<![CDATA[X-treme Wrestling Federation - King of the Ring 2017 RP Board]]>

<![CDATA[X-treme Wrestling Federation - King of the Ring 2017 RP Board]]> https://xwf1999.com/ Mon, 04 May 2026 23:04:42 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[Party of Five]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=29022 Sat, 19 Aug 2017 00:01:16 -0700 Doctor Louis D'Ville]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=29022

The last couple of weeks have been quite eventful for the KINGS™ of the XWF. While preparing to defend their long-reigned Tag Team gold and set plans for welcoming a new King, they got tangled up into a mess that almost cost them more than even they could not afford to lose. Trouble was following them, not them, but Theo Pryce in particular. He had a plan, but needed help in pulling it off. He looked to Doc, but without asking he seen that Doc's head was in a different place. Cadryn would have probably screwed it up. And Madison would have probably killed someone. So, he looked to the one other available option.

Theo traveled across the world to a monk monastery to bring John Samuels, who was on some kind of soul search, back to reality and back to the XWF. The plan was to simply wait for the cat and mouse game to begin and corner the fellow that's acting as Theo's shadow. It worked flawlessly and the man was detained.

After extensive interrogation, Theo discovered that the man following him was a Russian assassin sent to kill him because of the information he could withold regarding the Russian Government after the KINGS™ action before High Stakes. After negotiations with Vladimir Putin himself, it seemed things were resolved and the KINGS™ could relax and go back to concentrating on the task at hand. The King of the Ring Tournament....

Episode VII - Party of Five

FOUR OF A KIND MOTHER FUCKERS!

Samuels slams his cards down on the table and laughs as he chews with one side of his mouth on a cigar. Doc and Theo each throw their cards down and sigh as Samuels pulls the chips away with a gring from ear to ear. The KINGS™, Doctor D'Ville, Theo Pryce, John Samuels, and John Madison all sit around a table in a luxury suite, high on an upper floor, playing poker.

How the FUCK do you keep winning, Samuels?

It's in my blood, Theo.

Doc flips his few cards over towards the pile in the center of the table. Samuels looks up at him with a wink.

You know I hardly think this is a time to celebrate, my friends.

Theo looks up.

Well, why not, Doc?

There are more important matters at hand.

Theo and Samuels look to each other. Samuels prepares another deck while Theo sighs.

My life is intact, isn't that the least bit important?

Well, but of course! I would hate to have to scrounge up another tag team partner or have either one of these two subsitute for you.

Samuels looks up mid-shuffle.

Well, fuck you, too, Doc!

In all honesty, I know where everyone's heads are at this point.

Cadryn walks into the room carrying a tray of glasses of iced tea and sets it down on the table. He's wearing an apron that reads across the front: "KINGS™ of my <3". He takes each glass and places it in front of each of the KINGS™ and stands waiting for approval. Doc takes a sip and spits it out all over his cards and looks up to the Jester™.

And just what the fuck is this?

Um, iced tea?

Doc looks at the glass, up to Cadryn, then back to the glass before he hurls it at the Jester™.

Where are we? AA? Bring me some alcohol for fuck's sake.

Doc said calmly but his voice boomed across the suite and probably out onto the street. Theo then stands up and looks out to his fellow KINGS™. Samuels is stacking his chips in neat piles, Doc is searching for a cigar in his jacket pockets, and Madison is barely concious from the drugs he's been abusing after his injury. Theo sighs, which gets at least two of the men's attention.

Look, we've come a long way this time around boys. We came in here empty handed and took over where Doc needed us and succeeded every step of the way. We've defended the titles, we've taken down Lane, Sammy won the X-Treme Title for a minute. I think we're on the right track for some really great things here in the XWF.

Could you sound any gayer?

Fuck off. I'm serious. There isn't a single team or faction out there that can touch us right now. If there was, I think they would be in for a hell of a fight....

He pauses waiting for Cadryn to return with the drinks, which he does a few short moments later. He sets them in place like he was doing with the iced tea and scurries back off into the kitchen to continue preparing whatever it was he was preparing. Theo takes the glass of whiskey and raises it up in the air and smiles to his fellow KINGS™.

To the KINGS™! And our forever stranglehold!

Doc, Theo, and Samuels..... And Cadryn sneaks in there too with a dismissed glass of iced tea.... all meet their glasses in the middle for a toast. Cadryn poofs away back to the kitchen before one of the KINGS™ could yell at him.

As this week winds down, I worry that this could be the end of anticipating any type of challenge in this division.

I worried about that when we came in, Doc.

After this tournament, what is left to be thrown at us? Who could possibly step up and stand opposed to what could be the most poweful faction to ever reign in this FINE federation? Who?

Does it matter? Just get it done this weekend and we'll be able to take another vacation until the next pair of

come along. Are we still playing this or what?

Samuels points down to the cards on the table and shrugs his shoulders. A loud beeping comes from inside the kitchen and Cadryn rushes out in a panic....

FIIIIIIREEE!!!!

Theo jumps out of his seat which causes Madison to fall and injure himself out of the chair. Sammy and Doc just stare at Cadryn who had a "boy who cried wolf" on his face the entire time....

Jesus Christ.... ANOTHER FIRE?!

Cadryn reaches behind him and pulls a roasted turkey out a on a platter and holds it.

Just kidding!

Madison perks up from his comotos and smiles....

Cadrryyyyynnnnnn...

The gang laughs as the screen freezes and the end credits come on.

- End Credits -

Theo Pryce
Brianna Pryce
John Samuels
John Madison
Cadryn Tiberius
Joe Pesci
Ken Watanabe
Kevin Nealon
Chris Pratt
Alexa Bliss
Peter Storemare
Unknown Soldier
Luca Arzegotti
Donald Trump
Jared Kusnher
Vladmir Putin
God

AND

Doctor Louis D'Ville

]]>

Episode VII - Party of Five

]]> <![CDATA[Creating a King. Chap. 2: A Little bit of Magic]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=29019 Fri, 18 Aug 2017 23:56:23 -0700 Neville Sinclair]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=29019

Again and again, in great throngs they came,
There came Bran and Melgan to meet me
At the last, they slew Dyel
The son of Erbin, with all his men

A host of spears fly high, drawing blood.
From a host of vigorous warriors –
A host, fleeing; a host, wounded –
A host, bloody, retreating

Seven score heroes, maddened by battle
To the forest of Celyddon they fled
Since I Myrddin, am second only to Taliesin,
Let my words be heard as truth

- Myrddin Wyllt

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

August 18, 1117

Introducing Welsh Mythology to the English proved to be a tricky topic. The English saw the Welsh as vile, horrible men. They were Pagans, and there was nothing more that needed to be said about that. But Geoffrey of Monmouth knew that it needed to happen. Although the results of adding mythology to a history book could be disastrous for him. At best, people would enjoy it but belittle it’s necessity. At worst, he could be put to death and labelled a heretic. These were tricky times indeed.

What should I do?

He knew he needed a sympathetic figure, one that the Englishmen would enjoy hearing about. He couldn’t make him a warrior, that needed to be an Englishman. He would create a fictitious King and have him be the conqueror England needed. But how could he get the Welsh into it?

An old man

There was something about an old man that cried out for both respect, because of his age, and sympathy, because of his weakness. A child would be seen as a future threat, a young man even more so. It needed to be an old lonely man. Not one that would be seen dangerous, one that would be seen as pathetic. But he could offer the English something that was needed, a little bit of magic.

He thought long and hard about what he knew about old Welsh men when someone popped into his mind. When he spent time there, they told stories of a man named Myrddin Wyllt. As stories went, he was an old man that had gone crazy after a battle and then concocted magic outside of any major settlement. The stories had told that he told the future and talked with animals. The English might find some of this a little goofy, but there was something entertaining about the idea. Geoffrey had interacted with him once in his studies, there was nothing magical about him, he seemed more a poet than a wizard. But there was such good potential for storytelling. This needed to be included. He would write about this man. But his name was too damn Welsh.

Maybe if I anglicized things a little?

Geoffrey decided in that moment, he would call him Merlin, an English approximate. The English would think this was English legend because of the victorious English King in the stories. But Geoffrey knew that what would ultimately satisfy them was a classic story told with a little bit of magic.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

August 18, 2017

Neville stood on the banks of the River Tweed in Northern England. It was amazing to get to look down at this river and imagine the magic that happened here. Not necessarily the ethereal kind of magic that gets told in storybooks, but the history, the stories that must have come from this place. There was a special kind of magic that happened here. What made England so great was that all over the world there didn’t seem to be another place with as rich of a history and as promising a future. England was great, but it owed itself a lot to other places and different cultures.

With the current events happening in the world, Neville had grown sad this week. He didn’t want to be another person spewing hate and insults into a world that didn’t need any more of them. But he had a job to do, and taking on Mezian this week was exactly what he needed. He didn’t have to hate Mezian for any other reason than his pathetic existence as a wrestler. Mezian didn’t need to be called out for who he was but for the lack of work he put into maintaining a proper wrestling work ethic.

It’s interesting to talk magic today as I spend time in England. I think there’s different kinds of magic. There’s the supernatural kind that seems to involve spells, and things out of the ordinary. That’s what some people believe in and want more than anything. The ordinary seems so pathetic and jaded that people crave anything outside of that. People turn to mystics and cultish practices because they need magic to be real. Look at the Ouija board as an example, it’s just a piece of illustrated cardboard that gets sold in board game stores everything. But people then move their hands and make it say what they want it to say because they crave the supernatural and desire to have an encounter with a demon. People have encounters because they desire encounters so bad.

But there’s another kind of magic, it’s the kind when everything seems right in the world and nothing could be any better. Because circumstances turn out so good, everything feels magical and you couldn’t imagine what the negative in these times could be. Have you guys ever experienced this magic? I imagine it would be close to what I’m feeling right now. Walking through one of the most beautiful rivers in the most amazing country in the world knowing I’m one of the best in the world at what I do. How could anything be better than this?

Neville takes a handful of water up and throws it in the air. This might seem a bit odd, but Neville wanted to feel the water wash over him. At times when he felt this good, it seemed like life was baptizing him into a promised Kingdom. This was almost a religious experience.

The thing that has made the Arthurian legend great isn’t that he was a victorious King who vanquished his foes and made his Kingdom proud. That had been seen many times before. People stopped caring at success in the ordinary. What made the Arthurian legend special was that it contained a little bit of magic. The wizard who helped the King and introduced to a whole new kind of mastery. The experiences dabbling with magic that shaped who he was. The success in both the supernatural magic and the natural success with who he was. This is why we read legends and incorporate things into our own lives. We all crave the same kind of magic that Geoffrey of Monmouth sought to give the people he needed to instruct.

Neville sighs and throws a rock across the river

Mezian, I had big plans for this pay-per-view. Believe it or not, this is my first pay-per-view with this company and I really wanted to make a statement. But I’m not sure you have that magic anymore. I don’t even know if you’ll show up at this match and I’m sure if you do it will be an undisciplined disaster. I really feel the need today to teach you about these two kinds of magic and show you how they matter. Listen up, shut up, and let me tell you a few things.

Lesson #1 – Supernatural Magic is mostly unreal

I feel like of all the people in the XWF, you might be one of the people who need to hear this the least. I try and pay good attention to you, but I can’t seem to shake the fact that everything I watch defies logic in every coherent way. Why is it so tough for you to try and live within the realm the rest of the world does. Why do you think you need to do things differently? I can’t help but shake the fact that I think you do it for unfounded attention. Because you can’t be interesting enough as a normal person, you act up and act out to try and get noticed. You create things that seem supernatural because you think the lack of normality actually helps things. You dance around with names that people can barely say because you think it makes you sound cool.

Mezian, there’s a bad way and a good way to handle outbursting infants. The bad way is to give them what they want and think it’s going to change everything. The good way is to lovingly show the child that there’s an alternative to what they want, or gently explain the no to them. Why has the XWF rewarded you with a title shot when it only seems like you’re a self-serving brat who thinks he can pull the wool over all of our eyes with who you say you are. It’s very creative Mezian, but its so full of shit, more shit than a grown man who’s been constipated for a week. You don’t matter anymore Mezian. The next generation is here, and we want to show guys like you that we won’t stand for this outrageous bullshit you think is building who you are. Just stop.

Neville pulls another bottle out of his pocket, it’s Glenlivet again. He pours a shot and smiles at the camera.

Lesson #2 – Real Magic Comes when Things are Right

Real magic is what happens when sparks go off because you’re in the right place at the right time. Have you ever met up with someone you shouldn’t have been able to because you were there? Have you ever turned down a wrong road and ended up somewhere awesome? This is what magic is, it’s the outside of normalcy situations that make us say “wow”. When was the last time anyone ever said that to you Mezian? Do you make people say wow?

I feel like I’m in my right situation. I’m the TV Champ in a new federation and pretty soon I’ll be running things. I understand this kind of magic because I live it every time I win a match and continue to reign supreme. It feels even more right retaining this in my home land of England. This Weekend, we are going to feel this magic. Watch my match. Watch my win. Remember what it’s like to have this kind of real magic. Not the supernatural bullshit that Mezian puts forward as his own.
I implore you people, this weekend you will all see, a little bit of magic.

Neville turns and the camera shuts off]]>

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

August 18, 1117

August 18, 2017

Lesson #1 – Supernatural Magic is mostly unreal

HERO'S

Part 3

Chris's point of view

Bruce's point of view

Michelle's point of view.

"Shoot him Michelle!" He heard his own voice cut through the air.

A smile crossed his face as he watched her finger twitch, pushing down on the trigger she knew it was correct to pull. He wanted to watch the boy drop, to set the girl free. Show her that sometimes you need to do what you need to do in order to get by.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion.

Out of the corner of his eye, however, he saw Bruce dive as well as a 60 year old man can dive just as the sound of the gun rattled the calm Tampa air.

Oh My God!

The old man jumped in front of the gun! She fired it, she didn't know why she fired it, and he fell out of the sky like a boulder dropped off a cliff. Hitting the concrete, the impact was almost as loud as the gunshot.

"BRUCE!" She heard behind her, and the younger came running.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO!" He screamed at her, ripping the gun away. WHAT? This was her fault? No way was this her fault!

But in the back of her mind she did feel guilty, because she didn't HAVE to pull the trigger. Oh god, what had she done?

Had she just killed someone?

The blonde man was on one knee, tending to the old man. "Don't leave me, old man......stay with me." He looked at her, he had fire in his eyes. He had a scary look. He was going to come after her, she just knew it. She braced her body to get hit.

Everything in her told her that this man was going to make her suffer, make her pay. Maybe this was the plan, somethingto give him a reason to hit her.

But he didn't hit her.

My god, he smiled at her.

"You passed the test" he said. "You can go home now."

A single tear ran down her face and she didn't even know why she was crying.

"Wha---what was the test?"

"I wanted to see if you would pull the trigger. I wanted to see if you would do anything it took to survive an unfavorable position.......I was testing you but I was also testing myself."

"Ummm?"

"If you, a sub 5'6 hundred pound soaken wet chick can do what it takes....I have what it takes to beat Robbie Bourbon in an Iron Man Match."

She shook her head.

"So you used me to gain yourself some confidence?! I just killed a man!"

"He's not dead"

"Yes he is."

"Michelle, he is not. I checked. Please don't argue, this is a joyous day."

"You're insane,"

"I'm chaotic."

"What's the difference?"

"I'm calculated. Everything I do is planned to a tee. I cause massive amounts of chaos, but it is all part of the greater plan."

"You're fucking insane!"

He stood up.

Here comes the hit, she tensed again, ready.

The girl was tensed up, and he didn't know why. He had no plans to harm her.

"I just needed to know, and now I know. Lets go home."

Bruce moaned on the ground, holding his shoulder. Blood was visible through his shirt, a lot of it, too. His shirt was a polo of crimson.

"We need to help him."

"He will be fine."

"I am not leaving until we help him."

Chris sighed. "Pain in the ass. Okay, I should have ace bandages in the trunk. Get them."

+--+

After patching Bruce up, they got him into the car. He was laying in the back, and Chris made Michelle sit in the front.

"You know, I am going to make history this weekend."

"I'd prefer if you didn't talk to me."

"Awww sugar don't be like that."

She just stared out the window. She may not reply but she had no choice but to listen.

"Michelle.....Robbie Bourbon sucks. Everything about him sucks. He doesn't have one redeeming quality. This is a guy who claims he isn't a hero, yet tries to fight again hate and evil......sometimes, hero's don't even know they are heros"

She continued to look out the window. The neighborhood was getting increasingly nicer.

"Have you ever seen that fat guy who has no business doing anything athletic? A guy who is disgusting to you but is soft spoken and people like only because they are intrigued? He is soft spoken and quirky, in all his chubby glory?"

She continued to look out the window.

"That is Robbie. He knows he has nothing original to say. He wears a mask to hide his

face, a onsie three sizes too small and thinks he is the juggernaut from X-Men. Hero's don't cheat.....Hero's stick to their morals. Stick to their set of rules. But what if cheating is their morals? What if their entire basis of existence is dishonesty, but they try to fight for good. Would you call them a hypocrite? I would."

He was still talking. Was she just going to sit there in silence? She had to say something.

No, she was going to stick to her guns. This man was a psycho. She just wanted to get home and never talk to or see him again.

"You know.....I am going to beat a man to within an inch of his life......"

The window was beginning to fog from the humidity outside, the heat. The AC inside the car felt good but she no longer had a view.

"Maybe it is time to tell you about me. Maybe it is time for you to learn exactly who you are in the car with. My name is Chris Chaos, I am a professional wrestler. I have a match for the number one contender-ship for the Universal Title. The match is in London. After I drop you off, I am heading to the airport. The match is tomorrow night, if you want to watch it."

She huffed.

"It is a 60 minute Iron Man Match. The winner will have the most falls when the 60 minute marker hits."

She huffed again, still not able to see out the window. But him being a wrestler was interesting to say the least.

"I am going to do horrible, unforgivable things. But Robbie deserves it. Robbie needs a beating of a lifetime. Think about this......"

A brief hesitation at a stop sign, then he continued.

"Robbie is the kind of guy that will say one thing to your face, then another behind your back. He is the type of guy to grab your ass in the club and blame it on the other guy, then bask in the satisfaction that he got away with it. Robbie is a guy who had to cheat to beat me the last time and I STILL won the Universal Title. You see, Robbie claims I whine and complain but everytime I bring that match up all he can say out of his fat lips is how he jumped off the cage and I wouldn't have gotten the win if he didn't basically incapacitate everyone else and himself. I am the whiner? Robbie Bourbon will throw stones, but he is guilty of the same thing. Just ask him. He will tell you about how he is so good yet he has never done anything worthwhile in this company."

She was interested in the story, but she didn't know why.

"So you understand why I have to hurt him tomorrow. You understand why I have to go to a place I rarely go. You see, Robbie would have never opened your eyes. You wouldn't be worth his time. You wouldn't be worth the lesson. But to me you are worth it. I taught us both something today."

She cracked. Goddamnit.

"Robbie Bourbon sounds like he really sucks."

"You have no idea."

They pulled up to her car in the parking lot it feels like they left an eternity ago.

"You know what, I will have the cigarette".

"I know you will."

Something in her tingled. She didn't know why, and she hated it. She hated herself for it but she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. She had no more self control.

And she hated it.

But she loved it.

The shot old man groaned in the back seat.

She got up off the chair and exited the vehicle. There was a damp spot on the seat. She didn't notice it, but he did.

Just like that, he was gone.

Her hero.

She quickly pulled her phone out and googled Robbie Bourbon.

"Yuck" she said to herself.

"So this is it, the final hour before salvation. The final hour before the number one man on this roster is crowned at the biggest Pay Per View we have had in a long time. Robbie we have said a lot of terrible things about each other, but the time for talking is well beyond us. It is time to fight. It is time for one of us to become immortal, and one of us to stay mortal. This is a 60 minute test of wills. A 60 minute battle for XWF supremecy. My trash talk has been harsh, yours as been goofy, but we both brought our own styles. You went to Charlottesville, I went back to my home. You fought Nazi's, I showed a daddy's girl waitress what a real hero is. We both brought epic promos that will stand the test of time and will be looked back upon as some of the best ever in this company's rich history. But before we embark on this journey, I wanted to let you know that the Chaos you are getting is a different Chaos than you or anyone else has ever seen here. I am coming at you straight, and real. I am back to my old self again, and that does not spell success for Robbie Bourbon, or for anyone. Gabe Reno is back apparently, fine. I am over Gabe Reno. I am over what happened in that chamber. I am over Jim Caedus. I am over being the former Universal Champion. I am looking to the future. But just know that whether I win or lose, I am not going anywhere. I will continue to haunt this roster until I get what is rightfully mine. No more bitching about it, its time to act on it. I am not going to go on a big long tirade of trash talk, because it makes me look desperate. I have said what I need to say. You will probably make food analogies, and call me all sorts of quirky names, and say ambiguously gay stuff addressed at me. That is fine. Talk your oversized heart out. Because for me, it is about talking with fists now.

I may be considered a lot of things to a lot of people here, most of them negative. In fact, I can't name a single member on this roster who "likes" me. But you better bet your last chicken wing that they all respect me, Robbie. Every. Single. One. They know what I am capable of when I am focused. Sure, they don't agree with some of the things I do or the things I say and my allegiance with Vinnie after what he did is a head scratcher to some.....but if XWF ever got invaded ECW/WCW style you know damn well I am on that team for XWF. Who else? You wouldn't be, I hate to break it to you. You wouldn't even be in the discussion. Nothing against you, but that is the levels are are both at in our careers. That is why even if you find a way to win this match, I will continue to get these opportunities. If you lose this match, you go back to the bottom of the list. That is just a fact. I am being real with you right now.

But in the name of being real, I wanted to tell you that I don't like you as much as you don't like me.

Oh boy, here we go again. I just said I wasn't going to do this. There I go contradicting myself again. Why don't you copy everyone else's attack and point that out, too. You already have said all the same bullshit that I have heard time and time and time again. So yeah, I am contradicting myself.

Fuck you.

Plain and simple. No fancy analogies or metaphors. I am in a zone all my own, a dark place that even I don't want to be in. But it is a place I NEED to be in. This is the place I was in for Micheal Graves. This is place I was in against Gilmour, against Dolly Waters. This is a place I was in inside that Elimination Chamber. It is a place you have never seen me in. Just remember......you had to cheat to beat to beat me when I wasn't in this zone. What do you think you will have to do when I am?

Robbie, when the dust settles from us tearing the house down, I am going to be the one with my hand raised. It is about time that Chris Chaos starts acting like Chris Chaos again. It is time I start running this place again. So when you are sitting there in a pool of blood, just know I will be bleeding too. Know that I will be a mess, and I will love every second of it. You are a fraud, and it is time you get exposed.

Your days of relevancy are limited.

I beat James Raven.

War Pig is AWOL.

Jack Cain is basically a 7 foot punching bag these days.

But James Raven is going to take the Universal Title in the main event and you will fall even further into obscurity. Then, I will beat James Raven and Robbie Bourbon will be left with a thumb in his ass wondering where it all went wrong.

I'll tell you where, in London.

You've turned your back on anybody who ever thought you were worth a fuck in AX3

Think of it this way.....you aren't even the best motherfucker.

How does that make you feel?

Like a sad motherfucker, I bet. In more ways than one."]]>

HERO'S

Part 3

Chris's point of view

Bruce's point of view

Michelle's point of view.

present day

"What do you mean you can't enter her file? It's right there! Click on it!"

"Can't you read? It's corrupted, it's not letting me do shit."

Mikhail sits behind a desk and computer with Yuri hovering over him squinting at the screen.

"How would it have gotten corrupted?"

"How should I know?"

"Can you access any other file?"

Mikhail scrolls to a different entry. #191. He clicks it it pops up with the file and in bold red letters beside the number reads: "DECEASED".

"With ease."

He returns to #217 and clicks again. The computer takes an extended time to load. Eventually coming up with a screen full of indecipherable code.

"Fuck!"

"What do we do?"

Yuri thinks to himself while Mikhail continues to try accessing the file to no avail.

"Could anyone else be conscious of our actions?"

"The guards were under my dollar. My most trustworthy I pay when the time is needed."

Yuri thinks some more while Mikhail continues to reload the same corrupted screen over and over.

"Stop that! You are accomplishing nothing! When does your father return? We must cover this before then. I learned long ago that going behind his---"

"To hell with my father. He knows nothing of what needs done to accomplish our goals."

Mikhail stands up from behind the computer.

"To hell with him or not, if we've gone behind his back with anything I fear the consequences may be dire. When does he return, Mikhail?"

"He did not say. We may have a week. We may only have a couple of days."

"Then for my own piece of mind, I would like to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible."

"Very well."

"First, we must bring in the guards that assisted us with the extraction."

Mikhail nods and moves around the desk and towards the door. He stops and looks at Yuri as he lags behind.

"Are you coming?"

Yuri shakes his head.

"It would be odd for me to be involved. I will stick to the laboratory for now. These men do not know what they had seen, but they seen it. Make sure they're honest."

Mikhail nods and continues towards the door and exits the office. Yuri stands motionless staring at the computer screen with the list of different projects on each row.

"Fuck."

A couple dozen people wait at the subway station for the train to arrive. It's late in the evening, probably most people heading home from their jobs. Looking at their watch impatiently yet waiting without a complaint, the train can be heard in the distancing coasting towards them from inside the tunnel. The screech of the brakes is annoying, but most of these people are used to it by now. Day in, day out, they travel together without a sound.

As the train comes to a stop, three doors open on the sides allowing passengers from inside exit and passengers from the outside enter. They pass by each other like cattle, exchanging places, filling spaces, ignoring faces, as they take their ten paces.

Abigail emerges from the crowd carrying her bag on her shoulder. She breaks from the crowd as they spew out of the side of the train. She watches as the cattle march mindlessly out of the underground and to the surfaces while many other flood into the depths and watches as strangers act in unison as if they've practiced this act a million times.

::whisper::
Fascinating, aren't they?
::whisper::

"What?"

::whisper::
People. Your Average Joes. Your Janes.
::whisper::

Abigail holds her bag tightly and joins the crowd exiting the underground. She emerges back into the city she had recently left.

::whisper::
You never said where we were going.
::whisper::

"Because I don't know where we're going."

::whisper::
The note that guard slipped you said something. What was it again?
::whisper::

"An addresss."

Abigail talks under her breath like it's no-thing. A few people she passes catches her doing it, but even less bother even looking at her.

::whisper::
Interesting.
::whisper::

Quote:She remembers the other day:

As the guards pull Abigail through the gate the one guard tosses her and a duffle bag to the ground. The other hangs onto Abigail's arm and prevents her from hitting the ground. He slips a small, folded piece of paper into her hand.

Abigail walks down the busy street, she pulls the piece of paper from her pocket and reads it aloud.

"4872 Henderson Lane. Apt. 29."

::whisper::
So, I suppose that's where we're going?
::whisper::

She confirms with silence, as she looks at the signs as she passes them by.

Before long and after a limited conversation with herself, she finds Henderson Lane. It's a small alleyway between a mostly abandoned commercial building and an apartment building.

The people have thinned out, as it seems she's walked for miles and the city has become less a city and more of a slum. She breaks across the road in between the slowed traffic and makes her way down the alley.

::whisper::
You have an internal GPS or what?
::whisper::

"I feel like I know where I'm going. It's strange."

Abigail, somewhat scared of the energy drawing her where ever she is going, continues on. The voice in her head continues to question her actions, as it seems to want to stay on task with what Vincent Lane had laid out for her.

Quote:As Lane dropper her off:

Okay, dude. I'm not sure why you want dropped off here, but make sure you get in touch with Roxy. She's running that part of the shit.

::whisper::
Shouldn't we be setting up a contract for the XWF?
::whisper::

"Shouldn't we be intrigued about what exactly is going on here?"

::whisper::
How do you know that guard provided you with anything? This could be a trap to be taken back again. You know that the entire thing was kind of.... fishy.
::whisper::

"You're right. This could be a trap, but I have a feeling it's not. The way he looked at me, it's like he knew something."

::whisper::
I have a feeling those two gentlemen we talked to the other day are going to be in some trouble over this.
::whisper::

"Yuri?"

::whisper::
Yes, Yuri, and the other one, too. He seemed a bit higher up the ladder than your doctor.
::whisper::

"You don't think this was approved?"

::whisper::
I know it wasn't. Why, after all of the training, the simulations, the tests... Why now? Why were YOU given this mission?
::whisper::

Quote:The last meeting:

Mikhail and Yuri stand over Abigail in the small room they did their "interviews" in before. It's been a few days since #201, #217, and #290 had their initial sit-downs with Yuri. Abigail was brought back in for what they called "just another test".

"Hello, Abigail."

"Doctor."

She looks over to Mikhail, who she's never seen before.

"Do not mind him, my dear. He's simply here to oversee our final interview."

Abigail's one eyebrow perks up.

"Doctor?"

"We've decided to step foward with our plans, Abigail. As you have already been told, you have been brought her for a reason."

"The 'Freedom' you had mentioned before?"

Yuri nods.

"That is right."

He smiles and slides a folder over to her filled with photographs and other information.

"Freedom, of course, always comes with a cost, yes? This assignment will grant you just that and will prove to us that we have made the right choice in giving you this opportunity."

Abigail opens the folder and shuffles through the papers. Mikahil looks on amazed as she does so. He is still expecting the brainless robot that this project began to produce rather than a living, breathing, thinking clone-like being.

She pauses, stacks the documents again, and places them back into the folder.

"What do you think?"

I knew it would come down like this.

Desperation.

Struggle.

Hope.

Really, Missy?

Did you litereally take notes as I spoke and rebutteled accordingly? I mean, I understand that's sort of how this works, but you literally read aloud and listed certain statements of mine and did your best at ripping them to shreds. Is that the big bad girl that everyone --- Not everyone, YOU have been rambling on about the past week?

Well, way to go, I guess you got the best of me, Missy. You definitely showed ME who is boss.

Give me a break.

I'll do the same thing but take care of it in a much more efficient fashion than you did. Before I begin, let me just say that you take a lot of stuff out of context OR you don't read enough into this stuff. Here are some examples.

You followed Chris Chaos into this federation as in you came after he did. I know you weren't here when he first arrived because he was a lot more impressive before you showed up. So that statement about him living in YOUR shadow, may shed some truth. You came and he went downhill and you just kind of limbo'd around until you got the same opportunity that I did. A shot at this title. Now, the reason I mentioned that we were all equal is because regardless of you already "establishing" yourself in this place with your whole FOURTEEN matches, none of us have really done anything that stands out. You've mentioned your main event status and all that before, but come on.... Let's be honest with ourselves, Missy, there's no main event in any future Bombshell Champion.

Okay, okay. So you DID just watch me and pause and take notes the entire time. I thought you were a bit of a better critical thinker than this, but okay.

This is pathetic. YOU are pathetic, Jenny Myst. Taking things I say and twisting them around on me and getting what I was trying to say completely wrong makes you look like an idiot. So thanks. Less work for me. Maybe I was wrong about a few things about you, the alone thing since you were homeless and from a broken home. The drug-addicted family. Okay, so you had a rough start. You overcame and made it all the way to the XWF. So where does all that self-entitlement and "empress", princess stuff come from? Coming from the gutter you'd think someone would be a bit more humble about it and appreciate the ground they've made instead of being cocky and expect things to be handed to them.

The lost and scared thing kind of went with Chris Chaos writing you off. I'm sure you're not scared of me, no way. You're far too stupid to realize any opposable threat right now. You think you're the absolute best the world has to offer, which is what YOU would call "cute". In the fourteen matches you've had, you've won nine and how many of those were tag team, or whatever, kind of matches that basically carried you through? I've had like six matches here, that's a little less than half than what you've had. So to say you're more established than someone and SO far ahead in your career, especially since it started yesterday, would be ridiculous. Which is why I say, laugh all you want, Missy, we are even.

Even Steven.

You don't deserve this belt any more than any other female on the roster. All of this talk, all of this whining and bitching, all of this confidence will go to waste because I'm going to show the world that Jenny Myst is NOTHING. Step all over the fact that I don't care, point out that I'm here because I was ASKED to be here. A pawn as you speak. I'm here for a reason and whether it's as a pawn, a rook, a knight, or a bishop... I'm here to take out the Queen.... And any piece on the board is capable of that if the right moves are made. You're trapped into a corner right now, Missy, and you ARE a scared, lonesome little girl looking for a hand to reassure her safety. You ARE the bitch you claim to be because you are SO ignorant to your surroundings that you wrote myself and Ezariahah off as nothing more than an easy trip to the title.

Shame on you, huh?

Well, it's what you get.

The ignorance doesn't stop there though. You had enough to say about things that I talked about that didn't even happen here. Well, check YOUR history, Missy. If you weren't pausing and taking notes and thinking of ways to make me look foolish the entire time, you may have realized that the CCWF.......

WAS THE XWF.

It's called a take-over and unlike all the stupid mischief that you and Chris call "chaos" each week or anything that he tried with Ax3, Shane

and company actually changed the landscape of this federation and it WAS the CCWF for a short time. Vinnie Lane defeated Trax for the Universal Title and we CHANGED it to the CCWF Heavyweight Title.

So, there's that. History lesson. It wasn't to show you how good I was or how established I was, it was to prove to you that I do, indeed, have a place on this roster and you should, once again, be ashamed for overlooking that. My absences are unexplained and my time away was put to waste, but it won't matter after I beat you and become the XWF Bombshell Champion. You assuming even standing a chance at this point is so wonderful. It means that your hopes are still tied tight and you still look forward to getting proven wrong. I can't wait, Missy. I can't wait.

Yes, Jenny Myst. The way you have laughed at me. The way you have mocked me. The way you have mocked this division. How disappointed you are going to be. The hand-outs are over and done with and just like everyone else around here you're going to earn your place. I'm going to earn mine and how is that going to make you look? Someone from the woodwork that you have barely even wasted your spit on. What is it going to do to that precious little ego of yours when I'm the one walking out of the pay-per-view as champion? Will you go back to wrestling and losing to the men? As much as you talk about Chris being in YOUR shadow I think he had a little bit of a better start than what you've had. What do I know though? I'm just a stupid cunt.

Look back, Missy. Look back at this week and admire how much you failed to even touch me. As much hype as you've given yourself, I'd be ashamed to even show my face after losing to me on Saturday.

But you will.

You always will.

You'll find an excuse to place your loss on and come back for more over and over again. Maybe you'll learn from this experience. Maybe you won't. Regardless, I will have proven my point and my client will get exactly what he's desired. Jenny Myst will not be champion.

Abigail walks down the alley, passing by several colored homeless people on her way. They scream and talk among each other, some to themselves as fires burn in barrels and other folks without the luxury wrap themselves in torn blankets. She does her best to ignore them and she takes a few steps down and enters the apartment building.

The walls inside are torn apart and graffiti decorates nearly every inch of it like a portrait. The screams and shouts carry from inside the rooms as she continues on through the messed hallway, checking each door number for the one on the paper.

Some door provide a number, others do not, she continues on as they increase fro the teens into the twenties. Finally, she reaches a door without the numbers, but would be #29. She knocks.

No answer.

Abigail then reaches for the door knob and steps into an apartment unlike what she has seen from the rest of the building. It is spotless, clean from top to bottom. She hears old jazz music playing from the other room as she steps through and closes the door behind her. Making her way into the apartment, the music becomes louder. In the living area, sitting on a chair by an old wind-up radio, is an old black woman. She looks up from the chair, her eyes are pitch white, blinded and unable to see the world before her.

"Who goes there?"

The blind, black woman reaches over and without mistake turns the radio's volume down to merely nothing.

"Oh. Hello, my girl."

She smiles and holds her arms out, waving Abigail in.

"I've been expecting you."

]]> continued from "coping strategies"

present day

Quote:She remembers the other day:

As the guards pull Abigail through the gate the one guard tosses her and a duffle bag to the ground. The other hangs onto Abigail's arm and prevents her from hitting the ground. He slips a small, folded piece of paper into her hand.

Quote:As Lane dropper her off:

Okay, dude. I'm not sure why you want dropped off here, but make sure you get in touch with Roxy. She's running that part of the shit.

Quote:The last meeting:

Mikhail and Yuri stand over Abigail in the small room they did their "interviews" in before. It's been a few days since #201, #217, and #290 had their initial sit-downs with Yuri. Abigail was brought back in for what they called "just another test".

"Hello, Abigail."

"Doctor."

She looks over to Mikhail, who she's never seen before.

"Do not mind him, my dear. He's simply here to oversee our final interview."

Abigail's one eyebrow perks up.

"Doctor?"

"We've decided to step foward with our plans, Abigail. As you have already been told, you have been brought her for a reason."

"The 'Freedom' you had mentioned before?"

Yuri nods.

"That is right."

He smiles and slides a folder over to her filled with photographs and other information.

"Freedom, of course, always comes with a cost, yes? This assignment will grant you just that and will prove to us that we have made the right choice in giving you this opportunity."

Abigail opens the folder and shuffles through the papers. Mikahil looks on amazed as she does so. He is still expecting the brainless robot that this project began to produce rather than a living, breathing, thinking clone-like being.

She pauses, stacks the documents again, and places them back into the folder.

"What do you think?"

]]> <![CDATA[The Resolution]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=29016 Fri, 18 Aug 2017 23:32:54 -0700 Prof. Bobby Bourbon]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=29016

Robbie Bourbon recently apprehended Strawberry Fields in the Charlottesville Mall, mastermind behind the attacks in DC. He recently sped off in his vehicle with the culprit secured in his trunk.

The only thing left to do now is go win a match.

THE RESOLUTION

We open to see Robbie Bourbon inside his bitchin' Challenger, zooming down an empty street, dodging broken down panzer tanks and downed messerschmidts as he does, the nazi presence in Charlottesville routed. For now, at least. His computer screen Einstein is calmly humming to himself to drown out the screeching coming from his trunk.

Damn, never took one in before, this damn fool is making my ears bleed.

Ya, she ist very very shrill.

Robbie presses a green button on the console. The stereo blares for a moment, coming from the rear, and we hear a jolt of classic rock start playing then stop after about ten seconds. The screaming has stopped.

I figure that many decibels will have you enjoy quiet for a little while.

Zat's a very rockin' stereo you got there! You installed dat before setting off to catch ze bad guy, ya?

Indeed. A killer stereo is easy to wire and install.

I'm supposed to tell you about some promo alert from Chris Chaos.

Oh, okay, go ahead and play it.

The screen displays the latest of Chris Chaos's promos for Robbie to watch as he drives. Or at least listen to. Robbie sits through it, a smile on his face the entire time.

That, that was pretty cool.

I liked how you walked around an airport jiggling an action figure of yourself and posing it.

Like, I wish I was in an airport playing with toys.

Guess you couldn't find a set of tits to play with, huh?

Man, that's an awesome airport with conveniently placed action figures in the gift shop. Duty free! Wow, that's a deal and a half. Nice to see you've extended yourself to the clearance, bin, Chris. There were an awful lot of your toys on display in there, even on sale. That's because no kid in their right mind looks and sees a Chris Chaos toy and thinks 'I hope I get that one!' I've sold so many action figures they were out of stock in that store, didn't you notice? I've sold so many toys and playsets and action figures off my name alone. The convention exclusive Bourbon Man Han Solo. The Donkey Kong Rape Van, the Dojo Playset, the Elimination Chamber Playset (remember, Chris, I sold that damn thing and the hole in the top, not you), and the Black Hand collector's sets all had special edition variants of me. You won't find a single one on eBay, though, because they're actually so collected and beloved by their owners they'd never dare let them go.

Chris Chaos toys are on sale at Wal-Mart in a buy-one-get-one bin. Nice of you to run around and play with them. Chris Chaos hasn't gotten laid in so long he played with himself in an airport gift shop. Literally.

You dislike zis Chris fellow?

He's a fuck for what he did to that poor girl. Unwarranted, then he throws up a billion excuses as to why he should do it rather than owning up to it as a scumbag move. He thinks his major flaws include confidence in himself and pride. They're flaws, but besides his inability to get over himself, his inability to accept change, and new beginnings, instead of trying something different, is what his major flaw is. Repent, Chris. To yourself. You can give it a shot, it's all on you. You owe it to yourself to do something for yourself, and I don't mean running around an airport playing with an action figure. You can do big boy stuff now. You can go tie shopping, or perhaps dine in a restaurant, or maybe even visit a concert. Nope, you chose none of those things. You chose to steal a girl. You chose to exploit the poor and practiced identity politics in the process. You then helped sell dozens more of my girlfriend's sex doll, putting enough cash in her pocket that she just bought a helicopter. The power elite in DC sure do love their Spermsoaker© reservior technology. You think I'm supposed to feel ashamed because my girlfriend is strong enough to make a heap of cash off of having a great ass? Wait, you don't get strong women. You don't get any women, but even saying you look for those who are "emotionally available", exposing low self esteem, so low they had full body reconstruction to look like Theo Pryce's wife, is proof that A) you're a scumbag that the people are going to pay good money to see get torn piece by piece once you're in the fucking ring with a god damned tiger among men, prowling, pouncing, huge, and graceful, a fucking wrecking machine put on this green earth, and B) you like to take the easy way out.

Man, I reckon that's a bit of a run on sentence. Hate the syntax all you want, you got the message, right?

I could do this forever. Week in, week out, line up Chris Chaos for Robbie Bourbon to go out and throw around like a fucking rag doll. Another peice of meat on the fucking slab, laid out to get the big animals out and sniffin', tenderized, spiced, and served up for the fucking people. Robbie Bourbon come to cook and smoke your fucking meat off the bone and onto a silver platter for the world and universe to behold.

It's going to be the first time someone has wanted you in their mouth in quite some time.

That's all a metaphor, though, you get it? Like, I'm not literally going to eat you. I'm not literally a tiger. You literally haven't had someone want you in their mouth in quite some time. Oh, man, I guess I'm making all these allusions to food because I'm fat and have spaghetti sauce for blood.

Well, you never have made me bleed, Chris, so I get why you'd be confused.

But seriously, that's the best insult you've got? You're crossing words with the magma spewing, venom blasting flamethrower of the XWF, the big bad, big bad of big bads, and you're seriously going to waggle a fucking action figure around and say "you have spaghetti sauce for blood".

Chris Chaos is like the fucking CD selection at your local Wal-Mart, won't find a fuck anywhere.

Chris Chaos found his virginity again.

Chris Chaos couldn't find a date on a calendar.

Chris Chaos has creeped out the staff at the local porn DVD and sex toy shop with his infinite knowledge of porn vids.

You're all alone, Chris. That's all you are. That there is another flaw you don't acknowledge.

You've turned your back on anybody who ever thought you were worth a fuck in AX3, all because you couldn't hack the fact that Jim Caedus was better than you. You turned your back on the only woman who loved you because of a tantrum over not winning a shot at the fucking tag belts. A shot you blew for me and Jack. Cain's still pissed about that, don't get me wrong. Maybe after I throw you around for an hour and go on to most likely headline a Pay-Per-View against a fellow Motherfucker in James Raven, Jack Cain's going to need a body to bust up, and you, sir, are just that body.

Man, for someone who goes around talks about how he was robbed of opportunity after opportunity, it's a damn shame you fucking ruin opportunities for others.

If it hasn't set in, Chris, I'm going to beat your ass with authority this Saturday.

Go ahead and quote me on that. You've already quoted me a dozen times just to get someone to stay awake through one of your shitty fucking promos. Maybe you can play with a beach ball while sticking your dick in a Sock 'Em Bopper until climax during your next one or something.

Robbie pulls the car over to the side of the road, a line of police cars with their lights flashing in front of him. Robbie exits his car and walks to the trunk. He pulls out Strawberry Fields.

I will get you for this, Robbie Bourbon.

Sure you will.

Robbie tosses the girl to the police.

She needs help, constant surveillance, and she is not allowed to have her hands in front of her for any reason. Not even to wipe after going to the bathroom.

I swear, Robbie Bourbon, you haven't seen the last of me.

Robbie turns.

And nobody has ever seen the last of me. Not you, not Chris Chaos, not the whole fucking Universe. I'm a nonstop fucking locomotive burning on diesel fuel.]]>

Robbie Bourbon recently apprehended Strawberry Fields in the Charlottesville Mall, mastermind behind the attacks in DC. He recently sped off in his vehicle with the culprit secured in his trunk.

The only thing left to do now is go win a match.

THE RESOLUTION

We open to see Robbie Bourbon inside his bitchin' Challenger, zooming down an empty street, dodging broken down panzer tanks and downed messerschmidts as he does, the nazi presence in Charlottesville routed. For now, at least. His computer screen Einstein is calmly humming to himself to drown out the screeching coming from his trunk.

Damn, never took one in before, this damn fool is making my ears bleed.

Ya, she ist very very shrill.

Robbie presses a green button on the console. The stereo blares for a moment, coming from the rear, and we hear a jolt of classic rock start playing then stop after about ten seconds. The screaming has stopped.

I figure that many decibels will have you enjoy quiet for a little while.

Zat's a very rockin' stereo you got there! You installed dat before setting off to catch ze bad guy, ya?

Indeed. A killer stereo is easy to wire and install.

I'm supposed to tell you about some promo alert from Chris Chaos.

Oh, okay, go ahead and play it.

The screen displays the latest of Chris Chaos's promos for Robbie to watch as he drives. Or at least listen to. Robbie sits through it, a smile on his face the entire time.

That, that was pretty cool.

I liked how you walked around an airport jiggling an action figure of yourself and posing it.

Like, I wish I was in an airport playing with toys.

Guess you couldn't find a set of tits to play with, huh?

Man, that's an awesome airport with conveniently placed action figures in the gift shop. Duty free! Wow, that's a deal and a half. Nice to see you've extended yourself to the clearance, bin, Chris. There were an awful lot of your toys on display in there, even on sale. That's because no kid in their right mind looks and sees a Chris Chaos toy and thinks 'I hope I get that one!' I've sold so many action figures they were out of stock in that store, didn't you notice? I've sold so many toys and playsets and action figures off my name alone. The convention exclusive Bourbon Man Han Solo. The Donkey Kong Rape Van, the Dojo Playset, the Elimination Chamber Playset (remember, Chris, I sold that damn thing and the hole in the top, not you), and the Black Hand collector's sets all had special edition variants of me. You won't find a single one on eBay, though, because they're actually so collected and beloved by their owners they'd never dare let them go.

Chris Chaos toys are on sale at Wal-Mart in a buy-one-get-one bin. Nice of you to run around and play with them. Chris Chaos hasn't gotten laid in so long he played with himself in an airport gift shop. Literally.

You dislike zis Chris fellow?

He's a fuck for what he did to that poor girl. Unwarranted, then he throws up a billion excuses as to why he should do it rather than owning up to it as a scumbag move. He thinks his major flaws include confidence in himself and pride. They're flaws, but besides his inability to get over himself, his inability to accept change, and new beginnings, instead of trying something different, is what his major flaw is. Repent, Chris. To yourself. You can give it a shot, it's all on you. You owe it to yourself to do something for yourself, and I don't mean running around an airport playing with an action figure. You can do big boy stuff now. You can go tie shopping, or perhaps dine in a restaurant, or maybe even visit a concert. Nope, you chose none of those things. You chose to steal a girl. You chose to exploit the poor and practiced identity politics in the process. You then helped sell dozens more of my girlfriend's sex doll, putting enough cash in her pocket that she just bought a helicopter. The power elite in DC sure do love their Spermsoaker© reservior technology. You think I'm supposed to feel ashamed because my girlfriend is strong enough to make a heap of cash off of having a great ass? Wait, you don't get strong women. You don't get any women, but even saying you look for those who are "emotionally available", exposing low self esteem, so low they had full body reconstruction to look like Theo Pryce's wife, is proof that A) you're a scumbag that the people are going to pay good money to see get torn piece by piece once you're in the fucking ring with a god damned tiger among men, prowling, pouncing, huge, and graceful, a fucking wrecking machine put on this green earth, and B) you like to take the easy way out.

Man, I reckon that's a bit of a run on sentence. Hate the syntax all you want, you got the message, right?

I could do this forever. Week in, week out, line up Chris Chaos for Robbie Bourbon to go out and throw around like a fucking rag doll. Another peice of meat on the fucking slab, laid out to get the big animals out and sniffin', tenderized, spiced, and served up for the fucking people. Robbie Bourbon come to cook and smoke your fucking meat off the bone and onto a silver platter for the world and universe to behold.

It's going to be the first time someone has wanted you in their mouth in quite some time.

That's all a metaphor, though, you get it? Like, I'm not literally going to eat you. I'm not literally a tiger. You literally haven't had someone want you in their mouth in quite some time. Oh, man, I guess I'm making all these allusions to food because I'm fat and have spaghetti sauce for blood.

Well, you never have made me bleed, Chris, so I get why you'd be confused.

But seriously, that's the best insult you've got? You're crossing words with the magma spewing, venom blasting flamethrower of the XWF, the big bad, big bad of big bads, and you're seriously going to waggle a fucking action figure around and say "you have spaghetti sauce for blood".

Chris Chaos is like the fucking CD selection at your local Wal-Mart, won't find a fuck anywhere.

Chris Chaos found his virginity again.

Chris Chaos couldn't find a date on a calendar.

Chris Chaos has creeped out the staff at the local porn DVD and sex toy shop with his infinite knowledge of porn vids.

You're all alone, Chris. That's all you are. That there is another flaw you don't acknowledge.

You've turned your back on anybody who ever thought you were worth a fuck in AX3, all because you couldn't hack the fact that Jim Caedus was better than you. You turned your back on the only woman who loved you because of a tantrum over not winning a shot at the fucking tag belts. A shot you blew for me and Jack. Cain's still pissed about that, don't get me wrong. Maybe after I throw you around for an hour and go on to most likely headline a Pay-Per-View against a fellow Motherfucker in James Raven, Jack Cain's going to need a body to bust up, and you, sir, are just that body.

Man, for someone who goes around talks about how he was robbed of opportunity after opportunity, it's a damn shame you fucking ruin opportunities for others.

If it hasn't set in, Chris, I'm going to beat your ass with authority this Saturday.

Go ahead and quote me on that. You've already quoted me a dozen times just to get someone to stay awake through one of your shitty fucking promos. Maybe you can play with a beach ball while sticking your dick in a Sock 'Em Bopper until climax during your next one or something.

Robbie pulls the car over to the side of the road, a line of police cars with their lights flashing in front of him. Robbie exits his car and walks to the trunk. He pulls out Strawberry Fields.

I will get you for this, Robbie Bourbon.

Sure you will.

Robbie tosses the girl to the police.

She needs help, constant surveillance, and she is not allowed to have her hands in front of her for any reason. Not even to wipe after going to the bathroom.

I swear, Robbie Bourbon, you haven't seen the last of me.

Robbie turns.

And nobody has ever seen the last of me. Not you, not Chris Chaos, not the whole fucking Universe. I'm a nonstop fucking locomotive burning on diesel fuel.]]> <![CDATA[Ted and Dave and The Forgotten Device ~ Collab with Scully]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28999 Fri, 18 Aug 2017 23:27:19 -0700 Guppy Parsh]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28999

~Act VIII~

It was time for Alfie and Scully to take little Aston home. It had been a fun and entertaining day that's for sure. On the way back, both father and son slept in the back of the car. When they arrived at Natalie's house and Alfie pulled in the drive, Aston woke up by himself. After turning the engine off, Alfie had to wake Skull up by nudging him a few times. Scully was back to his normal self, the diary sat on his lap with the pen. Skull notices Natalie's mothers car, also on the drive.

"Did we have a fun day?"

"Didn't think I'd ever see the

you again but can't say it wasn't fun."

"I wasn't too bad was I?"

"Quite funny actually."

Scully undoes his seatbelt and gets out of the car. He walks round to the other side and gets out Aston after undoing his belt too. Skull picks Aston and carries him in his arms, picks up the Thomas bag, closing the door behind them. Skull walks to the front door and rings the doorbell.

Natalie's mum, Anna answers the door.

"Hi Mike."

"Hi. He's a little tired but he did just have a nap. He's eaten too."

"That's Okay. Thanks."

Aston gives Scully a big squeeze and a kiss.

"I love ya mate."

Scully passes Alfie to Anna and hands over the bag.

"Natalie not here?"

"No.... She's gone on a date?"

"A date? With who?"

"Just some guy called Charles. You ruined your relationship."

"Thanks for reminding me. It was my fault... Anyway I'm gonna go. Bye Anna.
Bye mate."

"Okay bye."

Scully gives Aston a kiss on the forehead and walks back to the car. He enters this passenger door this time and takes a seat.

"Thanks for today mate."

"No problem...."

All of sudden Batman pops forward from the backseat and sticks his head in between Alfie and Scully.

"Hey Scully! Don't ask why I'm here I have no idea. Oh! Hi guy from Scully's promos! What's up? What are we doing? Why am I here? Who's promo is this? What day is it? It's Sunday isn't it? Are we in London? If we aren't in London we need to get there!"

I guess aimlessly asking stupid questions that you should know the answer to is what passes for comedy now. Excuse me while I blow my fucking brains out.

Wow what a surprise, Guppy just got into the back of the car and no one noticed. How did he do that?

Scully turns his head and greets his Tag-Team partner.

"Hey Gupster, great way to make an entrance, pal."

Scully approves the way Guppy showed up and gives him the thumbs up.

Alfie looks at Scully then turns to look at Guppy.

"So you're Guppy? The guy who injected my good pal to make him goofy again?"

"Come on, don't call me that!"

"Yeah, I'm really glad that stuff seems to have no long term effects or anything. It's very convenient."

"So that makes it okay does it? Cuz I'm telling you now if it does effect him permanently, I won't be happy!"

"Don't be like that, Alf. Guppies cool."

"I'm just looking out for my friend, Skull."

Alfie seems a bit agitated by the whole

thing.

"Plus, if we didn't have a plot device to make Scully act funny, then we'd just be lying when we call ourselves Team

. Lying is bad. The only drawback to this whole thing is that it did put us on the radar of an evil hate group, but they seem pretty harmless. They're more afraid of us than we are of them."

"Lying to who? What are we meant to be lying about? I'm confused."

"You can't just make-up a cool tag team name and then not actually be that thing at all. That's like calling yourself a king but in reality you just won a wrestling match against someone, or saying you're a dragon when you're just a guy who is good at Kung Fu and can't breathe fire."

"He has a point, Alfie. It's like you, you're gay, openly gay and if you said you were straight then you would defeat the object of calling yourself gay."

"Are you being

again? Being gay isn't a choice!"

"Calm down, it was just a joke. Sometimes you can act like a diva."

Guppy nods, all he knew was that homosexuality was an unfortunate affliction, then suddenly some of his wife's earlier cunty-ness seeps out of his mouth by mistake, "Are we there yet? Is the car even moving?"

Another intelligent question from Guppy Parsh! He's full of them today.

The car is at a stand still; it isn't even running. Anna, Natalie's mum looks out the window and then walks back in.

"Come on Alf, let's get outta here."

"Before we go anywhere, curiosity killed the cat. But how did you even get here, Guppy?"

"I flew here to spend the night in this car because my wife got her hands on more divert from the plot serum. It's just supposed to be plot juice but apparently when used on women it just makes them more useless, instead of useful like it does on Scully." Guppy wonders if Alfie had any and if that explains this fiasco, gays are like women. He notes to himself to test the plot serum on gay rapists. "I knew the plot wouldn't move forward if I stayed at home with her; that's for sure."

Alfie starts the car and begins driving whilst Guppy explains the situation and how he got there. Alfie raises his eyebrows.

"Oh Okay?! Sorry but you can't stay in my car...."

"Cuz you can stay at mine instead ya daft nelly. Even though I should leave you to sleep on the streets considering I wonder why a

Scully is more useful than me right now? I think better, speak better, I am totally better."

"You're right, Scully, I probably shouldn't assume normal Scully would have left me to die two weeks ago. In fact I wouldn't have got into that mess in the first place if I listened to normal Scully." Guppy considers something he didn't think of before. "You're actually onto something. Let's put ourselves first today. If we hear about a rape happening then I'm completely fine with ignoring it until after our match and seeing how that goes. I'm not employed by Google, so I am allowed to be a man of science after all. I won't say mean things like that anymore either, it's rude."

A smile emerges on Scully's face, there was going to be NO rape hunting bullshit, just the number one contenders for the tag titles, hanging out.

"Wow, that's a relief. We have a tag-team title match ya know? I don't even know why we're still in Miami?!

"Who have you spent all day with even being

and all?"

"You unfortunately. Me joke, me joke. Seeing my son of course."

"Exactly Skull. Ya both know that Miami to London is about a 10 hour non stop flight?

Pushing it a bit don't ya think? Unless ya got some kind of BatJet or something?!"

Alfie begins to laugh, he finds it amusing.

"Oh! I have a BatJet! It flies very fast. Wow, the conflict of our promo was averted just like that! I didn't even need this!" Guppy carelessly tosses his chainsaw out the car window.

"I'll like to have a go in this BatJet sometime?"

Alfie pulls up outside Scullys flat.

"Here we are!"

"Cool! Thanks Alfie and Scully for the ride!" the world's greatest detective gets out of the car. "I'm ready to fly us to London whenever you're ready, Scully!"

"Lets go in my flat, then we can decide when to go."

Scully looks at Alfie, "You gonna come in?"

"No thanks. I'm gonna go home, me and Jamie are going out for dinner."

"Okay have a nice time and tell Jay I said hello. Thanks for today."

"No problem mate. I'll see ya later."

Scully gets out of the car and closes the door behind him. Alfie opens the passenger window, "Nice to meet you Gup."

"Likewise! Sorry if I was a bit crabby earlier. I get cranky when I wake up in unfamiliar places! Have a nice day." Batman follows after Scully.

Alfie beeps the horn as he drives off. Skull puts his key in the communal door and they enter the hall way. They walk up to Skull's flat and he uses another key to open it. Guppy follows Scully and they walk into the small living room area.

"So Gupster, want a drink?"

"Yes please! Do you have any milk?"

"Yeah sure mate, let me get you some."

Scully goes into the kitchen, then into the cupboard and grabs out a glass, placing on the side. He opens the fridge, takes the lid off and pours Guppy a glass of milk. He then takes the glass of milk into the living room and hands it over.

"Thanks Scully!" shouts Guppy before gulping half the glass; his milk-mustache resistant cowl is in full effect today leaving no milk facial hair of any kind. "Did you know milk helps build strong bones?"

"Talk about milking it...

Guppy did you know that in one promo, Theo Pryce spent the entire time, complaining that I spoke about my past? He kept saying that all I did was give the people a history lesson? I mean come on, talk about having no material when you need to bitch about that?! He said nothing else, so if I gave a history lesson the entire time then he just as bad for speaking about 'The History Lesson' the entire time he rambled on. Then in another promo he explained to everyone what was happening in my promo... I know sometimes I'm

but my promos don't have viewers discretion to

only. Like they didn't understand what was happening so he has to explain it because his promos are boring."

"Theo you are a wasted talent. Your qualities are endless. Wrestling part time, disappearing from XWF, returning and just trying to take over as soon as you're back. Gifting yourself championships cuz you can't actually win one...
Not only are you a self proclaimed King, King of sucking cock. You are exceptional at narrating other people's promos. Your CV must be 20 pages long...."

Guppy finishes his milk and stands there awkwardly with an empty glass. Scully takes the glass from him and sets it in the sink.

"I'm not Theo, why did you tell me all that?"

"Let's just go."

"Okay!" Guppy runs out the door, then steps back inside and opens a window. "It'll be easier if we just jump into the plane from here."

"Of course it will," Scully grabs a gym bag filled with the essentials then follows Guppy out the window closing it behind him.

[Meanwhile...somewhere else in Miami...]
[August 19th: The Future]

Ring!

Charles: "Hello?"

Drew: "This plan is fucking terrible! How am I suppose to kill someone with this thing? I can't even figure out how to cock the damn thing!

Charles: "Cock it? The fuck does that mean? That sounds gay."

Drew: "It's a gun term so it can't be gay. It's that thing you do before you can shoot it, you know, you pull on the shaft?"

Charles: "Now you're sounding gay on purpose. You're the American you know more about guns than me, look it up or something."

Drew: "Right, just because Hitler was right about guns that doesn't men I can't look up how to use them...um can I get a status report on Natalie?"

Charles: "She's bound and tied in the trunk or whatever we Brits call that."

Drew: "The boot?"

Charles: "That's right, thanks."

Drew: "Jeez, you spend half a week in 'Merica and you're already forgetting your funny words, talk about cultural domination."

Charles: "Shut ya cunt flap mate. Are we done here?"

Drew: "Ye-," Charles immediately hangs it. Drew wastes no time and phones Ted and Dave.

Ted: "Hey mate it's Ted."

Dave: "And Dave, we're chatting on the same phone we are."

Drew: "Do you have your special outfits on?"

Ted and Dave look down; Ted is wearing a sweet Batman hoodie and Dave is wearing a very nice shirt, wow he's almost as stylish as Scully.

Ted: "Do we ever!"

Dave: "Lookin' slick matey!"

Ted: "Arrrgh!"

Drew: "Wow, you Brits seem like parodies of yourselves tonight. I hope it doesn't affect the plan. It's bad juju...maybe we should reschedule? I mean if the jokes are this bad already there's no way you'd be able to pull of impersonating Team

2.0."

Ted as Grand Moff Tarkin: "Evacuate? In our moment of triumph? I think you overestimate their chances."

Drew: "That's a great impression Ted, but we all know what happened to Tarkin right after he said that."

Dave: "Oh right! BOOM!"

Ted: "KABLAMO!"

Dave: "Explosion!"

Drew: "He died a

death. We don't want that to happen to us."

Ted: "It won't boss!"

Dave: "Aye yi captain!"

Classic Ted and Dave! Pretending to be pirates! Funny guys! Drew hangs up and calls the member of the team with saggy bags on their chest.

Betsy: "Hey sugar."

Drew: "'Sup dime nipples, we probably won't need you on fucking duty. Scully just released a promo today where he was

. Is the candy trail in order?"

Betsy: "It's just how you left it."

Drew: "Perfect! What are you wearing?"

Betsy: "It's a surprise."

Drew: "I love that, Scully's one lucky

]
[color=#DAA520]
Betsy: "Or he'll think he is."

Drew: "Hey...when the mission is over what do you say about surprising me?"

....

Drew: "Hello?"

.....

Drew: "Betsy?"

......

Drew: "She must've cut out, that's definitely it. It wasn't something I said."

Drew hangs up.

[Meanwhile...elsewhere in Miami..]

Charlies stares down at his phone, gets his voice changer ready, dials Scully's number, and listens to it ring.

[Somewhere in between Miami and London]

Scully is riding in the BatJet twiddling his thumbs and listening to the BatRadio.

[Scully's Flat]

RING!

RING!

RING!

RING!

[Meanwhile...somewhere else in Miami...]

Charles: "Pick up asshole! Fuck! Voice mail! I hate leaving messages!"

BEEP!

Charles: "Hey Skull it's an old enemy of yours. I have your ex tied up. Come get her and risk forfeiting your title match or I'll rape her! MUHAHAHA

ACK ACK

Charles coughs into the receiver. Charles: "I'm getting l-l-aid ahem laid! And I'm in Miami! Not Hawaii! Get it? Those flower necklace things! Kind of an American pun, so it's weird that I'm making it to you of all people, but there it is! Not that I'm necessarily from the UK as well! My identity is a secret!"

Charles hangs up satisfied with his threatening message.

Charles parks the car in the brand new Kill

To Unionize warehouse, and gets Drew as fast as he can.

Drew: "Did you call him?"

Charles: "Yep."

Drew: "What did he say?"

Charles: "I left a message."

Drew: "Oh...That means they could be coming for us at literally any time. Shit! You were suppose to keep calling until you got a live person, so we'd have some way of knowing when they got the message, right?"

Charles: "My bad I forgot."

Drew: "What if Scully doesn't ever check his phone?"

Charles: "Well then he wouldn't fall into our trap!"

Drew: "Crap, do we have a plan B?"

Charles: "I thought the hoe was plan B?"

Drew: "Forget her..."

Charles: "Ted and Dave are at the arena, maybe they can pretend the arena was called and deliver a message for them?"

Drew starts hammering the buttons on his phone.

Drew as Princess Leia: "Help me Ted and Dave, you're my only hope."

Ted as Luke Skywalker: "She's beautiful."

Dave as Obi-Wan and Yoda: "That's your sister! Moron!"

Ted: "The dick wants what the dick wants."

Drew: "Shut up Ted, we're done with the incest jokes. I killed the guy responsible for them."

Dave: "Good, that's nasty."

Ted: "G'day mate."

Drew: "I thought you were from the UK, not Australia?"

Dave: "Put another shrimp on the barbie mate!"

Ted: "The dingo ate your baby!"

Drew: "I'll just get to it then...Charles and I need you guys to tell Team

~Act VIII~

thing.

"Plus, if we didn't have a plot device to make Scully act funny, then we'd just be lying when we call ourselves Team

but my promos don't have viewers discretion to

. Is the candy trail in order?"

Betsy: "It's just how you left it."

Drew: "Perfect! What are you wearing?"

Betsy: "It's a surprise."

Drew: "I love that, Scully's one lucky

2.0 that Scully's ex wife has been kidnapped when they get there. Make sure to find them and tell them she could be raped. This is very important. I won't get to bone Brooke Baldwin if you fuck this up."

Ted: "Whatever you say boss."

Dave: "They're in for trouble!"

Ted: "Make it double!"

Drew: "Go get 'em!"

Ted and Dave hang up their phone, turn around, and immediately walk into a dessert kart.

Ted: "Cookies are cool!"

Dave: "Brownies, man."

Well, there went that plan. Ted and Dave spent the next few hours stuffing their faces with sweets allowing Guppy Parsh and Scully to show up on time, wrestle their match and win the XWF Tag Team Championships.

Ted: "Eh! Scully! Pasta pizza! It's a me Tedio!"

Dave whacks Ted on the head.

Dave: "We were supposed to tell him something, right?"

Ted: "We think you suck now!"

Dave: "Yeah!"

Scully ignores them and goes off to do something important.

Ted: "You ain't bad! You ain't nothing! You ain't nothing!"

"Hi guys! Did you guys like your dessert?"

Dave: "It's was so good we forgot our orders!"

Ted: "Orders? Are we waiters?"

"I don't think so. Waiters don't wear hoodies or shirts that nice!"

Ted and Dave look down and both meet their palms with their faces.

"Do you guys like my new belt?"

Ted: "Wow! It's shiny, but we just remembered our orders!"

Dave: "Tell Scully his ex wife got kidnapped back in Miami!"

"No can do, that's out of my jurisdiction."

Ted: "Out of your juris-what?"

Dave: "They might rape her, Batman!"

Guppy steps back in horror, "Why didn't you say so?" Batman runs to Scully as the scene fades away.

Guppy fin.]]> <![CDATA[Might Have Lost]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=29012 Fri, 18 Aug 2017 21:49:03 -0700 Chasm]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=29012 I was all excited to be fighting for the Hart title when I was booked to face the Engy like I had been promised for what seems like months now, so when I saw that I was booked against Gilmour at the PPV all that excitement went poof, I don't know what it is about you Gilly but it seems that when ever we are booked to fight, I just lose all interest in the match and I give you an easy win.

So Gilly I hope you enjoy the title fat ass, might be nice to see you finally wearing a belt again to keep those pants up since I am sure just like all of the XWF universe we are all tired of seeing that plumbers crack every time you bend over ]]> I was all excited to be fighting for the Hart title when I was booked to face the Engy like I had been promised for what seems like months now, so when I saw that I was booked against Gilmour at the PPV all that excitement went poof, I don't know what it is about you Gilly but it seems that when ever we are booked to fight, I just lose all interest in the match and I give you an easy win.

So Gilly I hope you enjoy the title fat ass, might be nice to see you finally wearing a belt again to keep those pants up since I am sure just like all of the XWF universe we are all tired of seeing that plumbers crack every time you bend over ]]> <![CDATA[The Feder Hunt Pt. 5]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28911 Fri, 18 Aug 2017 21:47:28 -0700 Seth Feder]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28911

What We Know So Far

The Review

IN PART ONE we find out the whereabouts of Seth Feder. He's into some debt with various people, but they are not the only ones looking for him. Vinnie Land is trying to find Seth in hopes that he would be able to get in touch with his brother Sid Feder. At the right time, Seth finally answers Vinnie but requests a nice payday. This helps Seth pay off his debt, and have some left over to continue his ways. Vinnie feels screwed and once again cannot get in touch with Seth until Seth phones Vinnie, and mentions he's in the desert.

IN PART TWO Vinnie sends a helicopter to pickup Seth. The pilot ends up passing out due to Seth goofing around, and finally wakes up pissed. To calm things down, Seth decides to reveal a big secret that no one knows about to the pilot whose name is Timothy. The secret is Vinnie Lane is really Seth's father. On this new bit of information, the two decide to take a detour and go party. Seth also finally dials Sid's number, but it's disconnected.

IN PART THREE Seth decides to tell Vinnie the truth -- that he is his father. Vinnie gets upset at the prank because of loud mouth Timothy. To a bit of shock, Seth tells Vinnie that it isn't a prank and he has proof.

IN PART FOUR we find Seth drugging Vinnie and stealing several thousand dollars to go gamble in Vegas. Upon Vinnie coming back into reality, he begins the search for Seth and locates him. Before Vinnie could really react, he finds Seth winning. In fact, Seth ends up making them both half a million dollars. While this brings Vinnie's nerves a bit calm, Seth sees it as the perfect opportunity to tell Vinnie that Sid's number has been disconnected; but quickly tells him that he would be willing to fight until Sid is contacted.

VINNIE LAND & SETH FEDER ended up taking a break from one another. Vinnie had business to take care of and let Seth remain in the newly built home in Las Vegas. Seth had aquired a batman suit, several new vehicles, expensive clothing,
and a butler named Alfred. Of course, we have to mention the high valued Batman graphic novels and comic book collections. He became so obsessed with this new persona that he hired Christopher Nolan and Christian Bale to help him become a real life Batman / Bruce Wayne. Oh, don't forget the King of the Ring is Saturday.

Vinnie Land has been trying to learn how to deal with the new revelation that he received from Seth, but still believes it's a big prank. Without the knowledge of Seth, he decided to hire specialists to look further into this father-son deal. Seth, on the other hand, decides he's going to continue to milk it like it's the truth.

To be honest, Mr. Lane couldn't help but feel a bit overwhelmed with how Seth is acting towards him upon their last encounter at the casino. No matter where he went in the world, Seth would figure out where he was staying and send him presents to show some appreciation. The sending of gifts was out of character from the Seth Feder we all know, as was the receiving gifts to Vinnie Lane. They both were out of their elements during this time and they both were not sure how to react. Vinnie Lane never had a son -- that he knew of, and Seth never really had a strong relationship with Poppa Feder.

From the floor mat that said "The Feder-Lane Family" to the pink t-shirt that read "The #1 Dad" all seemed normal to a Brady Bunch-like family, but to a Feder-Lane possible family was a bit.... strange.

In between these strange bonding moments, Vinnie was running a company and walking around with his eyes constantly looking in every direction; and Seth was trying to get back into ring shape by playing Batman.

Friday Night Arrives - One Day Before KOTR

A video was received by Vinnie Lane to help promote the King of the Ring event, more specifically the match itself from his "son."

It's dark outside. You can see the Vegas lights far into the background, but not enough to light the person standing in front of the camera. It wasn't clear who it was until he spoke.

"The clown. It still talks.

Panzy called me a baby in some previous promo, then complains that I get opportunities; and now he starts talking baby talk. I'm pretty sure we can all come the conclusion that Panzy is indeed the one with the pacifier stuck in his mouth.

After he realized how shitty his promo was towards me, he goes on to copy me by saying he wants me to break his arm so he can stop listening. You're the one that brought up my pops and brother, not me -- so I'm really not sure what you're complaining about when I brought up the fact that you brought them up. What the fuck did I just say?

Seriously Panzy, talking to you in this back-and-forth deal is like talking to a fucking baby. I don't mean it in the sense of saying you're acting like one, I mean in the sense you are one. And since you are one, I get why it's difficult to grasp what I'm saying and you get all confused. You can blame it on being from another world or planet or universe, but we can all safely say it's because you're a baby. Perhaps you're controlling this dumbass clown with a remote control.

What makes it worse is when you deny your butt-pirate relationship with Trax. When you try to talk all grown-up, I can see those similarities between the two of you -- meaning the emphasizing words PERIODICALLY-AH. You two are a match made in heaven. Maybe he likes your baby talk.

I'm not sure what the kind of tension is between you and Trax at the moment, but you both are lusting hard after my family. All you either can do is talk about Sid and Pops. Sid this... Pops that --- Sid this... Pops that.

I think you're obsessing more over my brother than Vinnie is -- and that's fucking sad. I should have taken a XWF pool to see how many times you'll talk about my family and mention their name.

I get the need you wanna talk about them and that

-desire to be with them or be in the ring with them. Hey man, I'm not into the jackhammer scene but if that's what you do with your 'powers' then dream on about Sid and Papa Feder. Hell, I don't even know why you want to bring them up in your promo -- you weren't even around when they were here. You must have been doing some deep google searching on them. Which one is your computer background? -- Sid or Pops? --

.

And really -- so what if Vinnie fucked my mom? You assume she slept around because a few kids from two different fathers? That's a big leap of an assumption, but that's what you tend to do. I mean, it is your gimmick -- is it not? You like to use that imagination. You jump in your cardboard box and pretend it's spaceship, then you go fly anywhere you want.

Too bad you can't go back in time and stop your birth. That would save us a lot of headaches,

What We Know So Far

The Review

IN PART ONE we find out the whereabouts of Seth Feder. He's into some debt with various people, but they are not the only ones looking for him. Vinnie Land is trying to find Seth in hopes that he would be able to get in touch with his brother Sid Feder. At the right time, Seth finally answers Vinnie but requests a nice payday. This helps Seth pay off his debt, and have some left over to continue his ways. Vinnie feels screwed and once again cannot get in touch with Seth until Seth phones Vinnie, and mentions he's in the desert.

IN PART TWO Vinnie sends a helicopter to pickup Seth. The pilot ends up passing out due to Seth goofing around, and finally wakes up pissed. To calm things down, Seth decides to reveal a big secret that no one knows about to the pilot whose name is Timothy. The secret is Vinnie Lane is really Seth's father. On this new bit of information, the two decide to take a detour and go party. Seth also finally dials Sid's number, but it's disconnected.

IN PART THREE Seth decides to tell Vinnie the truth -- that he is his father. Vinnie gets upset at the prank because of loud mouth Timothy. To a bit of shock, Seth tells Vinnie that it isn't a prank and he has proof.

IN PART FOUR we find Seth drugging Vinnie and stealing several thousand dollars to go gamble in Vegas. Upon Vinnie coming back into reality, he begins the search for Seth and locates him. Before Vinnie could really react, he finds Seth winning. In fact, Seth ends up making them both half a million dollars. While this brings Vinnie's nerves a bit calm, Seth sees it as the perfect opportunity to tell Vinnie that Sid's number has been disconnected; but quickly tells him that he would be willing to fight until Sid is contacted.

VINNIE LAND & SETH FEDER ended up taking a break from one another. Vinnie had business to take care of and let Seth remain in the newly built home in Las Vegas. Seth had aquired a batman suit, several new vehicles, expensive clothing,
and a butler named Alfred. Of course, we have to mention the high valued Batman graphic novels and comic book collections. He became so obsessed with this new persona that he hired Christopher Nolan and Christian Bale to help him become a real life Batman / Bruce Wayne. Oh, don't forget the King of the Ring is Saturday.

Friday Night Arrives - One Day Before KOTR

-talk, and the world would just be a better place. But I get it, you're powers do have its limits.

Maybe after this failure of being a clown, you can morph into a Power Ranger and talk about the evil monsters that are going to come down and attack us all, then you'll be our hero. Fuck. I really hope we can just fast forward your dumb shit so you'll end up like Blockbuster.

And now to Engy and Maddy....

Someone told me Maddy has a thing for me. It's understandable. I'm not here to fuck your bitch Engy. She's really not that good looking, but to each his own. Someone has to fuck her I guess -- so why not you champ? A team player.

By the way things are done between you two, it seems Madison likes to do all the talking and you like to do all the fighting -- can we call it fighting? Hey man, everyone likes to try. I have no problem with you trying and all.

Truth be told, the word is you guys have my name in your laptop via search engine results. The rumor is Madison was looking up something and saw my name in the history and blamed ole Engy. If this is true, and Engy denied the search, maybe Madison's been searching and so Engy wouldn't get all upset, she beat him to it and played the blame game. Now, it may be fake. That's just a rumor. If it is fake, then it seems to me that I'm on someone's mind. Maybe it's why Madison wanted to try and trash talk me -- to get my attention.

Madison just needs something to plug her mouth shut, and apparently she isn't getting it from a certain someone.

Serious Engy, you're trying way too hard to be about the ladies. And Madison is trying way too hard not to be interested in 10 Times Better Seth Feder.

After I get crowned King ---

Blue lights are flashing nearby which divides Seth's attention. He starts rambling nonsense while slowly looking away in the direction of the siren. If he doesn't react, then his career as the "Batman" are over.

WHAT WILL HAPPEN?

WILL THE CAPED CRUSADER IGNORE HIS INNER PULL TO HELP ANOTHER INNOCENT VICTIM? -- OR WILL HE TURN A DEAF EAR AND CONTINUE ON HIS RANT ABOUT HIS UPCOMING OPPONENTS?

THERE'S ONLY ONE WAY TO FIND OUT!

TUNE IN NEXT WEEK...

SAME BAT TIME...

SAME BAT CHANNEL....

Seth pauses and looks like he just heard a voice. He starts asking himself while the camera continues to record if anyone heard that voice. Of course no one else is around to answer.

He takes the camera with him and moves with haste towards the police siren -- but not faster than a speeding bullet. His feet carry him down the steps from the building he was at and into the streets. He looked around and noticed nobody was paying much attention to what was going on. Taken back, he reached into his pocket and grabbed his cell.

"Alfred? Hey, it's Seth. Fuck that Batman shit. I'm 10 times better than that fuck. I'm Seth Feder! I'm 10 Times Better than anyone on this fucking Earth. Get the plane ready. It's time for me to go see Vin and beat some bitches to get a crown.

--- Firing you? Hell no. We're good. Call Pops and tell him I'll be arriving shortly."

After he hangs up, he searches his contacts and finds his brother's name. He deletes it. A smile comes across his face and he seems to be back to norm before the whole Batman deal.

Perhaps Seth is moving on with his life and getting out of the shadow of another Feder such as Sid, or even Bruce Wayne / Batman. The wild and unhinged loner walks through the streets of Las Vegas once again with a cigarette in his mouth.

After a few blocks, he stops into a hole in the wall strip club.

The strip club is known to have some rough people there who like to gamble. Seth spots a few and is back at it.

.........................................................................
....................................................................
..............................................................

Seth wakes up with a busted lip, messy hair, and his clothes ripped like he had a rough night. He hears a voice welcome him from waking up, and let's him know he has less than eight hours to pay what he owes or he's going to lose some fingers.

He requests for one phone call.

"Hey? Vinnie? No, this isn't a new number. I'm using someone else's phone. Look ---

Seth goes on to tell Vinnie he went bak to gambling and lost a substantial amount. Vinnie can be heard yelling at Seth and telling him it's time to cut the bullshit. Vinnie gives the final proposal: he pays this last debt if he gets in contact with Sid.

"-- There's a small issue. I didn't want to tell you since finding out your my dad and all. The truth is Vin, Sid is dead."

Vinnie goes silent for a few minutes,
but seems a lot longer. The next words Seth hears stuns him -- Vinnie agrees to pay the debt again. Seth gives him the address and Lane confirms he'll be by to pick him up, and head out for King of the Ring tomorrow evening.

"-- Thanks. There's a lot more to the story with Sid. No body has actually been discovered, but let's say I --."]]> <![CDATA[Just Perfect]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=29011 Fri, 18 Aug 2017 21:20:23 -0700 KimAnderson]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=29011 Of course life has decided just a few days before the biggest match of my career, a match that could have won me a title shot for either the Hart or TV title, a match I could have easily won but I had to get my period early for the first time in my life, so now here I am sitting in my hotel room bloated, tired and my boobs hurt more then they did when I was pregnant and to make matters worse my face looks like I have been washing it with pizza grease but still some how I am expected to wrestle tomorrow night, still expected to be in the ring while I am bleeding like a stuck pig.

That is the shitty part about being a female that no matter when aunt flow comes to town you are expected to act like nothing is happening, like nothing is wrong but I am sorry that is not the case, all I really want to do right now is roll into a ball with a tub of chocolate ice cream and a heating pad pressed against my stomach trying to rid of these cramps.

I truly don't know if I will be in any shape to wrestle tomorrow night but nothing I can do about it now as the match is booked and well XWF doesn't give sick days for periods. So Random, Holliday and Le'Croix I guess I will be seeing you tomorrow but just know that no matter who wins, know that you didn't beat me at my best.]]> Of course life has decided just a few days before the biggest match of my career, a match that could have won me a title shot for either the Hart or TV title, a match I could have easily won but I had to get my period early for the first time in my life, so now here I am sitting in my hotel room bloated, tired and my boobs hurt more then they did when I was pregnant and to make matters worse my face looks like I have been washing it with pizza grease but still some how I am expected to wrestle tomorrow night, still expected to be in the ring while I am bleeding like a stuck pig.

That is the shitty part about being a female that no matter when aunt flow comes to town you are expected to act like nothing is happening, like nothing is wrong but I am sorry that is not the case, all I really want to do right now is roll into a ball with a tub of chocolate ice cream and a heating pad pressed against my stomach trying to rid of these cramps.

I truly don't know if I will be in any shape to wrestle tomorrow night but nothing I can do about it now as the match is booked and well XWF doesn't give sick days for periods. So Random, Holliday and Le'Croix I guess I will be seeing you tomorrow but just know that no matter who wins, know that you didn't beat me at my best.]]> <![CDATA[She-Wolf: Final Thoughts Before Becoming the Bombshell Champion]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=29009 Fri, 18 Aug 2017 21:05:02 -0700 Jenny Myst]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=29009 LANDING IN LONDON:

Jenny was wearing a valor track suit as the plane rolled to a stop at the terminal in Heathrow. She paused her music and grabbed her neck pillow. That was a long flight, but she took first class, of course, so it wasn't too bad. She was about to be bombshell champion, after all. She was watching Abigail's promo now that she was on the ground, and a bitchy look crossed her face.

Times ticking down, Missy. Times ticking down real fast. It seems like you've maybe got caught in a web of Chris Chaos as of late. A little caught up in his moment, maybe?

"What the fuck? I was on a plane. I don't have to answer to this twat or promo when she wants me to. I have plenty to say.....but I can't exactly promo from 30,000 feet. There is no connection up there. God she's dumb."

Standing up, she grabbed her bag out of the overhead storage. She had to go on her tip toes, but she did it herself. She didn't need or want any help. She was determined to do it by herself, just like she was going to win the title all by herself. She didn't need Madison.

Fuck Abigail, there is no "agreement". Madison said she is going to call it down the middle.

Dumb cunt, she needs to pay more attention.

She walks out of the terminal and it is exactly as Chris described. It was absolutely gorgeous. Fit for a queen.

Fit for her.

As she walked towards the exit, she had a limo waiting for her. Did London have Uber? She didn't care, she was riding in style this week. She deserved it, after all. But she didn't get far. There was a gathering of people, all holding signs and wearing shirts. Her signs. Her shirts. This was a new sensation for her. She was used to people hating her.

Most of the signs were held by and the shirts worn by young girls. A lot of them had their hair dyed just the same way as Myst did, blonde with the pink tips.

Perfection.

Jenny couldn't help but smile as a young girl, probably around ten, approached her. She was wearing a shirt with Jenny's face on it. She had what looked like an autograph pad. Jenny set her back down, she knew what was coming.

"What does this little twat want", she thought to herself. But, she didn't say that. She smiled at the girl and went to one knee to greet her.

"Oh my god! Jenny! I love you!" the girl squeaked.

Jenny smiled at the girl, but the corner of her lips were a small snarl.

"Can I have your autograph?"

Jenny smiled another fake smile, saying "sure!"

She scribbled JM in interlocking letters. The girl squealed again.

"When I grow up, I want to be just like you!"

That was horrifying. Where were this girls parents?

Jenny stood up, but there was more to sign. It took her damn near 40 minutes to get through them all. Finally, she saw a man with a walkie talkie walk up to her.

"Ms. Myst, I am here to take you to your car. You're booked on a talk show in one hour, and its on the other side of the city. We need to get you there."

There was a collective sigh from the crowd, but they understood. They clapped and cheered as she passed.

"Oh thank god" she said as they walked away. "I thought I was going to have to sign them all. Jesus, its like these brits never get out of the house."

He looked at her.

"Oh. sorry. Well, thanks anyway."

THE SHOW:

"Welcome Back to Talking Chad! I am your host Chadwick Largeteeth and I am here with the beautiful, sassy and bloody tough Jenny Myst of the XWF!"

She smiles and waves to the camera.

"So tell us, Jenn, how has your first trip to London been?"

"Great, great.....It was a long flight and I am a little tired but I will be able to get a good nights sleep before my title match victory tomorrow! Not to mention a tea session and a first class London foot massage!"

Chadwick smiles.

"So, you have a big match tomorrow night, under the lights in Wembley. You have to be super excited."

She smiles again to the camera. Cheesy, sure, but hey--its the responsibility of a champion to be sociable.

"Super excited! I am finally getting a shot at the belt they have made for me and been teasing me with for weeks. I am about to run the entire women's division in the XWF, I couldn't be more excited!"

"Your opponents have been throwing some serious Shade, miss. Well, one has anyway."

"Everyone loves to talk, but she needs to get it out of her system so I let her. It is all hot gas anyway. There is nothing between the ears with that one, let me tell ya!"

"Go on...."

"Well, let me put it this way for ya. Abigail is the type of person who can't decide which side of a Twix tastes better. She looks like she uses gasoline as body wash. She sounds like she got a tampon stuck up there and is experiencing the beginning stages of toxic shock syndrome.......bottom line, she's dumb, she smells and she flat out sucks."

He grins a bit.

"Spoken like a true heel."

"This isn't even about heel or face, this is about a dumb twit and her big mouth being put in her place. It is about proving my worth instead of saying it."

He nods, jotting something in a notebook.

"You know, umm....Chadwick, you said? Chadwick....it is baffling to me, truly, what some of these opponents come up with. Now I see what Chris had to deal with all this time. No wonder he always complained about how dumb the XWF roster was. These window lickers don't do their research first, they spout off at the mouths and then pat themselves on the back for a job well done when all they did was make themselves look idiotic. Ezariaha has gotten a case of weak-bitch and Abigail has proven she is nothing more than a pawn for someone else and incapable of her own thoughts. She sounds like she was reading off a cue card, but whoever wrote it gave her some bad information."

Chadwick crossed his legs the other way.

"Which information is that?"

They turned to the big video screen in front of them.

"Lets take a look shall we?"

Abigail's face came up on the screen. Jenny could feel a little puke in her mouth at the sight of it.

Some amazing things are definitely going to transpire at King of the Ring. What makes it sweeter, is that I couldn't care less about it.

She shook her head, and palmed her face. Was this bitch serious? How could she sit there and say that? Why even bother showing up?

"Don't mistake me explaining the result of me becoming champion as a desire to become champion, Missy."

"Does that sound like a champion to you, Chadwick?"

He shook his head.

"Me either. Sounds to me like she is going through the motions, no? Well don't mistake what I am saying either, toots. Yes I feel like I am GOING to win this title.....but I want this more than anything else also. I want it more than I wanted anything else in my entire life. That passion, that drive, that want that flat out NEED to win this belt, that is what will fuel me. I am going to bring a fury that has never before been seen from me. I am going to bring a fire that has been burning in me since they announced this title belt. A fire I haven't felt before. A fire I never even knew I had. She doesn't WANT to be champion, yet EXPECTS to be champion......yet I am the entitled one? Psssht.....please."

Chadwick jotted something down, then smiled into the camera.

"Miss Myst, tell us why you would be the best candidate as the champion of the Bombshell division?"

She smiled. She seemed to sweet to Chadwick, he didn't understand for the life of him why everyone seemed to hate her.

"Well, Chadwick, that is a great question. I think I deserve this because I have been the one who has put in the most work. Abigail calls my record less than stellar, and I agree, it isn't a record that looks overly flattering. 9-5 is good, don't get me wrong, but you need to consider the full scale of it. I've faced some of the best competition on this roster and though not always successful, I've been competitive in every single one. I guess that counts as somewhat of a win, right?"

The future Bombshell Champion and the obviously gay talk show host share a chuckle.

"But for real, not only am I the one who will look best with this belt, but I am the one who will fight best. I think I have proven myself. Madison thinks I have proven myself. I have stood up to the challenge of big names and even bigger men and have not been afraid. I slapped Brock Lesnar in the face, twice, without fear. I have felt so much fear in my life there just isn't any time for it anymore. I am immune to it. The only place I can go is up from here. The only thing I can do is stand up to this new information about a scheme to keep me from holding the belt I deserve. I am the victim here, and I wil rise above."

Chadwick nods his head, the pen in his mouth.

"I just want all the little girls in London to look up to me as their Bombshell Champion. To have photos and posters of me in their rooms. I want the little girls to see that a girl who has been bullied her entire life and who has went through hell can make something of herself and become a champion through it all."

Chadwick removes the pen from his mouth, nodding his head again.

".....Right, the little girls. You're last two promos were titled names that we can't say on this broadcast. They are names that are derogatory towards women and were very profanity laden. Is that the message you want to send to the little girls?"

Touche, Chadwick.

Without missing a beat, the soon-to-be Bombshell Champion fired back.

"Have you never said something about someone that may be viewed as questionable? What makes you so perfect? Get off your soapbox, Chadwick, and realize this is 2017. They are going to hear those words regardless, they are all over the internet."

"They aren't in my house."

The conversation went dark quickly, as Jenny's attitude turned hostile towards the host.

"Oh, did you and your partner adopt?"

"....my wife and I?"

"Ahh so acknowledging one is the female role."

"She is a female, yes, as are you."

"Come on Chad," she said with a laugh, "I mean--you're obviously gay."

The host was getting upset now. His leg began bouncing.

"I am not!"

"Haha, come on....you clearly are."

Now he knew why they all hated her, she was a total chav.

For those who don't speak British, here is a side note: The Oxford English Dictionary defines chav as an informal British derogatory, meaning "a young lower-class person who displays brash and loutish behaviour and wears real or imitation designer clothes".

"You know, Jenny---this attitude isn't going to get you very far."

She laughed to herself, rolling her eyes.

"What, you want someone on this show like Abigail? Someone who will conform to what society wants and change things for the better? She's obviously good at taking orders.....she would be perfect in your socialist fucking dict-----"

"Someone cut her mic!"

He made the chop symbol on the neck with his hand.

"No, no Chadwick. They aren't going to silence me. They aren't going to stop me! I am going to be heard loud and far! I am Jenny Myst, damnit, and it is high time I start getting some damn respect around here! You want to know why Abigail thinks I sound so entitled? Because I have to! I am under attack from all the sides all the time! Am I expected to cave in and give up? HELL NO. I AM JENNY MYST AND I AM GOING TO BE THE BOMBSHELL CHAMPION! MARK THAT DOWN!"

Her voice is a shrill screech now. She is panting breaths between sentences.

"I AM GOING TO LEAVE LONDON WITH THE BELT I DESERVE!"

She reaches into her bra in a quick movement as security begins to approach.

Just then, she opens her eyes.....the lights are on......

"Welcome Back to Talking Chad! I am your host Chadwick Largeteeth and I am here with the beautiful, sassy and bloody tough Jenny Myst of the XWF!"

"This is gonna be good" she says to herself in her head as she smiles and waves at the camera.

THE DIVA OF THE DAMNED:

I would bet money that you have never been alone in your entire life.

"You better get your wallet out then, you stupid, stupid girl. You better make sure Vinnie gives you a little intensive in your check this week, or when you blow him before the Pay Per View you better swallow this time. Your money is as good as mine, then, just as this belt is.

I can't even believe it. I mean, are you that dense? I knew you were dumb but do you need one of those handicapped placards for your car? Do you know what is is like to actually be alone? Like, alone alone? So alone that even your thoughts don't want to be near you? Do you know what it is like to live in 10 different foster homes by te age of 13? 10! Do you know what it is like to spend most of your early years sleeping under an overpass because your family was too fucked up to go home to---and their "home" was a fort made of milk crates and newspapers? Meth is a hell of a drug. Combine it with gambling and holy hell. Have you spend a year eating only bread and drinking water you weren't sure was clean or not, but it was the only water you had? Have you ever had to kill your adoptive father to get the mob to let you out of a deal he made where you are their sex slave-for-hire? Have you ever been alone in the desert and had to make your own way, facing dehydration and sun poisoning? Have you ever went to sleep knowing you would wake up and not wanting to? Don't you EVER tell me about being alone. You are GODDAMN RIGHT I have been alone, and it has made me a stronger person. It has made me a tougher person.

They show a sad little girl who's lost and scared.

Bring that to the ring, come in with the mentality that I am at all scared of you. In the least. Please. I am scarred, but not scared. I am bent almost to the point of snapping, but I am not broken. By no means am I broken. I have seen and done more in my 24 years than most people do in a lifetime. You think my backstory promos are boring? Good, fuck you. I don't care. I am coming to maim and mangle. Fuck just winning, Abigail, I want to hurt you. I want to beat you to within an inch of your life. I want to make you regret coming back to the XWF. I am going to regret making you know the words bomb and shell. You are coming for the neck? I am coming to rip your heart of your flat chest and eat it raw. I was all about competition until you opened your mouth. I am not being cute here with punchlines and clever ways to insult you. I am coming right at you. Fuck mace, I am going to leave it at home. I am going to beat you with my fists. I am going to beat you with my feet. I am going to beat you with my H-E-A-R-T. I am a she wolf and right now you are a direct threat......soon to become......prey.

That princess thing. That self-entitlement thing. That spoiled brat insisting that an entire division belongs to her.

[i]The bitch is back, and this bitch is, from now on, your superior. I just spent 3 promos now telling you WHY it is mine, so maybe you should go back and watch those because quite frankly I don't feel the need to explain it further. I don't even feel the need to talk to you anymore. Quoting your promos is just giving your garbage undeserved attention. Just know, if nothing else, that when I get to London there are no if's ands or buts about it. I am leaving with this.......

But I am coming with this......

I am your new Bombshell Champion and the funny thing.........I always was ..........

Get used to it.

100 Percent, Pure

PERFECTION

9-5-0

]]> LANDING IN LONDON:

Jenny was wearing a valor track suit as the plane rolled to a stop at the terminal in Heathrow. She paused her music and grabbed her neck pillow. That was a long flight, but she took first class, of course, so it wasn't too bad. She was about to be bombshell champion, after all. She was watching Abigail's promo now that she was on the ground, and a bitchy look crossed her face.

Times ticking down, Missy. Times ticking down real fast. It seems like you've maybe got caught in a web of Chris Chaos as of late. A little caught up in his moment, maybe?

"What the fuck? I was on a plane. I don't have to answer to this twat or promo when she wants me to. I have plenty to say.....but I can't exactly promo from 30,000 feet. There is no connection up there. God she's dumb."

Standing up, she grabbed her bag out of the overhead storage. She had to go on her tip toes, but she did it herself. She didn't need or want any help. She was determined to do it by herself, just like she was going to win the title all by herself. She didn't need Madison.

Fuck Abigail, there is no "agreement". Madison said she is going to call it down the middle.

Dumb cunt, she needs to pay more attention.

She walks out of the terminal and it is exactly as Chris described. It was absolutely gorgeous. Fit for a queen.

Fit for her.

As she walked towards the exit, she had a limo waiting for her. Did London have Uber? She didn't care, she was riding in style this week. She deserved it, after all. But she didn't get far. There was a gathering of people, all holding signs and wearing shirts. Her signs. Her shirts. This was a new sensation for her. She was used to people hating her.

Most of the signs were held by and the shirts worn by young girls. A lot of them had their hair dyed just the same way as Myst did, blonde with the pink tips.

Perfection.

Jenny couldn't help but smile as a young girl, probably around ten, approached her. She was wearing a shirt with Jenny's face on it. She had what looked like an autograph pad. Jenny set her back down, she knew what was coming.

"What does this little twat want", she thought to herself. But, she didn't say that. She smiled at the girl and went to one knee to greet her.

"Oh my god! Jenny! I love you!" the girl squeaked.

Jenny smiled at the girl, but the corner of her lips were a small snarl.

"Can I have your autograph?"

Jenny smiled another fake smile, saying "sure!"

She scribbled JM in interlocking letters. The girl squealed again.

"When I grow up, I want to be just like you!"

That was horrifying. Where were this girls parents?

Jenny stood up, but there was more to sign. It took her damn near 40 minutes to get through them all. Finally, she saw a man with a walkie talkie walk up to her.

"Ms. Myst, I am here to take you to your car. You're booked on a talk show in one hour, and its on the other side of the city. We need to get you there."

There was a collective sigh from the crowd, but they understood. They clapped and cheered as she passed.

"Oh thank god" she said as they walked away. "I thought I was going to have to sign them all. Jesus, its like these brits never get out of the house."

He looked at her.

"Oh. sorry. Well, thanks anyway."

THE SHOW:

"Welcome Back to Talking Chad! I am your host Chadwick Largeteeth and I am here with the beautiful, sassy and bloody tough Jenny Myst of the XWF!"

She smiles and waves to the camera.

But I am coming with this......

I am your new Bombshell Champion and the funny thing.........I always was ..........

Get used to it.

100 Percent, Pure

PERFECTION

9-5-0

]]> <![CDATA[Engy Dies At The End]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=29010 Fri, 18 Aug 2017 20:29:50 -0700 The Engineer]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=29010 Hey guys. Got kind of a big announcement.

Engy looks down over the lip of the roof of the skyscraper he's currently standing on. The street below is awash in the red and blue of police and paramedic emergency lights. A crowd has also gathered behind a police barricade, intent on seeing the spectacle. But what spectacle is that exactly?

I'm gonna kill myself.

Oh.

I've been thinkin' about it for a while. But I was always able to talk myself outta it before, ya know? “Hey, don't kill yourself, there's a new episode of MLP on this week!” “Hey, don't kill yourself, Ecto-Cooler is back for a limited time only!” “Hey, don't kill yourself, this could be the day Jenny's titty pops out in the middle of a match!” But lately, I just ran outta reasons. My brain's all twisted up and shitty and I'm....I'm rememberin' things....bad things....

Engy looks at the camera solemnly.

So, yeah, today's the big day. Engy road pizza. I wanna thank Madison and Dr. Bennie for helpin' me. I wanna thank Uncle Donald for all the tax payer monies. I wanna thank this camera guy for followin' me up here to film me killin' myself.....

The camera guy shoots Engy a thumbs up. Jesus, is being a sociopath a REQUIREMENT for the job?

And I don't wanna thank anyone else because they all mostly suck.

Engy starts to climb up onto the ledge of the building, but he stops for one more thing.

Oh yeah, here's what happened that led to this. Enjoy this flashback thingie. Hopefully when you come back they'll already be scrapin' me off the street. Bye!

36 Hours Before...

Yet again, we are within the confines of the offices of presidential psychiatrist Dr. Bennie. Engy is laying on the leather couch, with the esteemed doctor sitting at his head. Engy seems particularly off today, his fidgety body language betraying the fact that he doesn't seem to know what to do with himself. He picks at a scab on his palm, and then when that fails to dislodge the annoyance he brings it to his mouth and starts chewing.

So Engy, it's been a week since we last met. How are you doing?

Engy spits the scab onto the carpet.

Not so good Doc. I mean, I got that big pay per view comin' up, but everything else sucks. I got chased by some fellow black guys for no reason. Madison had a priest sprinkle some funny water on me. And Seth Feder keeps tryin' to turn me gay by makin' me think of his veiny, meaty cock all the time.

Oh my, it sounds like quite a bit has happened to you since our last session. How's your thinking? Have you been feeling any smarter?

Ehhhh, I dunno. Maybe?

It's clear by Engy's evasive responses that something is going unsaid. The doctor looks at Engy over the edge of his spectacles, drinking in his nonverbal signals.

Hmmmm. Well, the medication I've been giving you should have been having some sort of effect on you by now. Are you sure that there isn't something bothering you that could be getting in the way of you giving me an honest assessment of your abilities?

Doc, that sentence was like 6 or 7 words too long.

Dr. Bennie chuckles.

Ok, maybe we're not there yet. But let me say this. I've been thinking a lot about what you said in our last session. And I've been watching all your promo's online.

You have?!

Yes, I have. And there is one thing that strikes me. Engy, what do you think all this business about thinking your a black man, and confusing your history with a TV show, and worrying about your sexuality....what do you think all that has in common?

Engy sits up abruptly.

But I am a black man and my life is NOT a TV show! AND I'M NOT GAY!

Relax my friend, relax. I'm trying to help you. But, if you had to take a guess, what do those concepts have in common?

How the fuck should I know, you're the brain science guy.

The doc sits back in his chair, putting his red and blue shades in his lap.

Okay then, Ill tell you what I think. I think the thing that all those things have in common are that they cut to the most very basic aspects of your identity. Who you are. Where you come from. What makes you YOU. And I think you want the world to be just as confused as you are about who and what the Engineer is.

The doctor leans forward, and as he does so the shadowing on his face hits a different angle. It serves the unusual purpose of making him look like someone or something else, altering his countenance just enough to make him eerily unfamiliar. Engy leans away from the doc in response, as even he can sense the subtle tonal shift in the room.

But let's be honest Engy, your not as confused as you'd like us all to believe. You see, I'm very familiar with what the experimental medicine I gave you can do. Consequently, I know that some of the damage to your brain has already started rectifying itself. So I think you are improving. I think your memory is coming back. And I think all this identity confusion is just your way of trying to avoid the truth. My only question is why? What in there is so horrible that even a man as fearsome as you is afraid to confront it?

The doc lets the question hang in the air a moment. Engy gets to his feet and dusts himself off.

You know what doc, your right. My brain's better now. So I think we're done. Check's in the mail....bye bye!

Engy starts to head for the door.

Sit.

The word, though not spoken harshly, seems to reverberate with authority. The doctor gestures towards the couch. Engy turns back towards it, and inexplicably sits back down.

How....how did you do that....?

I asked politely.

Yeah, but....

Nevermind that. We need to get down to brass tacks. We're at a critical juncture in your therapy, and if we don't strike while the iron is hot all of this could be for nothing.

You mean I gotta talk about hard things?

Yes, the HARDEST things.

Engy whines pitifully, kicking his feet out like a small child.

Please now, none of that. Getting better takes hard work. It's a challenge, no doubt about it. But it's the only way your going to progress and become a better Engy.

Engy fiddles with the hem of his shirt, looking down and avoiding the doctor's gaze.

But what if the bad stuff I remember is really, REALLY bad?

I assure you, any secrets you may have are safe with me. Now please, lay back down, close your eyes and let the memories come to you. It may be scary, but try not to fight them.

Engy shoots the doc a hesitant glance, but then finally complies. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. And slowly, the memories start to creep in. And creep is the most appropriate word. They pry open the windows of his mind, slinking into the house like a knife in the night. Insidious. Merciless. Terrifying.

Engy is sitting on a frayed carpet in the center of a room. It's twilight indoors, the function of a sole dying light bulb. A woman is laying on the couch to his left. The needle is still in her arm. She's wearing a stained bathrobe, and she's naked underneath. Her legs are spread, and beyond her thighs lies the forbidden paradise he had only been able to sneak peeks of in the dirty magazines at the corner store. But the oddest thing about her is her face. It's just a black hole. There's nothing there.

Engy squirms on the couch.

Let it come my boy, let it come.

He knows he shouldn't look at the space between her legs. It's naughty and wrong, but it makes his insides feel funny and it makes his peepee feel good. He steals a peek.

But the monster sees him do it. He turns towards the monster, moving fast with a jaunty sort of hitch to it's walk. It seems to vibrate as it moves, never fully in the moment but in all moments. A beast beyond understanding in a yellowing wife beater t-shirt and blue jeans. His head is a hole too. But nonetheless we can hear him ranting.

YoU siCk sImPLe liTTle fUcK!!

He tries to run. He always tries to run but the beast always catches him. This time he grabs his ankle, twisting and pulling him back towards him. He begs him. He always begs and it never works.

YoUr worThLeSS! You liKe wHat'S iN thErE?! HuH? Be BETTeR iF YoU wEnt bAcK insIde!

Engy sits up, hyperventilating.

You know what Doc! I changed my mind! I'm an alien baby! I came from a dying planet and now I'm on Earth and I'm here to save people and make them happy!

Your not a superhero Engy.

But I can be! I can be anything I want. Just not this, ok? Just not this....

SO GO BACK in!!

The monster is too strong. Too, too strong. It grabs him by the head and forces his face under the woman's robe. Past the thighs. Into paradise.

Please Doc, Superman! I'll be Superman! Just let, just let....

You are NOT Superman. Tell me what you see! Quickly!

Engy kneels on the couch, his lips quivering and cheek ticcing. But it's too late now. The nightmares are in the house. They're in the house and creeping up the stairs and their knives are catching the moonlight, the light getting sucked into the nothing faces of the assassins.

He's in a bath tub now. The faucet is breaking off into flakes of rust. It's not in a bathroom though. It's in the middle of a large room, surrounded by people in scary robes. The woman and the monster are there, they are still wearing their nothing faces but somehow he knows it's them. The rest of the people don't have nothing faces. Just hoods with a weird symbol on them, like two bent triangles, one right side up and the other upside down, with a little star in the middle. “Thelema” the robed people say. “Thelema and The Book of Law”. It doesn't make any sense, which just makes it that much scarier. He covers his ears to drown out the strange words, the bad words, the nonsense words. Someone pries his hands from his ears and the strange words infect him again. “The Sword and the serpent.” “Thelema.” “Aiwass.” “Thelema.”

One of the robes brings a bucket over and starts dumping it's contents on him. Entrails, blood and viscera spill onto him. Getting in his eyes. His mouth. It's the first time he tastes blood.

“Thelema.” “Aiwass.” “Thelema.”

Engy, tell me what you see!

I'm blasting off from Krypton, doc! My parents love me so much that they gave their lives to make sure I'm safe! Isn't that nice?

TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE!

THELEMA. AIWASS. THELEMA.

NO! FUCK NO!

Engy rises to his feet, toppling over a standing lamp as he does so. He's gasping for breaths now, chest heaving with barely repressed panic.

Why can't I just be a superhero, huh? Why not? It's better that way. Easier. Please, please, just let me be Superman.....please....?

He's pleading now, black ashy tears rolling down his face. It strikes the doctor, in this moment, just how vulnerable he is. How childlike. Begging him to cling to a fantasy, to anything really, anything other than the wide awake terror that is his real life. The doctor, in a rare moment of humanity, finds himself overcome. He cannot speak. And then, Engy rushes for the door.

Wait! Don't go!

The doctor follows him into the hallway, but Engy is deceptively fast, he's already down the first flight of stairs. The doctor curses and pulls out his cellphone. He makes a call.

Yeah, yeah, it's me. He's starting to remember, but it's worse than I anticipated. I think it's in there, but he can't handle it yet. We need to activate the fail safe. Now.

36 Hours Later....

So, with that, we return to a man who is, quite literally, standing on the precipice of his own oblivion. Or, sitting on it at least. Engy's legs hang over the edge of the building, as police and emergency medical personnel down below prepare for the worst.

And there ya have it folks. The final nail in the coffin of my shitty life. Turns out the doc was right. All the dumb shit I say and do about myself is just a smokescreen for unspeakable horror. Fuckin' figures. So, toodles I guess....

Engy starts to get to his feet, when someone from down below booms out through a megaphone.

Mr Engineer, sir. I have someone down here who says that they're a friend of yours, and they'd like to speak with you!

Madison grabs hold of the megaphone, clearly looking annoyed.

GET DOWN HERE YOU TIT!

The police around her look horrified. The negotiator makes a neck slashing motion and frantically shakes his head “no”. Madison turns to him.

Chillax, I know what I'm doing.

I don't wanna come down, Madison! I wanna DIE. Which I guess means I DO wanna come down. But quickly. And die at the end.

WE DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR THIS. THE JET IS PREPPED AND READY, BUT ENGLAND IS FAR, FAR AWAY SO WE NEED TO LEAVE!

No! I don't wanna!

Madison pinches the bridge of her nose with exasperation.

FINE! KILL YOURSELF THEN! KILL YOURSELF AND LEAVE ALL THAT UNTAPPED POTENTIAL SPLATTERED ALL OVER THE FUCKING PAVEMENT!

Ma'am, I think....

The negotiator moves to take the megaphone from her, but she palms his face and shoves him away. From out of nowhere, her cadre of secret service agents form a perimeter around her.

Yeah, that's right. I outrank you bitches. Try it.

And again, into the megaphone.

YOU KNOW WHAT ENGY, I DON'T GIVE A FUCK WHAT DR. BENNIE MADE YOU SEE. I DON'T GIVE A FUCK HOW FUCKED UP YOUR LIFE HAS BEEN OR WHAT KIND OF SHIT YOU'VE BEEN THROUGH. ALL I KNOW IS THAT FOR ALL YOUR FAULTS YOU ARE NOT A PUSSY! CHRIST, I LITERALLY SAW YOU PULL OUT A MAN'S EYE AND SHIT IN THE SOCKET. YOU ARE A CRAZY MOTHERFUCKER! YOU CAN OVERCOME THIS. YOU CAN OVERCOME THIS AND BE A KING!

Yeah, but even if I'm a king my life is still a huge flamin' trainwreck! Nothin' will change that!

AND YOU KNOW WHAT, YOU'RE RIGHT. THE PAST CAN'T BE ALTERED. IT WILL ALWAYS BE A TRAINWRECK. HELL, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE A TRAINWRECK. BUT YOU CAN EITHER BE A TRAINWRECK WHO CRASHES ALONE OR CRASHES WITH TONS OF SCREAMING PASSENGERS ABOARD. AND RIGHT NOW, THOSE SCREAMING PASSENGERS ARE TRAX, PANZER, AND FEDDER. AND **SQUONK**

The megaphone shorts out and she tosses it to the side. She cups her hands around her mouth and shouts up to him.

And I got news for you. None of those guys deserve to be King of the Ring more than you! I mean, look at them! Trax is a D-list comic book super-villain, Panzer is a living, breathing Aristocrats joke minus the humor, and Fedder is an entitled pretty boy coasting on nepotism and legacy, who thus far can barely be arsed to even spare a word for his opponents. Whereas you have suffered through a lifetime of verbal, mental, and physical assaults, biting, clawing and scraping towards this very moment. This very DREAM!

You have earned this Engy! THIS IS YOURS! And as your manager....as your...

Madison stops a bit and swallows deep, mentally preparing herself for what is about to spill out of her mouth.

....as your FRIEND, Engy....I refuse to let you throw this away.

The shot returns to the roof. Engy is sitting on the ledge still. He wipes away a tear with the palm of his hand, and then he turns towards the camera.

Is she right? Is this mine? Can I be better than all this bad shit?

He looks way, way down below, considering his death.

Maybe she's right. Maybe I have earned this more than Panzer and Trax and Fedder. I mean, what do these other guys bring to the table that 'ol Engy don't? What right do they got to this that I don't?!

Okay, fine, maybe my life fuckin' sucks. But that's all the more edge I got over these other schmucks. Panzer's a supposed demi-God so his whole life's been easy street. Fedder got HANDED his fuckin' shot by Vinnie. And Trax, the only other guy who mighta had a tough life, is now a Marvel movie villain whose head is more up his own ass than in the game.

God damnit, I have NOT lived through bum fights, and starvation, and bein' homeless, and ritual cult abuse, and bein' a truck stop man whore just to get beat by these lowly FUCKS.

Engy shakes his head.

The truck stop man whore thing DID happen. But I didn't mean to say it. Shit.

He pounds his fist on the brick beside him.

FUCK IT. I'm stronger than this! I'm gonna win this shit! I'm gonna be KING OF THE FUCKIN' LOSERS BABY!

Engy shoots to his feet, pumping his fists triumphantly in the air.

YOU HEAR THAT WORLD?! KING OF THE FUCKIN' LOSERS BABAAAYYWHOAAAAAAAAAA

Engy starts to slip on the ledge, thrown off balance by his own celebration! The crowd down below gasps in horror and maybe a little bit of sexual arousal. Madison screeches! The cops avert their eyes. OH GOD HE'S GOING OVER!

Except he doesn't. At the last second, a hand catches his. Engy turns to see his savior, and a heavenly glow surrounds the beautiful woman who has quite literally saved his soul. He marvels at her, at her radiance. His mouth goes slack. And so taken is he that he doesn't even realize he's still dangerously close to doom.

Down below, the throngs wait with baited breath for a fatality that does not happen. Madison slowly pulls her hands from her mouth, as it dawns on her that Engy still hasn't fallen.

Wha....what happened? Is he ok?

Engy and this beautiful woman, hands still grasped against infinity, seem locked in time. Finally she squeezes Engy's hand, awakening him from the trance and prompting him to step down from the ledge. It takes him a bit to steel himself to speak with this angel. But finally, he does.

Who are you?

The woman smiles, and it's like the combined brilliance of a thousand suns.

[Image: tomi-lahren-obamacare.jpg]

My name is Tomi Lahren. I love you Engy. And I want to touch your penis for free.

Engy blinks stupidly, once, twice, three times.

Sweet.

[End!]]]> Hey guys. Got kind of a big announcement.

Engy looks down over the lip of the roof of the skyscraper he's currently standing on. The street below is awash in the red and blue of police and paramedic emergency lights. A crowd has also gathered behind a police barricade, intent on seeing the spectacle. But what spectacle is that exactly?

I'm gonna kill myself.

Oh.

I've been thinkin' about it for a while. But I was always able to talk myself outta it before, ya know? “Hey, don't kill yourself, there's a new episode of MLP on this week!” “Hey, don't kill yourself, Ecto-Cooler is back for a limited time only!” “Hey, don't kill yourself, this could be the day Jenny's titty pops out in the middle of a match!” But lately, I just ran outta reasons. My brain's all twisted up and shitty and I'm....I'm rememberin' things....bad things....

Engy looks at the camera solemnly.

So, yeah, today's the big day. Engy road pizza. I wanna thank Madison and Dr. Bennie for helpin' me. I wanna thank Uncle Donald for all the tax payer monies. I wanna thank this camera guy for followin' me up here to film me killin' myself.....

The camera guy shoots Engy a thumbs up. Jesus, is being a sociopath a REQUIREMENT for the job?

And I don't wanna thank anyone else because they all mostly suck.

Engy starts to climb up onto the ledge of the building, but he stops for one more thing.

Oh yeah, here's what happened that led to this. Enjoy this flashback thingie. Hopefully when you come back they'll already be scrapin' me off the street. Bye!

36 Hours Before...

Yet again, we are within the confines of the offices of presidential psychiatrist Dr. Bennie. Engy is laying on the leather couch, with the esteemed doctor sitting at his head. Engy seems particularly off today, his fidgety body language betraying the fact that he doesn't seem to know what to do with himself. He picks at a scab on his palm, and then when that fails to dislodge the annoyance he brings it to his mouth and starts chewing.

So Engy, it's been a week since we last met. How are you doing?

Engy spits the scab onto the carpet.

Not so good Doc. I mean, I got that big pay per view comin' up, but everything else sucks. I got chased by some fellow black guys for no reason. Madison had a priest sprinkle some funny water on me. And Seth Feder keeps tryin' to turn me gay by makin' me think of his veiny, meaty cock all the time.

Oh my, it sounds like quite a bit has happened to you since our last session. How's your thinking? Have you been feeling any smarter?

Ehhhh, I dunno. Maybe?

It's clear by Engy's evasive responses that something is going unsaid. The doctor looks at Engy over the edge of his spectacles, drinking in his nonverbal signals.

Hmmmm. Well, the medication I've been giving you should have been having some sort of effect on you by now. Are you sure that there isn't something bothering you that could be getting in the way of you giving me an honest assessment of your abilities?

Doc, that sentence was like 6 or 7 words too long.

Dr. Bennie chuckles.

Ok, maybe we're not there yet. But let me say this. I've been thinking a lot about what you said in our last session. And I've been watching all your promo's online.

You have?!

Yes, I have. And there is one thing that strikes me. Engy, what do you think all this business about thinking your a black man, and confusing your history with a TV show, and worrying about your sexuality....what do you think all that has in common?

Engy sits up abruptly.

But I am a black man and my life is NOT a TV show! AND I'M NOT GAY!

Relax my friend, relax. I'm trying to help you. But, if you had to take a guess, what do those concepts have in common?

How the fuck should I know, you're the brain science guy.

The doc sits back in his chair, putting his red and blue shades in his lap.

Okay then, Ill tell you what I think. I think the thing that all those things have in common are that they cut to the most very basic aspects of your identity. Who you are. Where you come from. What makes you YOU. And I think you want the world to be just as confused as you are about who and what the Engineer is.

The doctor leans forward, and as he does so the shadowing on his face hits a different angle. It serves the unusual purpose of making him look like someone or something else, altering his countenance just enough to make him eerily unfamiliar. Engy leans away from the doc in response, as even he can sense the subtle tonal shift in the room.

But let's be honest Engy, your not as confused as you'd like us all to believe. You see, I'm very familiar with what the experimental medicine I gave you can do. Consequently, I know that some of the damage to your brain has already started rectifying itself. So I think you are improving. I think your memory is coming back. And I think all this identity confusion is just your way of trying to avoid the truth. My only question is why? What in there is so horrible that even a man as fearsome as you is afraid to confront it?

The doc lets the question hang in the air a moment. Engy gets to his feet and dusts himself off.

You know what doc, your right. My brain's better now. So I think we're done. Check's in the mail....bye bye!

Engy starts to head for the door.

Sit.

The word, though not spoken harshly, seems to reverberate with authority. The doctor gestures towards the couch. Engy turns back towards it, and inexplicably sits back down.

How....how did you do that....?

I asked politely.

Yeah, but....

Nevermind that. We need to get down to brass tacks. We're at a critical juncture in your therapy, and if we don't strike while the iron is hot all of this could be for nothing.

You mean I gotta talk about hard things?

Yes, the HARDEST things.

Engy whines pitifully, kicking his feet out like a small child.

Please now, none of that. Getting better takes hard work. It's a challenge, no doubt about it. But it's the only way your going to progress and become a better Engy.

Engy fiddles with the hem of his shirt, looking down and avoiding the doctor's gaze.

But what if the bad stuff I remember is really, REALLY bad?

I assure you, any secrets you may have are safe with me. Now please, lay back down, close your eyes and let the memories come to you. It may be scary, but try not to fight them.

Engy shoots the doc a hesitant glance, but then finally complies. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. And slowly, the memories start to creep in. And creep is the most appropriate word. They pry open the windows of his mind, slinking into the house like a knife in the night. Insidious. Merciless. Terrifying.

Engy is sitting on a frayed carpet in the center of a room. It's twilight indoors, the function of a sole dying light bulb. A woman is laying on the couch to his left. The needle is still in her arm. She's wearing a stained bathrobe, and she's naked underneath. Her legs are spread, and beyond her thighs lies the forbidden paradise he had only been able to sneak peeks of in the dirty magazines at the corner store. But the oddest thing about her is her face. It's just a black hole. There's nothing there.

Engy squirms on the couch.

Let it come my boy, let it come.

He knows he shouldn't look at the space between her legs. It's naughty and wrong, but it makes his insides feel funny and it makes his peepee feel good. He steals a peek.

But the monster sees him do it. He turns towards the monster, moving fast with a jaunty sort of hitch to it's walk. It seems to vibrate as it moves, never fully in the moment but in all moments. A beast beyond understanding in a yellowing wife beater t-shirt and blue jeans. His head is a hole too. But nonetheless we can hear him ranting.

YoU siCk sImPLe liTTle fUcK!!

He tries to run. He always tries to run but the beast always catches him. This time he grabs his ankle, twisting and pulling him back towards him. He begs him. He always begs and it never works.

YoUr worThLeSS! You liKe wHat'S iN thErE?! HuH? Be BETTeR iF YoU wEnt bAcK insIde!

Engy sits up, hyperventilating.

You know what Doc! I changed my mind! I'm an alien baby! I came from a dying planet and now I'm on Earth and I'm here to save people and make them happy!

Your not a superhero Engy.

But I can be! I can be anything I want. Just not this, ok? Just not this....

SO GO BACK in!!

The monster is too strong. Too, too strong. It grabs him by the head and forces his face under the woman's robe. Past the thighs. Into paradise.

Please Doc, Superman! I'll be Superman! Just let, just let....

You are NOT Superman. Tell me what you see! Quickly!

Engy kneels on the couch, his lips quivering and cheek ticcing. But it's too late now. The nightmares are in the house. They're in the house and creeping up the stairs and their knives are catching the moonlight, the light getting sucked into the nothing faces of the assassins.

He's in a bath tub now. The faucet is breaking off into flakes of rust. It's not in a bathroom though. It's in the middle of a large room, surrounded by people in scary robes. The woman and the monster are there, they are still wearing their nothing faces but somehow he knows it's them. The rest of the people don't have nothing faces. Just hoods with a weird symbol on them, like two bent triangles, one right side up and the other upside down, with a little star in the middle. “Thelema” the robed people say. “Thelema and The Book of Law”. It doesn't make any sense, which just makes it that much scarier. He covers his ears to drown out the strange words, the bad words, the nonsense words. Someone pries his hands from his ears and the strange words infect him again. “The Sword and the serpent.” “Thelema.” “Aiwass.” “Thelema.”

One of the robes brings a bucket over and starts dumping it's contents on him. Entrails, blood and viscera spill onto him. Getting in his eyes. His mouth. It's the first time he tastes blood.

“Thelema.” “Aiwass.” “Thelema.”

Engy, tell me what you see!

I'm blasting off from Krypton, doc! My parents love me so much that they gave their lives to make sure I'm safe! Isn't that nice?

TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE!

THELEMA. AIWASS. THELEMA.

NO! FUCK NO!

Engy rises to his feet, toppling over a standing lamp as he does so. He's gasping for breaths now, chest heaving with barely repressed panic.

Why can't I just be a superhero, huh? Why not? It's better that way. Easier. Please, please, just let me be Superman.....please....?

He's pleading now, black ashy tears rolling down his face. It strikes the doctor, in this moment, just how vulnerable he is. How childlike. Begging him to cling to a fantasy, to anything really, anything other than the wide awake terror that is his real life. The doctor, in a rare moment of humanity, finds himself overcome. He cannot speak. And then, Engy rushes for the door.

Wait! Don't go!

The doctor follows him into the hallway, but Engy is deceptively fast, he's already down the first flight of stairs. The doctor curses and pulls out his cellphone. He makes a call.

Yeah, yeah, it's me. He's starting to remember, but it's worse than I anticipated. I think it's in there, but he can't handle it yet. We need to activate the fail safe. Now.

36 Hours Later....

So, with that, we return to a man who is, quite literally, standing on the precipice of his own oblivion. Or, sitting on it at least. Engy's legs hang over the edge of the building, as police and emergency medical personnel down below prepare for the worst.

And there ya have it folks. The final nail in the coffin of my shitty life. Turns out the doc was right. All the dumb shit I say and do about myself is just a smokescreen for unspeakable horror. Fuckin' figures. So, toodles I guess....

Engy starts to get to his feet, when someone from down below booms out through a megaphone.

Mr Engineer, sir. I have someone down here who says that they're a friend of yours, and they'd like to speak with you!

Madison grabs hold of the megaphone, clearly looking annoyed.

GET DOWN HERE YOU TIT!

The police around her look horrified. The negotiator makes a neck slashing motion and frantically shakes his head “no”. Madison turns to him.

Chillax, I know what I'm doing.

I don't wanna come down, Madison! I wanna DIE. Which I guess means I DO wanna come down. But quickly. And die at the end.

WE DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR THIS. THE JET IS PREPPED AND READY, BUT ENGLAND IS FAR, FAR AWAY SO WE NEED TO LEAVE!

No! I don't wanna!

Madison pinches the bridge of her nose with exasperation.

FINE! KILL YOURSELF THEN! KILL YOURSELF AND LEAVE ALL THAT UNTAPPED POTENTIAL SPLATTERED ALL OVER THE FUCKING PAVEMENT!

Ma'am, I think....

The negotiator moves to take the megaphone from her, but she palms his face and shoves him away. From out of nowhere, her cadre of secret service agents form a perimeter around her.

Yeah, that's right. I outrank you bitches. Try it.

And again, into the megaphone.

YOU KNOW WHAT ENGY, I DON'T GIVE A FUCK WHAT DR. BENNIE MADE YOU SEE. I DON'T GIVE A FUCK HOW FUCKED UP YOUR LIFE HAS BEEN OR WHAT KIND OF SHIT YOU'VE BEEN THROUGH. ALL I KNOW IS THAT FOR ALL YOUR FAULTS YOU ARE NOT A PUSSY! CHRIST, I LITERALLY SAW YOU PULL OUT A MAN'S EYE AND SHIT IN THE SOCKET. YOU ARE A CRAZY MOTHERFUCKER! YOU CAN OVERCOME THIS. YOU CAN OVERCOME THIS AND BE A KING!

Yeah, but even if I'm a king my life is still a huge flamin' trainwreck! Nothin' will change that!

AND YOU KNOW WHAT, YOU'RE RIGHT. THE PAST CAN'T BE ALTERED. IT WILL ALWAYS BE A TRAINWRECK. HELL, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE A TRAINWRECK. BUT YOU CAN EITHER BE A TRAINWRECK WHO CRASHES ALONE OR CRASHES WITH TONS OF SCREAMING PASSENGERS ABOARD. AND RIGHT NOW, THOSE SCREAMING PASSENGERS ARE TRAX, PANZER, AND FEDDER. AND **SQUONK**

The megaphone shorts out and she tosses it to the side. She cups her hands around her mouth and shouts up to him.

And I got news for you. None of those guys deserve to be King of the Ring more than you! I mean, look at them! Trax is a D-list comic book super-villain, Panzer is a living, breathing Aristocrats joke minus the humor, and Fedder is an entitled pretty boy coasting on nepotism and legacy, who thus far can barely be arsed to even spare a word for his opponents. Whereas you have suffered through a lifetime of verbal, mental, and physical assaults, biting, clawing and scraping towards this very moment. This very DREAM!

You have earned this Engy! THIS IS YOURS! And as your manager....as your...

Madison stops a bit and swallows deep, mentally preparing herself for what is about to spill out of her mouth.

....as your FRIEND, Engy....I refuse to let you throw this away.

The shot returns to the roof. Engy is sitting on the ledge still. He wipes away a tear with the palm of his hand, and then he turns towards the camera.

Is she right? Is this mine? Can I be better than all this bad shit?

He looks way, way down below, considering his death.

Maybe she's right. Maybe I have earned this more than Panzer and Trax and Fedder. I mean, what do these other guys bring to the table that 'ol Engy don't? What right do they got to this that I don't?!

Okay, fine, maybe my life fuckin' sucks. But that's all the more edge I got over these other schmucks. Panzer's a supposed demi-God so his whole life's been easy street. Fedder got HANDED his fuckin' shot by Vinnie. And Trax, the only other guy who mighta had a tough life, is now a Marvel movie villain whose head is more up his own ass than in the game.

God damnit, I have NOT lived through bum fights, and starvation, and bein' homeless, and ritual cult abuse, and bein' a truck stop man whore just to get beat by these lowly FUCKS.

Engy shakes his head.

The truck stop man whore thing DID happen. But I didn't mean to say it. Shit.

He pounds his fist on the brick beside him.

FUCK IT. I'm stronger than this! I'm gonna win this shit! I'm gonna be KING OF THE FUCKIN' LOSERS BABY!

Engy shoots to his feet, pumping his fists triumphantly in the air.

YOU HEAR THAT WORLD?! KING OF THE FUCKIN' LOSERS BABAAAYYWHOAAAAAAAAAA

Engy starts to slip on the ledge, thrown off balance by his own celebration! The crowd down below gasps in horror and maybe a little bit of sexual arousal. Madison screeches! The cops avert their eyes. OH GOD HE'S GOING OVER!

Except he doesn't. At the last second, a hand catches his. Engy turns to see his savior, and a heavenly glow surrounds the beautiful woman who has quite literally saved his soul. He marvels at her, at her radiance. His mouth goes slack. And so taken is he that he doesn't even realize he's still dangerously close to doom.

Down below, the throngs wait with baited breath for a fatality that does not happen. Madison slowly pulls her hands from her mouth, as it dawns on her that Engy still hasn't fallen.

Wha....what happened? Is he ok?

Engy and this beautiful woman, hands still grasped against infinity, seem locked in time. Finally she squeezes Engy's hand, awakening him from the trance and prompting him to step down from the ledge. It takes him a bit to steel himself to speak with this angel. But finally, he does.

Who are you?

The woman smiles, and it's like the combined brilliance of a thousand suns.

[Image: tomi-lahren-obamacare.jpg]

My name is Tomi Lahren. I love you Engy. And I want to touch your penis for free.

Engy blinks stupidly, once, twice, three times.

Sweet.

[End!]]]> <![CDATA[The Quest For Peace - Dead Man's Chest]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28973 Fri, 18 Aug 2017 18:19:46 -0700 Theo Pryce]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28973 [Image: kRasYJQ.jpg]

With the help of Doctor Louis D'Ville, Theo has finally figured out who has been tracking him for the last few weeks and why. Unfortunately the news is not good and so Theo has called upon the one man that can truly get him out of the mess that John Madison has made.

King Of The Ring is tomorrow and as such this matter needs to come to a close now so that Theo can finally focus on what matters most, defending the tag team titles with Doctor D'Ville

EPISODE VI - The Quest For Peace - Dead Man's Chest

The White House - Present Day

"Good morning Vlady baby it's your friend Donald J. Trump."

Seated behind the Resolute desk is Donald J. Trump, President of the United States. The desk is remarkably well kept as the only things currently on it are a telephone, a pen and Trump's shoes. The President leans back in his chair, his tie loosened and the top button of his shirt undone.

"Vat do you vat Donald?"

"Well Vlady baby..."

"I told you before, stop calling me zat. It is President Putin, or Vladimir. Only ven ve are together may you call me Vlady baby. Understood?"

"Yes. Anywho, we have a bit a problem. A yuge problem."

"Did your numbers tank again?"

"Yes but that's not what this is about. I understand you sent a Russian agent to kill a very dear dear friend of mine by the name of Theo Pryce."

"I know nothing of vhat you are speaking."

"Ok ok I picked up what you're putting down. Anyway the guy you sent to kill my friend, well he tried treating my friend very very unfairly and that didn't work out so well for him. My friend, he's one of the few people here that still likes me. I can't let you kill him I just can't. What if I sent you Donald Junior instead? He's been a real pain in my ass lately. Or O'Bannon. You can have them both."

"This man you speak of, the one you believe to be Russian, he is still alive yes?"

"That's what I said yes and you know me I'm like George Washington, I never tell a lie."

"I don't mean to lecture you on your history but I believe it vas Abraham Lincoln who said that."

"No silly goose. Abraham Lincoln carried the big stick. Anywho do we have an accord?"

"Da."

"Excellent. Excellent my friend. Hey did you get the fruit basket I sent you? It has the very best fruit we could find. It even included grapes from my vineyard and winery in Charlottsville. Well actually it's my son Eric's. I bought it years back and then gave it to him but I still run it because Eric's...how do I say this nicely? He's a bit...well frankly, he's

. I have a

son. God it feels so good to get that off my chest. I'm sure you know what that feels like though Vlad."

"No actually. Ve kill

babies in vomb."

"Really? That sounds wonderful. We should do that here but my party would never allow it. I could sell it to my base for sure. Sell the purity angle but the other Republicans, they would never go for it."

"Da."

"Did you know I had secret cameras installed in my daughters office here at the White House so I could watch her change?"

"Vhy are you telling me dis Donald? Do you even know vhat it is you are saying?"

"Not usually."

"I must go now Donald. Have good day."

"Ok friend. See you soon."

"Hey Dad."

The camera pans up to reveal Jared Kushner, Donald's special adviser and son in law standing there.

"What have I told you before? You can't call me Dad in here. It's father or Fuhrer."

"I can't call you Fuhrer, Dad. I'm a Jew, that would be very bad for me."

"Shhhh don't say that too loud. I can't risk that leaking to my base. Anyway what do you want? I'm a very very busy man Jared as you know. Way busier than you."

"What was that you said about secret cameras?"

"What? What? I didn't say anything about secret cameras. Anyway gotta go Jared. See you at dinner.

President Trump picks up his favorite tweeting device, a black Samsung S8 and then hightails it out of his office like someone had just asked him about his tax returns.

Undisclosed Location

"Thanks Donald. Appreciate that. I'll throw a few dollars into your favorite charity just shot me an email with which one you want. I owe you one Donald."

Theo ends the call, places his phone in his pocket and then walks over towards Doctor D'Ville who for the last few minutes had been staring at Yuri Kozlov the FSB agent sent by President Putin to kill Theo.

"Everything ok my friend?"

"Yes they are. This minor inconvenience is now over and I can finally turn all my attention and energy towards our match at King of the Ring.

Which by the way Doc, do you ever get the feeling that you are talking to a wall when you address our upcoming opponents?"

"I get that feeling a lot honestly, but with Scully and Guppy it certainly seems like they really can't grasp even the faintest strand of reality."

"I guess that's to be expected from a guy who dresses up in a Batman costume and a mental midget but Jesus H. Christ this is painful.

I just said only a few days ago that no one wanted a history lesson this week and what does Scully do first chance he gets?

A history lesson.

It's a good thing this guy self identifies as a

because if he didn't I'd be extremely tempted to call him one myself. And as much as I would like to say that that was the low point of Scully's most recent edition of "How to suck at 50% of my job" it wasn't.

Not.Even.Close.

You see after Scully finally decided that enough was enough and it was time for a change he launched into what can only be described as the rantings of a man losing grip with reality when he then thought it would be a good idea to start singing songs. So many songs. And if you were paying attention you could actually pinpoint the exact moment where Scully's pal Alfie had officially given up on life and was hoping that his best friend and probably his only friend would drive straight into oncoming traffic but alas Scully couldn't even manage to do that right for he is Scully, Champion of the

and a failure at damn near everything he does.

Case in point Scully's idea of having a good time with his son is playing with barbie dolls. Now hear me out, I am not some conservative cuck that believes that boys need to play with trucks and GI Joes and girls have to play with Barbies. It's not like that at all. What I mean is, if your time is limited with your kid because the woman you somehow talked into accepting your seed finally woke up and realized what she was married to and bolted then you should be out doing something that makes your ex jealous. Things that make her look like the lesser of the two parents. Not sitting inside playing with dolls.

Take your kid out to the park or the mall, go buy him his favorite toy, even if it's a barbie doll. Especially if it's a Barbie doll and then teach your son all about the birds and the bees with said Barbie doll. Actually, don't do that. Scratch that. Despite the fact that Scully does have offspring, as far as we know, his son is infinitely better off learning about the Birds and the Bees from someone who doesn't need to take a pill to not be

.

If there was any chance, any chance at all that Scully's kid wasn't going to grow up and be a world class screw up like his father it went out the window the moment Scully decided it would be a good idea to put on his own little production of "Guys and Dolls" with his kid there.

I actually feel bad for Scully's kid. I really do. He didn't choose his parents. None of this is his fault but needless to say this poor kid is destined for a life of misery. If Scully had any compassion at all he would drop that kid off at the nearest hospital and never look back.

"Indeed my friend. However I do have a question unrelated to that. What do we do with our friend here?"

Ending A - The "Boring" Ending

"We release him. President Trump is going to have a jet waiting at the Reno-Tahoe International Airport to take him home. In return the bounty on my head is removed."

"I suppose there is nothing I can do to change your mind?"

"Well Doc I enjoy being alive and I'd like to keep doing that for the foreseeable future so unless whatever you have to say can guarantee me whatever powers it is that allows you to be ageless then I think I'll just stick with the sure thing."

"Nothing in life is a sure thing Mr. Pryce."

"You're right Doc, you are absolutely right. But for now, this is the best I got."

Theo walks over to a metal table situated a few feet from the bound Russian. Theo grabs a glass of water and tosses it into the face of the Russian, startling him enough to wake him up. The man slowly lifts his head and looks right at Theo.

"So here's the deal Yuri. Your President and mine have made an arrangement. I am going to release you now. A car will take you to the airport where a Private Jet will be waiting to take you back to Moscow. Essentially your freedom for mine. Nod if you understand."

The man slowly nods his head at which point Theo reaches onto the table and grabs a box cutter which he then uses to cut the zip ties that were keeping the man bound to the chair. With the box cutter still in his hand Theo takes a few steps back and allows the man to slowly stand for the first time in several days.

"There are a change of clothes over there on the table and there is a shower down the hall. I will take you to it. When you are dressed and ready to go I will take you to the car. Understood?"

"Da."

"Good. Now go and take a shower. You smell rancid."

The Russian walks over towards the table, grabs the change of clothes off of it and then walks out of the room and down the hall towards the shower as the scene fades to black.

Fin.

"Indeed my friend. However I do have a question unrelated to that. What do we do with our friend here?"

Ending B - The "America First" Ending

"Well technically we are supposed to release him per the agreement that our President and his came up with but I seriously doubt Putin gives half a shit about this guy. At the end of the day he now knows that I am untouchable so long as Trump is the President. So if you have some suggestions I am happy to hear them."

"As a matter of fact I do."

"Well I'm all ears. Let's hear it."

"Well my friend. Mental manipulation is sort of my thing. What if we were to flip the script so to speak?"

"You have my attention."

"Well this man was sent to kill you by Vladimir Putin, so what if we send him back to Russia with the sole purpose of killing the President of Russia, or die trying?

Theo takes a step back somewhat stunned at the Doc's suggestion.

"Wait a second...you can do that sort of thing? Like hypnotism?"

"I prefer to think of it as mental manipulation but yes they are essentially one in the same. I can implant a suggestion into this man's mind so that when he wakes up he will be consumed with the desire to kill President Putin or die in the act. He will think about nothing else except fulfilling his mission."

"Fuck it. Do it. Let me know when it's done. In the meantime I'm going to step out and arrange for a change of clothes and a car to take him to the airport."

"Very good."

Theo walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him as the scene fades to black.

Fin.

"Indeed my friend. However I do have a question unrelated to that. What do we do with our friend here?"

Ending C - The "This Is Probably What Really Happened" Ending

"Well President Trump and President Putin essentially worked out a prisoner exchange if you will. His life for mine."

"So that's it then? We just untie him and send him on his way back to the Red State."

"Essentially yes."

"If you don't mind me asking, what stops Putin from sending someone else?"

"Well I think he now knows that as long as Trump is running the show over here he can't touch me."

"And when that eventually comes to an end as all good things do? What then?"

"Hopefully by that point Putin will have set his sights on something else."

"Very well then."

"Doc you've been a huge help. Truly, without you I would probably still be trying to figure out who this guy is and what he's after. Thank you."

"You are welcome my friend."

Theo walks over to a small metal table a few feet from the bound Russian man. He grabs a small box cutter off the table and with it cuts the zip ties affixed to the mans ankles and arms. Theo then reaches back on the table with his left hand, the box cutter still in his right and with his left hand he grabs a glass of water and tosses it at the Russian man, waking him up from his pain induced slumber.

"I've untied you. You are free to go. Walk out that door, go left and walk straight until you reach another door. Walk through it and you will be outside. A black sedan will arrive to take you to the airport. From there a plane will take you home. Your business with me is done. You can talk to your President about it when you get back to Moscow."

The Russian man shakes his head a few times trying to remove as much water from his face as possible. He then stands up and looks directly at Theo Pryce but says nothing.

BANG!!!

The unmistakable sound of a gun shot rings out as a massive red hole appears in the Russian man's chest. Blood and pulverized organs shoot out in several directions including but not limited to Theo's face as the Russian man flies backwards into the wall, dead.

Startled by what just transpired Theo just stands there and looks down at the dead man.

"Good riddance. Fucking commie cocksucker." John Madison says from the doorway of the room, smoke still emanating from the end of the shotgun he is holding in his right hand.

"What did you just do?" D'Ville yells as he reaches out and yanks the gun from Madison's hand.

"What kind of

question is that? Pretty sure I just killed that Stalin loving mother fucker but hey you're the Doctor. Why don't you go over there and see if he still has a pulse." Madison laughs, the only person in the room amused at his comments.

"You fucking idiot. Do you have any idea what you've done?" Theo says as he tries to clean some of the blood off of his face.

"Am I speaking in Russian or something? I'm pretty sure I just said..."

"Fuck what you said. You just killed a guy whose life was being exchanged for my own. Which by the way, was only in jeopardy because of you in the first fucking place."

"Well why didn't you say something then Theo?"

"Because I didn't think I needed to. Because last time I checked you were upstairs in a bed recovering from a gunshot wound. Because Luca is supposed to be upstairs watching you."

"Well that's what you get for putting a coke head in charge of anything. Lesson learned. So what do we do about the body? Wanna bury him in the desert? Or put him in a container of acid? Maybe we can chop him up into a bunch of pieces and spread them out all over the state?"

"FUCK!!!" Theo screams as he just walks out of the room and completely out of the camera's view.

"What's up his ass?"

"Unbelievable." D'Viille responds as he too walks out of the room leaving Madison with the dead Russian.

Fin.

-End Credits-

John Madison
Doctor Louis D'Ville

Special Appearances by:

Donald Trump
Jared Kushner
Vladimir Putin

And

Theo Pryce

]]>

EPISODE VI - The Quest For Peace - Dead Man's Chest

The White House - Present Day

. I have a

son. God it feels so good to get that off my chest. I'm sure you know what that feels like though Vlad."

"No actually. Ve kill

Undisclosed Location

Ending A - The "Boring" Ending

Ending B - The "America First" Ending

Ending C - The "This Is Probably What Really Happened" Ending

-End Credits-

John Madison
Doctor Louis D'Ville

Special Appearances by:

Donald Trump
Jared Kushner
Vladimir Putin

And

Theo Pryce

]]> <![CDATA[The Confrontation With A Mind Control Specialist in a Shopping Mall]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=29008 Fri, 18 Aug 2017 15:53:42 -0700 Prof. Bobby Bourbon]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=29008

Robbie Bourbon has narrowed down the location of the mysterious 'Marco' to a shopping mall in Charlottesville shortly after mowing down a brigade of SS troops in historic downtown Charlottesville. The nazi threat seemingly under control at the hands of himself and his fellow Motherfuckers, Robbie can now focus on his main objectives.

The second being indeed using Chris Chaos as a punching bag. Isn't like Robbie's hitting anybody or anything else for a full hour at King of the Ring.

THE CONFRONTATION WITH A MIND CONTROL SPECIALIST IN A SHOPPING MALL.

War-torn Charlottesville. We see a police officer speaking with Robbie Bourbon and Blue, Robbie's girlfriend and handler, near the scene of a downed messerschmidt as flack flies through the skies, trying to deter Allied bombers. Robbie is looking intently at the officer.

Look, I can't give you my cruiser.

I have this ID though...

I need it. There's all sorts of shit happening.

Well, I need a car.

The cop rubs his chin. Robbie snaps his fingers as his eyes go wide.

Don't you have a silver Dodge Challenger in impound?

The cop looks at Robbie.

...yeah.

I'll buy it for seven thousand dollars.

I can't...

Call someone who can.

The officer walks back to his cruiser and sits inside, getting on his radio.

How did you know a silver Challenger was in impound?

The news. Look, that parade float was a piece of garbage. Fun, but really uneccessary for this manner of crime fighting hyjinx. I need something a little faster, something that'd get me to Charlottesville before the blitzkrieg swept through.

Robbie pulls a device from his pocket and walks up to a panzer sitting in a field, it's crew inside taking a nap in the air conditioned war machine. Robbie sticks the device to it, which beeps and shows a red light blinking, looking just like a timed mine from Goldeneye007 for the N64. As Robbie walks away, a massive explosion is seen behind him, destroying the enemy tank and the SS rabble inside. The officer walks back up to him, giving him a high five for taking out the tank for him.

Okay, look, we'll sell it for ten thou. Take it or leave it.

Blue looks up from her phone, watching a video from the past week in Charlottesville.

You mean this guy isn't getting his car back?

Nope. We just totalled it. No insurance company will cover it without repairs.

I got it.

Robbie reaches in his pocket and pulls out a multitool. He's wearing cargo pants, lots of pockets, and a black tank top along with his mask. Very action figury looking.

A montage starts to show Robbie arriving at the impound lot, then seeing a silver Dodge Challenger with a destroyed front bumper, then finding a huge toolshed with the aide of a friendly looking impound lot worker pointing in the right direction and smiling, being all fatherly or like a swell uncle that never molested you, even though you were cute enough for it. There's a shot of Robbie lighting a butane torch. There's a shot of Robbie under the car on a dolly, his legs sticking out as he pulls pieces of someone's hip bone out of the radiator. The montage finishes as we see the vehicle now looks like the Challenger from Mad Max. The clock shows this took mere moments as Robbie is in a hurry to confront a mind control specialist and all.

Robbie hops into the vehicle and tears off for the mall.

Hehehehe.

A video display opens in the center console of the car, just like Batman or Austin Powers or James Bond would have. We see the the computer animated face of Einstein as drawn and animated by students in the mid nineties.

Vhy are you laughing?

The thick Austrian accent imposed on the poorly animated, brightly colored thing on the screen is spot on.

Well, Chris is going to piss and moan forever about how I didn't mention him in this part of the promo.

Vhat promo?

Well, I just got a new car, and you're a bad ass. I even went Knight Rider with that shit because I thought it was a good idea. Things are getting crazy around here and that just means the cameras are starting to roll. You'll figure it out, bud.

Ah. I shee.

Cool. Did you actually used to go to the bathroom in your pants as an adult on the regular?

Vhat? I vas created a few minutes ago in zat garage! I don't even undershtand mine purpose here!

Oh, right, you're not that Einstein. So, you're here to be my fucking awesome vehicle. I needed a new whip. One that won't get stolen.

I'm an antitheft device?

Well, sorta, yeah. You can defend yourself independently of me.

Vhat?

You're an artificial intelligence, yeah?

Ya.

So you can learn to drive this car. I'll give you lessons later, right now just watch what we do.

You're going to fast! Zat sign said you need to go fourty-five miles an hour.

The car starts to slow. Robbie rolls his eyes and presses a blue button by the monitor. The vehicle picks up more speed.

Okay, so you don't get control of the car yet.

Ach, you've put in an override!

That's right. Now, just monitor behaviors, prepare to record happenings at the mall.

Okie dokie!

Robbie peels into the empty Charlottesville Mall parking lot and stops the car in a cool spin out 180, right in front of the main door. Robbie hops from the car and runs in.

Vhat do you vant me to do?

Stay in park.

Robbie runs into the mall and sees corpses strewn about the floor. Somewhere inside the mall, deeper, we can tell Technotronic is playing as Pump Up The Jam echoes from somewhere, the rest of the mall still, and lifeless. Robbie's face goes grim as he sees the death, and hears the early nineties dance hit that he kind of likes but doesn't want to look like it's making the mood any better. Robbie glances towards a Sears, and sees inside a large grouping of people, hiding, one waving towards Robbie. Robbie waves back, and motions his hand downward.

"Good to see not everybody died. What happened here?" Robbie crouches and duckwalks his way towards Sears. He approaches the person who waved at him, and counts around fifteen others hiding here. "Several more pockets may be throughout the mall. I should speak with them if I see them." Robbie nods as the person jaws at him, inaudible since we're stuck in Robbie's head. "So, five men in their underwear started to run around with shotguns? There was a sixth, not in his underwear, but in a black cloak, his head covered?" We exit the mind of Robbie Bourbon.

Wait, this person was completely unidentifiable?

"Yes sir, completely shrouded."

That bastard! Staying mysterious still!

"I know! So, you gotta go deal with him or something so we can get out of here."

Where is he?

"He's in the middle of the mall. Check the map over there."

Robbie stands up, thanks the person, and turns. "The map? Weird." Robbie walks over to the map and checks it. There's actually a marker with his monicker on it, and his eyes go wide. "Someone is calling me out. About time, too. Chris Chaos has done a piss poor job of it so far. That dehydrated and spent sack of shit needs some kind of refresher. Maybe he could be the chicken man or something, I don't know. Chicken Suckin' Chris Chaos. Every match, you could slurp down a bucket of Bojangles, Popeyes, AND Kentucky Fried Chicken straight off the bone, appeal to some fetish demographic." Robbie starts to walk towards the center of the mall. "I mean, this mind control guy is way more complicated than you are. I have no idea how to fight a mind control guy. Never done it before. You, Chris, you I could do this with forever. I've fought you twice so far. I obviously cheated you of a victory before, just like you've been cheated out of everything ever since, boo fucking hoo. Cry, piss, and moan about it, do nothing really though. Piss and moan about what I said, what I could have said, blah blah blah. Actions speak louder than words, and Chris Chaos gets as much action as Chris Christie's treadmill. How do you let a urethra collect dust like that? Hey, that's a great gimmick shift, a way to get some headway, avoid that lame name of yours once and for all, be Chris Christie. It's bound to be more interesting than another round of 'holy crap I was cheated' followed by the awkward silence of an insecure man who backpeddles over his own words and can deliver defense mechanism after defense mechanism after defense mechanism, until he's cycled through and shown all of them." Robbie glances at a turn in the mall and listens for whatever muffled music was being played, walking in that direction. "I've read you like a book, Chris. There's no surprising anybody since you've shown us all your tricks already. I don't have to wonder what's going to happen in the ring. It's Chaos, getting repetitive in the ring over sixty minutes, telegraphing the same crappy three moves you get by in your matches, getting peppered with so many different Robbiebomb variations you'll lose count after two. Possibly due to dislodgement of a vertebrae. See, I have a very founded notion of what I'm saying when I say your body will go through hell. Can you count the Robbiebombs, Chris? How many there are? Nope. You're busy with a thumb up your ass wiping a tear from your eye about how Christmas came and went without it's Universal choo-choo and you felt all alone. You won't rewatch what happened to your body, the trauma of a spinal column hitting the floor at the constant of gravity plus whatever oomph I get behind it. Fuck me, whatever oomph I get behind it is the chaotic variable, because lots of different Robbiebombs carry lots of different oomph!" Robbie stops as we leave his head, hearing Move This by Technotronic. Someone is a fan. The camera pivots to show a cloaked figure sitting in the middle of the mall in a comfy looking lounger. Beside them are five men in their underwear and wearing local sherrif hats, dancing with shotguns.

Enough! This twisted mind control game you're playing ends now, 'Marco'.

Marco stands and looks at Robbie. The five men charge him, swinging their shotguns like clubs at him, muttering the words 'spill the beans' a lot. Robbie kicks the first in the gut with such force the other four guys stop and stare, then hoists the man with the shotgun up for a Crucifix Robbiebomb! He levels two other men with the first as all four crash to the ground, knocked silly! Robbie turns an bashes both the remaining underwear clad shotgunner heads together, then grabs one and lifts him into a reverse fireman's carry! He spins out and delivers a Heliolux Sitout Robbiebomb! The last guy hits Robbie over the crown of his mask with his shot gun. Robbie stands up from the sit out while getting peppered with shots from the shotgun club. Robbie blocks one of the shotgun blows and grabs the attacker by the throat! He scoops under the guy's leg! ELEVATED CHOKE ROBBIEBOMB! There's one for the connoisseurs. The bad guys thoroughly Robbiebombed, Robbie turns back to 'Marco'. Marco raises his hand at Robbie, then points at a platter of donuts. Robbie is immediately enthralled by them.

"Holy shit, I'm fucking famished!" Robbie marches gleefully towards the donuts. "Welp, time to munch." Robbie downs a donut. "Mmmmm. Fucking greatness. Fried bread with sugar." Robbie picks up a second donut and pats his belly. "Mmm, mmm, mmm, this chocolate frosted with whipped cream one is delightful." Robbie's eyes go wide as he stares at the donut. "Wait, I get bavarian cream!" Robbie throws the donut to the ground and stares down the cloaked figure.

That won't work on me, I hate whipped cream filled donuts! Fucking nasty.

The cloaked figure turns and tries to run from the couch they stood on, but trips over their dramatic cloak and falls to the ground. Robbie runs up and pounces on the downed figure like an offensive lineman trying to recover a fumble. He throws back the cloak and we see a girl, youthful and bright eyed, her hair a matted mess of bright fiery red. She looks at Bourbon with disgust.

Who are you?

Hah, hehehehehehe.

She laughs in the face of Robbie who looks quizzically at her.

Oh, shit, sorry. You can call me Strawberry Fields.

Cute.

I know.

What the fuck is going on?

Well, it looks like I got your attention, hehe.

Is that what you wanted?

I wanted to let Charlottesville get good and hot before you could do anything to stop it.

You what?

See, I wanted a LOT of nazis to get wrecked, so I got the best wrecker in the world to come to Charlottesville to wreck them. If you came earlier you would have brought the peace, maybe settled the problems before they occured.

I could have saved someone's life.

What are a few lives anyway in the bigger picture? You would have stopped one nazi, tops, if I hadn't intervened.

But all those people in DC, those men you warped the minds of and abused, you tortured those veterans into doing horrible things...

They were needed parts for the cause. To catch a big fish, one must use big bait.

Strawberry Fields, the deranged mentalist and mind manipulator, reaches up and hugs Robbie.

Now I get to be a Bourbon Man! Or Person! I wanted to get you a way to wreck something.

Robbie rocks back onto his knees and away from the embrace of Strawberry Fields. He immediately flips her over and uses the sleeves of her overbig cloak to tie her arms behind her back as she screams at the top of her lungs.

"Scream all you want. Cry all you want. You need help, and you need to be locked up to get it." Robbie looks extremely pissed. "Can't fucking wreck you, no sir, no little girls blood is coming at my hands." Robbie starts to drag Strawberry Fields, kicking and screaming, through the mall towards the exit as we exit Robbie's mind.

The sounds of a screaming child bring a sense of normalcy back to the mall as people step out of shops here and there, now that the coast was clear. Robbie drags Strawberry Fields to the back of his souped up Challenger.

Open.

Inside is a harnessed seat instead of a regular trunk, and Robbie places Strawberry Fields into the seat, locking down her wrists and ankles.

Close.

The trunk closes and finally the screams are muffled. Robbie walks back to the front of the car and sits. The screen comes to life.

Zat bitch is hurting mine ears!

Let's get her to the police.]]>

Robbie Bourbon has narrowed down the location of the mysterious 'Marco' to a shopping mall in Charlottesville shortly after mowing down a brigade of SS troops in historic downtown Charlottesville. The nazi threat seemingly under control at the hands of himself and his fellow Motherfuckers, Robbie can now focus on his main objectives.

The second being indeed using Chris Chaos as a punching bag. Isn't like Robbie's hitting anybody or anything else for a full hour at King of the Ring.

THE CONFRONTATION WITH A MIND CONTROL SPECIALIST IN A SHOPPING MALL.

War-torn Charlottesville. We see a police officer speaking with Robbie Bourbon and Blue, Robbie's girlfriend and handler, near the scene of a downed messerschmidt as flack flies through the skies, trying to deter Allied bombers. Robbie is looking intently at the officer.

Look, I can't give you my cruiser.

I have this ID though...

I need it. There's all sorts of shit happening.

Well, I need a car.

The cop rubs his chin. Robbie snaps his fingers as his eyes go wide.

Don't you have a silver Dodge Challenger in impound?

The cop looks at Robbie.

...yeah.

I'll buy it for seven thousand dollars.

I can't...

Call someone who can.

The officer walks back to his cruiser and sits inside, getting on his radio.

How did you know a silver Challenger was in impound?

The news. Look, that parade float was a piece of garbage. Fun, but really uneccessary for this manner of crime fighting hyjinx. I need something a little faster, something that'd get me to Charlottesville before the blitzkrieg swept through.

Robbie pulls a device from his pocket and walks up to a panzer sitting in a field, it's crew inside taking a nap in the air conditioned war machine. Robbie sticks the device to it, which beeps and shows a red light blinking, looking just like a timed mine from Goldeneye007 for the N64. As Robbie walks away, a massive explosion is seen behind him, destroying the enemy tank and the SS rabble inside. The officer walks back up to him, giving him a high five for taking out the tank for him.

Okay, look, we'll sell it for ten thou. Take it or leave it.

Blue looks up from her phone, watching a video from the past week in Charlottesville.

You mean this guy isn't getting his car back?

Nope. We just totalled it. No insurance company will cover it without repairs.

I got it.

Robbie reaches in his pocket and pulls out a multitool. He's wearing cargo pants, lots of pockets, and a black tank top along with his mask. Very action figury looking.

A montage starts to show Robbie arriving at the impound lot, then seeing a silver Dodge Challenger with a destroyed front bumper, then finding a huge toolshed with the aide of a friendly looking impound lot worker pointing in the right direction and smiling, being all fatherly or like a swell uncle that never molested you, even though you were cute enough for it. There's a shot of Robbie lighting a butane torch. There's a shot of Robbie under the car on a dolly, his legs sticking out as he pulls pieces of someone's hip bone out of the radiator. The montage finishes as we see the vehicle now looks like the Challenger from Mad Max. The clock shows this took mere moments as Robbie is in a hurry to confront a mind control specialist and all.

Robbie hops into the vehicle and tears off for the mall.

Hehehehe.

A video display opens in the center console of the car, just like Batman or Austin Powers or James Bond would have. We see the the computer animated face of Einstein as drawn and animated by students in the mid nineties.

Vhy are you laughing?

The thick Austrian accent imposed on the poorly animated, brightly colored thing on the screen is spot on.

Well, Chris is going to piss and moan forever about how I didn't mention him in this part of the promo.

Vhat promo?

Well, I just got a new car, and you're a bad ass. I even went Knight Rider with that shit because I thought it was a good idea. Things are getting crazy around here and that just means the cameras are starting to roll. You'll figure it out, bud.

Ah. I shee.

Cool. Did you actually used to go to the bathroom in your pants as an adult on the regular?

Vhat? I vas created a few minutes ago in zat garage! I don't even undershtand mine purpose here!

Oh, right, you're not that Einstein. So, you're here to be my fucking awesome vehicle. I needed a new whip. One that won't get stolen.

I'm an antitheft device?

Well, sorta, yeah. You can defend yourself independently of me.

Vhat?

You're an artificial intelligence, yeah?

Ya.

So you can learn to drive this car. I'll give you lessons later, right now just watch what we do.

You're going to fast! Zat sign said you need to go fourty-five miles an hour.

The car starts to slow. Robbie rolls his eyes and presses a blue button by the monitor. The vehicle picks up more speed.

Okay, so you don't get control of the car yet.

Ach, you've put in an override!

That's right. Now, just monitor behaviors, prepare to record happenings at the mall.

Okie dokie!

Robbie peels into the empty Charlottesville Mall parking lot and stops the car in a cool spin out 180, right in front of the main door. Robbie hops from the car and runs in.

Vhat do you vant me to do?

Stay in park.

Robbie runs into the mall and sees corpses strewn about the floor. Somewhere inside the mall, deeper, we can tell Technotronic is playing as Pump Up The Jam echoes from somewhere, the rest of the mall still, and lifeless. Robbie's face goes grim as he sees the death, and hears the early nineties dance hit that he kind of likes but doesn't want to look like it's making the mood any better. Robbie glances towards a Sears, and sees inside a large grouping of people, hiding, one waving towards Robbie. Robbie waves back, and motions his hand downward.

"Good to see not everybody died. What happened here?" Robbie crouches and duckwalks his way towards Sears. He approaches the person who waved at him, and counts around fifteen others hiding here. "Several more pockets may be throughout the mall. I should speak with them if I see them." Robbie nods as the person jaws at him, inaudible since we're stuck in Robbie's head. "So, five men in their underwear started to run around with shotguns? There was a sixth, not in his underwear, but in a black cloak, his head covered?" We exit the mind of Robbie Bourbon.

Wait, this person was completely unidentifiable?

"Yes sir, completely shrouded."

That bastard! Staying mysterious still!

"I know! So, you gotta go deal with him or something so we can get out of here."

Where is he?

"He's in the middle of the mall. Check the map over there."

Robbie stands up, thanks the person, and turns. "The map? Weird." Robbie walks over to the map and checks it. There's actually a marker with his monicker on it, and his eyes go wide. "Someone is calling me out. About time, too. Chris Chaos has done a piss poor job of it so far. That dehydrated and spent sack of shit needs some kind of refresher. Maybe he could be the chicken man or something, I don't know. Chicken Suckin' Chris Chaos. Every match, you could slurp down a bucket of Bojangles, Popeyes, AND Kentucky Fried Chicken straight off the bone, appeal to some fetish demographic." Robbie starts to walk towards the center of the mall. "I mean, this mind control guy is way more complicated than you are. I have no idea how to fight a mind control guy. Never done it before. You, Chris, you I could do this with forever. I've fought you twice so far. I obviously cheated you of a victory before, just like you've been cheated out of everything ever since, boo fucking hoo. Cry, piss, and moan about it, do nothing really though. Piss and moan about what I said, what I could have said, blah blah blah. Actions speak louder than words, and Chris Chaos gets as much action as Chris Christie's treadmill. How do you let a urethra collect dust like that? Hey, that's a great gimmick shift, a way to get some headway, avoid that lame name of yours once and for all, be Chris Christie. It's bound to be more interesting than another round of 'holy crap I was cheated' followed by the awkward silence of an insecure man who backpeddles over his own words and can deliver defense mechanism after defense mechanism after defense mechanism, until he's cycled through and shown all of them." Robbie glances at a turn in the mall and listens for whatever muffled music was being played, walking in that direction. "I've read you like a book, Chris. There's no surprising anybody since you've shown us all your tricks already. I don't have to wonder what's going to happen in the ring. It's Chaos, getting repetitive in the ring over sixty minutes, telegraphing the same crappy three moves you get by in your matches, getting peppered with so many different Robbiebomb variations you'll lose count after two. Possibly due to dislodgement of a vertebrae. See, I have a very founded notion of what I'm saying when I say your body will go through hell. Can you count the Robbiebombs, Chris? How many there are? Nope. You're busy with a thumb up your ass wiping a tear from your eye about how Christmas came and went without it's Universal choo-choo and you felt all alone. You won't rewatch what happened to your body, the trauma of a spinal column hitting the floor at the constant of gravity plus whatever oomph I get behind it. Fuck me, whatever oomph I get behind it is the chaotic variable, because lots of different Robbiebombs carry lots of different oomph!" Robbie stops as we leave his head, hearing Move This by Technotronic. Someone is a fan. The camera pivots to show a cloaked figure sitting in the middle of the mall in a comfy looking lounger. Beside them are five men in their underwear and wearing local sherrif hats, dancing with shotguns.

Enough! This twisted mind control game you're playing ends now, 'Marco'.

Marco stands and looks at Robbie. The five men charge him, swinging their shotguns like clubs at him, muttering the words 'spill the beans' a lot. Robbie kicks the first in the gut with such force the other four guys stop and stare, then hoists the man with the shotgun up for a Crucifix Robbiebomb! He levels two other men with the first as all four crash to the ground, knocked silly! Robbie turns an bashes both the remaining underwear clad shotgunner heads together, then grabs one and lifts him into a reverse fireman's carry! He spins out and delivers a Heliolux Sitout Robbiebomb! The last guy hits Robbie over the crown of his mask with his shot gun. Robbie stands up from the sit out while getting peppered with shots from the shotgun club. Robbie blocks one of the shotgun blows and grabs the attacker by the throat! He scoops under the guy's leg! ELEVATED CHOKE ROBBIEBOMB! There's one for the connoisseurs. The bad guys thoroughly Robbiebombed, Robbie turns back to 'Marco'. Marco raises his hand at Robbie, then points at a platter of donuts. Robbie is immediately enthralled by them.

"Holy shit, I'm fucking famished!" Robbie marches gleefully towards the donuts. "Welp, time to munch." Robbie downs a donut. "Mmmmm. Fucking greatness. Fried bread with sugar." Robbie picks up a second donut and pats his belly. "Mmm, mmm, mmm, this chocolate frosted with whipped cream one is delightful." Robbie's eyes go wide as he stares at the donut. "Wait, I get bavarian cream!" Robbie throws the donut to the ground and stares down the cloaked figure.

That won't work on me, I hate whipped cream filled donuts! Fucking nasty.

The cloaked figure turns and tries to run from the couch they stood on, but trips over their dramatic cloak and falls to the ground. Robbie runs up and pounces on the downed figure like an offensive lineman trying to recover a fumble. He throws back the cloak and we see a girl, youthful and bright eyed, her hair a matted mess of bright fiery red. She looks at Bourbon with disgust.

Who are you?

Hah, hehehehehehe.

She laughs in the face of Robbie who looks quizzically at her.

Oh, shit, sorry. You can call me Strawberry Fields.

Cute.

I know.

What the fuck is going on?

Well, it looks like I got your attention, hehe.

Is that what you wanted?

I wanted to let Charlottesville get good and hot before you could do anything to stop it.

You what?

See, I wanted a LOT of nazis to get wrecked, so I got the best wrecker in the world to come to Charlottesville to wreck them. If you came earlier you would have brought the peace, maybe settled the problems before they occured.

I could have saved someone's life.

What are a few lives anyway in the bigger picture? You would have stopped one nazi, tops, if I hadn't intervened.

But all those people in DC, those men you warped the minds of and abused, you tortured those veterans into doing horrible things...

They were needed parts for the cause. To catch a big fish, one must use big bait.

Strawberry Fields, the deranged mentalist and mind manipulator, reaches up and hugs Robbie.

Now I get to be a Bourbon Man! Or Person! I wanted to get you a way to wreck something.

Robbie rocks back onto his knees and away from the embrace of Strawberry Fields. He immediately flips her over and uses the sleeves of her overbig cloak to tie her arms behind her back as she screams at the top of her lungs.

"Scream all you want. Cry all you want. You need help, and you need to be locked up to get it." Robbie looks extremely pissed. "Can't fucking wreck you, no sir, no little girls blood is coming at my hands." Robbie starts to drag Strawberry Fields, kicking and screaming, through the mall towards the exit as we exit Robbie's mind.

The sounds of a screaming child bring a sense of normalcy back to the mall as people step out of shops here and there, now that the coast was clear. Robbie drags Strawberry Fields to the back of his souped up Challenger.

Open.

Inside is a harnessed seat instead of a regular trunk, and Robbie places Strawberry Fields into the seat, locking down her wrists and ankles.

Close.

The trunk closes and finally the screams are muffled. Robbie walks back to the front of the car and sits. The screen comes to life.

Zat bitch is hurting mine ears!

Let's get her to the police.]]> <![CDATA[I'm Batman Pt. 2]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28980 Fri, 18 Aug 2017 15:33:41 -0700 Seth Feder]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=28980 Several days had gone by since anyone had heard from the returning "Ten Times Better" Seth Feder. This included his "father" Vinnie Lane and Alfred -- the last two that spoke to Seth. Both men had concerns about the well-being of Seth, but for two different reasons. Alfred was worried he wouldn't be paid his handsome salary if Seth was no longer around; second, Vinnie was worried he would simply no show the King of the Ring pay per view.

What's been shared so far from the butler is that Seth had become obsessed with living out the fictional Bruce Wayne / Batman character. He spent a good amount of money on changing his whole identity.

He purchased several comic book and graphic novel sets; watched every animated showing of the caped crusader; bought out a whole theater that showed the Nolan Batman Trilogy films; and binge-watched the Batman Television show starring the late Adam West. Vinnie simply ignored the hundred dollars here or the thousand dollars there, just because it had become a habit for Seth. Vinnie just had to wait it out until Sid arrived. According to several reports, Mr. Lane about blew a gasket when he found out he spent almost a million dollars on being coached by Christopher Nolan and Christian Bale on how to be Batman in the real world.

That move was the final straw for Vinnie. He ended up calling Alfred and the two spoke in detail about Seth's sleepless nights and addiction to be this character. Vinnie promised Alfred the checks would keep coming as long as he kept him in the loop once the location of Seth was found.

On Tuesday, late in the afternoon, a black porsche pulled into the drive-way of the Feder residence in Las Vegas (where Alfred was at). Walking towards the front door was Seth with a beautiful woman on each side. The hair looked quite different. It was pulled back into a ponytail; he had a buttoned up dress shirt tucked into his black pants. Alfred looked a much different Seth he had seen just days earlier.

Seth slipped his sunglasses down to make eye contact with his butler, gave a smirk and continued walking past.

Alfred thought for a moment if he should call Mr. Lane to let him know Seth had returned, but decided against it. (After hearing all about Vinnie from Seth, Alfred decided it was more fun to let him worry.)

"What harm could a day or two delay do?" Alfred thought to himself. He continued doing his daily work by keeping the Feder residence nice and tidy.

Later that day when everyone was sleeping, a loud banging noise was heard on the roof. "For heaven sake! Who in the bloody hell is that?" said Alfred to himself while getting his rob on. (Alfred worked as a green beret in his earlier years, and knew how to take care of himself if the situation ever arose.) Up he went to check on what the noise was about. As he got closer, he heard several men chatting and laughing like they were having a party.

He opened the window and saw men wearing bright orange vests on top of their clothes.

"What in God's name are you doing? And who are you?" he said rather annoyed.

"Uh, Mr. -- Feder. Yeah, Mr. Feder I believe lives here?" he asked.

"Son-of-a-bitch. Now what has he gone and done?" Alfred said under his breath. "Yes, that's correct. I'm his butler. May I ask what you're doing?"

"We're installing his bat signal," the supervisor said while the rest of the crew laughed.

"Say that again?"

"A bat signal. You know, like batman."

Alfred shook his head in disbelief, and closed the window. He made his way to Seth's room, lightly knocked but no answer. He knocked again -- no answer. He quietly opened the door and saw him lying in bed between two naked ladies. As he rolled his eyes and went against his judgment on waking his boss, he noticed several colored magazines on his dresser. He took one out of curiosity due to the front cover.

After shutting the door, he looked down and said, "You've got to be fucking kidd--" he couldn't finish his sentence. It was Issue 001 of the Seth Feder turned Batman graphic novel. He opened it up and roughly skimmed through and one picture caught his attention, which caused a smirk to come across his face. The picture in question was the comic version of Seth hugging the comic version of ... Vinnie Lane. It was the beginning of their relationship and how Seth Feder became "The Batman."

The next morning, Seth came downstairs for his masterfully cooked breakfast from new employee Gordon Ramsay. Alfred through the novel onto the eating table by his plate.

"Ah, you read it" said Seth with a smile. "So what did you think?"

"You're out of your bloody mind," replied Alfred.

"We've established what your thoughts are about me, but what about the novel?"

"It was okay. It didn't have a lot of caped crusader fighting crime action."

"Yeah, but I'll find more crime."

"Beg your pardon?"

"I'll find more crime. When I find it, well it'll get better."

Alfred had no idea what Seth was talking about.

"I'm sorry sir, but I don't know exactly --"

"Oh! This novel isn't going to be fiction. I'm going to share with the artists and writer what I actually am doing, or did, and they'll put it in. It's real life shit, not some fiction. I told you --- I'm going to be the real Batman."

"Perhaps I should have called Mr. Lane yesterday," Alfred said to himself.

Alfred called Vinnie, but had to leave a voice mail. It was just a few days shy of the big King of the Ring and Vinnie had his hands full. Everyone knew that Sid wouldn't show up this weekend, and Seth already was introduced to the XWF as Vinnie's protégé.

For the next several days, Alfred would only see Seth for a few seconds awake. The rest of the time it was Seth lying in bed with bruises on his body, dry blood on his face, and some naked woman in his bed.

The real life Batman would actually go out into Las Vegas and roam the streets until something bad would take place. He'd go into action by trying to help. It annoyed the hell out of the cops because they thought he was a lunatic, but couldn't really arrest him for helping.

Alfred wondered how long Seth would keep up this lifestyle of his, though he didn't mind it as much as long as the checks kept coming. You could tell in Alfred's manor that he was starting to take a liking to his boss, but he never let it show. It did fascinate him how Vinnie Land would react, which gave him quite a chuckle. ]]> Several days had gone by since anyone had heard from the returning "Ten Times Better" Seth Feder. This included his "father" Vinnie Lane and Alfred -- the last two that spoke to Seth. Both men had concerns about the well-being of Seth, but for two different reasons. Alfred was worried he wouldn't be paid his handsome salary if Seth was no longer around; second, Vinnie was worried he would simply no show the King of the Ring pay per view.

What's been shared so far from the butler is that Seth had become obsessed with living out the fictional Bruce Wayne / Batman character. He spent a good amount of money on changing his whole identity.

He purchased several comic book and graphic novel sets; watched every animated showing of the caped crusader; bought out a whole theater that showed the Nolan Batman Trilogy films; and binge-watched the Batman Television show starring the late Adam West. Vinnie simply ignored the hundred dollars here or the thousand dollars there, just because it had become a habit for Seth. Vinnie just had to wait it out until Sid arrived. According to several reports, Mr. Lane about blew a gasket when he found out he spent almost a million dollars on being coached by Christopher Nolan and Christian Bale on how to be Batman in the real world.

That move was the final straw for Vinnie. He ended up calling Alfred and the two spoke in detail about Seth's sleepless nights and addiction to be this character. Vinnie promised Alfred the checks would keep coming as long as he kept him in the loop once the location of Seth was found.

On Tuesday, late in the afternoon, a black porsche pulled into the drive-way of the Feder residence in Las Vegas (where Alfred was at). Walking towards the front door was Seth with a beautiful woman on each side. The hair looked quite different. It was pulled back into a ponytail; he had a buttoned up dress shirt tucked into his black pants. Alfred looked a much different Seth he had seen just days earlier.

Seth slipped his sunglasses down to make eye contact with his butler, gave a smirk and continued walking past.

Alfred thought for a moment if he should call Mr. Lane to let him know Seth had returned, but decided against it. (After hearing all about Vinnie from Seth, Alfred decided it was more fun to let him worry.)

"What harm could a day or two delay do?" Alfred thought to himself. He continued doing his daily work by keeping the Feder residence nice and tidy.

Later that day when everyone was sleeping, a loud banging noise was heard on the roof. "For heaven sake! Who in the bloody hell is that?" said Alfred to himself while getting his rob on. (Alfred worked as a green beret in his earlier years, and knew how to take care of himself if the situation ever arose.) Up he went to check on what the noise was about. As he got closer, he heard several men chatting and laughing like they were having a party.

He opened the window and saw men wearing bright orange vests on top of their clothes.

"What in God's name are you doing? And who are you?" he said rather annoyed.

"Uh, Mr. -- Feder. Yeah, Mr. Feder I believe lives here?" he asked.

"Son-of-a-bitch. Now what has he gone and done?" Alfred said under his breath. "Yes, that's correct. I'm his butler. May I ask what you're doing?"

"We're installing his bat signal," the supervisor said while the rest of the crew laughed.

"Say that again?"

"A bat signal. You know, like batman."

Alfred shook his head in disbelief, and closed the window. He made his way to Seth's room, lightly knocked but no answer. He knocked again -- no answer. He quietly opened the door and saw him lying in bed between two naked ladies. As he rolled his eyes and went against his judgment on waking his boss, he noticed several colored magazines on his dresser. He took one out of curiosity due to the front cover.

After shutting the door, he looked down and said, "You've got to be fucking kidd--" he couldn't finish his sentence. It was Issue 001 of the Seth Feder turned Batman graphic novel. He opened it up and roughly skimmed through and one picture caught his attention, which caused a smirk to come across his face. The picture in question was the comic version of Seth hugging the comic version of ... Vinnie Lane. It was the beginning of their relationship and how Seth Feder became "The Batman."

The next morning, Seth came downstairs for his masterfully cooked breakfast from new employee Gordon Ramsay. Alfred through the novel onto the eating table by his plate.

"Ah, you read it" said Seth with a smile. "So what did you think?"

"You're out of your bloody mind," replied Alfred.

"We've established what your thoughts are about me, but what about the novel?"

"It was okay. It didn't have a lot of caped crusader fighting crime action."

"Yeah, but I'll find more crime."

"Beg your pardon?"

"I'll find more crime. When I find it, well it'll get better."

Alfred had no idea what Seth was talking about.

"I'm sorry sir, but I don't know exactly --"

"Oh! This novel isn't going to be fiction. I'm going to share with the artists and writer what I actually am doing, or did, and they'll put it in. It's real life shit, not some fiction. I told you --- I'm going to be the real Batman."

"Perhaps I should have called Mr. Lane yesterday," Alfred said to himself.

Alfred called Vinnie, but had to leave a voice mail. It was just a few days shy of the big King of the Ring and Vinnie had his hands full. Everyone knew that Sid wouldn't show up this weekend, and Seth already was introduced to the XWF as Vinnie's protégé.

For the next several days, Alfred would only see Seth for a few seconds awake. The rest of the time it was Seth lying in bed with bruises on his body, dry blood on his face, and some naked woman in his bed.

The real life Batman would actually go out into Las Vegas and roam the streets until something bad would take place. He'd go into action by trying to help. It annoyed the hell out of the cops because they thought he was a lunatic, but couldn't really arrest him for helping.

Alfred wondered how long Seth would keep up this lifestyle of his, though he didn't mind it as much as long as the checks kept coming. You could tell in Alfred's manor that he was starting to take a liking to his boss, but he never let it show. It did fascinate him how Vinnie Land would react, which gave him quite a chuckle. ]]> <![CDATA[Tracking]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=29007 Fri, 18 Aug 2017 15:29:09 -0700 The Clone of Brock Lesnar]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=29007

“Don’t push him around like that! I don’t think he’s even conscious!”

“You know who this guy is? He can take a shove or two.”

Brock squints his eyes, opening himself to the world around him. His hands are trapped behind his back. He’s also on his side in the corner of the room, and based on the context, he probably got shoved down only moments before. This is further proven by a metal chair right next to Brock.

“I think he’s waking up.”

“I told you we needed to rattle him a little bit.”

Brock starts to sit up, and the two men, dressed in all black, tower above Brock.

“Tell us your name.”

The men look intently at the Clone of Brock Lesnar, testing to see if he is cognitively functioning. His body is finally recovering from the intense tranquilizers given to him several hours before.

“Brock…I’m Brock Lesnar.”

Ever so slowly, one of the Counter Intelligence Agents pulls out a polaroid from his pocket.

“Now, Brock, I want you to be comfortable answering this question. Your words are safe with us, we’ll protect you and watch out for you. So tell us what you know about this.”

The agent reveals a photograph. A low quality picture of an eight year old boy holding a dead lizard in his hand.

“I never seen that kid in my life!”

The CIA Agent that is clearly playing ‘bad cop’ in this scene strikes Brock over the head.

“Not the kid! Do you have a god damn rat brain? The lizard! What do you know about the lizards?”

Brock is momentarily dumb founded. In his half conscious state, his memory of the lizard people comes back in bits and pieces.

“Uhhhhh, they had lots of sandwiches. That shit was good. And they would let me fuck anyone, and I mean anyone! And there was all the beer I could get.”

Brock smiles, remembering the day to day life of fucking clones. The CIA Agents are perplexed. They give Brock a look of confusion, and they turn their back to him.

“What the fuck is he talking about?”

“I don’t know. I hope we didn’t fry his brain.”

“There’s gotta be an explanation.”

“What should we do?”

“Fuck, we need to get this dummy to tell us something.”

They turn back to The Clone who is still in a haze.

“So Brock, what were your plans when you were walking around in Philadelphia?”

A scared look crosses Brock’s face.

“They were after me. They wanted to catch me, and they wanted to hurt me.”

But then Brock’s face contorts to an angry expression.

“I still had to finish business, I had to take care of Jack, and they wouldn’t let me. They wouldn’t let me put my hands on him!”

“Okay, okay, okay. Calm down, Brock.”

Brock’s head falls to the side, and he starts to snore quietly. Another tranquilizer is lodged in the side of his neck.

“What the hell?!”

“The big fucker was getting crazy. And I think he told us just enough.”

The Clone of Brock Lesnar would never remember this series of events. He would not remember being abducted by the CIA, and he would not know that a chip was inserted in the back of his skull that could triangulate on his position anywhere in the world.

Instead, The Clone of Brock Lesnar came to his senses in an airport, just passed security. He holds a carry on by his side, and a dull head ache.

The only thing on his mind is one thing, and that’s making Jack Cain pay for all the grandstanding and shit he’s talked over the last two months.

]]>