<![CDATA[X-treme Wrestling Federation - WAR GAMES 2017 RP BOARD]]>

<![CDATA[X-treme Wrestling Federation - WAR GAMES 2017 RP BOARD]]> https://xwf1999.com/ Fri, 08 May 2026 14:44:57 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[A Motherfuckers' Christmas Comic]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30136 Fri, 22 Dec 2017 23:58:27 -0800 "The Wolf of Afghanistan" Joshua Schuler]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30136

~Page 2/ Block A~

Bearded War Pig is walking toward what looks to be a combination between a black hawk and a cobra helicopter. Very sleek and almost invisible like, Robbie Bourbon is finishing one last hamburger while rubbing his belly, making sure he is full for the mission ahead. Engy begins stretching wanting to be agile and flexible, incase anything serious occurs.

Pig’s dialogue bubble reads.

“Looks like we will need to prep the MF Eagle to take us to Tokyo in style!”

Bourbon’s bubble reads.

"Yeah make sure that tin bird is all good to transport us to Japan, the world is counting on us!"

Engy's turn.

"Did we get the flip down monitors yet for movie time?"

~Page 2/Block B~

Pig has made it to the MF Eagle a black steel helicopter with solar panels, air vents, and holographic panels to help cloak the flying war machine. Thirty millimeter machine guns are layered on the belly of the bird, a total of six. Just the beginning of it's fire power, a mass number of missiles. Enough to conduct seven different hell fire missile gun runs. Basically this machine could conquer a small country with the support of very little man power. Bearded War Pig sits in the pilots chair flipping switches with a devilish smile on his face, not getting to operate the Motherfucker's more valuable toys. Engy looks to Bourbon and then to the MF Eagle with wide eyes knowing, you never know what Pig can do. Bourbon pulls his straps to his singlet and lets them smack back down on his barrel chest.

Pig's bubble.

"So much fire power. So much death. So want to fuck shit up!"

Engy's bubble.

"You sure it is a good idea letting his overly excited self fire that very expensive and rare death machine up? We kind of do need to complete this mission or it could be the end of the free world!"

Bourbon's bubble.

"Oh would you look at him? Right now you couldn't tell he is one ornery and disgruntled Marine Veteran. Right now he looks as happy as a puppy sales man. Not like a man who has killed another man with an MRE spoon and used that same spoon to devour a MRE right afterwards."

~Page 2/Block C~

Pig flips the final switch for the MF Eagle’s engine to roar to life. Accept nothing happens. Pig is pictured flipping the switch repeatedly. He is looking flustered like someone no matter what they do just can’t get things to go their way. Bourbon has been watching and knows Pig did everything correct; his hand begins scratching the top of his head as he is left in deep thought. Engy is just chuckling knowing Pig is too goofy and free spirited to be left in charge of such delicate matters.

Pig has a bubble attached to his picture.

“What the fucking fuck, why wont you fire up? We have to save the Prime Minister of Japan!”

~Page 3/Block A~

BWP flips the switch one last time, this time the engine fires up spitting flames. The propellers begin to spiral slowly at first and their speeds increase faster and faster. Until soon it sounds like a rock was thrown into the rotors or something. Smoke begins to fill the scene from the tail pipe of the helicopter. Pig's eyes are wide as he looks around for fire in the cabin. Robbie begins to panic a little as he charges toward the burning MF Eagle. Engy palms his face and begins shaking his head

Pig's bubble.

"What the titty fucking Christ!?"

Bourbon's bubble.

"Oh no! Hurry get out of there, she's going to blow!"

Engy's bubble.

"Told you so."

~Page 3/Block B~

"Boom" is spelled out with fire and smoke coming from and explosion from the MF Eagle's engine. BWP is sent flying out of the helicopter with a foot tall flame burning off his butt, leaving a charred hole on his left buttocks. His face almost covered in smoke and sot almost making it as if he is in black face. Pig lands on his ass and goes tumbling into Robbie Bourbon knocking him from his feet. Both men then go tumbling. Engy stops them both by placing his foot on Bourbon's round belly. Engy just laughs out loud. Bourbon and Pig can't help but break out into laughter as well.

Engy's bubble.

"Now if you two want to quit playing grab ass, we do have a world wide mission to complete. Remember the President and his cabinet have requested our assistance."

Pig's bubble.

"You fuckers better not think this is my fault. I did everything right, flipped all the switches in proper sequence, and I checked all liquids before hand. Not my fault."

Bourbon's bubble.

"Okay lets not worry about who's fault it is that we just blew up a one hundred million dollar flying machine. We need to stay focused and remember what is at stake here. So let's put our minds together and come up with a solution."

~Page 3/Block C

Pig has climbed to his feet and begins rummaging through the debris from the explosion. Bourbon also has climbed to his feet and has walked over to one of the main monitors as he begins downloading an UBER application. Engy pulls out his cell phone and begins to punch some numbers in. The whole headquarters is covered in soot and black smog. Black metal chunks of the MF Eagle and some melted material from the fire.

~Page 4~

Fourth page is just a overhead view of the Motherfuckers headquarters, big green letters spell out "Jingle, Jingle, Jingle!" behind a red sleigh being pulled by nine reindeer, a bright red nose leading the pack. Sanata a jolly fatman holds the reigns and is smiling with a AT4 slung on his back. Snow is falling down from the skies to the mountain side below.

~Page 5/Block A~

With all of their ideas failing the Motherfuckers begin to look depressed and unsure what to do. BWP stands with his arms crossed still scanning the debris trying to figure out exactly what went wrong. Bourbon has gone back to snacking having worked up an appetite trying to brainstorm a new means of transportation over an ocean. Engy stands on his phone twirling a blade on his left pointer finger like it is a basket ball. When suddenly the front door flings open and in the door way stands the jolly red man himself with a AT4 rocket launcher on his back.

Santa's bubble.

"You Motherfuckers looking to go save the world? Well Santa is here to give you a helping hand. See those Furry Fuckers have been real naughty this year. Lying, Cheating, and not believing! Not believing in me or themselves!"

Pig's bubble.

"Just give me one fucking clue!"

Engy's bubble

"Holy shit Santa is real!"

Bourbon's bubble.

"Grandpa?!"

Page 5/Block B

All three members of the Motherfuckers and Santa now sit in his sleigh packed full of children's Christmas presents and fully automatic rifles, grenades, rocket launchers, and basically anything else you'd find at a military armory. The Sleight is flying over the ocean on it's way to Japan so the Motherfuckers can save the day. Just up ahead of the slave in the distance you can see a blurry image of the island.

~Final Page/Block A~

The sleigh lands and all four men hop out like a SWAT team storming the ground. Charging toward a tall sky scraper style building where the Furry Fuckers are holding the Prime Minister and many others hostage. All four men stack up on the door. Pig is number one, he looks back to the rest of the men. They nod letting him know they are ready. Pig boots the door in and in charges Engy leading the way, taking out terrorist after terrorist with throwing blades. Followed by Bourbon who charges in judo chopping, hip tossing, and power gut checking his way to the elevator. Santa is shortly behind him with sharpened candy canes tucked between his fingers clawing terrorists as he makes it to the staircase. Holding down the avenue of approach with the AT4's rocket aimed at the top. BWP comes in last with a smile on his face, his custom AR-10 raised in the kill position, no more terrorists left on the first floor. The gang proceeds up the stairs to the next floor where a giant brawl breaks out. A giant cloud of smoke fills the room, fists, boots, and weapons sporadically pop out of the smoke for a brief second at a time. The smoke clears, a pile of knocked out terrorists lay unconscious. Pig is whipping blood from his lip as they all pick their weapons of choice back up before pushing on.

~Final Page/Block B~

The Motherfuckers and Santa Make it to the top floor where the Furry Fuckers have their penises thrusting in the face of Prime Minister of Japan. Bourbon points his finger and stares a whole through the terrorist group. Before taking off at a full force sprint running into the group and knocking them away from the prime minister with a huge belly splash! Engy quickly slides in and grabs the Prime Minister ushering him away to safety behind Santa who launches a rocket toward the terrorist organization. The rocket misses and blows a whole in the wall. Pig begins charging in to take out the Furry Fuckers. Just in time they escape out the hole in the wall caused by Santa.

Prime Minister bubble.

"Oh Sank you so much, I thought I was going to be raped by those silly assholes!"

Pig's bubble.

"Bastards got away. Probably won't be the last time we see those sick fucks."

Bourbon's bubble.

"At least we saved the day again. Until next time."

Engy's bubble.

"Well guess we will be home for Christmas."

Santa's bubble.

"Ho, ho, ho and Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!"

]]>

]]> <![CDATA[Euthanizing the Bitch]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30135 Fri, 22 Dec 2017 23:28:08 -0800 JimCaedus]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30135 ======€@£|)Ų$======

"Euthanizing the Bitch"

--The Not Too Distant Future--

--American History--

::We FADE IN on a packed high school classroom and the buzz of teenage conversation. Luckily for us in context with the jarring nature of leaping around time and despite this being the future, it's as realistic a future as can be and is easily adjusted to, the students all clad in 90s style clothing and haircuts which just so happen to have cycled back around into fashion, thankfully also bringing along with them the rediscovery of legitimate hip hop, the second-gen credless new wave rap bullshit of the 2010s having long ago been revealed as the biggest rib ever played on the industry and it's fans as part of an experiment perpetrated in conjunction with the government and the media to see just how shitty they could make music, film and television before the stupid masses caught on to the fact they were being punked.

A hush falls over the class as the instructor finishes silently taking touch-screen attendance and stands, adjusting his prescription Geordi La Forge visor because 90s fashion or not, it's the future and some things need to be presented as such, right?

"Alright gentlemen, ladies, good afternoon...can anyone tell me where we left off yesterday?"

It may be the future but some things never change and the class remains silent in response.

"Come on now, we've spent the whole week discussing presidential history. None of you remembers who we left off with? Was it Donald Trump?"

Of course they remember, they'd all had a good ol' time laughing about the fact a past generation had seen fit to embarrass the country in electing Trump into office when clearly they should've elected Deez Nuts. Not Hillary though, that's just silly. Anyway, the novelty had worn off overnight, now the moody teens were back to believing trying = dork.

At long last, a very unlikable brown nosing poser in the front row known for spouting out "No Shit, Sherlock" revelations answers, "It was President Trump, Mr. de Grace," then adopts a look of superiority.

An overdramatic and simultaneous sigh of exasperation punctuated by eyerolls escapes from the class.

Mr. de Grace, who prefers to be called Ku (being of French & Japanese descent) in favor of a more friendly and relatable position with the youth, levies a glance of disdain himself at the boy before-

"Indeed, it was President Trump...and we left off early in his term in late twenty seventeen."

Mr. de Grace wants to either backhand or ask the pretentious little prick why the only accurate statements and answers he ever utters are either repeating another's words or those that fall in the Given category yet he acts like it's groundbreaking news to everyone else. Instead, he ignores the punk and embarks on his practiced lesson plan.

"Well class if you recall, we learned how President Trump, like most of the presidents of the 20th and early 21st century before him, had both lied to the public and played off the people's bigotry to weasel his way into the White House. We learned he was a man who was fond of saying whatever he thought would be taken as truth if he made his argument or story sound convincing and he arrogantly assumed most people to be dumb enough to believe it or lazy enough not to check the facts. Now...I could spend more time on President Trump relaying the information on the many ways he negatively impacted the nation while in office in detail such as the rape of national landmarks or the war on Mexico which of course led to The Alamo: Part Deux and the death of David Crockett the 11th...but it was the next man elected in 2019 who would prove to be the herald for, believe it or not, positive change in our country.

Dexter Bright, a professional wrestler turned senator in 2018 who-"

"Wait, a wrestler? A wrestler was a senator??"

Mr. de Grace laughs.

"You have to understand, James, back then the idea wasn't so outlandish or in any way original, though Dexter Bright thought he'd displayed a real creative humdinger of a decision to run, like how each successive soap opera screenwriter thinks the old "surprise bastard child" bit isn't cliché whenever the next one uses it. See, it wasn't unusual for ridiculously under-qualified conservative actors to become governor or president or handsy liberal comedians to be seen as senators. What's more, Dexter Bright wasn't even the first pro-wrestler to make such a move, he was preceded by men like Jesse Ventura, Nikolai Volkoff and Glenn Jacobs...but he was most definitely the first to be elected president and one of few senators ever elected while a seated senator.

Most senators who ran for office could never win over the public, they all lacked the charisma to get the job done and would unintentionally alienate with political jargon the people couldn't understand."

"But Dexter Bright was able to, huh Mr. de Grace."

"How illuminating, bright light, you put that together yourself? He literally already said that, it's now common knowledge."

Mr. Ku de Grace could intervene if he wanted to...but he doesn't. He's getting a kick out of the usage of the now common slang phrase "how illuminating, bright light" (which had replaced other such insulting colloquialisms "smooth move, ex-lax", "duh" and it's regional "doi" variation) and just so happened to have seen it's genesis in critical context of none other than President Bright himself.

"I did put it together myself actually, it's called research, James. I'm an expert at this point."

"Oh yeah?" James produces his net-halo from his backpack and slides it atop his head, sets the browser screen to opaque so the know-it-all can't read from the other side and mentally initiates a search. "How many terms did President Trump have in office, genius?"

"Two!"

"WRONG bright-guy-" (another Dexter Bright inspired insult) "-it was ONE!"

"Bright guy" suddenly and hastily shoots up from his desk and in a display of "I just got outed as a posing fake fuckstick" exclaims-

"Ooooo, look at the EXPERT in President Trump everybody!"

He snatches his show choir cane and sparkle top hat from his backpack-

"I call this, "Big James's Shack of Facts"!"

-then begins singing to the tune of pop oldie "Mmmbop" like an asshole who somehow thinks he's funny and cool but really is just an über-effeminate bisexual while performing the federally banned Achy Breaky Heart line-dance.

"Mmm flop, mmm flop, mmm flop,
Floobey dooooo plop,
mmm flop, oh oh nooooo ooooh whoooa

Oh, I'm a lying sack of asshoooles...
And I got called on my shiiiit...
So now I'll act like I'm the cool doooope...
And do this to make fun of hi-"

James roundly silences him with a swung right hook to the jaw.

Ten all too brief seconds later the douchebag slowly gathers himself and rises...then-

"I got my ass kicked but I'm stiiill coooool...
'Cause if I lose it means I wiiiiiin...
And up is down and right is left, foooool...
I'm-"

James headbutts him then grabs his stringy arm, swings him around and irish whips him towards and ultimately through the nearest convenient closed classroom window in a shower of glass.

Mr. de Grace doesn't bother alerting school security or the nurse on staff, he intends to say the kid killed himself over the verified rumor he'd been stickin' it to his tranny next door neighbor and he knew the class would back that u-

"I push persistence on for miiiiiuuuuuuules..." The douche continues from outside the window now, standing with shards of glass protruding from his face and pretending it doesn't hurt.
"You know you gotta give me thaaaat...
And also give me all your styyyuuuules...
'Cause I'm a shameless copyca-"

::BLAM!::

Mr. de Grace blows the boy's brains out with a single well-aimed shot from his required-by-law-here-in-the-future faculty fifty-cal phaser, uses a Kleenex to snatch up and whack himself in the forehead with the decedent's show choir cane, then immediately begins looking forward to the parade that'll be thrown in his honor for stomping out domestic terrorism in our nation's schools. Again, he knows the students will back up his story...implied by the raucous ovation in reaction to the smug fibber's death.

He can't distract himself with that now, however, he has a class to teach...

"Okay, hahaha, okay, OOOkay, let's get back on track here. So, before I was so rudely interrupted...Senator Dexter Bright used his silver tongued orator skills to pull the wool over the eyes of the nation and was elected president following Trump's first term. A few months later, President Bright was using his executive power to pass the pathetic Eye-for-a-Wife Act among numerous other horrifyingly disgusting inhuman and indecent infractions against the American people. And how possibly could he have gotten away with it at the time, you ask?"

Mr. de Grace activates the Learnin' Orb on his desk and antiquated 2D news footage begins to play...

We see President Bright standing before a podium taking questions from the press.

"President Bright, what in God's name are you thinking brainstorming a law encouraging men to assault the wives of other men who steal from them? Are you inSANE, sir!?"

President Bright merely smiles slyly and responds-

::PAUSE::

"Whoa, sorry, sorry. Forgot to enable the

Translator, I forgot this footage was taken before the human race spontaneously lost the genetic coding that allowed us to make sense of gibberish, effectively wiping incoherency clean of our species slate. ...There we go."

::RESUME::

"What Eye-for-a-Wife Act?"

"Theeeee Eye-for-a-Wife Act you passed via executive order?"

"Look everyone, that woman makes no sense and is only speaking gibberish. She's craaaaazy! Flibbity flobbity bibbity bobbity boo!"

"Uh-"

"Bladdadeedah whooo?"

"What?"

"Blaaaaaablooblooptyshoopshaboobopwop?"

"Sigh...no further questions."

"Point aaaand match. .......goo goo ga ga."

::END::

"Wait...ok...so...how did that help him get away with it at the time, sir?"

"Well James, no men or women at the time knew how to counter such nonsense without simply giving up or slitting their own wrists in frustration. At least...not in the arena of politics or journalism. There WAS one man, however, ANOTHER pro-wrestler, who via the support, strength and vindication of his two close friends was able to fight back and shine the light on President Bright as it were. His name...was Jim...Caedus. Unfortunately, all footage of their televised political debates was destroyed by President Bright's cabinet in pursuit of erasing the evidence that would still ultimately condemn him, no one could UNwatch it after witnessing damnation of that magnitude...but I just so happen to have archival footage of the two of them squaring off in a battle of wits in the promotion they both hailed from, the XWF. I'm sure you've heard of it, they currently lead the pack in sports entertainment as they have since waaaaaay back in 1999. In any case, I took the liberty of editing this together to exhibit just how outclassed Dexter Bright was, calling himself The Engineer, while going head to head with Jim Caedus, now an XWF Legend."

::PLAY::

"Are you fuckin' kidding me with this shit, Engy? You call that angering the giant? You call that enterTAINING!? Bullseye, ya botchin' baron o' bungfruit and ball-less bitchassery, THAT'S what we all wanna see when we're tunin' in to watch two men go at it with shit talk in professional wrestling, give us some newsroom footage! I-"

::SCAN::

"We can actually go ahead and skip this part, it's really only commentary on how lame it is to think perusing the news in sports entertainment is enjoyable. Jim also addresses the notion that footage of The Engineer trash talking an opponent being allowed to monopolize a segment existing to discuss a political future was a contrived and unrealistic idea. ...Here we go."

::PLAY::

"-upid fuckin' idiot! A discussion on your possible senatorship "organically" segues into-"

::SCAN::

::PLAY::

"-ACK! HACK I say! You are the WORST-"

::SCAN::

::PLAY::

"-eal though, WHAT were you thinking!? "Watch me torpedo the concept o' quality, everybody!?"

::SCAN::

"He uh...he had a lot to say. Heh."

::PLAY::

"-f all the HALF-WIT, lame brained-"

::SCAN::

::PLAY::

"-ade ME mad?"

"Here we are."

"Dick, you're just butthurt and testy over the fact your balls, boxers and cup keep laughing at your toddler penis." The class erupts in laughter. "And also that I nailed you to the wall with my trash talk and don't you deny it bitch, it's why you came back so fast. That's ok though, let's just go on ahead and figure out exactly what it was you thought would be pissin' ME off, shall we?

Hmmmm...was it:"

"Jim is EXTREMELY wordy and he feels compelled to nit pick every last thing that people say ... Jim is also really, really obsessed with internet message boards incidentally, and he will regularly refer to imaginary internet message boards to fuel his nitpicking."

"Nope, that can't be it. Criticizing me of long winded retorts and nitpicking everything someone says while you then embark on a 7 paragraph quote quest nitpicking everything I say in long winded fashion? Fail. Not to mention, you'd be singing a different tune if my long winded promo material was uploaded as a Motherfucker, amirite? Yeah, shut up. For the record, what the fuck is a message board and what possible relevance does it have to two men shooting hype videos in professional wrestling? I don't know, maybe next time provide at LEAST some form of more than likely doctored photo shop footage of these "message boards" and my mentioning of them. Otherwise...you sound like a jackass. Which, you most certainly do. Dipshit.

Oh wait, maybe it was when you tried stealing away the logic behind a guy being distracted by familial problems in his personal life as something that could NEVER possibly affect his performance in either promotional or physical competition despite the fact I've been proving that exact damn thing since, with THE best hype video content I've ever personally unleashed on the XWF airwaves. My being able to keep up now without being distracted and disheartened isn't real at all, is it Engy, and there is DEFINITELY no precedent to athletes playing worse than normal while stressing over shit going on behind the scenes. I'm wondering when it is you hit me with something piss-off-able, not easily countered and shut down. Something concrete.

It wasn't when you tried deflecting from the truth that you've been unbearable in the ego department since cheaply winning the Xtreme and King of the Ring titles by twisting it around in amateur fashion saying, "Oh what, I should've just given up?", that ain't an arguable point. It IS however the very reason both Boss Lane and The Kings took turns relinquishing your crown...because it was an embarrassment to the promotion the way King of the Ring went down. Fact. It certainly wasn't when you tried comparing two men leaving you to claim glory to my cashing in on a Universal Champion very much intending to remain on the roster BEFOREHAND, that just isn't at all a comparable situation either, that's just a desperate reach at debate. 100% positive it wasn't you saying cashing in with a 24/7 briefcase is the EASY way seeing as I earned both cases through a weeks long Lottery tournament and one hell of a 6 man rafter match at Leap of Faith...and you yourself have a case you can't POSSIBLY try to claim you won't use to cash in on someone, so...... Is it sinking in yet that your smartass snot nosed punk sassback don't ever amount to shit and you simply are NOT as clever as you think, asswipe? You ain't cool, Engy, you ain't on point. Up against me, you're the LEGITIMATE

you were only pretending to be months ago. I own you, bitch. You can't drain the thunder from that apt proclamation. I own you. As your owner I _demand_ you make a valid point! Hit me!"

”I'M JIM CAEDUS AND I'M GONNA GET REAL ANGRY AND PEDANTICALLY POINT OUT FOR AN ENTIRE PARAGRAPH OF FUCKING DIALOGUE THAT A THROW AWAY WORD ENGY USED IS THE SAME AS A WORD FROM THIS MOVIE I SAW THIS ONE TIME”.

"No, no, no...you're Engy screaming at the top of your lungs in response rage to my calmly and quietly stated fact you rip off cool shit and think no one will notice. You're pissed you can't ever squeak one past me. That's because I hate you Engy and I'd rather die than let you continue to wax legendary, intimidating and unstoppable when you ain't shit but a shady copycat cocksucker without the balls or creativity to ever make up your own awesome shit. And b-t-w, show me the other times ANYONE ever used the word "friendo" beyond or preceding No Country. Throw away word? No, stow-away word in your thieving brain you fucking hack. Get your own material or sample from shit that AIN'T remote and can't in any way be described as plagiaristic. Pussy. I don't know about pissing me off but you're damn sure doin' a damn fine job of fuckin' yourself over, ironically named Mr. Bright. Like pushing the Lyin Ass Motherfucker bit, get over it you obsessed lunatic, go stalk and assault someone's wife for my stealing your credibility while I lambaste you for waging war on quality, ya dishonorable lyin' ass motherfucker. What else you got?

How about: it's not greedy to hold onto the Xtreme strap after you earned the briefcase for holding it so long, enduring the "struggles" along the way of kicking out in 24/7 context, squashing my distracted ass and ONE. LEGIT. bout of extreme difficulty with my brother Robert Main? Nope, that don't piss me off, pretty sure I just explained why you're still a greedy prick in relaying your bullshit excuses. It also doesn't piss me off you again tried to condemn the concept of the cash-in and my "ambushing" Gabe Reno who had been shadily playing at being my friend to avoid such an occurrence to begin with and therefore deserved exactly that in response...are you saying he didn't? Are you defending the actions of a guy who isn't even ALLOWED in an XWF ring anymore, let alone to step foot in HQ? Is that what this is? Look everyone, Engy supports scheming saboteurs who piss off the boss to pink slip levels, he's a fucking traitor to the XWF! Oh, you're not a traitor? Well then you've proven you'll lie and by proxy enable the kinda douchebaggery Reno perpetrated just to make an argument...for ARGUMENT'S sake. Which is it...traitor or completely untrustworthy? Either way, you lose.

Like you lose hitting me back with "NEITHER of us can ever be wrong". Semantics. One of us is right most of the time, me. And one of us admits when he fucks up...ALSO me...WITH precedent, or did you miss the times I've recanted that Dolly wasn't 12 despite the logic that that's how her birth date info added up and admitted she was instead 13 as she so VEHEMENTLY demanded in light of not being called a fuck up who can't even keep her own age straight? How about the multiple times I admitted to fucking up and losing an important match like my rematch with Blingsteen? Yes, Engy, eat those words, boy, choke 'em down, dickwad. Not only do I disprove your every avenue of attack but I admit when I fail. You never admit to shit, you just lie...and thus far, you ain't made a single solid point.

I'll tell what does _irritate_ me though...you fucking up the same way you did with Drew, claiming I said you said something or other that, unfortunately, I didn't say. Didn't said you said what you said I said. You're wrong. You're an idiot but you won't admit it because you're pathetic. Die.

Die for your hyperbolic statements of EVERYONE is inbetween good and bad as if to say we're all gray. Well, that's just poppycock, isn't it you imbecile? You go right ahead and tell me how serial killers enter into the gray area there, genius. Enlighten us on the inherent good in someone like Jeffrey Dahmer perhaps, who from the time he was a fuckin' child with locomotive ability was chopping the heads off the neighborhood pets on up to when he was drilling holes in men's heads to turn them into his sex slaves before killing them, dismembering them and supping on dick and hand soup. Woops! On the flipside, let's discuss the humans who were so lacking of gray area allowed (or COMPLETE) darkness they gained sainthood. Ok, no luck there either, so I guess we can bring up that most people are between good and evil yet every one of them consistently leans one way or the other despite the moments of either good or evil. That all too complex to comprehend? Of course not, you'll just never admit it. Coward. Dolt.

Dolt who for some reason is acting as if the _established_ XWF99.com official site is imaginary. Dunce who says our lives don't play out on, oh, here we go again, "message boards", whatever the fuck he means by that. I beg to differ, our professional lives very MUCH play out on the internet via our promotional site as much as they do on television, it's part of the job, jag-off. For fucksake, we even have XWF99.com exclusive subscriber footage, my post Brucette rematch exploits are just ONE example...and SUBTITLED as such. Gettin' tired of tryin' to outwit me yet, nitwit?

_I_ sure am; you ain't good at it and there ain't any other bullshit you said worth bringing up with the exception of your perceived "bomb" "epiphany" that I'm insecure. How'd you gather that one, Engy? From the dozens of promos in which I myself LITERALLY said that? From the months on end I was a sad little Caedus gettin' a "Your a Fuck Up" chant from the fans?

Spoiler Alert Newsflash: Engy is in a match with Apex at War Games!!

Oh, my bad, like Engy I was only stating what everyone already knows, thinking it'll lend some amount of weight to my words. Well, I'm an idiot. Engy isn't though, no sir, not for saying I'm insecure and not for overlooking the fact my insecure ass is still KICKING ass like it _has been_ for the past year. Heh..."has been". Get used to hearing that, Dexter Bright, it'll be as inseparable in context with your name bein' dropped as Robbie's name is with Twinkie, Taco Bell and fat.

"Jim Caedus is insecure"...

...and Dexter Bright, an INCREDIBLY capable man with, regardless of the means, MANY accomplishments to be proud of on his tally sheet, including a squash win over my apparently insignificant anus...is _still_ gettin' his sac handed to him by that very. Same. Insecure. Man.

I don't give a shit if the subtext was sarcasm...you don't "love me", Dexter. You hate me. For not jerkin' you off right back in our first match promo cycle as opposed to calling you a poser. For being a human being in emotional turmoil over my one living direct family member turning his back on me and having NO patience for fake drug antics as a former addict combined with your false flattery, not "compliments". You hate me for all the times I compare how you go about argument with how Dolly Waters does it...because I'm right. You despise me for every single thing I say in defiance of your own pathetic personality. But most of all...you loathe me, Dexter. You loathe me...just for being me and (hopefully) as good as "THEY" say I am...because it takes something away from YOU every time "they" say it.

Get ready for the worst night of your life at War Games, gimp. Gonna have a whole lot more taken away from you when Apex eliminates The Motherfuckers then fights their way through to surviving the main event.

You can even write a song about it.

Douche."

::END::

"Jim Caedus, who wound up seeing he and his band of brothers in that Apex team he mentioned succeed in defeating the MFers for the record, brought to bear those very same oratory counter attack skills on live television after running for the office of presidency nearing the end of President Bright's first and only term. It was a slaughter...and Dexter Bright became the first president in American history to be impeached and executed for his dubious and anti-American actions."

"So Jim Caedus became the next president?"

"No, he stepped out of the race once he'd successfully saved the nation from President Bright, saying he had no desire for the office. He DID however recommend that all future candidates for all future elections regardless of stature now be surgically implanted with Suicide Squad head bombs sensitively rigged to explode at any involuntary biological reaction to telling a lie. It's why our country has enjoyed these last few decades known as The New Golden Age of Honesty. But...that's another lesson for another day.

Monday.

Have a great weekend kids."

::BRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIING::

::FUTURE TYPE STATIC::]]> ======€@£|)Ų$======

"Euthanizing the Bitch"

::PAUSE::

"Whoa, sorry, sorry. Forgot to enable the

]]> Instead of just plagiarizing an entire scene from a movie, I'm just reading some old shit that's open license.

Hope you don't mind.

By the by, Jimbo, should you even consider using that little case of yours, I'll carve your face off if you do. Then I'ma run it through the wash, then I'ma use it to clean my balls.

]]> <![CDATA[A Apex Story]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30131 Fri, 22 Dec 2017 22:18:47 -0800 Robert "The Omega" Main]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30131

::An Apex Story::

Listen I’ve always heard if it's freezing outside and you stick your tongue to a metal pole it will stick!

Yeah I’ve heard the same thing! I just don’t know who in their right mind would do such a thing!

Drew speaks up

You two jokesters are full of bologna! You’re full of it! Both of you!

Oh yeah?

Yup!

Robert glances at Drew for a split second then Jim

Okay then hot shot! Here is a light pole go for it! I double dare ya!

You kiddin me, Jimbo? Stick my tongue to that light pole? That's ridiculous!

Bro you’re just saying that because you know it will stick to the freaking thing! I’m right let’s just move on man!

Oh yea?

Yeah, and I double dog dare you!

Robert raises one eyebrow noticing Jimmy just used the double dog dare. Things were getting serious. The only thing Jim had left was the triple dog dare ya! Robert smirks with enjoyment!

Jimmy this is the dumbest thing in the history of ever!

Jim smiles looking over his shoulder in Robert’s direction! Robert shook his head knowing what was next!

I triple dog dare ya!

Drew and Roberts’s jaws drop both now gawking at Jim who has a smug smile draped across his face! Jim wasted little time going right for the throat!

Fine, fine! If it will make you two asshats happy I'll do it.

Drew takes a few steps forward towards the pole Drew sticks his tongue out when Robert breaks his silence!

Drew, this is a bad idea! Let’s just go in the mall!

Bobby, what kind of a man do you take me for? Jimbo here called me out, with a triple dog dare no less! I’ve got this situation under full control! It won’t stick! You're wrong!

Drew, I’m telling you don’t do this! I’ll leave your ass out here to freeze!

Can it big shot Bob I’m going in!

Drew’s back tightened as his eyes winced in a defiant sneer!

Well come on smart ass!

Drew leans in sticking his tongue to the light pole in the parking lot of the mall! Robert and Jim both cross their arms watching as Drew tries pulling away but is frozen in place! In the grip of speechless silence panic suddenly set in! Drew became wild-eyed as his pupils dilated! Robert and Jim watched as Drew’s heart began racing, his brain on fire! Drew began flapping his arms around wildly! The look on Drew’s face was one of uncertainty, like a cluster bomb exploding in his brain, turning his brains into a mental soup of conflicting directions, his brain frosted over locked in place! Jim shrugs laughing out loud!

We fuckin told you!

Drew speaks but is muffled

Ha, Ha, Ha, guys really funny! Now get me the heck off of here before some kids come by and start hitting me with snowballs like in that movie...

Sure thing man! We’ve just got to go inside! We’ll be right back!

Jimbo, Bobby! Wait! Hey, guys wait!

What?

Hey get me some Ovaltine!

Da heck is Ovaltine?

Hey we will be right back! Hang in there would ya?

Jim and Robert begin walking towards the mall

Wait a second!

Jim what you....? Oh, no..... That's classic!

Jim depants Drew as Robert shakes his head laughing! Drew tries to pull his pants up but cannot reach them because of his tongue attached to the pole.

Now we can go in!

They're not coming back, are they?

::One Hour Later::

You think Drew is pissed off at us man?

He’s just going to try and get even! That is where we both should be worried!

We tried to tell the guy!...... Why in the hell are we in line for Santa?

Uh…..Well….. Drew kind of believes in him still!

Your serious?

Jimmy, have I ever lied to you about anything?

No!

Just play it cool when he gets in here! I mean fuck with him some!

Oh, you know I will!

He wants a Red Rider BB Gun!

He will shoot his eye out day freaking one!

I said the same thing, man! Jim, honest question here!

Okay shoot!

What’s your honest opinion on our match at War Games? I really want you to look at that camera right there that Floyd is holding and hold nothing back! Tell Robbie Bourbon what you think of him! Tell that scum warrior BWB! That's bearded war bitch folks, what you think he is really capable of in the ring! Hit Engy with everything you got. Tell these clowns Jim!

Engy Trying To Get His Point Across
[Image: giphy.gif]

Shit bro, I'm always honest. Takes balls to be honest. In fact...let's talk about honesty and courage in context with the Mothercuckers, shall we?

Let's talk about how Robbie Bourbon devolved from an actual fat body man of the people who never had need of dishonesty to the lower life form of a nutless, talentless coward who realizes he's now so far out of his league...as UNIVERSAL CHAMPION...all he can do between his average 8 meals a day is lie through his fuckin' teeth through spray and pray pussy tactics and invent fake news to mudsling. Let's discuss the reality of this "racism" situation which actually kicked off between the two of us in a locker room debate when I started having second thoughts about being a part of that revolving door o' douchebags, something I fully expected Robbie to drop on my ass at some point during this hype cycle. Something there is NO way to prove as no cameras were present at the time, my own accusing him of lies via quoting a decade and a half old joke belonging to Chris Rock, a black man, which he saw as racist because I'm a white guy saying it. Reverse racist rotund

. Let's delve a bit further into how Robbie then decided to levy the racism label at you, brother, and Drew...with absolutely zero precedent behind it...then let's go ahead and point out how Robbie believes himself to be devoid of racism despite the fact the only black man he can truly stand having around him is Cyberjaw, clearly a guy with some mental slowdown most likely borne from heavy drug use, a black man who not only in no way defines "threatening" as Robbie's suburban bitch ass knows the word but is easily manipulated, bossed around and passively insulted through Robbie's smartass glances and lopsided smiles into the lens alluding to his lack of respect for his token black friend and his words in man cave Bourbon family basement promo. Let's take into account that if Robbie truly enjoyed and embraced black culture he wouldn't utilize Cyberjaw like a fuckin' sideshow freak to make all the whiteboys laugh, racist scumbag sack o' shit. Rob, you haven't the first clue what it means to be devoid of racism as a white man you pathetic plump pussy. I grew up and spent 32 years in Long Beach among 3 sizeable crip cliques, spent every damn day kickin it with them, we all came up together, worked liccs together, got faded and drunk together, nailed hoodrat snatch together. Notice how my wigganess bleeds through my personality. Ain't no one else on this roster an example of white and black America combined like I am. That's because I genuinely adore them and their culture, cocksucker...and you? You treat them like you do everyone else...as tools to be used to further your own laughably deflated career. Robbie, not only am I gonna fuck you up in that ring for accusing my brothers of what YOU are sincerely guilty of but I'm gonna knock your fuckin' teeth out for YOUR despicably deplorable TRUTHFUL despising of the African-American.

As for Pig, fuck Pig. Joshua Hatred you're lucky anyone is ever willing to team with you, you're a fucking joke. Ain't shit but a creepy dullard and transitional twat TV champ on top o' bein' an inch away from psycho jarhead rapist and literal

droppin' trou' like a 12-year-old with down syndrome. You're an embarrassment to the XWF, Battle Sow, in every possible way. Takin' your leave whenever you feel the inclination like you're Steve fuckin Austin skipping away with the ball, or Brock Lesnar's feckless neckless diva ass walkin' out at the drop of a bruised ego...but you ain't either of those names, numbnuts, you're Bearded War Pig, a no one who only succeeds in pissin' off the few fans you have, the brass and the roster by screwin' up line-ups and takin' a dump on convenience. You can't be counted on, you can't be trusted, go fuck yourself. You ain't tough, bitch, you ain't intimidating and nothing you've done or said has meant shit to anyone. Do us all a favor and leave. Don't come back, the XWF DOESN'T NEED a man who treats this all like a fair weather concept, petunia, the XWF needs men and women who can hack it without hackin' it up. A comic book by the way? Is that what you call clever? Forcing everyone watching to SIT IN SILENCE AND READ A COMIC BOOK ON CAMERA!? Jesus Christ, kill yourself piglet, you ain't shit but bad ideas and lack of commitment.

And finally, Engy... Nice to see you haven't changed up,

. Good to know you're the same all-too-Dolly-Waters-like sack o' lies and spineless bitchassery. What was it you said to Drew? "OK, yeah, I accused you of things you never said but I was addressing what was UNSAID."

Both Main and Jim erupt with laughter.

You unbelievably childish pussy, HOW CAN A 37-YEAR-OLD MAN BE SO AFRAID TO OWN HIS OWN FUCKUPS when you LET ME OWN YOU by using MY label for your dishonest cowardly ass!? That's ALL you do, Engy, you REFUSE to listen, to PAY ATTENTION, to RESEARCH and put effort into ACCURACY and you pop off at the mouth with words you inevitably gotta suck back down. You're pathetic. You make me fuckin' sick. No Engy, you weren't addressing what was UNSAID because...Drew ain't a bitch, he says what he wants to say and has no need to sugar coat or deceive. You just fucked up. Period; because that's what you are, a fuck up. A fuck-up who fluked a squash on me, and I shoulda walked the fuck outta here because of it but unlike Dolly Waters and Danny Imperial, I'm a fuckin' true competitor who can take life's shit and keep on kickin'. People fear you here...I ain't one of 'em. In fact, you ain't on my list of opponents that make me nervous, you're on the long list of arrogant dickhead hacks who irritate me and can very much look forward to getting their puckered asses handed back after I've kicked 'em around like the fuckin double-meaning hacky-sacks they are. You ain't no champ, no king of the XWF, you're a fraud. A phony. You ain't shit and neither are your promos or in-ring ability. Fuck what you've done, you know goddamn well I'm better than you, we BOTH know you fear CAEDUS and for good reason...I'm not gonna rest until I've beaten the last drop of will you have to be here outta you,

. You deserve it like you deserve a point-blank shotgun blast in the fuckin' mouth. And by the way...if you're gonna tell someone to try harder after they legit shut one of your partners down with a SINGLE fuckin fake preview...you might wanna live what you preach as opposed to barely showing the fuck up thus far while I've been in nigh every goddamn one o' my brother's promos. As usual...what you say means NOTHING you hypocritical loser.

Robert noticed as they moved closer to Santa the brilliant smell of gingerbread! Robert and Jim could see a table filled to the brim with gingerbread men. The Gingerbread men were lined up by the dozens and every one of them had a very different facial expression. Their limbs had the look of a soft baked cookie rather than the biscuity creations Robert used to make with his family when he was a child!

Excuse me! Pardon me! Got to see that jolly jerkoff Santa!

Shit here comes Drew!

This ought to be good!

Pushes his way through the line stopping at Jim and Robert.

Thanks, guys!

What's wrong? Drew?

Oh I don't know Jim! Two dick heads left me in the parking lot attached to a pole with my pants down! Other than that I'm just peachy!

Drew how in the hell did you get loose?

Drew sneers at Robert then Jim

Well finally after a few tries a lady poured her babies bottle on my tongue releasing me. It was a real blast trying to get someone to help me not thinking I'm an absolute lunatic!

That's halirous!

Don't worry Jimmy! I'll get my payback! Believe that. Anyway, what are you guys doing?

I just hit The Mother Fuckers! Rob, here was about to say something!

I was going to bomb The Mother Fuckers again but why? I'm so sick of the back and forth. If I have to watch another short Robbie Bourbon promo I might just throw up! Or another Engy, cut and paste! To me every time we see Engy cut a promo he's using lines from those old Theo Price promos he did a while back! I might just be me though! That being said though I'm going to take this time to address the other competitors we might be facing in the finals, and we will be in the finals! Graves I'm going to start this off with you! Now I'm not going to come out and attack you! We were formally brothers, I will though be open and honest with you! Here I thought you were retired moving off into the sunset! Now you have yet again blown the dust off your old wrestling boots coming back looking to make a statement! I applaud your courage, I admire your will to compete in the ring! In a weird way, I look up to you! I look at you and I see a legend among men! I see a fighter! I want to wish you only good luck and maybe we will see you in the finals! Seeing how you were the only man smart enough to point out the fact that we APEX will be at a strict disadvantage if we do make it to the finals! We will walk right back into the fire with no time to get healed up or rest! You are very correct, but even though that might be the case we will prevail! We are the best team in War Games and we will win the whole damn thing! Oh, and one last thing, Graves if it for whatever reason comes down to you or a member of APEX I will put you down and out!

Moving on Erik Black?

Robert looks confused

Who the hell is Erik Black?

Uh..... Former Television Champion!

Oh that's right he was! Tough son of a bitch! He was a buzz saw until he ran into the former champion Sinclair! Not worried about him! Let's talk about who else I'm not worried about what so ever! JENNY MYST! Nothing like saying the same damn thing over and over again! Nothing like a woman's touch huh? Please and feel free to never ever touch the Omega! I don't want herpes! You know you telling the world you are a champion in a division with no one else in it and telling us how many times Chris Chaos has been screwed gets old! if it wasn't for the female voice Jenny I would have thought you were Chris Chaos speaking! One would think, if Chris was screwed as many times as the two of you claim, he would have struck oil by now! But then that little promo took a turn you decided to go after me a little bit! Funny! What did I ever do to you darling? I think I remember you calling me unproven! Sure at the time when Jimmy and I hooked up and created that other stable I was unproven! I did, after all, beat Chris Chaos and Gabe Reno damn near single handily! I'm a two time Hart Champion now! Unproven not even close! Then everyone piles on Drew here! Give the man a chance to show what he can do, before all the judgment huh! If you only knew what he was capable of you'd back down right now! Last but least Jenny I did bounce on AX3 but do you or anyone else know why? Has anyone ever really asked that question before?

Everyone just assumes I left! I left because I needed some time to regroup, I needed time to think about everything that was swirling around me! Bu the biggest reason I left for a while because of Chris Chaos! I could not stand him! I still cannot stand him! He is nothing more than a whining bitch always telling the world how he was screwed! 90% of the time Chris wasn't screwed, he just lost the match and was not damn man enough to admit to it! So he made excuses! Same then same now! Being aligned with such an egotistical ass hole just didn't work for me! Jenny the dime store bitch looking for her next free ride! Well, here's a news flash we won't give it to you!

Peter Gilmour! My god man how about you do a little more research in those promos before you go opening your mouth huh? That promo you cut, had more holes in it than a slice of swiss cheese! We are not AX3 dickless wonder we are APEX! You said you wanted The Hart Champion Danny Imperial! He ass hole can you not watch the matches that are on the same card as you? Or can you not read what happened a day later! I'm the Champion now! Robert the Omega Main! What a fucking joke man come on! Get up with the times or get the hell out altogether! Pay attention to what is going on all around you dip shit!

Finn Kühn what's there to say about this kid! I just hope he shows up for the match!

Chris Chaos.... Ugh.... See Jenny Myst! "Some Men Just Want To Watch The World Burn"! Now where in the hell have I heard that before?

[Image: giphy.gif]

::An Apex Story::

::One Hour Later::

Doc awesome! Though you did have a few choice words for us! "Best Intrest Boluvard" that could not be further from the truth right there! By the way, where are the Kings? Dismantled and forgotten!

Michael McBride see Peter Gilmour's ass! Butt buddies until the end!

Neville Sinclair best damn Television Champion of all time!

Phantom Panzer, I like you, not in that way either buddy!

James Raven! G.O.A.T. GREATEST OF ALL TIME!

Now if there is anyone and I mean anyone I didn't mention, it's either because I don't give a shit about you, or you have done nothing at all to gain any of my attention!

Robert looks to Drew who seems excited!

Drew you ready to see Santa?

You know it! I'm asking for a Red Rider BB Gun and some soap. What are you guys asking for?

I'm not asking for anything Drew! You're not going to go up there and sit on his lap, are you?

Uh... Bobby don't you get how this whole thing works! I sit in his lap I ask for my gift boom!

Oh this is going to be amazing! Floyd film everything and don't stop no matter what happens!

Why is this going to be amazing Jimmy?

What if I told you Santa wasn't real Drew?

Jim come on man, we both know that isn't true!

Drew I want you to look into the camera and tell our opponents just what they are in store for come War Games hurry because there are only a few people in front of us in line!

Pain.

That it?

Disappointment.

Are you just fucking with me because of that pole thing?

Maybe. Look what do you want me to say that I haven't said a hundred times already? Bearded War Pig is going to keep taking the hits for Robbie Bourbon and try and make everything dick and fart jokes. Throw in some comments about violence and blowing his load all over our faces. It's basically the same thing with Pig every single time he opens his mouth. The guy is a one trick pony if there ever was one. And once the match is over and Robbie tells him to go back into his hole until he's needed again he'll go and take out his frustrations by screaming at a bunch of children while getting his ass handed to him in Call of Duty.

Ever since that James Raven guy, whoever the fuck he is, showed up you can see that it threw Robbie for a loop. He was already starting to break under the weight of it all. You could see it in his eyes and with his labored breathing that the gravity of the situation was starting to weigh on him. Every time he opened his mouth something undermining to his cause would come out. He would try and stand up there at his podium and preach how he and his crew are the darkness in the light. The voice of the voiceless, the champion of the people and then one by one his buddies would cut promos doing the very things he would accuse us of. Word to the wise there Rob, it really helps if you get all your guys on the same page and present a united front before you all go out there and start showing your individualized agendas. Honestly, Robbie have you been paying attention at all to what your guys have been saying? It's actually amusing to watch you and your team light yourselves on fire each and every day. But you know what they say, people just can't turn away from a train wreck. They have innate need to see the disaster and boy are we seeing just that. With each passing promo, the Motherfuckers bury themselves deeper and deeper in the muck.

Which brings me to Engy, not even a few hours after Robbie Bourbon talks about how the fix is in, in the Motherfuckers favor that is here comes Engy to drop a nuclear bomb right on Robbie's whole narrative. Look it's real simple Engy when you are a selfish dickhead like Robbie Bourbon you are going to make some enemies along the way and one of those enemies is James Raven. Now apparently James has decided to insert himself into this match. He has an axe to grind and I guess Robbie's head is on the chopping block. Unfortunate for you but I suppose that works in our favor. But here's the thing that Engy doesn't seem to understand. As hard as he tries to make the world seem like it's black and white, good versus evil. The world is very much gray. And that's where Apex fits into the grand scheme.

Robbie can keep telling anyone he will listen that he's a good guy, that the fans love him and his band of brothers but as they say actions speak louder than words. His actions and that of the Motherfuckers have never been of the altruistic variety. Hell Robbie can't even protect his own people like Engy. Where were the Mother Fuckers at when The Kings took Engy's crown and embarrassed him on national television? The Kings were out there for a while. Plenty of time for Robbie to waddle his fat ass down to the ring with Pig in toe to try and save their friend but instead they hung him out to dry.

And where were Robbie and Pig when I supposedly "cheap shooted" Engy a few weeks back? Typically they were absent. So while Engy continues to sell his loyalty and to a degree his soul to Robbie, Robbie offers nothing in return except some hollow words and scraps at the pre-show buffet. It's not our fault that Robbie has burned bridges with people and now the crows are coming home to roost. Sure we could appeal to James softer side and tell him that we would rather do this on our own, which we would by the way. And who knows, we may still, but I am also not one to stop a guy from extracting his revenge if he so wishes to do so. That's not my job. My job is to go out there and win a wrestling match. If Robbie's own words and actions come back to bite him in the ass well then that's on him. Engy and Pig should take that up with him. He put them in this situation. Not us. Whether we capitalize on that or not is a different story entirely.

Hey man we're up! Go on and tell Santa what you want for Christmas!

Jim and Robert share a laugh as Drew walks down the aisle past a few elves and takes a seat on an unsuspecting Santa's lap.

Well hello there young man. You seem a little old to be sitting on Santa's lap.

Is that age discrimination I hear?

No of course night young man. Tell Santa, have you been a good boy this year?

Well I was in prison for most of the year so you know how that goes but I've been out a few weeks and on my best behavior if that counts for anything.

Prison? Are you having a laugh with me son?

Whoa old man! I don't know who my father is but I'm pretty sure you ain't him!

Ok ok. I have a long line as you can see so how about you tell Santa what it is you want for Christmas.

A Red Rider BB Gun. And some soap. Specifically Dial. That off-brand shit gives me a rash.

A Red Rider BB Gun and some Dial Soup. Well, the one I can give you right now, the other you'll have to check under your tree for on Christmas morning.

Sounds good Santa. You know where I live right? In a box under the bridge in Chicago? Lot 511. It's the box with the big A taped to it.

You're homeless?

Hey I got a home! It's a beautiful double wide box.

I understand. Well if you head on over there to Mrs. Claus she will hand you a Red Rider BB Gun. Thank you for coming to see me, son!

Drew climbs off Santa's lap and heads over to the portly Mrs. Claus who is already standing there with the requested BB Gun in hand. As Drew takes hold of the gun Jim and Robert make their way past the line and meet Drew on the other side as Drew starts inspecting every inch of the gun.

You think this thing is loaded?

Drew asks as he starts shaking it up and down trying to hear if there are any BB's inside. Drew inadvertently points the gun towards the crowd of people while he looks down the gun's scope.

You can't point that thing at people man!

Jim says as he slaps the gun.

PING!!!

SCREAMS!!!

CHAOS!!!!

Santa Claus is down on the ground grabbing at his eye as Mrs. Claus rushes to her husband's side.

Oh shit!

We better get the fuck outta here!

He just shot Santa in the face!!

The three members of Apex all bolt towards the exit. They get about halfway there when Drew realizes that in the panic he dropped the BB gun on the ground. He attempts to go back for it but Jim and Robert grab him by the arms and drag him towards the door.]]> <![CDATA[A final half assed holiday "effort"]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30130 Fri, 22 Dec 2017 22:14:10 -0800 The Engineer]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30130 Ya know, there is only so long you can do this shit before it starts to take on an air of redundancy...

The Engineer is sitting back in a wooden chair, front two legs lifted just slightly off the ground. Before him is a bottle of pills with the label torn off. His eyes are half lidded, and indeed...he does seem...erm....medicated.

We've cut a combined total of what....25 promo's....30's promo's? And after a while, all the shit sounds the same. Cheap shots. Endless hours of dialogue. It's the fuckin' HOLIDAYS people, what the fuck are we doin'?! Go wrap some presents or drink some eggnog or what the fuck ever. I just met my son, so yeah, I'm finally in my life going to have the same kind of Christmas everybody else gets: one full of simmering resentment.

I don't want to cut anymore promos. But I have to. Because according to Jim Caedus it wins matches. Like, directly. I feel my muscles grow bigger with each word. Maybe if I cut just one more it'll increase the size of a certain other part of my anatomy. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's big enough already. But maybe I can go for carnival freakshow size. Jim's dick must be HUGE.

I see you guys have noticed that the Motherfuckers haven't done much “joint” promo work. Which apparently means we are not a cohesive unit. Right.

Engy puffs his cheeks out in exasperation. He then pushes them back in with his hands, making a bronx cheer sound.

I guess that would make sense if.....oh shit, what's this? A CELL PHONE?!

Engy does pull out his cell phone.

WHAT DOES THIS DO?!

Engy makes a show of pressing a button on the phone. He puts the phone on speaker. It rings a few times, and finally Bearded War Pig answers.

What's up brother?

Hey Pig, I just realized something. We have not done enough joint promo's and Apex is gonna roll us because of it.

Are you takin' the piss?

No, I am serious.

Brother, you me and Robbie have talked strategy on the phone I can't even tell you how many goddamn times. In fact, it's gotten pretty inconvenient. I am, at this very moment, sitting on a public shitter as I finish my Christmas shopping.

Oh, what are you buying?

Guns. For everyone.

Stupid question I suppose. Hey man, pinch off a good one. Sorry for bothering you.

It's all good. Depending on how fiber rich my diet has been today, I'm gonna try to name each turd after a member of Apex. I might even push out a Raven if I'm lucky. Later, brother.

Later.

Engy turns the phone off and holds it up, gesturing at it.

And there you have it. Because while you guys have been spending endless hours pretending your the writing cast and crew of Saturday Night Live, spending every waking moment with each other, Robbie Bourbon, The Engineer, and Bearded War Pig have been confidently living our lives. Training. Protecting the innocent in Robbie's case. And just generally being US. Not some try hard sketch comedy show. US. Living our lives and not some filmed facsimile of our lives. “Hey Bobby's dad, can you hold the cell phone for me while I cut a promo and fight off this grizzly bear that's about to conveniently appear?” “Sure you strapping young man, there is NOTHING contrived about this at all.”

You know what you guys really remind me of though? A new couple. It's adorable really. Everything is just so fresh and you have to be with each other all the time because you're just SO IN LOVE. But in reality its just the initial thrush of endorphins, a chemical falsity that will wear off in time. It's saccharine. And nauseating. The couple that cares so much about what the Joneses think that they slather on these fake smiles and hold hands all the time and pepper each other with compliments to shout it to the roof tops that you are just so into each other.

It just hit me. You boys are the Tom Cruise Oprah Winfrey couch jump of pro wrestling teams.

[Image: 20050523-tows-tom-cruise-2-600x411-14322...&width=980]

[Image: 20050523-tows-tom-cruise-2-600x411-14322...&width=980]

“I AM SO IN LOVE MORE IN LOVE THAN ANYONE ELSE EVER AND THIS IS TOTALLY NOT AN ARRANGED MARRIAGE BY A FREAKY SPACE CULT AND I AM NOT GAY!”

That's what you guys remind me of.

So then what does that make The Motherfuckers?

Engy drops the two front legs of the chair down and almost loses his balance. He throws his hands out to right himself, and once equilibrium has been attained he continues.

We are the crotchety old married couple. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Been married since the goddamn gilded age. The sex isn't as frequent, that sucks. The conversation ain't all that often either. He goes to play poker with the boys every chance he gets. She goes bowling with the girls or watches QVC all on her lonesome. And on the surface, it APPEARS broken....even dysfunctional. But look deeper.

The conversation, the constant hand holding, the endless proclamations of love...none of it is there because it doesn't need to be. These are two human beings who know each other inside and out. A look. A wince. They're beyond verbalizing their needs, they just KNOW. Him in the barcalounger reading the paper. Her on the other side of the living room knitting. The love is there. It's not all hot and bothered love, but it's there. And it runs deep. They don't need to be with each other 24/7, hopping on couches or scripting complex scenes to force a laugh and the image of camaraderie. They know the other isn't going anywhere. Nobody else will take them. Kidding. No, it's because that level of comfort and trust is there. And it's unshakeable. And it's not accountable to the world or anyone else. It just is. Separation is ok because at the end of the day they end up at the same place. Him with the paper. Her with the knitting. No talking. Just being.

Ya feel me?

These pills are makin' me maudlin. Fuckers.

Engy swats the pills off the table with the back of his hand.

But for real guys. It's been a hell of a ride. And it ain't over. You think War Games is the finale? You should know me better than that. We're gonna be doin' this dance a good long time if I got anything to say about it. And I do. Because it turns out I'm kind of a big deal around here after all.

So you may be asking yourselves, “Engy, where the fuck is this last minute bit of senseless whargarble going?” Well my friends, it's going somewhere nobody asked for.

Because I took out a loan.

And I got us.....

JIM CAEDUS' HOUSE OF DRUGS PART DEUX

The shot opens up on the same scraggly haired vagrant who played Jim Caedus in the first House of Drugs sketch. Except this time there is no run down drug shop to be found. No, because this time Jim is seated in a moldering double wide mobile home, and he is surrounded by computer screens. He pulls closed the sweat stained bath robe he's wearing and chugs from a 2 liter of Mountain Dew. He drops the drained bottle to the floor, where it joins a gathering pile of other soda bottles.

EXCEPT THIS AIN'T A HOUSE OF DRUGS NO MORE! No sirree, I got myself cleaned up and now I'm just addicted to the internet.

Whoops, our bad.

JIM CAEDUS' HOUSE OF INTERNET.

I stay up all day and all night to watch for my opponent's posting on message board's so I got material on them for my promo's. And you know what I found....LYING HACKERY EVERYWHERE!

He stabs a finger back at one of the screens.

LOOK AT THIS SHIT!

He beckons you over to look at the screen. In front of him on the screen is, the local weather. He looks back at us, wild eyed and insane.

The XWF message board and look here....look here goddammit! Engy's posting!

Jim clicks a link that brings him to another screen, a local news story about volunteers bringing puppies to visit seniors at Christmas time.

Oh that FUCKER! Do you see this shit?! Engy used the word “FRIENDO”! COPYWRIGHT VIOLATOR! FLIM FLAMMER! BETTE DAVIS!

He starts clicking around the screen, and pulls down his list of bookmarked sites. He scrolls down the list until he finds “PornHub” and opens that. A graphic sex act explodes onto the screen.

Bearded War Pig is cutting this promo but I KNOW THE TRUTH! THIS IS NOT HOW SEX WORKS!

He lurches forward, eyeball to screen as a big black dick pushes in and out of a woman's asshole.

It's in complete defiance of all physical and natural law! FAKERY! DECEPTION! BOB ODENKIRK!

Jim frantically reaches for a drawer and pulls out a can of that pressurized keyboard cleaner. He sticks the hose up his nostril and presses down on the button, shooting a jet of the chemical compound directly up his sinuses. He sticks a finger up to one nostril and blows, blowing snot out.

That hit the spot. Okay, I'm cool now, I'm cool. Whew. It's hard bein' Jim Caedus. Bein' angry all the time, blowin' my stack over an improper use of the past participle or a screen name handle that Engy changed after I pointed out-him-lying-about-it-only-to-change-it-to-another-admission-of-lying which-renders-my-entire-point-moot-and-does-this-run-on-sentence-have-too-many-hyphens-no-thats-abusrd-you-can-never-have-too-many...?

Look, it doesn't matter. I'll just handwave away any thoroughly effective counter arguments he makes as “debating like a child” and completely bypass how he fucking humiliated me over my deluded obsession with internet phenomena that doesn't exist. Or my flagrant excuse making that my brother hurting my fee-fee's cost me our match. Which reminds me....

He spins back around to the computer and slaps his mighty meathook like fists down on the keyboard. He goes to Youtube now, where a video appears front and center of a kitten batting at the bottom of a Christmas tree.

OH ENGY YOU ABSOLUTE FUCK! LOOK AT IT!

Jim forcefully pulls the camera up to the screen. The adorable kitten mewls and paws an ornament off the tree.

TRYIN' TO DROP ON ME BEFORE DEADLINE I SEE! AND LOOK AT THAT! I GOT YOU NOW YOU UNORIGINAL, UNCREATIVE....

He takes another huff of the keyboard cleaner.

....THAT IS THE EXACT SEMI-COLON THAT SAUL BELLOW USED ON PAGE 47 IN HUMBOLDT'S GIFT! What, you didn't think I was that well read, huh? FIEND! CHEATER! CONMAN! JIM CAE-oh, wait, that's me.

I....I'm startin' to feel a little light headed....

Jim's eyes go crosseyed and he abruptly passes out, faceplanting on the nearest keyboard. The resulting pressure on the keys then starts to type out the dialogue to his last promo. Whoa, META!

Back to reality...

Engy is still sitting at the same table as before. His face is a mask of pain. Madison is now standing next to him, holding the bottle of pills he knocked on the floor before. She's shaking her head.

So you totally took out a loan for that, huh?

Yes. Now please give me those pills.

Madison twists the lid off and upends it, demonstrating that all the pills are gone.

....shit.

I cant imagine how this could come back and bite you in the ass.

Thankfully, I can't either.

”Jim Caedus” then bursts into the scene.

OH, SO YOU'RE USING FORESHADOWING NOW, HUH? WAY TO RIP OFF EVERY PIECE OF MEDIA EVER! REPROBATE! FALSE PROPHET! DEVIL! STEVE BANNON....actually, that one kinda makes sense....

Madison punches “Jim” in the dick and he drops like a sack of hammers.

I totally would have done that if I could move.

Madison puts an arm around Engy.

I know dear, now lets go watch the Charlie Brown Christmas special and bake our faces off.

The shot pulls back from this heartwarming scene (which now also includes “Jim” vomiting on the floor as he clutches his groin) and finally fades to....

[Image: FyMYTncLrw-1.png]

OOC: Happy holidays to all you bastards. Get drunk. Open presents. Smoke 'em if you got 'em. I love you all.]]> Ya know, there is only so long you can do this shit before it starts to take on an air of redundancy...

The Engineer is sitting back in a wooden chair, front two legs lifted just slightly off the ground. Before him is a bottle of pills with the label torn off. His eyes are half lidded, and indeed...he does seem...erm....medicated.

We've cut a combined total of what....25 promo's....30's promo's? And after a while, all the shit sounds the same. Cheap shots. Endless hours of dialogue. It's the fuckin' HOLIDAYS people, what the fuck are we doin'?! Go wrap some presents or drink some eggnog or what the fuck ever. I just met my son, so yeah, I'm finally in my life going to have the same kind of Christmas everybody else gets: one full of simmering resentment.

I don't want to cut anymore promos. But I have to. Because according to Jim Caedus it wins matches. Like, directly. I feel my muscles grow bigger with each word. Maybe if I cut just one more it'll increase the size of a certain other part of my anatomy. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's big enough already. But maybe I can go for carnival freakshow size. Jim's dick must be HUGE.

I see you guys have noticed that the Motherfuckers haven't done much “joint” promo work. Which apparently means we are not a cohesive unit. Right.

Engy puffs his cheeks out in exasperation. He then pushes them back in with his hands, making a bronx cheer sound.

I guess that would make sense if.....oh shit, what's this? A CELL PHONE?!

Engy does pull out his cell phone.

WHAT DOES THIS DO?!

Engy makes a show of pressing a button on the phone. He puts the phone on speaker. It rings a few times, and finally Bearded War Pig answers.

What's up brother?

Hey Pig, I just realized something. We have not done enough joint promo's and Apex is gonna roll us because of it.

Are you takin' the piss?

No, I am serious.

Brother, you me and Robbie have talked strategy on the phone I can't even tell you how many goddamn times. In fact, it's gotten pretty inconvenient. I am, at this very moment, sitting on a public shitter as I finish my Christmas shopping.

Oh, what are you buying?

Guns. For everyone.

Stupid question I suppose. Hey man, pinch off a good one. Sorry for bothering you.

It's all good. Depending on how fiber rich my diet has been today, I'm gonna try to name each turd after a member of Apex. I might even push out a Raven if I'm lucky. Later, brother.

Later.

Engy turns the phone off and holds it up, gesturing at it.

And there you have it. Because while you guys have been spending endless hours pretending your the writing cast and crew of Saturday Night Live, spending every waking moment with each other, Robbie Bourbon, The Engineer, and Bearded War Pig have been confidently living our lives. Training. Protecting the innocent in Robbie's case. And just generally being US. Not some try hard sketch comedy show. US. Living our lives and not some filmed facsimile of our lives. “Hey Bobby's dad, can you hold the cell phone for me while I cut a promo and fight off this grizzly bear that's about to conveniently appear?” “Sure you strapping young man, there is NOTHING contrived about this at all.”

You know what you guys really remind me of though? A new couple. It's adorable really. Everything is just so fresh and you have to be with each other all the time because you're just SO IN LOVE. But in reality its just the initial thrush of endorphins, a chemical falsity that will wear off in time. It's saccharine. And nauseating. The couple that cares so much about what the Joneses think that they slather on these fake smiles and hold hands all the time and pepper each other with compliments to shout it to the roof tops that you are just so into each other.

It just hit me. You boys are the Tom Cruise Oprah Winfrey couch jump of pro wrestling teams.

[Image: 20050523-tows-tom-cruise-2-600x411-14322...&width=980]

OOC: Happy holidays to all you bastards. Get drunk. Open presents. Smoke 'em if you got 'em. I love you all.]]> <![CDATA[A Night With Neville]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30126 Fri, 22 Dec 2017 22:01:37 -0800 Jenny Myst]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30126 "I am so glad you decided to stop in Vegas on your way to Japan" Jenny said, sipping on her Sangria under the shaded porch of the Vegas-strip cafe. She had on a pair of Dolce and Gabanna sunglasses, a halter top and Chanel leggings. Her feet, simple sandals she got at Wal-Mart. She never understood why people spent so much money on things designed to get all dirty and beat up.

Across from her sat Neville Sinclair, the current XWF Television Champion and the man who made that division what it is today. He had on a dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. In the Vegas heat he unbuttoned the top button where a gold chain was exposed. He had on dress pants and fancy leather shoes. He looked proper.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world m'lady. We are competitors in that ring but until this event is over, we are team mates, family."

She smiled again. He took a sip of his Scotch.

"In that ring, we need to be cohesive.We need to be a unit. It's kinda not fair that Robbie is our captain now.....you know he's playing both sides of the fence."

"I knew he did anyway."

"Hahaha.....there is that English wit!"

The waiter was hovering around, waiting for Jenny to need a refill. He was a bit weary though, as he didn't know the situation, and was accustomed to seeing her there with Chris.

He had an eye cocked, maybe she was cheating. Maybe this was her handsome side piece with a charming accent.

"We already know that Bourbon only cares about the Motherfuckers.....he will stick a knife in our back any chance he gets."

"So we need to stick together."

"Exactly."

She swirled the bottom of her drink, and signaled to the waiter. He was over with a refill quickly.

"What I am trying to understand is why you reached out to hang out with me."

"I just felt it would be nice to be on the same page all the way around. Plus, we can teach each other things outside the ring."

Jenny had big plans for Neville. She was going to show him how she lived. She was going to show him, so he fully understood, that her pain translated into pure dominance. Sometimes when you understand a person's background, you can understand their actions. Once you see a persons background, their present becomes more clear.

As does their future.

"I have a whole night planned for us, Neville. I want to show you the life of the perfect one. Where I came from, what I do.......and maybe you could show me....."

"What would Chris think?"

"Not that, Neville. I meant your life....ugh....whatever....."

Jenny was going to show Neville a good time. Take him out on the town, but also tes him. He always wants to teach lessons to his opponents, well she had some lessons for him. And if she was lucky, the other way around.

This man had so much wisdom to give but Jenny felt like for him to fully trust her, he had to fully understand her.

"So I made some phone calls and we are going to head over to the Aurora Club later."

He sipped his scotch, unphased.

"And we will go up and down the strip. Lets just get drunk. People tend to know each other the best when they are drunk."

The streets were buzzing in Vegas, as usual. Neville seemed to not be affected by the Scotch at all, he drank it like water.

"The car should be here soon....."

He nodded.

"So tell me, blondie, how do you do it?"

"Mmmm?"

"Brush it all off.....keep your cool. How do you manage to go through life with all of the criticism you have and stay so calm, cool, and collected? I've always admired that."

She smiled for a moment before answering.

"I don't. I just let it bottle up internally and then I take it all out on my opponent. I have learned how to battle with my emotions and my inner demons and bring it all together into one package."

"Remarkable".

Jenny signaled for the check. The waiter nodded. The luxury town car that would be transporting them pulled up outside the cafe.

"I have a feeling that this match is going to come down to you and I."

"You don't trust Peter?"

"I don't trust Robbie. Peter may be the first one to go due to his and Robbie's history."

"Damnit."

"We need to watch each others backs but we need to make sure Peter stays upright also."

"Communication is key."

The car pulled up, and Jenny slipped her black Amex into the check booklet.

"What are you doing m'lady?"

"Ummm.....paying so we can get the fuck out of here and start our adventure."

Neville shook his head, picking up the check booklet and taking Jenny's card out. He set it on the table.

"It wouldn't be gentlemanly to allow you to pay.......the man always pays. It is just proper."

Jenny smiled, but then shook her head. She took the booklet back from Neville, took his cash out, and put her card back in.

"Really Neville, I've got it. I'm treating you."

He takes the booklet, takes her card out, and puts his cash back in.

"Jen.....I insist."

This went back and forth about three more times. The waiters eyes followed as if was watching a slow motion ping pong match. The transport car beeped its horn.

"Are you questioning me as an independent woman who can take care of herself?"

"Are you questioning me as proper gent with manors?"

After a few more times of passing the booklet, they looked at each other and simultaneously said...."dutch?"

They went dutch. Step one of team building was completed.

"So where are you bloody taking me?"

"You'll see"

Jenny had instructed the driver to pull up to the Aurora Club, on the strip. Circus Circus was right down the road. This is where the celebs went. This was how you lived large in Vegas.

"I think you are going to like this, Nev."

"Don't call me Nev you chav"

They fought like siblings. This was a good sign, as they would have each others backs like brother and sister.

The car rolled to a stop in front of the purple lit building with fountains and elaborate sculptures out front. There were flashing strobes like paparazzi cameras and everything seemed to be made of glass. It was really a sight to see. Neville and Jenny, who had changed into a nice skirt to go with her top, walked up the marble front steps. Neville looked around, seemingly taking it all in, as if he hadn't been to a place this fancy with no historical value behind it before.

When they walked through the front door, it was a sight to be seen. The lights inside matched the outside, illuminating everything with a purple hue. Everything was leather and there were poles that went to the ceiling which was hundreds of feet high. Several stages encompassed the front of the building and the VIP rooms lined the balcony above. Money was everywhere. The bouncers checked their ID's--hassling Neville a tad because of a passport but eventually yielding to Jenny's browbeating---and they were on their way.

"So, this doesn't look like a club I've ever heard of."

"That is because it is not. This is the high life, high society.....here, let me get you a bottle......"

She waved her hand and a well endowed woman in a tight shirt came over, holding a grey goose bottle with a sparkler on top.

"Jen......"

"Sit down....." she shoved him down into a leather chair.

"I'm gonna show you how Perfection lives."

He was about to say something when she handed him a glass. He looked at it, before setting it on the fancy glass table in front of him. Jen was lost in her own little world, barking out orders and snapping fingers, but all with a smile on her face.

She sat down next to Neville just as a girl came up to him. She had been above them in a cage before, and now had her floor rotation.

She greeted him and before she knew it was sitting on his lap. Jenny grinned and sat back, sipping her Goose with Cranberry. She could see out of the corner of her eye that she was grinding down on him. She had to admit she was getting a little damp thinking about it....how she used to do it......how she used to turn men on....bite their ear......blow in it.......

The lights blinked off the mirrors, the carpet was surprisingly clean.

After she was done, and paid, Neville leaned over to her. She swirled her glass, the ice cubes clinking together.

"Jen...."

"Having fun yet?"

"Oh yes this is very nice but......"

She set her drink down and looked at him with a tilted eyebrow.

"But?" She almost sounded offended. She had shown him the good life and there was a but?

How dare he.

"Jenn, I appreciate this....I do. But......I want to get to know you........"

"I used to work at a club Neville."

"Not this club."

Damnit. He was right. This wasn't her life. It is now, but it wasn't. This is the life that jenny Myst earned, but not the life that made her.

"Neville, you don't want that......"

He cut her off.

"Jenn.......I have admired you and your grind for some time. This life, I love that you flaunt it.....but what I am interested in is WHY you flaunt it. Where you came from....."

Jenny looked off into the distance. Her hand began to tremble. She thought about Blaze. Even being here was a slap in the face to girls like her and what they do and how hard they fight....everyday....just to get by.

"Fine......."

She got up, walking out in a huff. Neville winked at the girl who had grinded her ass on him, and left a hundred on the table. He ran out after her, catching her in the lobby.

Jenny, the strong woman he had known, was crying.

The strong woman who he had come to respect was breaking down.....her eye makeup smudging a bit.

"Jenn...whats wrong?"

"Its nothing Neville......don't worry about it".

Sniffle.

The car pulled up and the driver opened the back door. She pulled away and made her way towards the car.

"Little Darlings Las Vegas" she said as she got in. Neville didn't say a word as he got in next to her. "If that has a wait, take us to 1842 N Las Vegas Blvd, North Las Vegas.......Lacy's Lounge." The driver nodded.

After a little bit of a drive....he looked over at her. "Look, Jenn....I am sorry if I stirred up anythin----"

"You want to know my life? Fine. I wanted to show you a good time but you want to know the real me? Okay....I'll show you the real Jenny Myst." There was a venom in her voice that he had not heard before.

They sat in silence for another almost 15 minutes as the car battled through Las Vegas traffic.

The area around them got progressively worse. The bright lights of the strip began to fade as they got more and more into the seedier parts of Vegas, the parts the tourists don't see. The parts where tourists are advised NOT to go.

The kind of place where you need to put your wallet in your front pocket if you wish to keep it.

The car rolled into Little Darlings. Across the street was Lacy's Lounge.....the sign was only half lit. The paint was peeling.

With a sigh Jenny said...."you wanted this....." as she opened the door with a huff.

Neville got out and looked around. What had he gotten himself into?

Jenny was already inside. When Neville made his way in......the scene was drastically different than the last establishment. There was one pole, in the center of the room on the stage. The lights were nice, obviously new, but they only lit the stage. The rest of the place was dark. The bar looked like it would be sticky, and the girls all looked like they had a meth habit. The rug was choppy and the seats were a valor plush and clearly were overused. There were no men dressed like him but instead in leather biker jackets with chains hanging off in places where you wouldn't think there would be chains. The roof had a cloud of smoke from cigarettes, even though smoking was prohibited inside. It was a suffocating aroma.

Jenny had seemingly disappeared. He walked to the bar and ordered a scotch......the bartender looked at him like he has asked for plutonium.

"Scotch?" she said, almost as if offended. "Does this look like a place that serves scotch?"

Neville was a bit taken aback.

"It looks like a rather seedy establishment, if I may be honest, but I figured maybe you'd at least have well scotch....."

"I'll make you a drink, and you'll like it." She said. "How about whiskey?"

He settled.

Where the hell was Jen?

As Neville winced drinking his concoction of whatever the big titted bartender gave him, he noticed a girl spinning on the pole. She was beautiful. Bleach blonde with tats, skinny but proportionate. She had a glow about her, as if she didn't belong in this dingy bar with these dingy people.

There was something......different.

He sat down on one of the ripped chairs at the stage. He took a sip of his gross, overpriced drink. She was mesmerizing.

Before he knew it, Jenny was next to him.

"That is Blaze" she said. "She is the closest thing to me you will ever see."

"Maybe that is why she is so lovely."

"Stop the flattering......she's a lunatic. As am I. She rips off guys here, men who spend money they don't have on lap dances, just to fuel a nasty coke habit."

The sound through the crackly speakers ended and she got off the stage, almost floating over to them.

"You came back" her eyes lit up. Jenny nodded. "And whoooooo is this?" She basically jumped on him.

"This is my friend Neville. A British chap. Wanted to see where we come from."

"Why?"

"Confused."

She took a baggie out of her underwear......the front side. It contained a white powder.

"Sit still."

She poured it out on his crotch area......then went down on it. Sniff.....Lick......just all up in there.

Neville looked horrified.

She sniffed hard and coughed. Her nostrils were blue. She smiled big. A crazy smile.

Neville excused himself to use the bathroom. Backing up, ensuring he would be back, he bumped into a biker leaving the bar and spilled his cheap draft beer all over the front of him.

Neville immediately turned around, but the man was already cocked and ready.

He swung, but Neville ducked. The man brought a clubbed fist down, but Neville was able to move out of the way. He told the man he didn't want to have to hurt him, which made the biker laugh and pull a knife. He charged Neville who grabbed him around the waist and pushed him back into the bar. The man dropped the knife but the other bikers jumped on.

Just when it looked like the strength in numbers was going to get the best of him, a beer bottle came crashing over the head of one of the bigger ones.

It was Jenny.

Neville hit his move "The Education" on the other and the two stumbled out the door. There was total mayhem inside as the rumble was spilling out into the parking lot. Everyone was fighting everyone.

"What.....the.....bloody.....fuck" Neville said panting. "Total uncivilized creatons! Heathens! These people have no class! No honor!"

"This is just the tip of the ice berg, my man. I haven't shown you the drug use in full, the back room prostitution, the abuse......"

"I am good......"

"Thought so."

"Perhaps its my turn to show you......."

The car pulled up just as the cops began to file into the parking lot and officers came running towards the door. Nothing new for this place.

As they got in, Neville pulled a bottle of Scotch out from the seat underneath.

" Now....its my turn......"

As he poured her a glass......she tried it. Fuck it, why not.

She damn near spit it out, but swallowed it after second thought. Hell, she'd swallowed worse.

He signaled to the driver, who put on classical music. "To the airport" he said, leaning back.

"To the airport" she whispered, raising her glass for a toast. ]]> "I am so glad you decided to stop in Vegas on your way to Japan" Jenny said, sipping on her Sangria under the shaded porch of the Vegas-strip cafe. She had on a pair of Dolce and Gabanna sunglasses, a halter top and Chanel leggings. Her feet, simple sandals she got at Wal-Mart. She never understood why people spent so much money on things designed to get all dirty and beat up.

Across from her sat Neville Sinclair, the current XWF Television Champion and the man who made that division what it is today. He had on a dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. In the Vegas heat he unbuttoned the top button where a gold chain was exposed. He had on dress pants and fancy leather shoes. He looked proper.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world m'lady. We are competitors in that ring but until this event is over, we are team mates, family."

She smiled again. He took a sip of his Scotch.

"In that ring, we need to be cohesive.We need to be a unit. It's kinda not fair that Robbie is our captain now.....you know he's playing both sides of the fence."

"I knew he did anyway."

"Hahaha.....there is that English wit!"

The waiter was hovering around, waiting for Jenny to need a refill. He was a bit weary though, as he didn't know the situation, and was accustomed to seeing her there with Chris.

He had an eye cocked, maybe she was cheating. Maybe this was her handsome side piece with a charming accent.

"We already know that Bourbon only cares about the Motherfuckers.....he will stick a knife in our back any chance he gets."

"So we need to stick together."

"Exactly."

She swirled the bottom of her drink, and signaled to the waiter. He was over with a refill quickly.

"What I am trying to understand is why you reached out to hang out with me."

"I just felt it would be nice to be on the same page all the way around. Plus, we can teach each other things outside the ring."

Jenny had big plans for Neville. She was going to show him how she lived. She was going to show him, so he fully understood, that her pain translated into pure dominance. Sometimes when you understand a person's background, you can understand their actions. Once you see a persons background, their present becomes more clear.

As does their future.

"I have a whole night planned for us, Neville. I want to show you the life of the perfect one. Where I came from, what I do.......and maybe you could show me....."

"What would Chris think?"

"Not that, Neville. I meant your life....ugh....whatever....."

Jenny was going to show Neville a good time. Take him out on the town, but also tes him. He always wants to teach lessons to his opponents, well she had some lessons for him. And if she was lucky, the other way around.

This man had so much wisdom to give but Jenny felt like for him to fully trust her, he had to fully understand her.

"So I made some phone calls and we are going to head over to the Aurora Club later."

He sipped his scotch, unphased.

"And we will go up and down the strip. Lets just get drunk. People tend to know each other the best when they are drunk."

The streets were buzzing in Vegas, as usual. Neville seemed to not be affected by the Scotch at all, he drank it like water.

"The car should be here soon....."

He nodded.

"So tell me, blondie, how do you do it?"

"Mmmm?"

"Brush it all off.....keep your cool. How do you manage to go through life with all of the criticism you have and stay so calm, cool, and collected? I've always admired that."

She smiled for a moment before answering.

"I don't. I just let it bottle up internally and then I take it all out on my opponent. I have learned how to battle with my emotions and my inner demons and bring it all together into one package."

"Remarkable".

Jenny signaled for the check. The waiter nodded. The luxury town car that would be transporting them pulled up outside the cafe.

"I have a feeling that this match is going to come down to you and I."

"You don't trust Peter?"

"I don't trust Robbie. Peter may be the first one to go due to his and Robbie's history."

"Damnit."

"We need to watch each others backs but we need to make sure Peter stays upright also."

"Communication is key."

The car pulled up, and Jenny slipped her black Amex into the check booklet.

"What are you doing m'lady?"

"Ummm.....paying so we can get the fuck out of here and start our adventure."

Neville shook his head, picking up the check booklet and taking Jenny's card out. He set it on the table.

"It wouldn't be gentlemanly to allow you to pay.......the man always pays. It is just proper."

Jenny smiled, but then shook her head. She took the booklet back from Neville, took his cash out, and put her card back in.

"Really Neville, I've got it. I'm treating you."

He takes the booklet, takes her card out, and puts his cash back in.

"Jen.....I insist."

This went back and forth about three more times. The waiters eyes followed as if was watching a slow motion ping pong match. The transport car beeped its horn.

"Are you questioning me as an independent woman who can take care of herself?"

"Are you questioning me as proper gent with manors?"

After a few more times of passing the booklet, they looked at each other and simultaneously said...."dutch?"

They went dutch. Step one of team building was completed.

::FADE IN::

Well, you knew he was gonna show up eventually in this shitstorm...Steve Sayors alongside Robert Main, Drew Archyle and Jim Caedus, Apex, stands before a banner with the XWF's War Games 2017 logo emblazoned across the surface.

"Welcome XWF Universe, I am of course Steve Sayors, your one-stop-shop for hype in everything that is Xtreme, here now with the fledgling stable known as The Apex-"

"It's just Apex, Steve, we voted out the The."

"O...kay. Apex it is. Guys, let me get this outta the way...you DO know that should you make it through The Motherfuckers you'll be facing the survivors of the other matches in the main event, right?"

Actually we're looking forward to it.

Damn straight we are!

"Really...because I haven't heard much from you in addressing the other War Games participants beyond The Motherfuckers. I think Doc might have been the only competitor with any words for wrestlers outside his own team's first match."

"You know what Steve, you're absolutely right, let's get some comments from us on the rest of the warriors on the battleground.

Lemme start with Panzer and whoever the fuck that guy is they keep calling Micheal Graves."

"You mean Micheal Graves?"

Jim lays it on thick with the sarcasm.

"I don't know, Steve, do I? Who would know?

According to their Doc Brown aborted promos, we're now being treated to the Graves of 2003. Didn't Graves _start_ in aught-three or roundabouts? Isn't the situation now, according to logic, logic and logic that everything else from then to now that made him a recognizable name and new official entry on the Top 50 of All Time has now been erased? Furthermore, would this not have effectively rendered Micheal Graves now as impossibly MORE SO unappealing and MUCH less talented like he was back before a clown with a flying Delorean up his skirt ripped him away from leading up to all the shit that made him great, HERE, in the current era of the XWF?

The Micheal Graves, my friend and brother, whom I still remember being in Ax3 as does everyone else? The Micheal Graves who's name remains on the Top 50 of All Time? The Micheal Graves still listed in the history books for accolades and titles he apparently never won because from 2003 to December 2017 there now exists a world without Gravy? Oh shit...you hear that? Pretty sure I just heard Robbie faint and drop like a sack o' bowling balls. Aftershock! Damn Blue...

Anyhoo...

Gonna take a lot more than Huey Lewis crowin' Back In Time to top Apex in the main event should we make it. I'm almost positive Panzer's Dragoons will be there.

Of course, we can't forget the Doc himself. Ain't no ignorin' that obstruction in the road. And you know what...in light of the words of respect he blessed me with, NOT in his promo but at the close of his very special Shove-It, I'll admit to something that NOW...having witnessed the very power he holds in HELL ITSELF while Drew, Robert and I were gettin' our asses kicked by Abaddon......yes, Doc. You now inspire fear in Jim Caedus. Wear it proudly...though a badge is all that revelation is good for. My fear has never prevented me from facing it's providence in any form...ever. Doc...your two-bit buttfucking demon butler sicked his black widow succubus on me and I killed the bitch. Hell, I have one of her eggs waiting to hatch back in Castle Caedus RIGHT NOW as a memento of the event. Also because I very much want to ride a domesticated colossal black widow in a future promo. Wait for iiiiiiiit...

"Hey fellows, what's a synonym for elite or best?" Doc, former member of The KINGS, says in reaction to the name Apex. Easy Doc, I don't give a shit if you tried to cover that with a weak justification over the part time dominance your gang part time exhibited and now FULL TIME refuses to live up to in rejecting challenges or not...don't shoot yourself in those lower arthritic digits of yours, that tennis ball bottomed cane can't POSSIBLY hold up under the weight of your enormous head as well as those currently intact creepy clubbed demon feet can. I'm just sayin'...mobility is still important even to a queer devil poofin' around like Scully popping in at the last minute.

HI SCULLS!! Heh...I like Scully. He ain't so bad. Fuck 'im though too, if he comes across Apex he's dead.

By the by...Doc, that hurts. I "don't deserve the label people give" me? I mean, to be honest I'm not really sure what you meant by that, you kinda petered off like an old man or a chronic drunk or a budhead or a mentally disabled person or all of the above and never specified but still, I think the comment was meant to be hurtful and...gosh golly...I AM hurt. Hurt that you'd contradict yourself like that after legit saying the exact opposite on record before I ever became an opponent of yours in any way. Hurt that you forget...I'm on that Top 50 list too, pal...and for a reason. Hurt...that I've LITERALLY challenged every last one o' you in The Kings to singles competition and not ONE of you has EVER risen to the challenge. Simultaneously, sure. How 'bout with James Raven, DOC? Who the SHIT wouldn't, right? That's like sayin', "nah, fuck the shotgun, I'mma use this wadded-up picture of a rock." But alone? None o' you. And don't gimme that shit about it ain't worth your time. When you say things like that it makes you look bad. Almost as bad as you saying you've always been a Bourbon Man. Not half as bad as you talking so much shit on Robert, Drew and I before the old man brain spasm glitch sayin'-

"I can see meeting this team in the final match, to be honest.."

Ain't nobody gotta buy into the meaning o' my words, Doc, they sell themselves. Can't say the same for a man who tries floating two points that invalidate each other and by consequence, everything else you say.

McBride, love him, but he ain't gonna get in our way should we meet up and neither will Scully. James Raven and Chris Chaos? Now that's as intriguing a teaming as Jim CAEDUS and Chris Chaos. The Unknown Soldiers line-up wasn't all that affected by the switch out and neither was the one ALSO with Robbie. Only problem is, James only just now joined up and it ain't outta the realm of possibility to assume he won't be able to prepare to the extent of those like Robert, Drew and I have. We're ready, we've BEEN ready...and unfortunately, that team isn't. Neither is Robbie's other team. It ain't necessarily fair but it's the truth. Just like it wasn't fair when Ax3 had to hastily replace members with Trax and Steve Davids and expect to compete on the level of a team as cohesive as The Kings...or Apex.

As entertaining as I find the Dragon Pals' Big Dick to be, I don't see his team beating out James Raven, Chaos, McBride and Scully. Nor do I, all due respect, Gilly, and you know goddamn well I mean it, expect Team Xtreme to take out Panzer's Dragoons, that team, all jokes aside, is pretty damn impressive...to me anyway. Especially that Finn Kühn, he doesn't receive nearly as much respect as he deserves. Much like Gilly. And Scully. And Chasm, whether he's been replaced or not, for that matter, I heard him talk MAD shit to Robbie Bourbon down at HQ and genuinely laughed my ass off. That counts for somethin'.

And speaking of The Motherfuckers...ain't much left to be said without responding to War Pig's now devolving to themes of animals like Danny Imperial with the lion/tiger liger lunacy and still stinkin' up the place with his stubborn "fire hot but I gonna touch it anyway" attitude towards showing the XWF how insipid and incapable he is at a war of words...and material that don't make you cringe...and quality...and entertainment...and keeping his pants up...and keeping his energy up...and inhaling without an open mouth. Robbie's been handled as much as he's gonna be and Engy, yelling and screaming and quoting and embellishing while he accuses me of yelling and screaming and quoting and embellishing like the hack hypocrite he is, making zero points that ain't fibs or self-descriptive, waxing on and on about what he lied about and how he's lying to cover up those lies and how he steals and lies and lies some more with a side o' lies, a glass o' lies and a candy cane firmly lodged up his puckered pretentious prick suckin' asshole...I have nothing further to say to Engy right now. He debates like a child, why waste my time?"

"I think you've said plenty as it is. Robert? Any words?"

Robbie, Engy, Piggy, do you know why The Omega is hated so? It's actually pretty simple. Most people hate me for one reason and one reason alone. They can't beat me in the ring. They can't slay me in verbal warfare. I'm hated because unlike most of the field I'm not a loser. Sure at times I do take my ball and go home. But what happens when I come back? Look and see for yourself. I come back stronger than ever. More hungry! In a matter of months what have I done? Defeated the number one contender for the Universal Championship! Contended for the X-Treme Championship nearly winning against the unstoppable Engy! Next? I won the Hart Championship! Don't let these fake impersonators fool you. I am as good as I say I am. I am a constant target around here for one reason. I win.

I do things most of you are afraid to even think of. I dump people on their heads and pin them for the one two three. I put asses in seats. This match, this event is no different. This time though I have my band of brothers to share the success with. We will fight as a team, a unit of one. We all share one common goal. Win War Games. Just look at the rest of the field. How many of you have worked together? A few here and there but nothing like us. Nothing like Apex! See boys, whether your Doc all the way down to Chris the cry baby bitch Chaos. Here, on the Apex side of things, we check our enormous egos at the door. We have been called every name in the book over the past few weeks. From weak sauce down to lame!

Well now the time for talk has gone. Now the fight inside those cages begins. And as the bones begin to break up against that unforgiving steel cage, we will find out real quick who has a spine and who has a yellow belly. Once the blood begins to flow and it will flow like wine at the last supper, we will find out who is the phony tough and who is the crazy brave! Over here, we will put our bodies on the line to achieve greatness! Look at what has been said. All of the other teams knows who is going to be in the very last match. US or The Mother Fuckers! There is no doubt about it.

Boys I will put those rumors to bed right here and now telling you all its going to be us. It will be Apex going to the final round of War Games. We might be just walking out of a fire fight, beaten up, bloodied and battered. But we will not lay down. We will push forward as a team unlike the rest of you. We will walk into the finals tired, we will walk out of War Games winners. You are looking at the 2017 War Games winners right here and now. There isn't a team out there that can or will stop us. We are the best team out there and we will win by any means! No more sticks and stones ladies it's time to fight. I hope you all decide to pack a lunch because you are going to need it.

"Nothing from you on any of this, Mr. Archyle?"

Look Steve I've already verbally raw dogged all of The Motherfuckers repeatedly. And those ungrateful bastards didn't even thank me for it. So seeing as how those assholes have absolutely no Christmas cheer I guess I'll turn my attention to some of the other folks involved in this show and I'll do it in rapid fire success like this were the bonus round...

Ready...

Steady...

Go...

Michael McBride...hack.

Scully...Google tells me he's won a lot of titles and I have absolutely no idea how. He won the Universal Title. That's cool. Then he lost it to Peter Gilmour, that's...amazing. And not in a good way.

Doctor D'Ville...he's old as fuck but he still wins a lot of matches. Must be his supernatural powers or something. He's like Jim's friend Trax except white. And with less gold in his teeth.

James Raven...I guess I should say nice things about him...I like his hair. I wonder what product he uses in it.

Anyway...

Peter Gilmour...He's Peter Gilmour. Unless someone is there to hold his hand through the match he'll find a way to blow it. Either for himself or his team. #FACT

Frodo...Grande

...

Danny Imperial...used to be the Hart Champ then my buddy Big Shot Bob took it from him like Roy Moore took some 14 year old girls virginity.

Neville Sinclair...one of, if not the greatest television champion in XWF history. Respect.

Erik Black...he had his fifteen minutes. Good for him. Hopefully he can try and squeeze out a few more in the future. I dug his schtick.

R.L. Edgar...depression case. I hear Doctor D'Ville's door is always open. Maybe you should go speak with him. He might help you through your troubles. If he won't, come and see me. I'll be happy to charge you a couple bills and listen to your problems. I do it with Rob and Jim for free.

"It's true."

Finn Kuhn...yeah....

Phantom Panzer..."IT" sucked. Clowns suck. You suck. See a pattern?

Gravy...AX3 was kinda cool from what Jim tells me. But then you went all kiddy diddler and fucked everything up. Not cool man. Also, have you been banned from your local mall too? I hear that's a thing they do to people with your specific predilection.

Chris Chaos...you are without a shadow of a doubt the saddest excuse for a man ever. And I look forward to Jim reminding you of that fact when you man up and face him one on one for the tag titles.

And last but not least Thunder Thighs Barbie...you had some unkind things to say about me. I should be offended but then I remembered what the lady who ran the group home that I lived in as a kid said. Girls who make fun of you on the playground secretly like you. I'm going to assume that is the case here because you are basically a little girl still. Amazing what a box of tissues and a push up bra will do for a person's look.

Did I forget anyone?

I don't think so.

Good because I downed like 4 Diet Dr. Peppers on the way here and I gotta take a piss.

Drew walks off the stage and disappears to the back.

"Well Stevesy...I'd say that about wraps that up and leaves us with one last thing left undone."

"Please don't hit me. Look, I realize it's literally in my contract that the talent can kick me around for the benefit of entertainment and Mary mother of God...WHY did I sign that...but please...don't hit me, don't Irish whip me into the cameras, don't-"

"Steve."

"-slap me, DEFINITELY don't-"

"STEVE!"

Steve flinches...then utters meekly-

"Yes?"

"Apex, bro. Apex. We're the good guys here. All I wanted was a handshake."

Jim extends his hand cordially.

"Honest?"

"Honest."

Steve accepts the handshake...and another from Robert Main for good measure...just as Drew circles back around and tugs Steve's slacks down around his ankles.

Haaaaa haaaaaa.

"JIIIIIIIIIIIM!"

"_DREEEEEEEEEEEW_!!"
]]> <![CDATA[Cause I'm Mr. Brightside!]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30128 Fri, 22 Dec 2017 20:26:31 -0800 Grande Ricardo]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30128 "Hold the fucking phone. And if you don't have a phone by you, explain why the fuck not. Because we have a real issue to discuss here. Grab your phone, or your dog's dick, I really don't give a fuck. James Raven, the guy who can't stop imagining Robbie Bourbon jizzing all over his face while singing Living La Vida Loca, in perfect Portuguese no less, thinks that I'm Pest? And that's why he's excited? He thinks the Big Dick Playa, a Pimp named Slickback, Lord Large Schlong, is Pest? Seriously? It takes all of five fucking minutes to go to the XWF records, and search Pest out. He's not me, he's a weird creepy dude who likes to diddle kids. Odd that he could be diddling kids, and convincing people he was James at the same time, unless something's up with people's perception of James, though. That's irrelephant, though. What's important is that Jimmy here can't tell the difference between me, and some old ass dude. Maybe he's taken too many shots to the head. That's fine, because he'll be taking more hits to the head in this match. It's just the business we're in. Although, Jimbo might not be in this business for much longer. His anus will probably tear, like X-Pac, and he'll have to head out, again.

That's for the best, since Jimmy can't help but obsess over the past, and we're trying to move on to bigger and better things. Things like me punching him in the mouth. Then, as mentioned, letting Erik punch him in the mouth. Because that's teamwork, and Erik and I are a goddamn team, so we've gotta work together. None of the pussy ass planning to sabotage my team in the finals to help out some dude with a lion's pubes on his head, and Dean Ambrose's less interesting cousin. That's just a dipshit coward move right there, claiming you're gonna throw the match, so that when you lose you can be like, El oh El, I did it on porpoise. That way, when I knock your dick into my own asshole, because that is definitely a plan of mine, you can act like you planned to do it to help out those rejects you've decided are worth the shit off a dead goldfish your mom got you from the carnival when you were nine. The one you called Roberto Diego Ignacio Ramon Cortez the third. And don't try and tell me you didn't have a goldfish with that name, it's not goddamn important. And it's not important how the fish died, and why the aquarium is filled with my jizz, that's totally a reasonable story, but we don't have time for it.

What we do have time for is laughing at Scully. Because this dog fucker thinks he can rock a mustache and not look like Lome's uncle Hank. You all know the one I mean, Hank "Thunder, I promise I'm not a kid diddler" Lane. Don't make me go back and dig up the tapes of that shit. Scully, shave that shit, Seriously, shave your face and your luck might improve. Not in the ring, no, there's no hope for you there. You're just pure dog shit, and should probably go ahead and swallow that bleach now. It'll be slow, but trust me, Tardpants, it'll be worth it. Make sure you drink around 6 quarts, though. Any less and you're a pussy. Don't be a pussy, you're not Gilmour. Actually, you should probably try and emulate Peter, because at least his reign as Universal Champion is memorable. You? You're not even really a footnote in Vinnie's biography. Which is odd, because there's an entire chapter dedicated to his love of AquaNet. You're literally less important than Hair Spray, and not even the John Travolta musical, that's just a cultural landmark.

And McBride, I guess it's time I address you honestly and accurately. Hahahahahahaha. Fuck you, you one off carrot dick. You're literally the exact same loser you were when I left, don't every change. I don't think you're capable of changing. That'd require a little bit of effort on your part. Which, I realize asking for that is akin to asking for people to actually be attracted to Blake Shelton. Sorry, but that's just not happening. Sorry, but he's not sexiest man alive, and I demand to know who voted for him? That homely dude that works at Costco, and likes Blake because Blake makes him feel sexy? And who are we comparing Blake to, in order to get that conclusion? Joseph Merrick? Erik Stoltz? Billy Joel in his youth? No, Billy's way prettier than Blake. Wow, McBride, you got me on a slight tangent there, because you're such a hack that it's nearly impossible to stay on subject when dissing you. Jesus. How is Peter the one doing most of the work in that tag team? He's normally being carried by other people, but you? He's dragging your limp ass body behind him like you were the last cart of Chicken Parm in the world left. It's kind of admirable. You're Peter's little stupid stray puppy.

Chaos, come on man. Here I am, standing here with arms wide open, asking you to focus up and pay attention to use right before we punch your beautiful hair right off your big ass head. And what do you do? You cry about Jim Caedus not giving you a reach around? Really? You honest to god think anyone cares about your beef with those fools? The fans care about that as much as they care about whether or not I've had a ham sandwich today. Spoiler alert, they don't, and I did. Great, we've settled that shit. Now, listen, Chris, I'm going to knock your dick into James' asshole, and then his dick into my asshole. It'll be a train of dudes baby elephanting it up, and I'll ask Erik to join in with us, because that'll make our team even stronger. Don't let me down, Erik and Chris. I don't need you to be the Killers' attempt at a follow up to Mr. Brightside. Nobody should be that."

Frodo, now removed from his stupid Grande costume, trudges down the street and knocks on a door on a nondescript house in a nondescript neighborhood. The door opens a smidge, and an eye pokes it. They size up the intrepid hobbit, and slam the door shut. Some locks open, and then the front door flies open. Inside is Crack, the loyal manservant and sometimes sibling of our pint sized hero. He's looking ragged, like he hasn't showered in a while, smells like it too. There's a bowl of rancid milk on the coffee table, that looks like it also held cereal once. The gun in his hand goes back into his pocket, and he steps back.

"Where the fuck have you been?"

"Pretending to be a

with a dragon fetish for the last few months. I still got that dragon, his name is Mike."

Frodo pulls Mike out of the pocket of his hoodie and hold him out for Crack to see. He squats down, and looks the lizard in the eyes, and rubs his head a bit.

"And for the months and months before that?"

Mike runs up Frood's arm and nests on his shoulder.

"I was held in a Paraguayan crack den for about 8 months, shit was wild. They thought I was Kenny Baker, and wouldn't let me go. Apparently Kenny Baker owes them a lot of money. Fuck, that was intense. I had to fuck an 80 year old nun to escape. And I also pretended to be a priest at one point, but Jesus. Let me tell you, Paraguay is a wonderful country, and I hope to go back some day."

Crack walks over to the couch, and starts clearing it off for Frodo to sit on. He sits in a chair off to the side. Frodo sits down, and picks up the pipe laying on the coffee table, turning it slightly and examining it. Mike crawls from Frodo's shoulder to the couch.

"The country that held you hostage for months, because they thought you were the dude who played R2D2? They're a good country that you wanna go back to?"

Frodo puts the pipe in his mouth, and pulls out a lighter and begins to heat up the contents in the pipe. He inhales deeply, and then coughs a little.

"Yep. Also, the fuck did I just smoke?"

"Fuck if I know? That shit's not mine. It's the roommate's."

Frodo takes another hit of the pipe, and lays his head back on the nasty ass couch. A rat scurries across the floor, squeaking as it does.

"Fuck, bitch. You got a roommate? What happened to living with Sarah and the kids? Who's taking care of them?"

Just then a blonde woman comes walking into the room, her face hidden from Crack. She's recently showered, and is actually wearing clean clothes. A nice pair of jeans, and a pink hoodie, with a silver bracelet on her wrist.

"Who are you talking to, Crack?"

He just points, and she turns around, and her jaw hits the floor. It's mother fucking Katie fucking Smackins. She's apparently started smoking drugs of some sort, and seems to be doing well financially, judging by the bracelet. She leans in close to Frodo, and smacks him across the face.

"Where the fuck have you been, Dad?"

Crack picks up a blunt, and lights it, before taking in a deep hit. He laughs as he answers for the dumbstruck hobbit.

"Paraguay! Hahaha. Fucker got kidnapped."

Frodo leaps to his feet and goes to hug his daughter. She pushes him back. Mike lets out a big yawn from the back of the couch.

"And not a fucking letter or phone call to let us know you're ok? Mom thought you died, she's been a mess! And Joseph-Gordon is dealing drugs, like you started out doing. He's been picked up for selling weed a couple times. Never enough to stick, but still. And Swag ate a bullet."

Frodo drops the pipe on the floor. He can't believe the words that are coming out of Katie's mouth right now.

"Swag is dead?"

The other two just nod at Frodo.

"Fuck. Take me to Sarah. I need to see her. Come on Mike."

Mike leaps from the couch to Frodo's shoulder, and Crack stands up, the two of them start heading to the door. They turn and face Katie, who hasn't moved.

"You coming?"

"Fuck that. Sarah's gonna attack him, and I don't wanna get hit on accident."

They shrug and head out. The drive doesn't take long, and it's kind of boring. Frodo stopped on the way there to steal flowers from some lonely nerd kid trying to ask some girl to the prom. He just punched that dork in the face and took em. Like a fucking champion. Because let's not forget that he's a champion. They get to the house, and Crack parks the car. Frodo gets out, while Crack stays in the car. The walk up to the door is slow, and takes awhile. Once there, he knocks three times, and waits. Slowly the door opens, and Sarah is standing there, disheveled as fuck. Still looking hot, though. This narrator would hit it in a second. She looks at Frodo and slams the door in his face. He knocks again and she opens it once more.

"Where the actual fuck have you been?!"

"It's a very long story, but I was kidnapped and held in Paraguay for 8 months. After I escaped, I had to hide for a bit, so I pretended to be a

with a dragon fetish. Somehow, even at my dumbest I was still smarter than Scully."

She slaps him hard across the face.

"And you couldn't have alerted us that you were alive?"

"I wasn't really subtle with me being Grande Ricardo, so I'm not sure how anyone who paid attention couldn't have known it was me. Did you not pay attention to the XWF?"

"No, not really. I've been a mess. Are you coming in?"

He smirks, and chuckles.

"The house, or you?"

She smirks back.

"The house, and then me in you."

"I have missed your cock."]]> "Hold the fucking phone. And if you don't have a phone by you, explain why the fuck not. Because we have a real issue to discuss here. Grab your phone, or your dog's dick, I really don't give a fuck. James Raven, the guy who can't stop imagining Robbie Bourbon jizzing all over his face while singing Living La Vida Loca, in perfect Portuguese no less, thinks that I'm Pest? And that's why he's excited? He thinks the Big Dick Playa, a Pimp named Slickback, Lord Large Schlong, is Pest? Seriously? It takes all of five fucking minutes to go to the XWF records, and search Pest out. He's not me, he's a weird creepy dude who likes to diddle kids. Odd that he could be diddling kids, and convincing people he was James at the same time, unless something's up with people's perception of James, though. That's irrelephant, though. What's important is that Jimmy here can't tell the difference between me, and some old ass dude. Maybe he's taken too many shots to the head. That's fine, because he'll be taking more hits to the head in this match. It's just the business we're in. Although, Jimbo might not be in this business for much longer. His anus will probably tear, like X-Pac, and he'll have to head out, again.

That's for the best, since Jimmy can't help but obsess over the past, and we're trying to move on to bigger and better things. Things like me punching him in the mouth. Then, as mentioned, letting Erik punch him in the mouth. Because that's teamwork, and Erik and I are a goddamn team, so we've gotta work together. None of the pussy ass planning to sabotage my team in the finals to help out some dude with a lion's pubes on his head, and Dean Ambrose's less interesting cousin. That's just a dipshit coward move right there, claiming you're gonna throw the match, so that when you lose you can be like, El oh El, I did it on porpoise. That way, when I knock your dick into my own asshole, because that is definitely a plan of mine, you can act like you planned to do it to help out those rejects you've decided are worth the shit off a dead goldfish your mom got you from the carnival when you were nine. The one you called Roberto Diego Ignacio Ramon Cortez the third. And don't try and tell me you didn't have a goldfish with that name, it's not goddamn important. And it's not important how the fish died, and why the aquarium is filled with my jizz, that's totally a reasonable story, but we don't have time for it.

What we do have time for is laughing at Scully. Because this dog fucker thinks he can rock a mustache and not look like Lome's uncle Hank. You all know the one I mean, Hank "Thunder, I promise I'm not a kid diddler" Lane. Don't make me go back and dig up the tapes of that shit. Scully, shave that shit, Seriously, shave your face and your luck might improve. Not in the ring, no, there's no hope for you there. You're just pure dog shit, and should probably go ahead and swallow that bleach now. It'll be slow, but trust me, Tardpants, it'll be worth it. Make sure you drink around 6 quarts, though. Any less and you're a pussy. Don't be a pussy, you're not Gilmour. Actually, you should probably try and emulate Peter, because at least his reign as Universal Champion is memorable. You? You're not even really a footnote in Vinnie's biography. Which is odd, because there's an entire chapter dedicated to his love of AquaNet. You're literally less important than Hair Spray, and not even the John Travolta musical, that's just a cultural landmark.

And McBride, I guess it's time I address you honestly and accurately. Hahahahahahaha. Fuck you, you one off carrot dick. You're literally the exact same loser you were when I left, don't every change. I don't think you're capable of changing. That'd require a little bit of effort on your part. Which, I realize asking for that is akin to asking for people to actually be attracted to Blake Shelton. Sorry, but that's just not happening. Sorry, but he's not sexiest man alive, and I demand to know who voted for him? That homely dude that works at Costco, and likes Blake because Blake makes him feel sexy? And who are we comparing Blake to, in order to get that conclusion? Joseph Merrick? Erik Stoltz? Billy Joel in his youth? No, Billy's way prettier than Blake. Wow, McBride, you got me on a slight tangent there, because you're such a hack that it's nearly impossible to stay on subject when dissing you. Jesus. How is Peter the one doing most of the work in that tag team? He's normally being carried by other people, but you? He's dragging your limp ass body behind him like you were the last cart of Chicken Parm in the world left. It's kind of admirable. You're Peter's little stupid stray puppy.

Chaos, come on man. Here I am, standing here with arms wide open, asking you to focus up and pay attention to use right before we punch your beautiful hair right off your big ass head. And what do you do? You cry about Jim Caedus not giving you a reach around? Really? You honest to god think anyone cares about your beef with those fools? The fans care about that as much as they care about whether or not I've had a ham sandwich today. Spoiler alert, they don't, and I did. Great, we've settled that shit. Now, listen, Chris, I'm going to knock your dick into James' asshole, and then his dick into my asshole. It'll be a train of dudes baby elephanting it up, and I'll ask Erik to join in with us, because that'll make our team even stronger. Don't let me down, Erik and Chris. I don't need you to be the Killers' attempt at a follow up to Mr. Brightside. Nobody should be that."

::Robbie Bourbon Them Song::

When a snowball erupts hitting Robert in the chest, Robert glances around the snow-covered park trying to see where the first shot had come from! He see's nothing! The calm before the white storm! He knows the fight is on! Robert moves evasively behind a park bench, ducking in place for cover, Robert begins building a stash of snowballs, while keeping my head down. His gloves pick up snow, while his hands push the snow together making well-packed snowballs! Robert then notices the frozen crystals dangling from wild loose fibers I'd never normally notice. The frostiness of the snow has deeply chilled Robert's fingers to a point where they no longer bend. Robert peeks over the park bench once more!

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Soon another icy ball hits the side of the bench he is hiding behind and another whistles through the air just above Robert's head. Suddenly there's a stupid smirk plastered all over Robert's face seeing his would-be opponent for the first time! Robert grabs his first snowball whipping his arm back like a quarterback ready to send it flying towards the kid across the park.

Eat this kid!

Robert watches! Impact! Robert smiles letting out a hurrah as the fight intensifies. The only chance Robert has is to taunt the kid hoping he fires every missile. So Robert can carpet bomb him with his own! It works like a charm.

Your about to learn a valuable lesson kid!

[Image: giphy.gif]

Hey!

Hey what kid you started this!

Your that slacked jawed

Robert Main! I hate you!

Robert squints his eyes with uncertainty

Kid who taught you to talk like that?

Your Universal Champion Robbie Bourbon! He's going to wreck you Robert Main! He's going to take down APEX!

Robert laughs

My Universal Champion? Kid that fat prick isn't my anything! He shouldn't be yours either. I bet you think Robbie is a hero too! Look at the way he has you out here talking to me a complete stranger! You don't talk that way kid! Do you want to grow up and be a bully like him and be hated by every single man, woman and child on Earth? Robbie isn't going to wreck me or anyone else at War Games! He's so hated he'll be lucky to make it out of his first match, and as far as taking down Apex! Not going to happen kid! Now run along before I find your parents and have them wash that filthy mouth out with soap!

Mr. Main! I'm sorry I called you that!

Listen, kid, it's alright! Just do me a favor! Get better idols! Robbie and the Mother Fucker's are not it! After War Games, they will be dead and gone! Now head home its cold out here!

Robert watches as the kid runs off in the distance before ducting off the bench taking a seat! Robert point at the camera

Ya know, Chris Chaos you've had some pretty choice words over the past few days. We know the fire still burns and all! It's really hard to claw your way back into the spotlight when you have done literally nothing at all over the past few months, isn't it! You desperately want the world to believe you matter when the truth be told you haven't mattered since you dropped that Universal Championship like the angry panda you are! Tell me, Chris, what have you done? Where has the almighty Chris Chaos been? When your not rushing to the internet to come up with a few new lines or to research something no one cares about! What are you doing? Crying about how many times you have been screwed! Do us all a favor shut up, please! You have been nonexistent, nowhere to be found! Yet I am the one hiding in the shadows? I think you are describing yourself as of late! Who Chris, helped me win the Hart Championship? No one! Who helped you win the Tag Team Championships? Jimmy! I might not be this leader you were talking about but I am something you are not! I'm a man! I have a set still! If you want a piece of me so bad all you got to do is just say so and I'll bitch slap you like I would Jenny! Kind of hard living in the shadows winning Championships beating number one contenders and legends all along the way! Having match of the year candidates! yet I'm hiding in the shadows? Are you even listening to yourself? Or do you just say the first thing that slips into your mind!

Is there even a filter? Chris here's one for you! If you want a part of me or any member of APEX all you have to do is ask and we will gladly show you how irrelevant you really are! But you won't do that now, will you? Quick to pop that mouth off last to fight the guys your running it about! Just step up! Yet you claim Jim is scared of you? Please, he did challenge you to a match if I do remember winner take all? What did you have to say there, Chris? You did what everyone knew you would do! You said no! But why did you say no? Simple, because Jimmy would beat you and you know it! Anytime you want to have a match with me just say so. Put that other half of the Tag Team titles up for grabs! I gladly take it off of your hands! The best part about it is I'd also get to beat your ass all over the ring shutting you up! Now if you don't have anything relevant to say do us all a favor and shut the hell up! You worry about your undercard match while I worry about the main event! You are where you have always belonged the bottom of the barrel! Just to prove another point seeing how I am a nobody and all of that! Where are you in the title rankings? Wait for it! Wait for it! Oh, below me in every one! Worry about your match because no one on your team seems to be!

Chris Chaos Outside Looking In
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Robert leans back on the bench watching the snow fall from the heavens! Beneath all of the frost and snow, stood a snowman made yesterday from all of the fresh powder. The frost was his winter jacket and the frigid air a salve for his crystalline skin. The birds in the tree behind him shivered under their puffed wings.

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Now back to my match! For the record I want the three of you to know Robbie, Engy, and Piggy! This will be my last promo leading up to our match no more! Because honestly if I hear another one of your promos I might blow my brains out!

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Robbie Bourbon this is the very last time you'll hear from me so I am going to try and make this one count! It seems that even you now believe you have some proving to do when it comes to The Universal Championship! Why is that all of a sudden there champ? Wheres the ego? Where is the Robbie saying "I beat James Fucking Raven"? Gone! Now that Raven is back! Your shitting yourself as the shark's circle! It's not that you have lost a step, Robbie! You never had any footing, to begin with, and sure you can say I'll never be Universal Champion and you know what you might be right! I may never win the Universal Championship! I can also say I've never had The Universal Championship just handed over to me either! I've actually fought for everything that I have ever obtained here! Can you Robbie Bourbon say that! No! It's been handed down to you! Spoon fed like the baby you are! Speaking of The Universal Championship! Hell, I've never even had a shot at it yet! But one thing is certain I'm number two on the list! As of right now and current Hart Champion! You know that title I took from you! How quick we forget the past huh Robbie? I know your not the sharpest tool in the shed but try and keep up with me here okay?

I'll get my shot at glory Robbie, sooner or later I will, and when I do! You'll be looking at the next Universal Champion! You see Robbie when I did toss Cadryn off the top of that triple story cage losing the Hart Championship! I did, in fact, leave for a while to find myself! I needed some time to think things over! The funny thing about me leaving is THAT is the only thing people like you Chaos or anyone else can put on me! I left! That's it! You cannot tell me that you have beaten me in competition because it hasn't happened EVER! You can't tell me you are the better wrestler in the ring because your not! The only thing that you have to attack me on is leaving that's it! Something you did when you lost the Hart! Look at the hypocrite! Oh, wait you left long before that! Seeing HOW YOU NO SHOWED for everything leading up to the pay per view! Where were you when you were needed the most? Robbie, you ghosted! You tucked and ran as fast as you could! So do me a favor and step down from the soapbox for a moment! You are pointing the finger, yet forgetting everything that you have done! Typical snowflake!

I bet you wouldn't be talking so much if I came with a medium fries and a shake! You know medium the size between small and you! The only work it takes to become the Universal Champion when your Robbie Bourbon is it handed over to you! You’ll never be good enough to be one of the best in history, this temporary Universal Championships run will be your very last! This company deserves better men at the helm!

The Mother Fuckers Hearing About James Raven
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Robert looks around watching the snow fall all around him smiling

I heard a little piggy! Oink! Hey, pig I may be the jackass of APEX but here is one thing I'm not! The weak link of my stable!

BWP Showing His Muscles
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So let me get this right! You believe I went to James Raven for help beating you guys? Is that what you think? My friend, I didn't go to James Raven for help! I went to James Raven for insurance! Big difference! You see I wanted to see if the best fucking wrestler to ever walks gods green earth, was on the same page as us and guess what! He is! Don't you go on thinking for one second that James Raven is going to get involved in any way because little piggy he isn't! We are going to beat you our selves! What happens after that bell rings, that is all on James Raven's shoulders! If he decides to gut the three of you ringside we will be right there to help him do so! We want to ride the world from scum like you pig! HOW MANY TIMES NOW HAVE YOU SAID WEAK SAUCE? EVERY PROMO? Get some new one-liners huh? Oh and as far as Raven's cock goes, pig you'll know soon enough! You can fancy up what I did with whatever wordplay you like! You can make all the gay jokes you'd like to as well. You've done that throughout every single promo you have ever done in the XWF! These are no different! There is no story, nothing! We just got a bearded moron telling gay jokes and slandering a whole community! But the fact of the matter is this!

If the show was on the other foot what would you have done! Now I know what you will say! Your not a bitch and you would have never done something like that! But let's be honest man! You would have! Robbie would have. Engy would have also! All of a sudden you guys are seemingly forgetting about us and worried to death about James Raven! Listen up meathead you are not fighting James Raven you are fighting APEX! Us! Do you believe I have some power and I can just appoint referees in matches now? No! Lane did that! If I had that sorta power I would have fired the three of you shit heads a long time ago! Robbie is a paper champion you are the weak link and Engy is a moron for teaming with you! I'm not trying to pry wedges at all man! Just look at your promos! ALL SEPARATE NO FUCKING TEAMWORK! NONE! LOOK AT APEX, ALMOST ALL OF OUR PROMOS HAVE BEEN DONE TOGETHER! Not this let's all do 5 separate promos a piece and try to smother the other guys out with words! Please! You guys cannot even work together let alone have me drive wedges! It looks to me those wedges have already been driven a long time ago!

So your claiming to have all of this teamwork and there has been none and your worried about James Raven! Nice any other stupid comments! Wait its BWB! There are always stupid comments! How did I beat Danny Imperial? The same way I did the first time around when I beat him! I walked in and busted his chops all over the ring! OR DID YOU EVEN KNOW I BEAT HIM TWICE! The Mother Fuckers are so damn disorganized it's not even funny! But I guess your right even the best of us have our days! Just to be clear PIGGY I'VE BEATEN DANNY IMPERIAL TWO TIMES! I know you are slow! Hard to comprehend numbers! You don't even fucking know what is going on around you and you think you are going to beat us at War Games? I mean really? It's not going to fucking happen! HEY DANNY IMPERIAL HOW YOU DOIN?

Robert winks at the camera

Ah... The Hart Championship is treating me just fine little pig! it feels amazing to wake up every morning looking over, seeing that belt lying next to me! At least I AM STILL CHAMPION! You think you might have found your replacement gold huh? Whatever you say, man! Come get it! Though you'll have to work your way up the ladder to get it seeing how your not even in the top 5. That's going to take a lot of work! I'm not a guy who likes line jumping! Do you know why you are looking someplace else? Because Neville Sinclair would whoop that ass all over the ring! Don't act tough pig you and I both know you cannot and will not ever beat me in the ring one on one! I'd crush you every time, just like the cockroach you are! Come after me BWB! Come after me! Try and rip my heart from my chest and stomp all over it! You will be the one showing the world you have no backbone! You wanted to come out acting all tough, we'll see how tough you are when the assault begins! After all of the smoke clears and the dust settles Pig you will be the one begging for help! You will be crying out for your friends! Reaching for a hand, only to find they too are fallen, crushed under the foot of APEX!

We will come out on top and when you rightfully gain a shot at my Hart Championship I'll lay it all on the line pig! I'll smack you around like a red-headed stepchild! I want you to know now and forever! APEX will always own that ass! Piggy you cannot beat me in the ring! We all know Robbie cannot beat me in the ring! Engy pulled a fast one! In this war, I'm shooting to kill! Let's see if the tough guy marine impersonator can dodge all of the bullets! Now if you will excuse me I am done with you Mother Fuckers!

BWP Favorite Activity
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]]> SNOWBALL FIGHT

::Robbie Bourbon Them Song::

Hey!

Hey what kid you started this!

Your that slacked jawed

]]> <![CDATA[Vote Archyle! Man of the People!]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30097 Fri, 22 Dec 2017 19:07:06 -0800 Drew Archyle]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30097

Chicago

Fuck it's cold out here!

As the scene fades in we see Drew Archyle, Robert Main and Jim Caedus huddled around a modest camp fire in the middle of what appears to be a makeshift town for the cities homeless. There's probably a dozen or so tents, most of which are surrounding old rusty metal barrels that are being used as a heat source as orange and red flames can be seen rising above the top rim of each barrel.

What are we doing out here anyway bro?

We are connecting with the people. These people. My people.

You live here?

Sure do. That's my place over there. Drew says as he points to two large boxes held together by duct tape and placed up against the inner wall so as to be shielded from the elements on at least one side. It's two refrigerator boxes tapped together. It's very spacious. And it has all the amenities of any major hotel chain.

I don't understand how that's even possible!

You haven't lived Robert until you've lived the double wide box life. It's the best. I don't think I'll ever leave.

I honestly can't tell if you're joking man or dead serious.

Serious as a heart attack. Besides the town is holding a vote tomorrow night for a new mayor and i'm on the ballot.

Wait a second, this little area is a town and it has a mayor? And people vote? No...

Yes. Vote for Archyle! Man of the People!

What's your platform?

I promised not to increase taxes.

And they bought that?

Look Robert I know it's hard for you to understand this because you were born with a million dollars to your name but poor people, homeless people, they aren't too bright. Take Jim for example.

Hey fuck you!

What I'm just saying..you're a modern day success story. In fact, you should stump for me as a reformed homeless, heroine addict. That could probably get me the druggy vote.

I thought you said the vote was tomorrow bro? Might be a little too late for that.

It's never too late. These people they don't sleep. Especially crack alley over there. Get to work Jim. The people need to hear your story. They deserve to hear your story.

Reluctant but sensing that it's probably just easier if he does what Drew wants than to further try and argue with him, Jim get's up from his warm seat by the fire and starts stumping for Drew.

You don't have to do this Drew. I already invited you to Christmas. Even my sister asked if you'd be there.

Yeah about that. I think I'm gonna ask her to marry me.

You're gonna what?!?

Geez Rob, tell me how you really feel. I was kidding by the way. But now seeing as how you just freaked out over the mere mention of a proposal I now feel obligated to make it happen.

Drew what will it take to get you out of here? You're better than this. You don't have to live like this. Jim offered his place, you know you have an open invitation to stay with me. Why are you doing this?

This is who I am now Bob. Champion of the forgotten man. And soon to be Mayor of Tent City Alpha. This is my redemption and this is where it starts.

This little mini shanty town has a name?

Well that's one of the things on my platform. To give it a name. Who knows, maybe I can even get it incorporated. The sky is the limit, Roberto!

Assuming you win.

Oh I'll win.

I like your confidence.

It's not confidence. It's a fact. I'm running unopposed.

You are? Then why did you tell Jim to go out there and campaign for you?

Just to see if he would do it. I'll go get him in a minute but before I do I wanted to ask you, how you feeling about this match?

Robert hesitates for a few seconds glancing around the town of tents when he notices a man sitting on the steps to his left. The man dosesn't move one muscle he continues to stare aimlessly! The man would have been white if it were not for all of the grime covering his face! His hair was a perfect fit for a mop. His old fuchsia t-shirt was inadequate, but on him, it was like his big brother's shirt, close-fitting in a cringy way where it shouldn't and hanging in a droopy way. The concrete steps were dank and wet from the evening snowfall, but the man didn't seem to care as he sat there like it was a summer evening. The frigid water had to be seeping into his clothes. Surely the man could sense the freezing cold water seeping in. Robert watched as the man took his arms wrapping them tightly around his knees that shuttered from the sheer cold. Robert continued staring at the man, looking at his face for as long as he could. Robert takes off his leather jacket handing it to the man.

Here take it!

the man smiles at Robert thanking him quickly putting on the leather jacket

This right here is insane! It's a shame, a travesty! Someone should be out here giving these people a hand! Not all of these people deserve to be out here on the streets! People go through hard times! I'll do whatever I can to help!

Robert rubs his eyes for a few moments staring at the ground

Engy, James Raven did, in fact, say Robbie Bourbon was not good enough to be Universal Champion! He's said it, I've said it, Jimmy here has said it! Jenny Myst, Chris Chaos, the list runs far and wide! Anyone who knows one damn thing about wrestling, or about who Robbie is knows he isn't good enough to be Universal Champion! What has he done since gaining the Championship? Beat Gilmour? That right there doesn't count as a defense! That's an easy way out! Engy, James Raven lost the title because he wanted to. He handed it over to Robbie Bourbon! Everyone knows Robbie did nothing to obtain that belt but show up! It was handed over to him like everything else in his career has been! Stop pretending Robbie had an epic match to gain that gold because Engy that didn't happen! Maybe if you were not so busy looking over your shoulder worried about that X-Treem Championship you would have seen the truth by now! Engy, War Games isn't going to be like defending that belt you love so dearly! To win your going to have to put in way more effort than what you are because if this is it! These piss pour promos, we are going to be picking the bones clean once that cage door shuts! Your not just going to kick out of this! We are going to come in and beat the holy living fuck out of you three! Engy, I pick up where I left off with you! I am the one man that made you say "this could be the night"! It was me! No one has come as close as I did! You pulled one over on me last time! Won't happen a second time around! Oh, and in case you haven't forgotten there Engy! You get pinned in this match, you lose that belt! From the outside looking in it would appear as you have much more to lose than your stable mates!

Then Engy you threaten James Fucking Raven? Really? Do you know what James Raven would do to you? Huh? You little shit you! He would tie you up like a pretzel and laugh! If we beat The Mother Fuckers! Engy, let me correct you! When we beat the Mother Fuckers! There will be no astric next to our names in the record books! It will be a win! That's how things are recorded! Wins are wins and losses are losses! Nothing in between! You sound like Chris Chaos! What next? How we screwed you? Engy you screwed Engy when you Joined the Mother Fuckers! You picked a losing horse in the race!

Robert lights a cigar before moving forward

Hey BWB! You said something along the lines of firing a warning shot! Tell me what the hell is that supposed to mean? Haven't you just been firing warning shots all along? Because everything that you have said or even come out with has been utter shot piles of stinking pig shit nothing to them! Warning shots are something you have done your whole career here in XWF! The only thing that you are firing off is blanks pal! Your used to that though am I right? Your entire career here in the XWF is nothing more than a blank! Remind me of anything that you have done in the past here in the XWF that means jack shit?

Robert pauses

Oh, right nothing besides that Television Championship win! You've been sitting idle so fucking long it's unreal! You want to talk to the three of us like you are this major threat! Like you are going to come into this match and actually do something? Please! I take shits that are more of a threat than the bearded war pig! What a joke! What's next? Some more war stories that either didn't happen at all or they are so fabricated it's unreal! After War Games, you'll have one hell of a war story to tell if you survive the match! You can tell the story of how the superhero marine, tucked his tail so far up his pussy and cried like a bitch from the beating he received! There will be one and only one story that can be told after this battle! Pig you will tell the story of how APEX walked into this match and made three of the biggest manliest men beg for mercy! How we rolled The Mother Fuckers like there were not even in the match! How we shook you three to your cores and broke each of you! James Raven or not we are going to walk out of this match as the winners! We are the better team! We have and always will work as a unit unlike the three of you! We are brothers! There are no rats in APEX no backstabbers! We have rolled together since the beginning. Just look at our promos! We worked together, working as one! As a unit! As a team! We didn't rush out one by one and throw around shit just to see if we could get some to stick! No! Unlike the three of you! We worked together, and together we will destroy THE MOTHER FUCKERS!

Geez. When I asked you for your thoughts I thought you'd say something funny like "fuck em" or "Robbie's fat", because that never gets old even though I don't agree with fat shamming. Side note, I do it all the time. But damn did you really have a lot to say. I was tempted to ask Jim for his thoughts too but after hearing how much you had to say I'm kind of afraid to ask that wordy mofo. Dude is like the energizer talker on a cocaine and Red Bull cocktail. Ahh fuck it. I got nothing else to do. Let's go get the big grizzly bear.

Drew and Robert get up from their comfortable seats around the warm fire in search of their partner. As Drew passes a few of the other tent town residents he encourages them to go by the fire for warmth as they continue their search for Jim. It takes about 5 minutes before the pair come across Jim doing exactly what Drew asked him to do, get the druggy vote. Jim is as is typically the case in the midst of a verbal stroll down memory lane regaling the crowd with his tales of his battle with heroine addiction and how he overcame it thank's to friends and God. Ok that last part was total shit. God doesn't give a shit about drug addicts but friendships, they definitely help and Jim had a friend in Robert Main.

Hey Jimbo, how about you let these guys and gals get back to whatever it is they were doing and you come with us. Drew says as he taps Jim on the back, startling him for a moment. And don't forget friends. Vote for Archyle. Polls open up whenever I start coming around collecting votes. And if you don't know how to read or write fear not, I'll be able to help you out.

That seems legit.

You don't even know the half of it.

What's he talking about Drew?

Him? Nothing. He's just cranky because I told him I was going to propose to his sister.

Really? No shit? Congratulations man.

Don't encourage him.

What? Why not?

Yeah Robert. Why not?

Awkward silence.

Just like the awkward silence that follows another one of Bearded War Pig's world renowned 15 second sexual escapades with an Asian Street Woman.

Anyway Jim thanks for doing that for me. I think the druggy vote is going to be the difference maker for me tomorrow. Now before you two fine fellas treat me to a nice warm meal I was wondering what your thoughts are on the Motherfuckers! I want your real deep honest thoughts here. Please don't hold back. Drew says as he deftly places two small ear plugs in his ears.

Ha! When do I EVER hold back? Ironically, that _ain't_ a rhetorical question for once. I've held back a few times here and there...Barney Green, Tommy Wish...and why? 'Cause I ain't a prideless bastard like The Motherfuckers who wouldn't even THINK to hesitate or flinch at the notion of betrayal or ruthlessly victimizing another who can't truly defend his or herself. Like Robbie stabbing Raven in the back, Engy attacking Theo Pryce's WIFE or Pig assaulting competitors during or after matches he ain't even involved in. And speakin' o' the pissant pork chop...

Pig...did I hear you correctly? You ACTUALLY told James. Raven. he shoulda stayed gone? Yeah that's the ticket, twat, let's usher my bro on out, lofty heights of the top 50 Legend that he is, a man who draws the masses and millions along with 'em, two time Uni champ among a staggering plethora of other accolades...then we can all rest assured in the knowledge we still have Bearded War Pig on the roster until he decides to randomly squeal off again. What a trade. Main event for enhancement talent. Entertainment in exchange for kids watching you "fuck" and turning the pages in a comic book. You...don't HONESTLY put stock in that do you? Like your team seems to put stock in the idea James Raven as ref portends some hidden villainous shade in Apex, you clearly ain't been filling that jarhead with anything remotely approaching truth and I blame Engy for that...you ain't smart enough to do a damn thing without receiving an order to do so you pawnsy sailor's slut. Not smart enough to get a poorly aimed point across without Freudian-slipping all over the pig nut you spray in describing James Raven as a...what was it? Oh yes, you said, "tight ripped fuck boy body." Wow. And you advise the people not to let RAVEN fool them in context with emotions boiling beneath the surface? Christ, the more you play at hetero the more it becomes painfully obvious field-fucking your fellow male Marines was a gay priority for you overseas. Don't ask don't tell...well, no one asked but you DAMN sure been tellin' us without blatantly stating it, Andy Blandy Dick. Oh I'm sorry, you had some words for ME specifically? Let's hear 'em, tough guy. Floyd?"

"Jim Caedus the man who claims he is going to hang up and skin the meanest, horniest, and baddest hog to ever graze the XWF. Funny thing about skinning your game, you must hunt, and kill it before you even begin that process."

Well ladeefuckinda, dipshit, you DO realize you just compared yourself to a grazing beast, yes? You DO realize you've defined yourself as prey to a man in a stable named APEX...as in predators, correct? Funny thing about having to catch an animal to skin it, that's about as goes-without-saying a phrase as it gets, gayrod, fuck kinda wisdom are you tryin' to impart here? And "ALMER" Fudd? L-M-A-O...good ol' Almer Fudd outta _Las_ Angeles, right, you irredeemably

fuck-up? There's something poetic in the fact you can't even recall the correct name of the most inept character in Looney Tunes. You ain't no Wild'n Motherfucker, Joshua, you're the Dumbass Motherfucker. Quite literally the dumbest Motherfucker I've ever come across in 21 years in the business. How. HOW...does a 28 year old American not know how to pronounce LOS Angeles or ELMER Fudd? How have you NEVER heard those two spoken or READ THE GODDAMN NAMES!? You illiterate limp dick deaf dullard. Go ahead and echo the words of Engy echoing the words of Theo Pryce 'cause Engy ain't had an original thought in his life...go ahead and tell me there AIN'T no correlation between how STUPID you are and how OFTEN you lose. I dare you. Idiots. And yet...what did Pig say after that, Floyd?"

"Didn’t mean to make you look stupid but it is too easy."

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!! Oh my LORD, yes, yes that's what happened there, Almer Fudd from Las Angeles who was also too fuckin' dense to comprehend my dropping the words "BORDERLINE pedophilia" allude to you having a 13 YEAR OLD BOY WATCHING YOU FUCK A BITCH, yes, YOU made ME look stupid. Point blank, here's the truth:

Your team doesn't like you and don't give a fuck about you. If they did, they wouldn't let you embarrass the dick outta yourself every time you upload a promo. Furthermore, your team don't give a shit how THEY look as a whole for the same damn reason. Yet you keep on talkin' Pig. Just to talk, not to make yourself look better or anything of the sort, just to further illustrate how incredibly easy it is to consistently make you look like a dumbass. Take my advice: shut the fuck up before you do your team further harm in the cred department and just focus on showing us all how "good" you are in the ring. ...Hey Floyd, did ROBBIE try to come at me again?"

"Jimbo, where's that work ethic at? Where's that consistency, week in, week out, beating everybody's asses like it was going out of style?"

Jim laughs. Wait, that's it? Where's my work ethic and consistency beating ass week in week out? Where should I start, the overwhelming amount of effort me and my brothers in Apex put forth in collaborative hype videos these past two weeks or the fact I haven't lost a match since Leap of Faith back in October? That what you mean? Yeah, and where, pray tell, is the ol' Big Bad Big Bad of Big Bads? I see the King of the J0bbers but I don't see the man who caught MY attention with the skill when I signed up last year nor a man who can in any way be defined as consistent with the work ethic. I'd say those months you did fuck all and rested up pretty much equal out with the flurry of low-rent promos you've done for War Games. Like Pig, all you're doing is talking just to talk. Levying criticisms and accusations that hold as much water as a sieve would ain't effort, it's suicide. But again...bullshit, right? The talent of professional wrestlers on the mic has NEVER translated to the ring and the correlation between sucking on the mic and failing in the ring is simply some colossal coincidence that never stops coinciding. Aint that right, _Engy_?

Or...or is the truth that here in the XWF talent is talent in regards to BOTH platforms in promo and physical combat? You stupid pricks wanna keep pushing that tongue-in-cheek weak ass beartrap with a straight face? Fine by me. I'll issue the same challenge I made to Theo in response months and MONTHS ago when the concept was actually fresh: stop hyping your end of the match. Stop. In fact, remove all your promotional videos. Do it, I've had enough of this pathetic ploy and brainless claim. Lead by example Engy, asshole, let's see how far you get because that's the ONLY way making such statements could possibly pay off and uh...hate to admit it...but as much as you hacks love playing pretend, it's my side of the argument that holds ALL the validity through precedent. Shut the fuck up with your FRANTICALLY clogging up the XWF airwaves with nigh TWENTY uninspired promo videos altogether, because "promos don't win matches, that's why we won't stop uploading them as if they DO hold SOME amount of bearing on success in the match and this promotion as a whole". Moron. And by the way...

AWWWWWWWWWWWW, did we piss mistew Dextew Bwight off with our Splooge collaboration? That what saw you SUDDENLY responding faster than you have these last two weeks with a hasty and botch filled load o' shit aimed purely at me? And you predicted _I'd_ be angry? Engy...I WISH you coulda been a fly on the wall when Apex watched it together, you'd have seen, and they'll back it up, Jim Caedus LAUGHING, ECSTATIC that you thought to make this is as easy for me as Pig has been. I'll repeat what I said in Splooge: you're done. Done impressing in comparison to Caedus. Done smiling that shiteating grin believing you're better than not just me but everyone else. Done intimidating the rest of the roster like you NEVER intimidated me. Yeah, you pissed me off before...but you ain't done it since, shitbrick...now I'M the one pissin YOU off. And it's gonna remain that way far beyond Apex not only crushing your stable but going on to win War Games outright. You have plans for me? What a coinkydink...I have plans for you. Let's see who comes out on top you pissy poser punkass. But fuck all that for now...let's see if The Motherfuckers actually have what it takes to shut down Apex."

Hey Jim I got a question for you and don't take offense to this but have you ever considered taking switching to decaf? Drew asks as he nonchalantly removes his ear plugs without anyone noticing.

Haha real funny! So what are we eating? Caedus responds with a half forced smile.

Well since you guys are paying I should at least do is pick the restaurant for you. Wouldn't want you guys to have to do everything. That's just rude.

How thoughtful!

You know me. Always thinking about my fellow man. But not in a gay way, not that there's anything wrong with that but you know how Pig get's his thong in a twist if you mention anything gay. Even though he does so ad nauseam.

You see his latest rant bro? He had plenty to say about you?

I did in fact. It was really nice of him to take some time out of his busy schedule shit talking a guy whose only involvement in the match is as a ref to address the guys he's actually facing. But I'll get to that later. I found it utterly fascinating that Pig went on diatribe in which he got all pissy because I supposedly disrespected his platoon mates. Which was interesting because the only time I ever even brought those folks up was when I said tongue in cheek mind you that he and his buddies gave each other hummers in actual hummers and the only way to really take offense to that is if you have some sort of issue with homosexual acts. Which, obviously Pig does. We've been over that repeatedly. And I could go the tried and true route of mentioning how the people often most vocal about gays are in fact people living in the closet themselves but I won't go that route. And not because I don't think Pig is a closeted homosexual, he definitely is by the way. No I won't go down that road because I have absolutely no issue with gays, or lesbians or bi sexuals or whatever else is on the spectrum these days. I'm all for love of any kind. Straight love. Gay love. Or in Pig's case animal love as it were. As it happens I got a friend who has a huge pig named Taco, I have a feeling he and lil Ms. Piggy would hit it off. So let me know if you want me to make an introduction Josh.

But back to the point and here's the important thing Pig, if you want to say things like you hope my in ring skills are better than my burns, intimating that my burns suck, or that my words aren't worth your time and energy, then it would be best if you don't say all of that while in the midst of a long winded rant in which you are getting red faced every passing second as you talk about my not so sick burns and my worthless words. Try not to talk out of both sides of your mouth you dumb ditty. Otherwise your promos start becoming even more unwatchable than they already are. Seriously, I feel like I need to take LSD just to try and understand that bullshit that you are spewing.

I'm sure guys like Robbie give you a light little pat on the ass and an "atta boy" telling you how great you did but the truth is all your nonsensical bullshit has done nothing but earn you our match's official participation trophy. I'm sure your mom will be thrilled to death to display it on her fridge.

So dinner? Where we going?

Oh sure you guys get to rant for what feels like an eternity but I say 15 words and suddenly you guys wanna push the conversation along. That has to be some sort of discrimination.

I'm just saying I'm kinda hungry!

Just follow me. I can walk and talk. Unlike you two.

The trio exit the small tent city and head down a small alleyway towards the downtown part of the city.

You know what I find most intriguing about how things have played out recently? Aside from the fact that the big tough guy Robbie has basically acted like I'm a foot note in this match. Guy can barely let me name slip through his lips. Especially lately. It's ridiculous. At best he's making a grave mistake in underestimating me. At worst he's too much of a bitch to come at me directly and instead he'd prefer to play pussy ass head games and try to get the last word in as if it will make a damn bit of difference in how things shake down. He might think he's sneaky but people paying attention, they know. They always know. But back to what really matters. The most intriguing thing about this match is that ever since it was announced that the old fossil James Raven was going to be the ref of our match all three Motherfuckers shifted their attention off of us and directly on him. Their eyes as wide as Robbie's Bourbon's poop-shoot as they go on and on about how he is going to ruin the match. How his involvement shifts the tides. Actually let me take that back. Only Pig and Engy felt that Raven's being involved was some kind of difference maker. Robbie with is infinite hubris played it down. But not before cutting a few promos talking about how much of a non factor Raven is. But the other two, you could hear the pee hitting the floor as they talked about Raven like he were some ace up our sleeve. James Raven may be one of the best wrestlers to ever walk the Earth. Though he did lose the title to Robbie, a title he only earned because he beat a woman in the first place, so maybe his greatness is a little overstated to begin with. But regardless of that and this can not be made any more clear to these guys than what I am about to say right now.

James Raven...

Is...

The

Ref!

That's it. One of you guys are acting like James Raven is no big deal while the other two act like he is the big bad wolf hell bent on destroying the Mother Fuckers. I've said it before but apparently you guys don't listen, but it would really help your guys cause if you got on the same page. You haven't done it all week and that is going to make the difference come War Games. While Apex has spent almost the entire week getting better acquainted with each other in and out of the the ring the three of you have been doing your own thing. It has never been more clear than now how much Apex is like a brotherhood and the Motherfuckers are three guys with diverging agendas. Maybe if you three spent some time with each other the three of you combined could have come to the same conclusion that anyone with even half of a brain already has and that's that James Raven is the most irrelevant part of this match. Literally not worth your time and effort and yet you guys have devoted far more time to trying to dress him down than he deserves. Let me repeat myself. James Raven is the ref. One guy. Focusing on him while ignoring us is the stupidest thing you three have done during two weeks in which you guys have committed mistakes as often as I take a crap. Which is twice a day everyday. I'm pretty regular like that. James is going to do what he is going to do but it can be absolutely mitigated if you three put your empty skulls together and thought about it. But since I am 100% convinced that you three are not only too stupid to come up with any ideas on your own and too chickenshit to act on them even if you did I'll give you some free advice. If James is such a big deal then take him out. Throw him a beating in the parking lot or the dressing room or at the airport. Maybe take him out during the match. You know what happens when a ref gets knocked out mid match? They just send another one in. Easy peasy. So simple you'd think a guy named The Engineer could have figured it out. Must have gotten his degree from the same place the Basic Bitch Doctor got his PhD. Anyway that's all I really have to say. I feel like I've already said too much.

Alright we're here.

The trio look up to see "La Scarola" restaurant.

Looks expensive!

I wouldn't know. When you don't have any money you don't really spend any time thinking about it.

Drew stands there and waits a moment for Jim to get the hint and open the door which he eventually does. Drew is the first person inside followed by Robert with Jim bringing up the rear.

OOC: Been a fun week rping against all of you guys. Thank you.]]>

Chicago

Chris Chaos. It's a deal. You have my back and I'll have yours."

McBride tapped his glass with Scully's before downing his rum.

"I love the burn. Now that we got all that shite out of the way. Let's talk about our opponents. That Danny lad ran his mouth about us. Have you seen his vein effect of a a promo? I was falling asleep before I hear my name coming from his mouth."

Skull nodded his head in agreement with McBride. He then downed his shot if rum too.

"Yeah I get what you're saying, Danny Imperial thinks he's Mister Big Bollocks but let's face it, the guy is a

and I know all about those."

"Oh he's fucking retared alright if he thinks that you and I are going to be a walk in the park. The man is a fool. More so then his lizard fucking captain. What the fuck has any of them done? Danny won the Hart title. Been there done that. I've held more titles than all of them combined, but if Danny thinks we aren't a threat. Let him. He'll learn. They always do."

"Danny has had the TV title, don't forget that one. More importantly he beat me in his debut match. Well that fat ompah lumpah, Heyman intervened to distract me and to be honest I was impressed with Imperial after that. But as times gone on, I've found him more and more annoying. Let's just put it this way, I'm not so impressed any more. He's gotten way to big for his boots and he's only a size 5"

"You got that right. He has gotten too big for his boots. He's nothing nothing more than a small fish, swimming with Great White Sharks. Now for this Erik Black. Who the fuck is he. What the fuck has he done? Nothing. Not a god damn thing. "

"Erik Black? Didn't he lose a title to Neville Sinclair recently? Other than that... I don't have a clue. If I seen him, I wouldn't even know it was him."

"I guess he did but other than that. He's pretty much useless. For the life of me. I can't think of anything amazing he's done. He's kind of just there. Standing in the background like an unwanted stepchild. A waste of space. Much like R.L. Edgar. He seems to be one of those emos. I think that's what kids call those type of people. I'm not sure. He's really a fucking loser. He needs to stick a gun in his mouth and end it all. It will save him the pain that we'll put him through."

"I'm pretty sure that's the life of an emo. Paint their nails, have a stupidly long fringe, be a loner, be a depressive fuck that hate their lives and wish they would die. The truth is they might say they want to commit suicide but they just want attention. Is that what you're saying R.L aka REAL LOSER is like?"

"His personality.. Yeah. Aye. Now, come to find out. Grande Ricardo, is that tranny loving, incest, more useless than tits on a bull Frodo. I thought he killed himself, which is a shame. The world was a happier place without his annoying ass around."

"I know right?! I bet the little turd is planning to rape one of our bumholes as we speak or someone's at least.. Well I got news for that little shrimp. He can suck a dick.. But then again, he'd like that too."

As Skull went to poor another couple of shots for himself and McBride, a overly drunken, muscular meat head 'accidentally' knocks the bottle in Scullys hand. Needless to say, a bit of rum is wasted. The bald headed in visual sarcastically says "Oops!" A smirk appears on his face. Scully reacts straight away....

"Excuse me would me nice. Maybe an apology.

"Fuxk....."

Before the troublemaker can say another word, McBride smashes a pint glass straight over baldies head. Blood immediately runs down his face and he drops to the floor. Four big men playing pool or should i say 8 ball, look over and walk towards Scully and McBride straight away. Two of them have cues in hand and they all looked pretty angry. It comes apparent that these men are friends of the guy McBride glasses. Skull shakes his head at McBride and then shrugs, headbutting the first guy that approaches them and breaking his nose in the process. Another guy swings his cue at McBride, who swiftly ducks and the cue smashes the barman round the head, knocking him to the floor. McBride grabs the cue and kicks this bloke in the nuts, the guy falls to his knees and Michael hits him round the side of the head, knocking him down. Two down, okay three... Don't forget the guy who started it. Scully ducks a left and then a right hook from third asshole, I mean fourth. Skull counters with an explosive uppercut that knocks the guy over a table, smashing some half empty glasses. Just one left who also had a cue, before he could attack.. He is attacked with pepper spray from the barman. Scully and McBride casually sit back on their stools ignoring the carnage behind them.....

"How excited are you bunch of pricks? Super excited right? Cuz Scully is fucking in! Yes, I am on Team Unknown Soldiers and to be perfectly honest, I am not unknown! I know exactly what sort of Soldier I am... I am the fuckin' Sergeant Major! Yeah I may not be the so called Captain but I don't need to be, I have never been on the losing team at WarGames. My teammates can count on me and I can count on me too! Can't be any worse than Chasm right? Fuck Chasm! Yeah I said it, fuck him.. Those who hesitate, masturbate?!

Firstly the name 'Unknown Soldiers'... should to be changed. I mean not only is It lame but it is irrelevant considering captain marvel couldn't be bothered to show, hence why he also got the chop. But who really cares about a stupid fucking name?! Well I suppose it depends how pathetic it actually is. We will now be KNOWN as Scullys Army!

Introducing my teammates.. My troops so to speak...

The legendary James Raven, he returned while ago to claim the XWF Universal Championship only to lose it to Robbie Bourbon. But everyone who is a real Xtreme Wrestling Federation fan knows Raven. James replaced Mr. No Show, Unknown Soldier. Me and James have never fought each other, we've never teamed together, we've never shared the same ring as each other but we have shared some back and fourth banter on Twitter though, that was fun. Whether we like it or not, we're on the same team.

Michael McBride, our lucky Irish pal. Yeah we have never seen eye to eye, maybe you dispise me, you've said it before. At least you took the time to find me and let me know I was now part of this team. We agreed that we will have each other's back, that's what teammates do. I gotta admit it was fun to get wasted with you.

And last of all....

Chris Chaos, one half of the tag team champions. Since D'Ville handed him one half of the tag titles after I tripped out of the ring in the Rumble match, both Chris and his partner, Jim Caedus are at logger heads. I hope you can be a team player for this one Chris.. Scullys Army can be overall winners, that is for sure!

Our opponents... Dragon Pals. Ahhhhhhhhhh what a scary team name, really?! I'm shaking in my boots. What about calling yourselves "The Pissflaps?" Or "The Bumders?" I can see why you called yourselves the Dragon Pals, right? Not just cuz the captain has a fetish for fuckin lizards (literally) but also because the members of the team are absolutely pathetic. A lame name for a lame team.

The four losers are:

Grande Ricardo
Danny Imperial
Erik Black
R.L. Edgar

The first guy I'm going to talk about is Erik Black. He looks the part, a juiced up roid Cunt with some shit tattoos that my toddler son drew on him. He looks the part but that doesn't make him a wrestler does it? What are you doing Vincent? Shane

? Putting me in the same ring as this vagina? Are you hoping he picks me up for a powerbomb and drops me on my head so my neck breaks? Well I got news for you, Erik you won't be botching any moves on me, I'll jab you in the throat you fuckin dweeb!

R.L aka REAL LOSER who looks like trailer park trash with his shit on his face and his drawers full of five dollar checked shirts. Shave ya fuckin caterpillar off ya face, you skit rat. Now you're entering the ring with Scully, be afraid, I'm going to annihilate you. You've had like one or maybe two matches since you come to the XWF and you think you can hang with me? Pffft. Bitch please. The only thing you can hang, is yourself! You Pringle man looking prick!

Now the worst two of a bad bunch are out the way now I can concentrate on the other two.

Danny Imperial, Mister way too big for his size 5's (UK size) ranting and raving about how much I suck? If I suck then you just blow! Look at you, you long haired, petroleum jelly looking bastard, like I care what you think. I heard what you said and quite frankly I find you more annoying than I did before. You're like the fly that won't fuck off, buzzing around and chatting bare shit until... Squash! You're done for bitch. You faced me in your first match here and since then you think you're the man. Let me get this straight, if I'm that bad like you make out then why did you boast about beating me? You know you got lucky, not to mention that BIG assist you got. Also.you might remember the Rumble too recently? You was in the last four with me, right? If I was that shit, I wouldn't be there in the first place would I? You got ya ass tossed out! I said out, not off, I know you got excited then. Whilst I stumbled out. But I won't be tripping up at WarGames but one thing is for sure.. You're gonna be Scullanated!

Now lets talk about this Grande Ricardo, the oh so intimidating captain. Otherwise known as the lizard fucker. Not so long ago I was meant to be facing Finn Khan one on one and this tool thought he'd include his scaley self to make it a triple threat match. Not only that make it a bopper match. I was attending to serious business with Finn and then you got involved. How did that pan out for ya? I was so pissed off, I took off that stupid fucking bopper and I jabbed Khan right in the face to get disqualified. You however, got y'all Dragon bumming ass beaten by him. But now we have the Grand revealing, okay maybe not so GRANDE. Not even that BIG in fact. The truth be told it's quite small and it's nothing any one could give a Munchkin about. Ricardo took off his heels, took off his stilts, took off the lizard mask and ahhhhhhhhhh put it back on you little scrotum. Frodo 'fuckin' smackhead has returned to no one giving a fuck. Whoopty doo dar. Who I am? What? Who you are? You mean Willow More's

, midget brother? Yay... You're back. We look forward to loads of gay sex, men being bummed, some transgender called Mandy and lots of talk about shit and cum. I can't contain my orgasm. Damn.. I shot my load but it wasn't my seamen, no.. No... It was a revolver right it in your fuckin' bowling ball head. I've had shits bigger than you. I'm searching my pockets and I can't seem to find it... Where's my give a fucks? Try my cup.. But it's empty. That's how much fucks I give that it was you all along. It's the smallest surprise ever... And I know it's the Festive season but what a shit Crimbo present for the XWF Galaxy... Here ya go, have Frodo... To be fair that's all you twats deserve.. A little piece of shit for your crimbo presents and his name... Frodo.

Let's go to Warrrrrrrrrrrrr........
Da End, Scully Has Spoken!"

Location: Nats house, Miami, FL

Christmas is both a sacred religious holiday and a worldwide cultural and commercial phenomenon. For two millennia, people around the world have been observing it with traditions and practices that are both religious and secular in nature. Christians celebrate Christmas Day as the anniversary of the birth of Jesus of Nazareth, a spiritual leader whose teachings form the basis of their religion. Popular customs include exchanging gifts, decorating Christmas trees, attending church, sharing meals with family and friends and, of course, waiting for Santa Claus to arrive. December 25–Christmas Day–has been a federal holiday in the United States since 1870. But it is not only celebrated in America, it is celebrated around the world. It is traditionally characterised by tinsel-decorated trees, mince pies, present-giving and a turkey dinner. Families come together to eat, drink, be merry and argue over xmas TV, whereas children look forward to a visit from Santa Claus and his sack of presents. Firstly do you actually believe that Jesus is the son of God? Or do you think that Mary had an affair with Joseph's brother? He might not have a brother, I don't know. But anyway it was looking as though Scully was spending Crimbo alone.

Scully had Natalie had been getting on very well as of late, as mentioned 500 times previously (over exaggeration) and they had been enjoying a bit of fun in the bedroom department, even though they hadn't agreed they were back together. Skull was trying to earn Nats trust back, after all it was him who did the dirty and was unfaithful. It 8.15pm and Skull was helping Natalie to wrap some presents in the living room. Little Aston was fast asleep in his bed. Scully and Nat couldn't help but gaze at each other as they put the Festive paper around the presents. Skull wanted to say something that been on his mind and although he wasn't sure of Nats reaction, it was now or never. You never know unless you try.

"Nat..."

"Yeah.'.Natalie looked up as she answered, wondering what was on Skulls mind.

"I wanna just tell you something. First of all, I have gotten you some presents... "

"Wow you actually making an effort?! What is it?" Nat smiled to let Skull know she was just playing.

"I did, I did.. Hahaha. Well, you'll have to wait till chrismas day. Hehe.

Well I need to tell you that I miss us. I love you, and I want to be with you. I know I messed up but I will never do anything like that again... "

"I love you too. I also want us to be together and right now I say for us to take it slow. I'll let you stay Christmas Eve so you can wake up with me Christmas Day. We can watch Aston open his presents as a family but I don't think you should move back in just yet. At this moment, I want you."

Natalie suddenly leans in for a kiss of Scully and the passion begins to flow. Looks like Skull won't be spending Christmas on his own.]]> <![CDATA[War Games RP]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30125 Thu, 21 Dec 2017 23:58:26 -0800 James Raven]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30125
I threw this together in the last two or three hours, but it's nothing mind blowing (the trash talk is pretty terrible honestly) but I wanted to make sure I got something up for the team and I'll try to get another one tomorrow... though I work 10am-1030pm so we'll see how that goes.

Good luck everyone, it was fun to pop in.
http://www.angelfire.com/games2/xwf2/Rav...Games.html]]>
I threw this together in the last two or three hours, but it's nothing mind blowing (the trash talk is pretty terrible honestly) but I wanted to make sure I got something up for the team and I'll try to get another one tomorrow... though I work 10am-1030pm so we'll see how that goes.

Good luck everyone, it was fun to pop in.
http://www.angelfire.com/games2/xwf2/Rav...Games.html]]> <![CDATA[Possum, Donkey, and a Cunt]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30123 Thu, 21 Dec 2017 22:49:59 -0800 "The Wolf of Afghanistan" Joshua Schuler]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30123 "What the fuck is up XWF Motherfuckin Universe?! Bearded War Pig here just performing last minute maintenance on the BOOM train because at War Games a lot of Motherfuckers purchased tickets for a ride. A one-way ride, straight to BOOM town! Motherfuckers like Apex, Jenny Mist, Doc D’Ville, James Raven, Michael Graves, Chris Chaos, and many others. Like always we the Motherfuckers have the odds stacked against us, but what fun would it be without a challenge? Bwarhahaha! So, what say we? We say all aboard Motherfuckers because upon arrival to BOOM town, ya’ll gonna be blessed with a complimentary Wargasm from yours truly! Maybe throw in a couple Devil Dog Drops here and there.

Wait there is more. Ya’ll also will be receiving free Robbie Bombs, and Fuck You, Eat Shit’s. Bam! War Games in a fuckin nut shell. No one is going to forget the fuckery the Motherfuckers spread at the twenty-seventeen XWF War Games. That’s for damn sure! No one in Boom town will be left out, we truly believe in equal rights, and will make sure everyone get’s a fare share of ass whoopin! I promise Apex won’t be the only ones having their wigs split. First, but not the only.

So, I guess I will start out by asking Drew Archyle if you happen to be listening bub. The Bearded Wonder of the World has some words for you. Disrespect me, talk about how I am the weakest link, call me a cock sucker… None of that matters. Don’t fucking bring men that sacrificed their lives for shit fucks like you to have the opportunity to bring a whole stadium to snores. My platoon mates would make you make them a sandwich before and after the pounding they’d give you. For the rude fucking comments about heroes to this grand nation, after War Games you’ll be hanging on to my pocket inside out. Give you a little taste of your past.

What do I have from serving my country, I have benefits that last for life. I have unbreakable bonds with brother’s that would kill for me. I have the people behind me. I have the mind set, tactical skills, and capability to end a man’s life. All things that are going to play part in ripping off your fucking head and shitting down your ungrateful throat. Without my prior service I wouldn’t be here now to instill the discipline you are in much need of. See Drew just because you are a dipshit and can’t figure some simple solutions for yourself I had to go and point them out blatantly.

Please for the love of god, I hope I won’t have to walk you through our match. That would be a real shit show bro. Plus I don’t have the patience to try and teach a talentless hack how the big dogs perform. See the fans have bought out tickets, sold out viewing venues all over the globe to watch, the Motherfucker’s rip new assholes for three fucktards. Decent fucktards. Still fucktards. If your in-ring talents aren’t better than your burns, Vinnie Lane might have some major refunding to conduct.

Not that the people don’t love watching Motherfuckers hand out ass whoopins all night long. They’d just like to get a little worried now and again that the loved ones might just get bested. Get the heart racing a little, then, wham, bam, and thank you mam! We lay our enemies down shoulders flat for the one, two, and three. That is the only future I’m seeing brah! You are sitting there trying to predict mine, when you fucks don’t even have faith in yourselves to guide your own destiny. Instead you look for the aid in a pissed and broken winged Raven. Now that is just sad. Newly formed stable’s first match and ya’ll require aid. Fuckin bitch made every one of you vagina packin sons of bitches!

Yet you still have the audacity to try to mock and belittle men that wouldn’t just fight their own battles but as well as the ones for people to weak, afraid, or just unable. You shouldn’t even be a waste of my breath you sniveling little twat waffle. Yet here I am drawing in air to call you out on your heinous bullshit about my past, present, and future. Get the fuck out of here Ms. Cleo! Ain’t a Motherfucker buying into your three dollars and seventy-two cents a minute crock of shit. That pansy ass shit may have worked great elsewhere, not here, not in the Motherfucker’s XWF!

We will look each other in the eye’s at War Games and you will see me go from playing GAMES. To all out WAR! All it will take is three, not one, not two, but three rings of the bell. That is when the games you clearly said you weren’t playing or getting involved in come to and end. Ding. Ding. Ding! That final piercing sound of the bell is my switch and well I won’t switch back until I hear the same noise again. Oh, you can bet your ass that means you and your goons are going to feel the wrath of a survivor of war. The spirits of all those who have fallen before me and those still fighting America’s battles in the land, air, and sea will be your enemy. Their power instilled within every blow, strike, punch, claw, bite, scratch, or maneuver I perform. Oh, and Drewsy Losey they are fucking pissed!

Might as well do what you do best possum, play dead.

Now on to the donkey or jack ass of the Apex. Robert Main, the Hart Champion. In my head you are the ASS! I mean what kind of man runs his cock holster like he has the biggest set of balls on the planet. Like him and his two butt buds are unstoppable for like a week and some odd change. Suddenly you run to the nest with a plan because you don’t believe you have what it takes. To try and recruit for the cause. Fucking weak sauce. You and your whole outfit. But. Wait. It gets better? You even went to as far as going to an ex-member knowing you would need the best of the best. Bwarhahaha. Too bad it wouldn’t change the outcome of our bout if you could have convinced the entire XWF retired roster to come to your aid.

Do I blame you for looking for a handicap bumper? Hell no. Shit, if I was told I had to face XWF’s very own Motherfuckers, I would want all the help I could get too. It’s just so cute how none of you shitheads meant anything you said this whole fucking time. Like how can one who admits they need help have called me a multiple time Champion with multiple different belts BWB, Bearded War Bitch. Kind of hilarious if I do say so. Really. You don’t get it? Bringing Raven into this match was probably one of the bitchiest moves you could have pulled Robert, way to try to project your feelings about yourself on me though. Maybe next time you will face someone who doesn’t pay attention to detail.

Seriously though before I had you pictured as the donkey because you are an asshole. Now you’ve shown me that you are not just any donkey, but the most bitch made donkey ever. Robert ‘Eeyore’ Main. How’d Raven’s bird cock taste after all I am sure the pretty boy needed a release before signing his death wish. Do you believe he is going to fly in, peck out our eyes, and allow you to beat us while we are blind? More fairy tale nonsense from the quickest forming and dismantled stable to ever walk the halls of XWF. Apex beating us will not be occurring at War Games period.

You all may call Robbie a paper champion, me the weak link, and Engy stupid for grasping our forearm in a Motherfucking bond of brothers. Only because you want to try and pry a wedge, well it didn’t work. We are a flawless unit, each of us brings our own little fuck to the table. Robbie makes the Universal Championship look good. Where in the Hart Championship makes you look good, we all know you are not. How in the world did you ever best Danny Imperial blows my fucking mind? Ever since that kid stepped foot here in the XWF, I personally became a fan. All well. Sometimes even the best of us have our days.

By the way I hope that Hart Championship has been treating you nicely. I may have just found my replacement gold. No sense of going back for my TV Championship when I could take the Hart from you with ease. A coward who begs for the help because he is afraid to fight his own battles doesn’t deserve such a prestige Championship. Now think about that long and hard because this Bearded War Bitch is going to becoming for you and well I’m gonna rip your Hart right out of your chest. War Games is my chance to soften you up and bleed you out. So, when I do go in for the kill, you are lifeless. Forcing you to stare up at a real apex predator with your Hart in my hand. You covered in your own blood looking up at a real Champion wishing you would have never tangled with the Motherfuckers!

Apex is not the only ones though; a lot of the roster is feeling the same way. At least about me anyway. Which brings me to my next victim under the scalpel. Jenny ‘My Wet Dreams’ Mist. Why, why do you feel I am the weakest link, because I’m the one without gold? Please, some could argue that makes me more dangerous, I have something more to prove. Any who, why’d you have to go and spew my name from your mouth anyways? I don’t even really know you. Please though if you make it to the finals make sure you find me in the ring and I will show you just exactly how devastating the weakest link of the Motherfuckers can be.

Let’s say I am the weakest link. What does that make you the strongest on your team? Bwarhahaha! Maybe if Robbie wasn’t placed on your team as a filler. That can’t be good news for you and your team if you make it to the finals. Since Robbie for sure would be competing in them on our side and not yours. Maybe just lay down and let Michael Graves, Dirty PP, Finn Kuhn, and Doc D’Ville just have their way with you. No. Fine then make it to the finals and I’ll make sure you are perfectly PINK MISTED all over the arena in Tokyo. Now ain’t that a Motherfucker?!
Same goes for you Doc, Chris Chaos, and any other high valued individuals that might find themselves in the final match at War Games. War Is drawing near, I am prepared for battle, my enemies are prepared for battle. Now we end the games, draw our blades, and charge into the violence. Every last single fuck who doesn’t believe in Bearded War Pig will soon be displayed in heaps of bodies for the XWF Universe to witness I still have what it takes to dominate the battle field. We are just days away, eat your Wheaties, tighten your laces, pull up your jock straps, Velcro your flak jackets, and place on your Kevlar helmets War Games is among us and this hog is War crazed!

Oink, Oink Motherfuckers!”]]> "What the fuck is up XWF Motherfuckin Universe?! Bearded War Pig here just performing last minute maintenance on the BOOM train because at War Games a lot of Motherfuckers purchased tickets for a ride. A one-way ride, straight to BOOM town! Motherfuckers like Apex, Jenny Mist, Doc D’Ville, James Raven, Michael Graves, Chris Chaos, and many others. Like always we the Motherfuckers have the odds stacked against us, but what fun would it be without a challenge? Bwarhahaha! So, what say we? We say all aboard Motherfuckers because upon arrival to BOOM town, ya’ll gonna be blessed with a complimentary Wargasm from yours truly! Maybe throw in a couple Devil Dog Drops here and there.

Wait there is more. Ya’ll also will be receiving free Robbie Bombs, and Fuck You, Eat Shit’s. Bam! War Games in a fuckin nut shell. No one is going to forget the fuckery the Motherfuckers spread at the twenty-seventeen XWF War Games. That’s for damn sure! No one in Boom town will be left out, we truly believe in equal rights, and will make sure everyone get’s a fare share of ass whoopin! I promise Apex won’t be the only ones having their wigs split. First, but not the only.

So, I guess I will start out by asking Drew Archyle if you happen to be listening bub. The Bearded Wonder of the World has some words for you. Disrespect me, talk about how I am the weakest link, call me a cock sucker… None of that matters. Don’t fucking bring men that sacrificed their lives for shit fucks like you to have the opportunity to bring a whole stadium to snores. My platoon mates would make you make them a sandwich before and after the pounding they’d give you. For the rude fucking comments about heroes to this grand nation, after War Games you’ll be hanging on to my pocket inside out. Give you a little taste of your past.

What do I have from serving my country, I have benefits that last for life. I have unbreakable bonds with brother’s that would kill for me. I have the people behind me. I have the mind set, tactical skills, and capability to end a man’s life. All things that are going to play part in ripping off your fucking head and shitting down your ungrateful throat. Without my prior service I wouldn’t be here now to instill the discipline you are in much need of. See Drew just because you are a dipshit and can’t figure some simple solutions for yourself I had to go and point them out blatantly.

Please for the love of god, I hope I won’t have to walk you through our match. That would be a real shit show bro. Plus I don’t have the patience to try and teach a talentless hack how the big dogs perform. See the fans have bought out tickets, sold out viewing venues all over the globe to watch, the Motherfucker’s rip new assholes for three fucktards. Decent fucktards. Still fucktards. If your in-ring talents aren’t better than your burns, Vinnie Lane might have some major refunding to conduct.

Not that the people don’t love watching Motherfuckers hand out ass whoopins all night long. They’d just like to get a little worried now and again that the loved ones might just get bested. Get the heart racing a little, then, wham, bam, and thank you mam! We lay our enemies down shoulders flat for the one, two, and three. That is the only future I’m seeing brah! You are sitting there trying to predict mine, when you fucks don’t even have faith in yourselves to guide your own destiny. Instead you look for the aid in a pissed and broken winged Raven. Now that is just sad. Newly formed stable’s first match and ya’ll require aid. Fuckin bitch made every one of you vagina packin sons of bitches!

Yet you still have the audacity to try to mock and belittle men that wouldn’t just fight their own battles but as well as the ones for people to weak, afraid, or just unable. You shouldn’t even be a waste of my breath you sniveling little twat waffle. Yet here I am drawing in air to call you out on your heinous bullshit about my past, present, and future. Get the fuck out of here Ms. Cleo! Ain’t a Motherfucker buying into your three dollars and seventy-two cents a minute crock of shit. That pansy ass shit may have worked great elsewhere, not here, not in the Motherfucker’s XWF!

We will look each other in the eye’s at War Games and you will see me go from playing GAMES. To all out WAR! All it will take is three, not one, not two, but three rings of the bell. That is when the games you clearly said you weren’t playing or getting involved in come to and end. Ding. Ding. Ding! That final piercing sound of the bell is my switch and well I won’t switch back until I hear the same noise again. Oh, you can bet your ass that means you and your goons are going to feel the wrath of a survivor of war. The spirits of all those who have fallen before me and those still fighting America’s battles in the land, air, and sea will be your enemy. Their power instilled within every blow, strike, punch, claw, bite, scratch, or maneuver I perform. Oh, and Drewsy Losey they are fucking pissed!

Might as well do what you do best possum, play dead.

Now on to the donkey or jack ass of the Apex. Robert Main, the Hart Champion. In my head you are the ASS! I mean what kind of man runs his cock holster like he has the biggest set of balls on the planet. Like him and his two butt buds are unstoppable for like a week and some odd change. Suddenly you run to the nest with a plan because you don’t believe you have what it takes. To try and recruit for the cause. Fucking weak sauce. You and your whole outfit. But. Wait. It gets better? You even went to as far as going to an ex-member knowing you would need the best of the best. Bwarhahaha. Too bad it wouldn’t change the outcome of our bout if you could have convinced the entire XWF retired roster to come to your aid.

Do I blame you for looking for a handicap bumper? Hell no. Shit, if I was told I had to face XWF’s very own Motherfuckers, I would want all the help I could get too. It’s just so cute how none of you shitheads meant anything you said this whole fucking time. Like how can one who admits they need help have called me a multiple time Champion with multiple different belts BWB, Bearded War Bitch. Kind of hilarious if I do say so. Really. You don’t get it? Bringing Raven into this match was probably one of the bitchiest moves you could have pulled Robert, way to try to project your feelings about yourself on me though. Maybe next time you will face someone who doesn’t pay attention to detail.

Seriously though before I had you pictured as the donkey because you are an asshole. Now you’ve shown me that you are not just any donkey, but the most bitch made donkey ever. Robert ‘Eeyore’ Main. How’d Raven’s bird cock taste after all I am sure the pretty boy needed a release before signing his death wish. Do you believe he is going to fly in, peck out our eyes, and allow you to beat us while we are blind? More fairy tale nonsense from the quickest forming and dismantled stable to ever walk the halls of XWF. Apex beating us will not be occurring at War Games period.

You all may call Robbie a paper champion, me the weak link, and Engy stupid for grasping our forearm in a Motherfucking bond of brothers. Only because you want to try and pry a wedge, well it didn’t work. We are a flawless unit, each of us brings our own little fuck to the table. Robbie makes the Universal Championship look good. Where in the Hart Championship makes you look good, we all know you are not. How in the world did you ever best Danny Imperial blows my fucking mind? Ever since that kid stepped foot here in the XWF, I personally became a fan. All well. Sometimes even the best of us have our days.

By the way I hope that Hart Championship has been treating you nicely. I may have just found my replacement gold. No sense of going back for my TV Championship when I could take the Hart from you with ease. A coward who begs for the help because he is afraid to fight his own battles doesn’t deserve such a prestige Championship. Now think about that long and hard because this Bearded War Bitch is going to becoming for you and well I’m gonna rip your Hart right out of your chest. War Games is my chance to soften you up and bleed you out. So, when I do go in for the kill, you are lifeless. Forcing you to stare up at a real apex predator with your Hart in my hand. You covered in your own blood looking up at a real Champion wishing you would have never tangled with the Motherfuckers!

Apex is not the only ones though; a lot of the roster is feeling the same way. At least about me anyway. Which brings me to my next victim under the scalpel. Jenny ‘My Wet Dreams’ Mist. Why, why do you feel I am the weakest link, because I’m the one without gold? Please, some could argue that makes me more dangerous, I have something more to prove. Any who, why’d you have to go and spew my name from your mouth anyways? I don’t even really know you. Please though if you make it to the finals make sure you find me in the ring and I will show you just exactly how devastating the weakest link of the Motherfuckers can be.

Let’s say I am the weakest link. What does that make you the strongest on your team? Bwarhahaha! Maybe if Robbie wasn’t placed on your team as a filler. That can’t be good news for you and your team if you make it to the finals. Since Robbie for sure would be competing in them on our side and not yours. Maybe just lay down and let Michael Graves, Dirty PP, Finn Kuhn, and Doc D’Ville just have their way with you. No. Fine then make it to the finals and I’ll make sure you are perfectly PINK MISTED all over the arena in Tokyo. Now ain’t that a Motherfucker?!
Same goes for you Doc, Chris Chaos, and any other high valued individuals that might find themselves in the final match at War Games. War Is drawing near, I am prepared for battle, my enemies are prepared for battle. Now we end the games, draw our blades, and charge into the violence. Every last single fuck who doesn’t believe in Bearded War Pig will soon be displayed in heaps of bodies for the XWF Universe to witness I still have what it takes to dominate the battle field. We are just days away, eat your Wheaties, tighten your laces, pull up your jock straps, Velcro your flak jackets, and place on your Kevlar helmets War Games is among us and this hog is War crazed!

Oink, Oink Motherfuckers!”]]> <![CDATA[The Fire Still Burns Part 3]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30113 Thu, 21 Dec 2017 20:56:26 -0800 Chris Chaos]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30113 Continued

The boys in the room all looked at each other.....all of them were whiter than printer paper. The knock on the door got louder, and it sounded as if there were increasing numbers coming up the stairs. There may even be a dog or two.

"What do we do?" one kid whispered. Mac was cool, calm, collected. Like he had seen this 100 times before, like he had lived it. Like this was any old night.

"Shhhh". He wiped the table down, doing a quick bump of coke from what was left. He stood up and moved towards the door, seemingly gliding, and peered out the eye hole.

"That's a lotta bacon." He said, in a low tone but still audible. There was another loud knock followed by "open or we are coming in".

Typical cops, always trying to extend their authority. Open or we're coming in? Just fucking try it. There is an entire room of coked up degenerates in here.....if we are going down, so are you. The difference is, you have families to feed. Wives.....children......how would they feel knowing your ego got you killed?

His thoughts were broken by Mac's hand on the doorknob. The creek of the door as it opened, and two uniformed men standing there with several more, in suits, behind them.

"Tampa PD" one of the uniforms said.

"Yeah, yeah, you said that" Mac said, "we are just getting ready to watch the Rays game here....can I help you with anything?"

So calm, so collected.

"There has been a shooting in Palm Harbor and many of the witnesses said it was you. There were several people who witnessed it."

"Am I under arrest?"

"Not yet."

"Then have a nice day."

He shut the door. Mac shut the fucking door.

He signaled to Chris to hide the coke, which was out and visible on the table if the door had been fully opened. There was more rapping at the door. These pigs didn't give up.

"Just ignore them, they have nothing on us."

Nothing on us? We possibly just murdered a bunch of frat kids, who did nothing wrong but rip off a rich kid on a weed deal, and they have nothing on us? He must be delusional.

Cocaine is a hell of a drug.

But so is adrenaline.

Adrenaline can propel a weak man to lift a car, it can propel an injured vet to crawl back to save his brother in the line of fire, it can take over a game. Adrenaline is one of the cauldren ingrediants of chaos.

That feeling he felt earlier, as evil as the actions were, it was that feeling he wanted, needed, craved to feel again. There was something deep within him that coursed through him like a drug.....he had fallen in love with adrenaline on that fateful afternoon......and had fallen in love with chaos.

He was feeling it again now, they were trapped like rats. They had nowhere to go and these cops and feds knew exactly what had happened. They were here for a reason.

He moved quickly, with ninja speed that he didn't know he had. He bagged up the remaining powder and headed to the other room, along with the guns. It was only a matter of time before Mac made a mistake. The cocaine wouldn't let him think straight. The other kids were useless, obviously not ready for the life-changing moment that was about to happen. One of them may even have been crying.

Pussy.

The door was opening again. He could hear it from the other room. What choice did Mac have? They were going to break it down if he didn't. The guns and the drugs were hidden in the stash box. Password protected. Even if they did find them, it wouldn't be today and it wouldn't be without a subpoena. They had bought at least some time.

Nicole was driving home through the wealthy neighborhood streets of Palm Harbor when she saw all of the lights. Heard all of the sirens. She saw the people in mass hysterics. Her first thought was about her parents. What the hell had happened?!

As her car pulled up to the barricade set by police, she immediately saw what she never wished on anyone in this world to see.

Her brother was laid out on the pavement, and EMT's were working on him. They had tubes everywhere, and were checking machines. She slammed the car into park, skidding to a stop. She jumped out of the car and sprinted towards where the medics were.

"CHAZ! OH MY GOD, CHAZ!"

They wouldn't let her get close, as a Tampa cop wrapped an arm around her slim waist. She tried fighting him off but he was too strong. Stomping onto his feet, he let go briefly, as she sprinted to where the EMT's were once again.

She put a hand over her mouth as she saw a line of people, all around Chaz's age, laid out on the street. Many were bleeding. Some where white already with blue rings around their eyes. The cops pulled her back again as she began screaming for her brother.

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 4

"Can you name an XWF superstar more polarizing than I am? A man who can dominate so thoroughly, then fall so hard? A man who was on top of the world, then trying to get as much of a second glance? Name one man who can be almost forgotten about, then be the first overall pick? Name a man who can rise from the ashes of obscurity to win Doc's prestigious Shove It event and still have the gaul to say that he isn't what he used to be? Because that man is me. I am not where I want to be yet because I have not taken the strap that Bourbon is currently degrading off his stretch marked waist yet. I expect nothing less than the top spot. Unike before, however, I am going to let this run its course. I am going to burn a hole in the middle of this company and let it crumble inside out. I am not in a rush anymore. I used to focus my entire life on getting this belt back as quick as possible. Now, I am just focused on getting it a some point.

Good plan, right?

Well it all begins now. I won Shove It and my team is going to win War Games. Many people, Graves included, think I am in this for myself. Why wouldn't I be? I can see why they feel that way. Now that James Raven has been made co-captain with me, a man who flaked on us all and disappeared at the height of his valiant return, many people think I have a bone to pick. That I have an ulterior motive. That Raven and I could never possibly co-exist.

FALSE.

You see I may be the most chaotic motherfucker on this roster, but I have pride as well. I have goals. I won Shove It, and I want to win this. Anything I have on my mind in the singles division, I can handle after December 23rd. This is another accomplishment to add to my resume, but I would be insane to think I can do it alone. I'm chaotic, but far from insane. You see, there is more to an event like this than just kicking ass and taking names. There is a unity to it. So many of these lame asses talk about how good they are and what they are going to do--the same thing they accuse me of--but have no idea what it takes to be a leader. They are pawns, every one of them. Men who call themselves motherfuckers but are barely bastards. Men who only now are learning the meaning of success, and even that is a mild amount.

Robert Main, the man who has always lived in the shadows and leeched off the success of others. Is he a leader? Danny Imperial, who can't even get out of his own way and is held down by the voices in his head that are even more messed up than he is. Is he a leader? Engy? Sure, he is on a hot streak but can anyone see him leading anything? Peter Gilmour? Maybe in a competitive eating contest he would lead his troops into battle. None of these man have the fortitude that it takes to be the top dog. They all want to be wolves, but are afraid to be deer. These men refuse to embrace their roles as inferiors in order to better understand themselves and become alpha's one day. Phantom Panzer was a team captain? Please. I've had jock itch more fierce than Panzer.

What are they going to tell me next, that Barney Green is added to a team?

James Raven and I are going to run roughshod over this entire event. We are going to eliminate everyone in our path. We each have a bone to pick with each other, understandably, but I think both of us are professional enough to link up when we need to to get the job done. Jenny is going to be a tough out, I know this already, but like she said she knows me---I know her as well. I know what makes her tick, hell I trained her. I know her in this ring like the back of my hand. I know about her back and her tempter issue. I also know she isn't going to be able to coexist with the members of her team....her ego won't allow that.

Do the other teams even matter?

Oh yes.......Apex.

How could I have forgotten the natural born leader we all know and love in Jim Caedus, my tag team partner. This is a man who is too caught up in himself to be a leader. He is a man who needs the others around him to be successful in order to succeed himself, but never gives them any credit. Notice how Jim never once congratuated me for winning Shove It and holding these belts with him? Never once did he mention me either. Paragraphs worth of the same over used hobo shit talk with homosexual undertones, and never as much as a peep about me.

Awwww, does Jimmy wuv me deep down?

No.

He fears me deep down.

They all do. Has there been one person in this entire match that has been shit on less than me? Everyone wanted to pile it on, to kick me when I was down, but now that I have some momentum suddenly it is hush hush about the chaotic one?

You all disgust me. My own girlfriend had the harshest trash talk about me. You should all be ashamed. So this fire still burns, and my vengeance still spins in my mind. I used to say I was going to beat that ass because you didn't respect me, now I am going to do it because you won't disrespect me. I want someone, anyone, to step to the plate and tear me to shreds. I bet you nobody can do it.

This fire still burns within me, and I am going to light that flame at War Games. Watch it burn.

Hear the screams.

Oh, the chaos.

42-20-2

]]> Continued

The boys in the room all looked at each other.....all of them were whiter than printer paper. The knock on the door got louder, and it sounded as if there were increasing numbers coming up the stairs. There may even be a dog or two.

"What do we do?" one kid whispered. Mac was cool, calm, collected. Like he had seen this 100 times before, like he had lived it. Like this was any old night.

"Shhhh". He wiped the table down, doing a quick bump of coke from what was left. He stood up and moved towards the door, seemingly gliding, and peered out the eye hole.

"That's a lotta bacon." He said, in a low tone but still audible. There was another loud knock followed by "open or we are coming in".

Typical cops, always trying to extend their authority. Open or we're coming in? Just fucking try it. There is an entire room of coked up degenerates in here.....if we are going down, so are you. The difference is, you have families to feed. Wives.....children......how would they feel knowing your ego got you killed?

His thoughts were broken by Mac's hand on the doorknob. The creek of the door as it opened, and two uniformed men standing there with several more, in suits, behind them.

"Tampa PD" one of the uniforms said.

"Yeah, yeah, you said that" Mac said, "we are just getting ready to watch the Rays game here....can I help you with anything?"

So calm, so collected.

"There has been a shooting in Palm Harbor and many of the witnesses said it was you. There were several people who witnessed it."

"Am I under arrest?"

"Not yet."

"Then have a nice day."

He shut the door. Mac shut the fucking door.

He signaled to Chris to hide the coke, which was out and visible on the table if the door had been fully opened. There was more rapping at the door. These pigs didn't give up.

"Just ignore them, they have nothing on us."

Nothing on us? We possibly just murdered a bunch of frat kids, who did nothing wrong but rip off a rich kid on a weed deal, and they have nothing on us? He must be delusional.

Cocaine is a hell of a drug.

But so is adrenaline.

Adrenaline can propel a weak man to lift a car, it can propel an injured vet to crawl back to save his brother in the line of fire, it can take over a game. Adrenaline is one of the cauldren ingrediants of chaos.

That feeling he felt earlier, as evil as the actions were, it was that feeling he wanted, needed, craved to feel again. There was something deep within him that coursed through him like a drug.....he had fallen in love with adrenaline on that fateful afternoon......and had fallen in love with chaos.

He was feeling it again now, they were trapped like rats. They had nowhere to go and these cops and feds knew exactly what had happened. They were here for a reason.

He moved quickly, with ninja speed that he didn't know he had. He bagged up the remaining powder and headed to the other room, along with the guns. It was only a matter of time before Mac made a mistake. The cocaine wouldn't let him think straight. The other kids were useless, obviously not ready for the life-changing moment that was about to happen. One of them may even have been crying.

Pussy.

The door was opening again. He could hear it from the other room. What choice did Mac have? They were going to break it down if he didn't. The guns and the drugs were hidden in the stash box. Password protected. Even if they did find them, it wouldn't be today and it wouldn't be without a subpoena. They had bought at least some time.

42-20-2

]]> <![CDATA[Who I am?]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30121 Thu, 21 Dec 2017 16:57:43 -0800 Grande Ricardo]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=30121 "Well, it looks like they had to change the teams at War Games, for some reason. Instead of Chasm the Unknown Soldiers somehow how have Scully, the former Universal Champion that couldn't even handle his dick properly when we were facing each other. He pissed and moaned about me using my dream match against Finn at that point, but now he wants to be interjected late to the party in another one of my matches. I guess he just can't get enough of me. Who can blame the guy? His big claim to fame is losing his universal championship in less time than it takes Robbie Bourbon to break a diet, or Peter Gilmour to hit on the every girl who walks by him. And yet, he thinks he's worthy of being mentioned in the same breath as me, or Erik Black? Fuck that guy. Watch his dumbass forget he's got a match this week and stumble into the arena in a rush 3 minutes before showtime, only to get knocked on his ass and sent back to England crying like his kid. Fuck out of here with that shit, and fuck you Scully.

Then they brought in James Raven to replace Unknown Soldier. Which, I guess is cool, because he lost his title to Robbie Bourbon, and is still obsessed with the idea of Robbie. So much so that instead of focusing on who's facing him at War Games, he's focusing on the Apex vs the Mother Fuckers. Yeah, I get that he's apparently trying to be their guest ref, because you're so in love with Robbie Bourbon that you can't do anything in life without thinking of that time Robbie blew his diabetic load right into the back of your throat, and denied you the chance to taste it. I get it, being denied is hard, but you've got to figure out how you can move on. You need to do this, to stop obsessing over them and focus up. Because if you don't? Well, when you don't, I'll be standing there to sock you right in the jaw, and then Erik will take over as I move onto someone else. Someone who's actually worth a goddamn, so clearly not you. You're washed up, you're passed your prime, you're a chump. A worthless over the hill crybaby who can't forgive his dad, and likes to cry about shit and stomp around like a child. Let's face it, the highlight of your career lately is losing to Robbie.

Losing to Robbie was the exact thing you needed to let you know it's time to move on. Which, clearly you haven't figured out how to do. I guess losing to me and my team will help you. Either that or you're going to have to start going to therapy, cause baby, you need it. Fuck you, and fuck your bullshit obsession. You need Jesus, mother fucker. More than Unknown Soldier, and that dude eats babies. Seriously, fuck off. I'm fucking tired of you.

And you McBride. Be original, for once in your life. Stop playing your bullshit games, and get a real life, stop ripping off of movies and shit. I'm tired of watching your stuff."

Something's been bugging me for the last few weeks, this feeling of emptiness. It's like I wasn't complete, or whole. I think it has to do with me not remembering who I am under all of this crap. Well, I've been working hard on this, and I know who I am. I'm sitting in a room, thinking about this, and it feels good to have an idea who I am. The room is dark, and poorly lit, but at least it feels like home. Or, as close to home as I've been able to make it. Pickles isn't returning my calls, but he will when I announce this. So, I decide now is the time to announce it, Steve Sayors is in here with me, he's been looking at me, with the lights low, trying to figure out what I'm about. The couch I'm on is incredibly uncomfortable, but it helps hide the fact that I'm nervous. He pauses, and takes a drink from the glass in his hand, before setting it down calmly.

"What do you want, Ricardo."

"That's just it, Steve. I'm not Ricardo. I called you here to tell you who I am. Now, turn on the light."

He does as he's told, and walks over to turn on the light. I blink a few times, and wait for him to take a seat. He slowly lowers himself, before taking his drink back in his hand.

"Wait to take another drink until I take off my mask."

He sets his drink down on the table beside him, allowing me to take my helmet off.

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[Image: MC-CHris-Feature-Photo-1.jpg]

His jaw drops to the floor.

"Frodo?"

"You're goddamn right it's me. Frodo mother fucking Smackins, the Big Dick Playa. Run and tell everyone, the biggest Dick in the game is back, and he's ready to fuck."]]> "Well, it looks like they had to change the teams at War Games, for some reason. Instead of Chasm the Unknown Soldiers somehow how have Scully, the former Universal Champion that couldn't even handle his dick properly when we were facing each other. He pissed and moaned about me using my dream match against Finn at that point, but now he wants to be interjected late to the party in another one of my matches. I guess he just can't get enough of me. Who can blame the guy? His big claim to fame is losing his universal championship in less time than it takes Robbie Bourbon to break a diet, or Peter Gilmour to hit on the every girl who walks by him. And yet, he thinks he's worthy of being mentioned in the same breath as me, or Erik Black? Fuck that guy. Watch his dumbass forget he's got a match this week and stumble into the arena in a rush 3 minutes before showtime, only to get knocked on his ass and sent back to England crying like his kid. Fuck out of here with that shit, and fuck you Scully.

Then they brought in James Raven to replace Unknown Soldier. Which, I guess is cool, because he lost his title to Robbie Bourbon, and is still obsessed with the idea of Robbie. So much so that instead of focusing on who's facing him at War Games, he's focusing on the Apex vs the Mother Fuckers. Yeah, I get that he's apparently trying to be their guest ref, because you're so in love with Robbie Bourbon that you can't do anything in life without thinking of that time Robbie blew his diabetic load right into the back of your throat, and denied you the chance to taste it. I get it, being denied is hard, but you've got to figure out how you can move on. You need to do this, to stop obsessing over them and focus up. Because if you don't? Well, when you don't, I'll be standing there to sock you right in the jaw, and then Erik will take over as I move onto someone else. Someone who's actually worth a goddamn, so clearly not you. You're washed up, you're passed your prime, you're a chump. A worthless over the hill crybaby who can't forgive his dad, and likes to cry about shit and stomp around like a child. Let's face it, the highlight of your career lately is losing to Robbie.

Losing to Robbie was the exact thing you needed to let you know it's time to move on. Which, clearly you haven't figured out how to do. I guess losing to me and my team will help you. Either that or you're going to have to start going to therapy, cause baby, you need it. Fuck you, and fuck your bullshit obsession. You need Jesus, mother fucker. More than Unknown Soldier, and that dude eats babies. Seriously, fuck off. I'm fucking tired of you.

And you McBride. Be original, for once in your life. Stop playing your bullshit games, and get a real life, stop ripping off of movies and shit. I'm tired of watching your stuff."