpha Pro. How has your time away been?”

“A fucking blur of booze, women, and sex...”

“Well, unlike my mate here, I focused on training like I always do. A good mix of agility, cardio and weights training.”

“In other words, Buzz spent time power lifting trees, and traipsing through the woods of the great white north like the man-beastie he is...”

Buzz saw just shook his head, “At least I didn’t have to go to rehab.”

“Eat shit, everyone knows rehab is for fucking quitters. Besides, I found a better beer than PBR, Camo Genuine Ale, my new sponsor by the way. Remember kids, PBR is swill, and Camo is swell...”

Tony looks at Warbird like he’s a dog listening to a high pitched sound, “O... K...

Moving on, it's no secret that WarSaw Pact was quite the team to be reckoned with in your last run. Now that you've returned, do you still plan to dominate everyone in your way?"

“Fuck yeah! It’s not a plan, it’s the god-damned inevitability.”

“As you can see Tony, Warbird here is like the proverbial racehorse in this instance. He’s in the gate, all ready for business, and once that time goes off and the gates open, damn the torpedo, he’s coming at everyone like the A-Bomb at Hiroshima.”

“Interesting analogy, but I get the point. You're making your grand return here on Monday Night at 2020 Ways To Die in a Tornado Tag Match. Being as you don’t need to be tagging in and out, do you think this will play to your strengths, or are you worried about it being a four on two affair?”

Buzzsaw sat back in contemplation, but Warbird didn’t hesitate to pounce, “Worried? What the fuck do we have to worry about, some Punch and Judy goodie two shoe’s go eat your Wheaties team, or yet 2/3 of the Architects? Nah, it doesn’t matter what those guys do. Sure a 4-on-2 around the world sounds scary, to the untrained pussy.”

“Look, it is a simple fact, neither of those two teams wants the other to win, and even if they team up against us, Warbird is a heartless freak who doesn’t know how to stop, and I’m the biggest, strongest athlete to ever grace a squared circle.” Buzzsaw yawned and stretched the chair creaking under the strain.

“Dammit Tony, your boring the piss outta him...”

Again, Tony just gives Warbird a confused look. “Let’s talk about your opponents for a moment. First there is the new pairing of ‘The Boss’ Latoya Hixx, and John ‘The Doctor of Thuganomicks’ Blade...”

“Bwahahahahahahahahahahahaha....” Warbird inhales big, “hahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”



Warbird then spits and acts like he’s trying not to puke...

“Sorry about that, I choked on the sheer humor of your statement...”

“Humor? Statem... What?”

“Come on, are those really their names? Fuck, it’s like they hit random on some online wrestling name generator...”

“Well, Blade and Hixx...”

“Blade and Hixx?!? That’s what they chose as a name? God damn that sounds like a shitty name for a crap buddy cop comedy... Fuck me...”

“Tony, Blade and Hixx are a pair of young wrestlers looking to make a name for themselves. A couple of still wet behind the ears pups in this business. Warbird and I have cut our teeth long ago, and fought some real tough guys some wins, some losses. To be honest, we’ve both seen young men and women just like Blade and Hixx, every single one of them were chewed up and spit out. Look, I know full well what it’s like being a role model for the young fans....”

“Pfffffft...”

“I also know how important it is to approach your opponents, the business and most importantly yourself with respe...”