High Octane Wrestling
Published: Written by: Cecilworth Farthington

Dirk Dickwood was an enraged man. He felt betrayed and cast off for having the best interests of his client at heart. He knew what was best for the man 


Dirk was so mad, so drippingly, sweatingly mad about the whole situation that he knew the only way to have his vengeance… photoshopping Cecilworth’s head on top of gay pornographic images and then posting them on twitter dot com, tagging Cecilworth to prove he wasn’t a coward.


Deep down though, Dirk knew this was a stupid plan, it would only get the homophobia lobby on his back and he didn’t need that at a time like this. 


Also Dirk didn’t really want to spend hours researching over a massive pile of porn to find “just the right pose”, so that was also weighing quite heavily on him. 


So Dirk Dickwood decided not to do any of that. No, he needed a better plan, a real plan, a big ole wowzer. As he sat in front of his laptop, he slammed each key in a gleeful rage, joyful plotting in the document titled “The Destruction of Cecilworth Farthington”. 


What was in that document? What plans does Dirk have in mind for his former comrade? Well… that is not today’s story.


But just know that he’s there.


He’s lurking.


He’s waiting.


He’s there.



We find ourselves in front of a rather mundane photo studio, the kind with a black backdrop and lights and cameras up the wazoo, ready for whichever star, starlette or starperson deems it suitable to stand afront the big black canvas of clickety clack. Today the lucky person is the former self-proclaimed OCW Megastar and current measurable HOW Superchamp, Cecilworth M! J Farthington. 


Cecilworth is dressed in his finest affair, by which I mean his tight black monogrammed trunks and a black satin scarf that he has twisted and hurled around his neck. Sitting atop his left shoulder rests the alluring 97red leather of the HOW World Championship. On the opposite side, given equal prestige and valuable shoulder time is the HOW ICON Championship. Cecilworth uses the scarf to buff up both belts and then readies himself for the camera. On the outskirts, a small, petite man holds a notepad and pen and begins to bellow questions in the direction of our hero. Let’s call him by a name and I have decided that the name he will be called by is Scoops O’Toole.


O’Toole: Mr. Farthington, how does it feel to be sitting atop the wrestling industry?










Farthington: Well… that’s an interesting question that has many facets that need to be explored and let me tell you something, I will certainly take a lot of time to consider this question and at the appropriate juncture I will provide an answer that will provide a definitive response.


O’Toole begins to blink, no one is certain if it is due to confusion or the light bulbs that keep flashing during the photo shoot.


O’Toole: That seems like a very evasive answer…


Farthington: I will endevour to answer all your questions to the fullest and robustness. Is robustness a word? I assume it’s a word and it’s how I will be responding to everything you throw my way. You don’t get to be the Complete Champ without being able to answer a question or two.


Cecilworth’s left cheek curls up in a light sneering grin as he looks at the World Championship, the photographer takes another quick snap and our boy CM!JF recentres himself once more.


O’Toole: I’m getting the impression that you may not want to answer that question, do you feel like you’re not at the top of the mountain?


Farthington: Well Scoops, if I may call you that, mountain climbing is very important to be as the HOW World and ICON Champion and I have made it my number one priority to be higher on the mountain than any other High Octane talent.










The noises of the photo studio almost feel overwhelming as Cecilworth readjusts himself once more. This time yanking the ICON Championship off of his shoulder and holding it up high to the heavens.


O’Toole: Many fans have noticed that have become quite obsessive and protective of the ICON Championship, despite becoming . There were reports that at a recent autograph signing, what you did to the ICON Championship was and I quote from a witness “some real perv shit”. Would you say that your focus on becoming the longest reigning ICON Champion in HOW history has brought out another side of you?


Farthington: Scoopster, I would appreciate it if you kept the good name of the ICON Championship out of your mouth. She is a private person and would hardly want to get involved in your tabloid muckraking. What many fans saw at the autograph signing was a genuine connection between the two of us and if they seem to be weirded out or disgusted by true love then I think that’s very much a reflection of them than of I. Now please, ask me something that doesn’t involve these two saucy minxes on his shoulders.


Cecilworth lowers the ICON Championship again, giving a little peck on the plate of the belt before resting it back on his shoulder. He repositions himself for a similar shot but this time with the World Championship in it’s 97red glory being the one held up high.


O’Toole: Well, I suppose I should then ask you about Refueled 8 this week and your match with Lindsay Troy…


Farthington: As I made public earlier this week, I understand the risks and dangers of entering a match with Ms. Troy. Yes, she may have went through hell at Rumble at the Rock but you know what, these kind of things seem to fuel people like her. They get a new vigour from intense bodily harm and even if she is limping down to the ring on a goddamn crutch, I know she will still be looking to put every ounce of her being into proving herself as the singles star she wants to be. Some people may view this as a token title defense but I know it is much more than that. Ms. Troy wishes to take my betrothed away from me to help her own ego and well… I can’t very well let that happen now can I, Mr. O’Toole? 


Scoops O’Toole pulls out a second pencil from the fedora sitting atop his head with a piece of paper labelled “PRESS!” shoved inside the headband. He continues to scribble copious notes of Cecilworth’s comments.


O’Toole: Speaking of Rumble at the Rock, there’s been a lot of murmurs and whispers that the end of your match with Halitosis and Dan Ryan showed that perhaps you are not quite as mentally stable as previously thought to be. I mean, I don’t want to throw the term out lightly but “attempted murder” has been used in association with your toilet based battery of the former Halitosis… and he hasn’t been seen in public SINCE that match. Between that and your lynching of MJF at War Games, would you agree that title matches seem to bring out a little bit more of a dangerous side of you when you feel threatened?


Farthington: That’s a bit of a loaded one, isn’t it Mr. Scoops O’ Toole? Look, I’m a competitive guy, I like to win and anything that I have done has been well within the rules of the contest I am participating in at the moment in time. It was perfectly legal to hang MJF by her neck and would have certainly provided me with an opportunity to win War Games if a certain person who is now dead to me didn’t get his grubby little paws involved. Same at Rumble at the Rock, perfectly legal to slam Regular Ole Joe’s head over and over and over and over and over…


Farthington gets lost in his own words, each petition of the word “over” bringing a big more of a smile to his face. 


Farthington: …And over and over into the toilet. Not a single thing against the rules of the contest. I mean if there was, I wouldn’t be champion, I would have been disqualified and fined. That’s not the case though Scoops, that is not the case at all. I stand before you the ICONIC World Champion because I treat every opportunity I am presented with the utmost intensity it deserves but still firmly within the legal bounds of the agreed upon contest. That applies just as much this Friday night. 


The manic glee that remains on Cecilworth’s face as he dwells back to Alcatraz is captured in its haunting nature by another photograph. 


Farthington: I feel like you are trying to paint me in a certain light Mr. O’Toole and you are very much mistaken. I am merely a driven and passionate professional who gives it his all in any situation he is faced with to stake his claim at the top of the mountain. Earlier you asked me how it feels to sit atop it and the truth is, I am not at the peak. I didn’t almost perform two murders just to rest on my laurels. I will continue to climb, I will continue to do everything I need to do because these two beauties of my shoulders… they are NEVER leaving me and they will propel me further and further up the mountain.


O’Toole: It does feel like you may be dismissing Lindsay Troy by saying that.


Cecilworth tilts his head down and chuckles.


Farthington: Look Scoops, I’m not Scott Stevens, I’m not going to stand here with a binder full of women and list off the fact that I know and have faced the female of the species in the ring like it will give me the magical key to victory as the all intelligent vagina knower. I’m not going to obsessively count every single word that Ms. Troy utters out of her mouth ahead of our battle because somehow the fact she only utter six hundred words at some point makes her lesser as an in ring opponent. No, I am going to go to Five Time Academy after this little interview ends and I am going to get ready for some arm breakin’ destruction. The truth is, this is going to be a tough one but the deeper reality is I CAN’T lose it. I am so close Scoops, I am so, so close to erasing John Sektor from the history books, I can taste it, it’s making me positively moist down there. People have tried to get to this point before, hell, Jace Parker Davidson tried but didn’t manage to reach this point during his reign of terror as ICON Champion… well, that was thanks to me now that I think about it. Look, I’m not going to enter into this bout in a half-arsed slump. Look at my track record, I don’t care about your gender or talents, I will do everything that is legally in my power to ensure that you do not deprive me from what is mine. Ms. Troy is the beneficiary to the fact that the rules will not allow me to legally lynch her or commit toilet based murder… 


Cecilworth buffs his title belts one more time as he cracks open a bottle of water.


Farthington: So…


Cecilworth gargles to water around his cheeks and then swallows it whole.


Farthington: Snapping the arm it will have to be. 


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