<![CDATA[X-treme Wrestling Federation - Second Chance RP Board]]> https://xwf1999.com/ Wed, 06 May 2026 19:59:05 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[Trash]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31470 Sat, 26 May 2018 23:59:45 -0700 Scully]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31470 "Scully is ready, are my opponents ready? Are the guys entering this Battle Royal ready? Even if they believe they are, they can't contain Scully!

Last Saturday, the Royal Wedding which took place in London, England was watched around the nation, in other countries too. People from other countries including here in Oz and the people of America travelled to England to watch Prince Harry marry Megan Markle. Me personally, it wasnt something that bothered me but it shows that the yanks of the past in this company who dissed the Royal family and said that no one cares about them, were wrong. They tried to dig at me, like I would even care but it back fired. Americans attended the wedding! That's what happened. Many Americans will say they don't want Scully to win the Battle Royal? But deep down they want me to win. I am after all, #Made4TV and i am going to be representing The Union Jack. I will show you all that no matter what, I will rule the ring. The fans who dislike me? Well you won't have a choice because I'm not giving you any options. Scully is entering that Battle Royal and I am winning it! Who's going to stop me?!

So a few more fannies have come out to play. They're dripping wet from having their clit flicked. They think I should worry about them? Be fazed? Hahaha. That be stupid! I am on a whole different level.

Griffin McAllister? Who da fuck is this guy?! Okay your name sounds familiar... Wait, you've returned? And? Thanks for stopping by, let me show you the way out! Don't think you're just gonna spend a promo, creaming over Peter Gilmour and expect to win? Pffft... Scully is your real issue is here, I am the guy you should be worried about, pal! Why did you leave last time? Couldn't hack it? Was you fed up of being beaten up? Well that's the Xtreme Wrestling Federation for ya! It gets messy, a lot of da guys can't take it and they leave. Some return to try again but others were just another name. Griffin, I have something to tell you... You're not going to win! Let me order you a fuckin taxi to save you the heartache. The taxi will take you and your Mop-A-Drop hairstyle to the airport, then board the plane like a good little Bitch and get the fuck outta here!

Dilly, Dilly, hello fat Gilly... No place like home? Okay Dorothy, I know we're in Oz and I am the Wizard, I guess. Wearing your ruby slippers? So sparkly. I guess you're used to be thrown out, cuz I'm afraid I will be chucking you outta MY RING.
Your stupidity doesn't surprise me at all. I mean why are you bothering entering a Battle Royal that you ain't even gonna win? You don't need to waste your time, you only have to ask and management will give you a title shot anyway. Jeez. Its not that difficult to ask Vinnie Lane for another title match, I mean how many have you had now? Remind me how you took the Uni from me, it never gets old that one. When I win this Battle Royal and I win the Uni, I declare right now.... In fact...
I promise I will pass the Gilly test! Digress that! So you can go on about sucking Maria's dick and all the other transgenders you love or you could actually talk about the relevance that is before you..... ME!

Benny Blowjobs, I'm going to have to shove your own dick up your ass! If you really think that you can enter this Battle Royal without taking it seriously, no let me rephrase that, without taking ME seriously then you're not going to last long at all. You can offer to suck cocks all you want and I mean some will oblige but the fact remains, Skull doesn't want his python sucked by you or any man! Only Natalie gets that honour, you are not worthy of a real dick! But I will give you a little dick... Get him Gilly!

Jackie Peppers, so nice to see you, again. Thanks for joining us on such a splendid occasion. Are you still trying to be the funny guy? The comedy factor? Well there's nothing funny about losing, Jackie. Will you find it hilarious when I smash your face from pillar to post? Or just post to post shall I say? Will you be smiling when I nail you with a Scullanator? How about when I grab you by your hair like the bitch you are, will that turn you on? Because when that moment comes, you can put the boner away, there's only one thing happening in that scenario and that's me throwing you outta MY RING. The good news is, you may be able to hang on in the second one....

The Xtreme Championship is up for grabs at Second Chance. After watching the promos and hating on Ghost Wank anyway, here's me hoping that the Bearded WarPig wins the title. Not that you Pig are my friend, not that I even like you but anything is better than Calypso retaining or GT winning.. Joy for one of you, regardless...
But IF any of you enter the Battle Royal, it will end in disappointment!

Chris Chaos, I hope to see you in the Second Chance Battle Royal, because it will be me who throws you over those top ropes. Not only are you dominated in day to day life by your wench, Jenny. You were also dominated by her in the ring. How does it feel as somewhat a man, to be totally owned by your owner in the middle if the ring? It was there for the world to see and I enjoyed every minute of it. What gets me though, is quite frankly she should be the TV Champion! Let's hope Mezian pulls his finger out!
You are the TV Champion scared to defend that title against me. I guess I won't need a shot at your title because I will be having a shot at the biggest prize this company has to offer. The title that I work for and the title which makes you the Top guy in the XWF.

That guy is The Engineer at this very moment but I am hoping my partner, Finn Kuhn can accomplish his goals and succeed in becoming the NEW XWF Universal Champion.

Welcome to the Sydney, Australia. Welcome to the Paragon Battle Royal and I welcome my XWF Uni title shot. Da End, Scully Has Spoken!"]]> "Scully is ready, are my opponents ready? Are the guys entering this Battle Royal ready? Even if they believe they are, they can't contain Scully!

Last Saturday, the Royal Wedding which took place in London, England was watched around the nation, in other countries too. People from other countries including here in Oz and the people of America travelled to England to watch Prince Harry marry Megan Markle. Me personally, it wasnt something that bothered me but it shows that the yanks of the past in this company who dissed the Royal family and said that no one cares about them, were wrong. They tried to dig at me, like I would even care but it back fired. Americans attended the wedding! That's what happened. Many Americans will say they don't want Scully to win the Battle Royal? But deep down they want me to win. I am after all, #Made4TV and i am going to be representing The Union Jack. I will show you all that no matter what, I will rule the ring. The fans who dislike me? Well you won't have a choice because I'm not giving you any options. Scully is entering that Battle Royal and I am winning it! Who's going to stop me?!

So a few more fannies have come out to play. They're dripping wet from having their clit flicked. They think I should worry about them? Be fazed? Hahaha. That be stupid! I am on a whole different level.

Griffin McAllister? Who da fuck is this guy?! Okay your name sounds familiar... Wait, you've returned? And? Thanks for stopping by, let me show you the way out! Don't think you're just gonna spend a promo, creaming over Peter Gilmour and expect to win? Pffft... Scully is your real issue is here, I am the guy you should be worried about, pal! Why did you leave last time? Couldn't hack it? Was you fed up of being beaten up? Well that's the Xtreme Wrestling Federation for ya! It gets messy, a lot of da guys can't take it and they leave. Some return to try again but others were just another name. Griffin, I have something to tell you... You're not going to win! Let me order you a fuckin taxi to save you the heartache. The taxi will take you and your Mop-A-Drop hairstyle to the airport, then board the plane like a good little Bitch and get the fuck outta here!

Dilly, Dilly, hello fat Gilly... No place like home? Okay Dorothy, I know we're in Oz and I am the Wizard, I guess. Wearing your ruby slippers? So sparkly. I guess you're used to be thrown out, cuz I'm afraid I will be chucking you outta MY RING.
Your stupidity doesn't surprise me at all. I mean why are you bothering entering a Battle Royal that you ain't even gonna win? You don't need to waste your time, you only have to ask and management will give you a title shot anyway. Jeez. Its not that difficult to ask Vinnie Lane for another title match, I mean how many have you had now? Remind me how you took the Uni from me, it never gets old that one. When I win this Battle Royal and I win the Uni, I declare right now.... In fact...
I promise I will pass the Gilly test! Digress that! So you can go on about sucking Maria's dick and all the other transgenders you love or you could actually talk about the relevance that is before you..... ME!

Benny Blowjobs, I'm going to have to shove your own dick up your ass! If you really think that you can enter this Battle Royal without taking it seriously, no let me rephrase that, without taking ME seriously then you're not going to last long at all. You can offer to suck cocks all you want and I mean some will oblige but the fact remains, Skull doesn't want his python sucked by you or any man! Only Natalie gets that honour, you are not worthy of a real dick! But I will give you a little dick... Get him Gilly!

Jackie Peppers, so nice to see you, again. Thanks for joining us on such a splendid occasion. Are you still trying to be the funny guy? The comedy factor? Well there's nothing funny about losing, Jackie. Will you find it hilarious when I smash your face from pillar to post? Or just post to post shall I say? Will you be smiling when I nail you with a Scullanator? How about when I grab you by your hair like the bitch you are, will that turn you on? Because when that moment comes, you can put the boner away, there's only one thing happening in that scenario and that's me throwing you outta MY RING. The good news is, you may be able to hang on in the second one....

The Xtreme Championship is up for grabs at Second Chance. After watching the promos and hating on Ghost Wank anyway, here's me hoping that the Bearded WarPig wins the title. Not that you Pig are my friend, not that I even like you but anything is better than Calypso retaining or GT winning.. Joy for one of you, regardless...
But IF any of you enter the Battle Royal, it will end in disappointment!

Chris Chaos, I hope to see you in the Second Chance Battle Royal, because it will be me who throws you over those top ropes. Not only are you dominated in day to day life by your wench, Jenny. You were also dominated by her in the ring. How does it feel as somewhat a man, to be totally owned by your owner in the middle if the ring? It was there for the world to see and I enjoyed every minute of it. What gets me though, is quite frankly she should be the TV Champion! Let's hope Mezian pulls his finger out!
You are the TV Champion scared to defend that title against me. I guess I won't need a shot at your title because I will be having a shot at the biggest prize this company has to offer. The title that I work for and the title which makes you the Top guy in the XWF.

That guy is The Engineer at this very moment but I am hoping my partner, Finn Kuhn can accomplish his goals and succeed in becoming the NEW XWF Universal Champion.

Welcome to the Sydney, Australia. Welcome to the Paragon Battle Royal and I welcome my XWF Uni title shot. Da End, Scully Has Spoken!"]]> <![CDATA[Ties that bind - Part 3: You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you? (rp4)]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31484 Sat, 26 May 2018 23:50:48 -0700 Azrael Erebus]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31484

Azrael Erebus sits completely still. Almost like he's been put on pause or as if time was frozen in that exact moment. A slice of pizza hangs in his hand. Close enough for him to bite and yet, he does not take that bite. However, time had not been frozen, nor was he on pause. He was in shock. Terrible shock. Mortification mixed with a little disgust. He's not hungry anymore. He's processing. Everything inside him is telling him, to simply throw that slice of double pepperoni, across the room. Just fucking chuck it. Whip it across the restaurant, like a live grenade. That's what he wants to do. Badly. Yet this isn't what he actually does. Instead he places the slice onto his plate and sighs. Deeply.


Across the table from him, his daughter Lila Laroque sits in silent expectation. Excited and full of smiles. This does not mirror the spaceman's feelings one bit. Not one fucking bit. He can't let these emotions bleed through to his words though. After all this was Lila. The most brightest star in his life. His daughter. His angel. Azrael couldn't hurt her feelings by telling her that she was totally and completely out of her mind. Verging on the brink of being unhinged. That what she told him pisses him off to his very core. That out of her choices in life, by far this was the stupidest and that deep down, he was wondering if he should have her tested for either being insane or to check if she was really related to him. Harsh. He knows it. Too brutal for comprehension and he doesn't mean these thoughts. Not Really. Of course he didn't really mean them. He loved his daughter and would never say such things to her.


These are simply the first thoughts that hit his mind after she got done telling him what she just did. That she had been to Chicago. On business, as she was a historian and the Field Museum needed her help with a project. That while she was in Chicago, she was mugged but that she was alright. No harm, no foul. Someone came to her aid. He came to her aid. That fucking shady, dirtball mechanic - Griffin MacAlister, rescued her belongings. They had coffee afterwards and got to talking. Really hit it off. He got her number and vice versa. She really likes him and wants to see him again. Wants to know if she can come to Second Chance as Azrael's guest, just for that purpose. Azrael wants to say no. To forbid her from this act and all acts involving contact with Griffin, but he knows better. To forbid is to make the object in question more desirable. No. He would have to allow her permission to travel with him. To attend Second Chance and surprise Griffin. No matter how much it revolted him. The man from the stars, had to let his daughter do this. He just couldn't form the words that would give him the ability to relay this message to her.


It was like he forgot how to speak. Could anger make you do that? Forget how to talk? Or was he stricken mute. Could rage cause a being to become mute? It was all so bizarre. Just recently, he was joking to Nathaniel how there was no possible connection to their returning cause then it would have to also coincide with Griffin's return and now... now, his daughter was interested in the mechanic. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe everything was connected. Perhaps Dirk Gently had it spot on. Everything's connected. If this was all connected... if the three of them were connected. Who else would be involved and why? What could possibly happen next and what was this all leading towards? The big picture. Was there one and was Azrael merely a pawn within it, like some character in a story? It was during this spiraling of internal questioning, Azrael realized that he had been quiet for entirely too long. Lila was staring at him with those big brown eyes. She needed an answer.


"Yes. It's absolutely fine. You can attend Second Chance and surprise... Gri... ffin... Mac... Alis... ter."


That was incredibly difficult for him to allow safe passage to that thought - from his mind, to his throat and out into the open air. It felt like he was practically choking out that asshole's name through clenched teeth. Lila, on the other hand, squealed with glee. She's thrilled. Giddy. Azrael felt altogether sick. Nauseous and really... really, annoyed at the same time. Seriously, what the fuck was next????]]>

Azrael Erebus sits completely still. Almost like he's been put on pause or as if time was frozen in that exact moment. A slice of pizza hangs in his hand. Close enough for him to bite and yet, he does not take that bite. However, time had not been frozen, nor was he on pause. He was in shock. Terrible shock. Mortification mixed with a little disgust. He's not hungry anymore. He's processing. Everything inside him is telling him, to simply throw that slice of double pepperoni, across the room. Just fucking chuck it. Whip it across the restaurant, like a live grenade. That's what he wants to do. Badly. Yet this isn't what he actually does. Instead he places the slice onto his plate and sighs. Deeply.


Across the table from him, his daughter Lila Laroque sits in silent expectation. Excited and full of smiles. This does not mirror the spaceman's feelings one bit. Not one fucking bit. He can't let these emotions bleed through to his words though. After all this was Lila. The most brightest star in his life. His daughter. His angel. Azrael couldn't hurt her feelings by telling her that she was totally and completely out of her mind. Verging on the brink of being unhinged. That what she told him pisses him off to his very core. That out of her choices in life, by far this was the stupidest and that deep down, he was wondering if he should have her tested for either being insane or to check if she was really related to him. Harsh. He knows it. Too brutal for comprehension and he doesn't mean these thoughts. Not Really. Of course he didn't really mean them. He loved his daughter and would never say such things to her.


These are simply the first thoughts that hit his mind after she got done telling him what she just did. That she had been to Chicago. On business, as she was a historian and the Field Museum needed her help with a project. That while she was in Chicago, she was mugged but that she was alright. No harm, no foul. Someone came to her aid. He came to her aid. That fucking shady, dirtball mechanic - Griffin MacAlister, rescued her belongings. They had coffee afterwards and got to talking. Really hit it off. He got her number and vice versa. She really likes him and wants to see him again. Wants to know if she can come to Second Chance as Azrael's guest, just for that purpose. Azrael wants to say no. To forbid her from this act and all acts involving contact with Griffin, but he knows better. To forbid is to make the object in question more desirable. No. He would have to allow her permission to travel with him. To attend Second Chance and surprise Griffin. No matter how much it revolted him. The man from the stars, had to let his daughter do this. He just couldn't form the words that would give him the ability to relay this message to her.


It was like he forgot how to speak. Could anger make you do that? Forget how to talk? Or was he stricken mute. Could rage cause a being to become mute? It was all so bizarre. Just recently, he was joking to Nathaniel how there was no possible connection to their returning cause then it would have to also coincide with Griffin's return and now... now, his daughter was interested in the mechanic. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe everything was connected. Perhaps Dirk Gently had it spot on. Everything's connected. If this was all connected... if the three of them were connected. Who else would be involved and why? What could possibly happen next and what was this all leading towards? The big picture. Was there one and was Azrael merely a pawn within it, like some character in a story? It was during this spiraling of internal questioning, Azrael realized that he had been quiet for entirely too long. Lila was staring at him with those big brown eyes. She needed an answer.


"Yes. It's absolutely fine. You can attend Second Chance and surprise... Gri... ffin... Mac... Alis... ter."


That was incredibly difficult for him to allow safe passage to that thought - from his mind, to his throat and out into the open air. It felt like he was practically choking out that asshole's name through clenched teeth. Lila, on the other hand, squealed with glee. She's thrilled. Giddy. Azrael felt altogether sick. Nauseous and really... really, annoyed at the same time. Seriously, what the fuck was next????]]> <![CDATA[Unkindness of Ravens pt#5]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31483 Sat, 26 May 2018 23:45:50 -0700 Mezian]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31483 After the battle with Draziol Mezian hopped back to The Sanctum to place his fallen brother's crystal into the chests he kept in his room.
Once inside he was met by Cortessa. She seemed concerned and worried about something.

What is wrong Tessa? Is there something going on I don't know about? Where are Gaea and Azoth?

Gaea said that she and Azoth had to go follow a lead to something called the consortium? They said that you would understand. Where is The Consortium?

Mezian slumped his shoulders and walked to his room. He began to mumble under his breathe about something as he placed the crystal in the chest. He started to pack another bag for a trip. This time he didn't take clothes he took a handgun and an assault rifle.
Where is The Consortium, Mezian? Why are you packing up weapons used on people?

The Consortium isn't a place. It is a group of humans that are basically followers of Micheal. They hate Seraphim, they think that the council are the rightful rulers of Humanity and they are very well armed and well trained.The only thing they hate more than a Seraphim is a Primordial. They basically walked into a trap. Where did they say they had to go?

They said that they needed to go to Sydney. They said that they had an informant int he city that saw activity that made them believe that The Consortium was up to something.Gaea even said that The Consortium may even have Hope there. It would be the last place we would look. Why would that be the last place we would look?

Mezian while walking away answers her question

Because before just now we thought they were all dead. We thought we had gotten rid of the whole lot of them. They are a threat, a rather big one. Keep the girls safe, I'll send some of the Ravens to come keep watch here.

Why would you think that they were all dead?

Because I killed every last fucking one of them. They can not gain any more power than they have. I'm going to stop in London to set up your guard detail with Abigail. Then I am headed to Sydney. Sit tight like I said, and stay inside the sanctum. The Consortium can't get you here and neither can any of the Angels.

Mezian exited The Sanctum and hopped back to the office of Abigail.

Ello, Pat, Your back already? What did you need to do?

Get some gear and make sure The Sanctum was safe. I have a question, has there been any chatter about a group called The Consortium? Like anywhere? Maybe in Sydney?

Abigail spoke cautiously and she answered the questions Mezian asked of her.

Well..Yeah. The Consortium is a rather powerful private interest group in the geopolitical scene in Sydney. One of the top members are running for a spot in the Parlament. He has a really big lead in the polls leading up to the election to replace someone.

How did the person die? The one that is being replace,how did he die.Did look like a Heart Attack?

Abigail again seems put off and confused by the sudden interest in foreign politics.

Yeah, why? They found him in a hotel room with a dead hooker. It was an absolute shame. The girl had an overdose or something. The poor girls heart just exploded. It was a real shame. What's with the sudden interest in Austrailian politics?

The Consortium isn't a special interest group. They are humans sworn to Micheal and the council. Those people didn't die of a heart attack and an overdose. They were killed. Most likely by Raphael and Draziol before they spoke with you about me. They were probably trying to kill me so I wouldn't stop them. Who is the guy running for the Parlament position?

Some bloak named Matthew Greene.

you have got to be fucking with me. Matthew Greene?Kinda tall,well built, black hair and really bright green eyes?
Yeah, That is a spot on description. How do you know who he is?

He used to be a friend of mine. he tried to break up my wife and I. I knew that he was stupid and he made bad decisions but this one is an all-time new for him. I guess I have to go put a bullet in his head.

Abigail nearly choked on her sip of coffee.

I'm sorry? What did you just say? You are going to kill a future member of Parlament because he tried to shag your wife? Well, that is just dumb, Pat, even for you.

No, I am going to kill him because if he wins The council will have power over an entire government. Maybe not at first but they will soon after he takes office. If I let him live it could mean the subjugation of people. A tyrannical rule over a country and its people, which in turn will lead to that happening to the rest of humanity. So like I said I have to put a bullet in his head. Which brings up something I need from you.

I am not helping you kill Matthew Greene. I won't have any part of it. I have no reason to get involved with this op and I am staying out of it.

That is fine, I wasn't going to ask you to do that. I need you borrow you and a few of your men for a protection detail. I need you to watch over the Sanctum in New York for a bit. Just until I get this sorted out with the Consortium and get Azoth and Gaea back there.
I will pay you whatever you want. Just say it and it is your accounts. I really need your help and Tessa and the girls need it too.

So, you're telling me that if I said it was 750,000 dollars for me and my men to come to New York you would pay it?[/color]

Mezian pulled out his phone pressed and few buttons and then Abigail received an email.


Dear Miss Albright,
An amount of 750,000 dollars has been deposited into your account.


Anything else you need we really don't have the time to be doing this right now.

[violet] Okay, Okay I'm sorry. I honestly didn't think that you would pay me that much. I needed to know how serious you were about this. How many men do you need for this op?

I am always serious about this kind of shit. I am going to need at least five of your best men. They will need to be well armed and very well trained. I need them to be willing to kill anyone or thing that isn't supposed to be near or in the Sanctum. This is not a situation for some weekend warrior who collects a check once a month. I need this to be airtight and I will not accept anything less from you.

Alright, Let me go get the guys and out gear. Will I be needing the blood silver rounds too?

Mezian nodded his head yes.

Alright love I will be back in a jiffy.

With Abigail out of the room Mezian could really reflect on what he had learned. Matt was a member of the Consortium. Not only that but he was working directly for or with Raphael. This was a development that was not planned for. If Gaea or Azoth are compromised or worse killed all the hard work would be for not and Mezian would have had failed. Abigail and five of the toughest looking men Mezian had ever seen walked in. They all were tall, muscular, tattooed and seemed like they wanted a reason to kill something. It was a great showing but Mezian needed to test their resolve.

You there, In the back. Tall dark and brooding. Come here for a second.

One of the larger men came forward to where Mezian was and stood next to him.

So that you all understand what you are getting yourselves into I'm gonna use him as an example.

The taller man had look of fear and disbelief. He stood nervously next to Mezian who was smaller in stature and mass. Mezian looked at the taller man and grabbed the bottom of his rib cage through the skin. Mezian then lifted the man off of his feet and he screamed in agony and tried not to move too much.

This is what a Seraphim can do to you. We do not need to exert any real force. I can flick my wrist and break nine of his ribs. There are beings who are this strong and stronger. You can not out power them, you can not outrun them and you can not outmaneuver them. They are stronger faster and more agile that you can ever be.I want you to protect something for me.
A woman and two children. The woman is named Cortessa, she is also a Seraphim. She can kill you with anything around the room. They came up with the word" Assassin" do give hat she does a name. The two girls are named Serenity and Mercy. Do not talk to them, they are the sisters of fate. They can see everything that is going to happen. They will fuck up psychologically, mostly because they can see your entire life. Even the exact moment you die. Now I am going to put him down, anyone who thinks they cant handle it...Is probably right and should head out now.

The man being held up limps over to the rest of the group. There is grumbling coming from the men. All of the men stop talking to each other and look to Mezian.

Are we all sorted? You guys ready to do some good and possibly save humanity?

In unison, the men give a vocal acknowledgment to Mezian. They all grab all of their gear and head out to the SUV in the front of the house. Abigail stays behind and walks over to Mezian.

So how much of what you just said is true?

The part where I told them that there were beings out there that could kill them easily or the part where I explained that they were effectively protecting an assassin and the beings who determine fate?

Both.

All of it. If they are lucky two of them will make it back here. That is me being generous. I wasn't kidding when I said it was gonna be hard. Most of that money I gave you will be for funeral costs. This a war and there will be casualties. Are you ready and willing to see this through?

Of Course, Pat, why does the Raven fly at night?

To see the light in humanity.

TO BE CONTINUED...


There comes a time in everyone's life when they realize they are not needed anymore. The things that they thought were important are not anymore. The things they brought to the world is gone. They realize they are just a placeholder for the next person in line. That is what you are Chris, a placeholder. You are just holding on to that title so I can take it from you. They never gave me a chance to take it off of Drew and then at Turning Point you got the strap. So now I get to take you on the second time.

In a situation like this, I like to think that my career here has been successful. I may not have had a title, I may have lost a bunch of matches. The one thing that makes me keep coming back for more is knowing that all it takes is that one moment. The one moment where you drop your guard.The moment where you think you are safe and everything is okay. Then that uncertainty sets in and you cant shake the feeling that it's all gonna go wrong somehow. Right there....Right there in that moment time, that is where I exist the most. That is where I live. I feed on your doubt and fear. You may have the others fooled with the bravado and confidence. I see the truth though. You longing for acceptance.The need to be recognized as one of the best.

That is just it, you don't need to be recognized as one of the best. Because you actually have to do something to be on that list. I don't understand it. Are you really lacking in all other aspects of your life and personality that this is all you have? If that is true then I am really and truly sorry. To have all of that drive and determination and to waste it here. That list you love so much is just some words on a paper. That paper will be changed time and time again. You never know man, shit happens. The one thing you should know and the one thing I know for certain is that come tomorrow. I'm gonna have my way with you. I'm gonna fuck you up so bad and leave you covered in blood sweat and tears. It will look like Kevin Spacey and Harvey Wienstine had a gangbang in our ring. So shine it up and wear it while you can. That belt is mine, you are just keeping it warm for me. You are part of a dying breed, Chris. No one is left, just give up and go home.

YOUR END IS NIGH...]]> After the battle with Draziol Mezian hopped back to The Sanctum to place his fallen brother's crystal into the chests he kept in his room.
Once inside he was met by Cortessa. She seemed concerned and worried about something.

What is wrong Tessa? Is there something going on I don't know about? Where are Gaea and Azoth?

Gaea said that she and Azoth had to go follow a lead to something called the consortium? They said that you would understand. Where is The Consortium?

Mezian slumped his shoulders and walked to his room. He began to mumble under his breathe about something as he placed the crystal in the chest. He started to pack another bag for a trip. This time he didn't take clothes he took a handgun and an assault rifle.
Where is The Consortium, Mezian? Why are you packing up weapons used on people?

The Consortium isn't a place. It is a group of humans that are basically followers of Micheal. They hate Seraphim, they think that the council are the rightful rulers of Humanity and they are very well armed and well trained.The only thing they hate more than a Seraphim is a Primordial. They basically walked into a trap. Where did they say they had to go?

They said that they needed to go to Sydney. They said that they had an informant int he city that saw activity that made them believe that The Consortium was up to something.Gaea even said that The Consortium may even have Hope there. It would be the last place we would look. Why would that be the last place we would look?

Mezian while walking away answers her question

Because before just now we thought they were all dead. We thought we had gotten rid of the whole lot of them. They are a threat, a rather big one. Keep the girls safe, I'll send some of the Ravens to come keep watch here.

Why would you think that they were all dead?

Because I killed every last fucking one of them. They can not gain any more power than they have. I'm going to stop in London to set up your guard detail with Abigail. Then I am headed to Sydney. Sit tight like I said, and stay inside the sanctum. The Consortium can't get you here and neither can any of the Angels.

Mezian exited The Sanctum and hopped back to the office of Abigail.

Ello, Pat, Your back already? What did you need to do?

Get some gear and make sure The Sanctum was safe. I have a question, has there been any chatter about a group called The Consortium? Like anywhere? Maybe in Sydney?

Abigail spoke cautiously and she answered the questions Mezian asked of her.

Well..Yeah. The Consortium is a rather powerful private interest group in the geopolitical scene in Sydney. One of the top members are running for a spot in the Parlament. He has a really big lead in the polls leading up to the election to replace someone.

How did the person die? The one that is being replace,how did he die.Did look like a Heart Attack?

Abigail again seems put off and confused by the sudden interest in foreign politics.

Yeah, why? They found him in a hotel room with a dead hooker. It was an absolute shame. The girl had an overdose or something. The poor girls heart just exploded. It was a real shame. What's with the sudden interest in Austrailian politics?

The Consortium isn't a special interest group. They are humans sworn to Micheal and the council. Those people didn't die of a heart attack and an overdose. They were killed. Most likely by Raphael and Draziol before they spoke with you about me. They were probably trying to kill me so I wouldn't stop them. Who is the guy running for the Parlament position?

Some bloak named Matthew Greene.

you have got to be fucking with me. Matthew Greene?Kinda tall,well built, black hair and really bright green eyes?
Yeah, That is a spot on description. How do you know who he is?

He used to be a friend of mine. he tried to break up my wife and I. I knew that he was stupid and he made bad decisions but this one is an all-time new for him. I guess I have to go put a bullet in his head.

Abigail nearly choked on her sip of coffee.

I'm sorry? What did you just say? You are going to kill a future member of Parlament because he tried to shag your wife? Well, that is just dumb, Pat, even for you.

No, I am going to kill him because if he wins The council will have power over an entire government. Maybe not at first but they will soon after he takes office. If I let him live it could mean the subjugation of people. A tyrannical rule over a country and its people, which in turn will lead to that happening to the rest of humanity. So like I said I have to put a bullet in his head. Which brings up something I need from you.

I am not helping you kill Matthew Greene. I won't have any part of it. I have no reason to get involved with this op and I am staying out of it.

That is fine, I wasn't going to ask you to do that. I need you borrow you and a few of your men for a protection detail. I need you to watch over the Sanctum in New York for a bit. Just until I get this sorted out with the Consortium and get Azoth and Gaea back there.
I will pay you whatever you want. Just say it and it is your accounts. I really need your help and Tessa and the girls need it too.

So, you're telling me that if I said it was 750,000 dollars for me and my men to come to New York you would pay it?[/color]

Mezian pulled out his phone pressed and few buttons and then Abigail received an email.


Dear Miss Albright,
An amount of 750,000 dollars has been deposited into your account.


Anything else you need we really don't have the time to be doing this right now.

[violet] Okay, Okay I'm sorry. I honestly didn't think that you would pay me that much. I needed to know how serious you were about this. How many men do you need for this op?

I am always serious about this kind of shit. I am going to need at least five of your best men. They will need to be well armed and very well trained. I need them to be willing to kill anyone or thing that isn't supposed to be near or in the Sanctum. This is not a situation for some weekend warrior who collects a check once a month. I need this to be airtight and I will not accept anything less from you.

Alright, Let me go get the guys and out gear. Will I be needing the blood silver rounds too?

Mezian nodded his head yes.

Alright love I will be back in a jiffy.

With Abigail out of the room Mezian could really reflect on what he had learned. Matt was a member of the Consortium. Not only that but he was working directly for or with Raphael. This was a development that was not planned for. If Gaea or Azoth are compromised or worse killed all the hard work would be for not and Mezian would have had failed. Abigail and five of the toughest looking men Mezian had ever seen walked in. They all were tall, muscular, tattooed and seemed like they wanted a reason to kill something. It was a great showing but Mezian needed to test their resolve.

You there, In the back. Tall dark and brooding. Come here for a second.

One of the larger men came forward to where Mezian was and stood next to him.

So that you all understand what you are getting yourselves into I'm gonna use him as an example.

The taller man had look of fear and disbelief. He stood nervously next to Mezian who was smaller in stature and mass. Mezian looked at the taller man and grabbed the bottom of his rib cage through the skin. Mezian then lifted the man off of his feet and he screamed in agony and tried not to move too much.

This is what a Seraphim can do to you. We do not need to exert any real force. I can flick my wrist and break nine of his ribs. There are beings who are this strong and stronger. You can not out power them, you can not outrun them and you can not outmaneuver them. They are stronger faster and more agile that you can ever be.I want you to protect something for me.
A woman and two children. The woman is named Cortessa, she is also a Seraphim. She can kill you with anything around the room. They came up with the word" Assassin" do give hat she does a name. The two girls are named Serenity and Mercy. Do not talk to them, they are the sisters of fate. They can see everything that is going to happen. They will fuck up psychologically, mostly because they can see your entire life. Even the exact moment you die. Now I am going to put him down, anyone who thinks they cant handle it...Is probably right and should head out now.

The man being held up limps over to the rest of the group. There is grumbling coming from the men. All of the men stop talking to each other and look to Mezian.

Are we all sorted? You guys ready to do some good and possibly save humanity?

In unison, the men give a vocal acknowledgment to Mezian. They all grab all of their gear and head out to the SUV in the front of the house. Abigail stays behind and walks over to Mezian.

So how much of what you just said is true?

The part where I told them that there were beings out there that could kill them easily or the part where I explained that they were effectively protecting an assassin and the beings who determine fate?

Both.

All of it. If they are lucky two of them will make it back here. That is me being generous. I wasn't kidding when I said it was gonna be hard. Most of that money I gave you will be for funeral costs. This a war and there will be casualties. Are you ready and willing to see this through?

Of Course, Pat, why does the Raven fly at night?

To see the light in humanity.

TO BE CONTINUED...


There comes a time in everyone's life when they realize they are not needed anymore. The things that they thought were important are not anymore. The things they brought to the world is gone. They realize they are just a placeholder for the next person in line. That is what you are Chris, a placeholder. You are just holding on to that title so I can take it from you. They never gave me a chance to take it off of Drew and then at Turning Point you got the strap. So now I get to take you on the second time.

In a situation like this, I like to think that my career here has been successful. I may not have had a title, I may have lost a bunch of matches. The one thing that makes me keep coming back for more is knowing that all it takes is that one moment. The one moment where you drop your guard.The moment where you think you are safe and everything is okay. Then that uncertainty sets in and you cant shake the feeling that it's all gonna go wrong somehow. Right there....Right there in that moment time, that is where I exist the most. That is where I live. I feed on your doubt and fear. You may have the others fooled with the bravado and confidence. I see the truth though. You longing for acceptance.The need to be recognized as one of the best.

That is just it, you don't need to be recognized as one of the best. Because you actually have to do something to be on that list. I don't understand it. Are you really lacking in all other aspects of your life and personality that this is all you have? If that is true then I am really and truly sorry. To have all of that drive and determination and to waste it here. That list you love so much is just some words on a paper. That paper will be changed time and time again. You never know man, shit happens. The one thing you should know and the one thing I know for certain is that come tomorrow. I'm gonna have my way with you. I'm gonna fuck you up so bad and leave you covered in blood sweat and tears. It will look like Kevin Spacey and Harvey Wienstine had a gangbang in our ring. So shine it up and wear it while you can. That belt is mine, you are just keeping it warm for me. You are part of a dying breed, Chris. No one is left, just give up and go home.

YOUR END IS NIGH...]]> <![CDATA[Love]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31482 Sat, 26 May 2018 23:42:16 -0700 Chris Chaos]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31482 A warm, loving embrace.

What is it?

Is it true?

Are human beings even truly capable of love? When you want love as much as anything in the world, it never comes, but when you aren't ready it smacks you in the face. Things, and people, you'd never expect to love or to love you back end up being your dearest things. Locket material. Things that you throw away. But those that you love, you often let them go.

Why is that?

Afraid that love is the route of all evil? Fuck money. Money doesn't buy happiness, it buys friends. But love, love can't be bought, it happens spontaneously. It happens whether you want it to or not. It happens with reckless abandon. It comes at you like a predator. You have no chance.

When you don't think you are capable of love anymore, it smacks you in the face. BUT, can you love a possession more than a person? More than yourself? Absolutely. You see, posessions define you as a person. The person with the most is often the person who is viewed as the best. The people with the least either steal their way into having the most, or spend their entire life pitying others into buying it for them.

Or they die with nothing.

Life doesn't come with many options, but the ones it does give you are magnificent. Have it all, or die alone. If God exists, why is there a hell?

A shiny piece of metal, you never thought it would be the love of your life. You never thought it could make you love yourself. You never thought you'd be looking at it everyday.
Now you hold it in the highest regard. Your blood, sweat, tears went into it. Now, you get to show it off.

She hates you with every fiber of her being but she will still spoon with you at night because she needs you like you need it. You are her trophy, her prize, but to you she is just another object on the wall. There was a rating system, and you have to decide what you love the most.

But do you love it?

Can you?

Is love a real thing?

Sometimes.........you have to know when to love and when to hate....even if you hate what you love and love what you hate.......

...........because love, and hate, are the reasons you are.

It looked like a tornado had come through. There was stuff everywhere. Clothes, glass, assorted family room ornimates, you name it. It was all flipped upside down like the place had been ransacked.

All you could hear is the weazing breaths of your lover, as if she was 10 years into emphezema, and her ragad sobs as she tore through yet another part of the house. She knew what you were doing, knew who you were, but she loved you anyway. It was her love that made her crazy, often irrational and usually deulsional. Her idea that you could love her more than something you posess isn't too far out of the realm of logic, right?

Wrong.

You possess her. You own her. You own her soul, her being, her very fucking nature. She is nothing without you, but you'd be fine without her. She hates it, but all you need is your shiny piece of metal. All you need is the ability to go out there every day and do what you love. All you need is the ability to love yourself because you are incapable of loving anything else.

Now, you have scratches on your face, bruises on you arms, and blood on your lip. You have your battle scars, in more ways than one, all because of love.

Her love for you, your love for what you have, and the love you both share for.................

You.

If love can cause so much hate, why is love so important?


Because without love, you'd never know you had the ability to hate.

[Image: 2Y6q4ZQ.png]

"You said it yourself, Mez. Why do you even need me? You admitted you'd be fighting nobodies your entire life, even long after I am gone. I will have put my work in and retired as a vaunted legend while you are sitting in a high school gym somewhere stringing together ripped leather boots for a paycheck that Sunoco would laugh at. You admitted that yourself, so apparently you are learning. My work here is done, is it not? You see Mez, I am the kind of guy who knows my self worth. I am the kind of guy who can back up all the shit I talk. Do you think I would be this cocky if I was wallowing down in your territory of the card?
No. I'd be like you, talking about motivation and inspiration and what not. But I have earned the right to be confident. I have earned the right to come into this match as the favorite and tell people I am at the same time. What have you earned? I am failing to see that part. I am failing to see where you get off thinking that we are in any way shape or form equal.

We aren't.

But I am proud that you have stopped that bottom lip from quivering. I am glad you got balls enough to flat out say you were going to beat me and take this title. I am glad you came out and stopped being a pussy for once, hiding behind excuses as to why you aren't as good in the ring as you are in your wet dreams. You contridicted yourself more than a politician with autism. First, you'll be fighting long after me against undercard talent for god knows how long, then you're going to beat me and take this title and become for the first time in your pathetic life more than just a shadow following the big names around. Which one is it? A forever-nobody or a TV Champ with a win over the best in the world on your resume? You really need to get your stories straight bub. Don't worry about what CM Punk said and what I said, worry about not sounding like a total douche when you cut a promo. Try to worry about how you sound because if you are going to be a champion---its hard to say that with a straight face---you are going to need to know how to sound professional. That used to be one of the biggest knocks on me. I'd get so excited, like a puppy just learning to run for the first time, and would sometimes not think before I said things. Nuh-uh, no sir, no longer. I am no longer the fluke champion who got lucky in the cage but a double champion who has a dominating win/loss record and has beaten some of the best this business has to offer. You see, there is respect involved in this as well. There is a certain measure of respect that we all earn. I feel I have earned some respect, no? I feel like people look up to me now. Do you feel that way about yourself, Mez? I don't think you should be in the position to point fingers at others unles you can point one at yourself.

Do you love yourself? I love myself. I love everything about me, even my flaws. That is why I can accept my flaws. I can accept them with a smile because they make me who I am. They make me whole. If I had never lost the Universal Title, I would be a head in the clouds plastic champion with my head up my ass and would think I was untouchable. Someone like you could swoop in and beat me and send the earth out of orbit. But now that I have been around the block, and I know how it is not only to be successful but also how it feels to fail, I am not going to let someone like you sneak up on me. I don't sleep on people, Mez. You are going to bring the fight of your life, I know it. I am going to beat your will to continue of you, but I have no doubt that it won't be as easy of a task as it was the first time. Your entire career is riding on this one match, your biggest ever. Fail or succeed, sink or swim. You're going to come out guns blazing, and I know this. But I am the man who will end all of your hope, all of your aspirations and dreams, and end any shot you ever have at being a champion here. I am going to walk into Second Chance and make good on my second chance. My second chance to show that even though I am a monster, even though it is hard for me to show even the slightest amount of human decency, I can feel love. I love this title, I love this company and most of all I love being the best at what I do. In this match you will try, just like in that promo you tried. I just hope you're smart enough to know when to feel stupid.

My question, Mez, is do you love yourself enough to know when to quit?"]]> A warm, loving embrace.

What is it?

Is it true?

Are human beings even truly capable of love? When you want love as much as anything in the world, it never comes, but when you aren't ready it smacks you in the face. Things, and people, you'd never expect to love or to love you back end up being your dearest things. Locket material. Things that you throw away. But those that you love, you often let them go.

Why is that?

Afraid that love is the route of all evil? Fuck money. Money doesn't buy happiness, it buys friends. But love, love can't be bought, it happens spontaneously. It happens whether you want it to or not. It happens with reckless abandon. It comes at you like a predator. You have no chance.

When you don't think you are capable of love anymore, it smacks you in the face. BUT, can you love a possession more than a person? More than yourself? Absolutely. You see, posessions define you as a person. The person with the most is often the person who is viewed as the best. The people with the least either steal their way into having the most, or spend their entire life pitying others into buying it for them.

Or they die with nothing.

Life doesn't come with many options, but the ones it does give you are magnificent. Have it all, or die alone. If God exists, why is there a hell?

A shiny piece of metal, you never thought it would be the love of your life. You never thought it could make you love yourself. You never thought you'd be looking at it everyday.
Now you hold it in the highest regard. Your blood, sweat, tears went into it. Now, you get to show it off.

She hates you with every fiber of her being but she will still spoon with you at night because she needs you like you need it. You are her trophy, her prize, but to you she is just another object on the wall. There was a rating system, and you have to decide what you love the most.

But do you love it?

Can you?

Is love a real thing?

Sometimes.........you have to know when to love and when to hate....even if you hate what you love and love what you hate.......

...........because love, and hate, are the reasons you are.

It looked like a tornado had come through. There was stuff everywhere. Clothes, glass, assorted family room ornimates, you name it. It was all flipped upside down like the place had been ransacked.

All you could hear is the weazing breaths of your lover, as if she was 10 years into emphezema, and her ragad sobs as she tore through yet another part of the house. She knew what you were doing, knew who you were, but she loved you anyway. It was her love that made her crazy, often irrational and usually deulsional. Her idea that you could love her more than something you posess isn't too far out of the realm of logic, right?

Wrong.

You possess her. You own her. You own her soul, her being, her very fucking nature. She is nothing without you, but you'd be fine without her. She hates it, but all you need is your shiny piece of metal. All you need is the ability to go out there every day and do what you love. All you need is the ability to love yourself because you are incapable of loving anything else.

Now, you have scratches on your face, bruises on you arms, and blood on your lip. You have your battle scars, in more ways than one, all because of love.

Her love for you, your love for what you have, and the love you both share for.................

You.

If love can cause so much hate, why is love so important?


Because without love, you'd never know you had the ability to hate.

[Image: 2Y6q4ZQ.png]

"You said it yourself, Mez. Why do you even need me? You admitted you'd be fighting nobodies your entire life, even long after I am gone. I will have put my work in and retired as a vaunted legend while you are sitting in a high school gym somewhere stringing together ripped leather boots for a paycheck that Sunoco would laugh at. You admitted that yourself, so apparently you are learning. My work here is done, is it not? You see Mez, I am the kind of guy who knows my self worth. I am the kind of guy who can back up all the shit I talk. Do you think I would be this cocky if I was wallowing down in your territory of the card?
No. I'd be like you, talking about motivation and inspiration and what not. But I have earned the right to be confident. I have earned the right to come into this match as the favorite and tell people I am at the same time. What have you earned? I am failing to see that part. I am failing to see where you get off thinking that we are in any way shape or form equal.

We aren't.

But I am proud that you have stopped that bottom lip from quivering. I am glad you got balls enough to flat out say you were going to beat me and take this title. I am glad you came out and stopped being a pussy for once, hiding behind excuses as to why you aren't as good in the ring as you are in your wet dreams. You contridicted yourself more than a politician with autism. First, you'll be fighting long after me against undercard talent for god knows how long, then you're going to beat me and take this title and become for the first time in your pathetic life more than just a shadow following the big names around. Which one is it? A forever-nobody or a TV Champ with a win over the best in the world on your resume? You really need to get your stories straight bub. Don't worry about what CM Punk said and what I said, worry about not sounding like a total douche when you cut a promo. Try to worry about how you sound because if you are going to be a champion---its hard to say that with a straight face---you are going to need to know how to sound professional. That used to be one of the biggest knocks on me. I'd get so excited, like a puppy just learning to run for the first time, and would sometimes not think before I said things. Nuh-uh, no sir, no longer. I am no longer the fluke champion who got lucky in the cage but a double champion who has a dominating win/loss record and has beaten some of the best this business has to offer. You see, there is respect involved in this as well. There is a certain measure of respect that we all earn. I feel I have earned some respect, no? I feel like people look up to me now. Do you feel that way about yourself, Mez? I don't think you should be in the position to point fingers at others unles you can point one at yourself.

Do you love yourself? I love myself. I love everything about me, even my flaws. That is why I can accept my flaws. I can accept them with a smile because they make me who I am. They make me whole. If I had never lost the Universal Title, I would be a head in the clouds plastic champion with my head up my ass and would think I was untouchable. Someone like you could swoop in and beat me and send the earth out of orbit. But now that I have been around the block, and I know how it is not only to be successful but also how it feels to fail, I am not going to let someone like you sneak up on me. I don't sleep on people, Mez. You are going to bring the fight of your life, I know it. I am going to beat your will to continue of you, but I have no doubt that it won't be as easy of a task as it was the first time. Your entire career is riding on this one match, your biggest ever. Fail or succeed, sink or swim. You're going to come out guns blazing, and I know this. But I am the man who will end all of your hope, all of your aspirations and dreams, and end any shot you ever have at being a champion here. I am going to walk into Second Chance and make good on my second chance. My second chance to show that even though I am a monster, even though it is hard for me to show even the slightest amount of human decency, I can feel love. I love this title, I love this company and most of all I love being the best at what I do. In this match you will try, just like in that promo you tried. I just hope you're smart enough to know when to feel stupid.

My question, Mez, is do you love yourself enough to know when to quit?"]]> <![CDATA[The Getaway]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31481 Sat, 26 May 2018 23:39:10 -0700 Ghost Tank]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31481


He was on the hunt, his leg bleeding, Bétail Cocodril on the move. However, he wasn't the only one seeking blood, as other alligators came after him, babies, but no doubt the children of the Bétail Cocodril for they were very large for their species. He constantly felt bites, and he'd have to swing his fists and smash the baby's skulls, which were not as thick as their parent, so when he smashed their skulls, they'd die instantly. He was done taking their shit, done with being bitten hard enough that chunks of his body could be taken from him, knowing that once he has found the goddamned thing, this whole ordeal would be finished. He knew Calypso would be a slippery motherfucker, and this alligator would be able to give him a fight, as well as being a slippery motherfucker. Strength and speed, things he knew Calypso had, mostly because of the Meathook match, he showed he had some power to get him on the hook.

Soon, he was close to the damnable thing. Or at least, he thought he was. The beasts continued to come, like a flood. The Bétail Cocodril must be one horny fuckin' beast to have made so many creatures. That's when he saw three of it. That's how he knew they were adult children of the fucker.

Hey assholes! DADDY'S HOME!

The three rushed GT, but two of them went for his legs, biting deeper than the babies, causing him to fall to his knees, that's when the third opened its jaws, and snapped around his midsection, causing Ghost Tank to roar out in anger and pain. The monsters began to perform the signature death roll in tandem, which caused Tank to be rolled around as if he was nothing more than one of the many prey these things typically eat. Rolling the massive man around in the swamp waters, not only caking Tank's body in mud, but the wounds from the babies were beginning to get caked in mud as well. However, unlike most people caught by a gator, especially ones being tossed around, Ghost Tank kept his wits about him, and his first action, was to time the roll, so that when they rolled him onto his back again, he immediately grabbed it by the skull and began to apply pressure, very powerful pressure, only to begin to forced around once more, but he kept that grip, and over time, that thick skull was cracking under his fingertips, and then eventually, the fingers pushed straight through and into its brain, piercing the soft meat and its grip loosened enough as it died, that Tank pried the creature's maw off of him. He then worked on the other one on his leg, but this time simply going straight for the mouth, his fingers bleeding as they are being cut up by its teeth, getting punctured deeply, but eventually yanking the mouth apart, only to pull further and further, letting out a roar of anger, and beginning to tear the creature apart like that Jap gummy candy, or like a chef cutting along the spine of a fish before removing both head and spine. Guts splashing into the water, chumming it. Then, after he flings the carcass away, he goes to work on the one constantly biting and piercing his midsection, powerful jaws trying to rip through his body, and since he didn't have to worry about the pests around his legs, he began to perform the same actions as he did to the Bétail Cocodril. Elbowing it in the skull, fracturing it until it released him, and he immediately grabbed it by what would equate to the bulky neck, and upon sheer anger he'd stand, knees buckling as he did so. only to swing the alligator hard into a nearby tree, cracking it and the alligator, then doing it again and again, until he had caused the skull to pretty much explode and the tree to fall down into the swamp as he released the now dead alligator. And much like a damned snake as if its name was Randy Orton, Bétail Cocodril came up from behind out of surprise, and bit Ghost Tank, with his right arm being swallowed whole, and its teeth clamped seemingly from shoulder to the bottom of the right side of his rib cage.

YOU MOTHERFUCKER! I'VE BEEN KILLING EVERYTHING, YOU WILL BE NO FUCKING DIFFERENT!

He forced himself through the pain, to begin to punch the goddamn thing from within, while simultaneously slamming his left hand to its skull. The two different blows made Bétail Cocodril think twice about this prey, and released him, but Ghost Tank was not letting this bastard go. Ohhhh no. Fuck that. Unlike the bear, he could actually fight more honorably. But this fucker fought dirty, its children fought on its behalf, and that was not motherfucking bueno. So, he'd catch the bastard by the neck before it could make its escape, and let out a loud yell as he lift the thing up in the air, blood oozing out of his body from the multiple amounts of wounds, and performed a vertical suplex on big bastard, but he would roll through after onto its belly, and began to wail upon it's less tough body area, punching it with such force his fists would be indented in the flesh. Then he began to hammerfist the alligator's belly, and went straight through it's stomach, and ripped out it's innards.

The fight was over. He had finally won, and now he could rest. He fell back, with his legs hanging in the water, while his upper body was laying atop mud and grass, finally 'sleeping' off his wounds from a battle well won.



Piggyboy, you're wrong. Y'see, Second Chance means only one thing. It means it's a second chance for me to resume the missed future ahead of me. You know nothing about me, motherfucker. You know my father, sure, but that is not me. I just find it funny that a man like you thinks he can leave and then come back and not think that the competition will be fiercer. Whether you think you know me, and I honestly can see the family resemblance, because I was created in my father's image from the days of when I ruled the roost in his mind. And I rather enjoy the look. I enjoy being told I look like my father. it means I can fight harder, just to prove to people that I'm my Father's son and pick up the pieces of his past.

The belt, however, will never be a part of your career. It's part of my destiny, and I will achieve it. This is my time. This isn't yours, and I will break every fucking bone in your body in order to show it. You want to see your head ripped off your body? You want your head worn like it's nothing more than a football helmet and as I go to score the fucking touchdown, I'll spike your head, face first, into the asshole of Calypso before I pin the little bitch and win the championship belt!

At this pay-per-view, I will be dominating the ring. I will bring forth destruction of two unworthy combatants, as I claim my birthright, and move into the upper echelons of the XWF. I will aim to hold onto the fucking belt longer than anyone else has held it. It will be synonymous with my fucking name. And not only that, but what else will Calypso be saying after I decimate him? Absolutely fucking nothing. It will show his win that day was nothing more than a fucking fluke. You, however, are the only man I care about. Y'see, you are like me. You rely on power. As do I. I think during the match, it will be a match up of strength against strength, to see which one of us has the most strength beneath the skin. And you will end up seeing, Piggy, that it isn't you. You will never be a challenge. You'll be a fun fight, but once I dominate you and you become nothing more than the soft squealing little bitch pig you are destined to be, I'll never have reason to fight you again, unless management says I have to. Other than that, you'll be shown that you're nothing more than a win in my resumed career. This match will be nothing more than a W as I bring myself back onto the path of blood and power I left years ago, forcibly, by my father.

It's time, Pig. It's more than time, Calypso.

Tomorrow, you will be brought into a world of pain and suffering you both have never seen before, never felt before. Tomorrow, you enter the ring with the New Breed of Beast, a New Kind of Monster. And when I bathe in the blood of my enemies, you will see and feel why I call myself that.

Look into your mirrors for a long time before you leave your homes. Because when I am finished with you both, you will never look that good ever again in your pathetic lives.

[Image: IwwMRRX.gif]
]]>


He was on the hunt, his leg bleeding, Bétail Cocodril on the move. However, he wasn't the only one seeking blood, as other alligators came after him, babies, but no doubt the children of the Bétail Cocodril for they were very large for their species. He constantly felt bites, and he'd have to swing his fists and smash the baby's skulls, which were not as thick as their parent, so when he smashed their skulls, they'd die instantly. He was done taking their shit, done with being bitten hard enough that chunks of his body could be taken from him, knowing that once he has found the goddamned thing, this whole ordeal would be finished. He knew Calypso would be a slippery motherfucker, and this alligator would be able to give him a fight, as well as being a slippery motherfucker. Strength and speed, things he knew Calypso had, mostly because of the Meathook match, he showed he had some power to get him on the hook.

Soon, he was close to the damnable thing. Or at least, he thought he was. The beasts continued to come, like a flood. The Bétail Cocodril must be one horny fuckin' beast to have made so many creatures. That's when he saw three of it. That's how he knew they were adult children of the fucker.

Hey assholes! DADDY'S HOME!

The three rushed GT, but two of them went for his legs, biting deeper than the babies, causing him to fall to his knees, that's when the third opened its jaws, and snapped around his midsection, causing Ghost Tank to roar out in anger and pain. The monsters began to perform the signature death roll in tandem, which caused Tank to be rolled around as if he was nothing more than one of the many prey these things typically eat. Rolling the massive man around in the swamp waters, not only caking Tank's body in mud, but the wounds from the babies were beginning to get caked in mud as well. However, unlike most people caught by a gator, especially ones being tossed around, Ghost Tank kept his wits about him, and his first action, was to time the roll, so that when they rolled him onto his back again, he immediately grabbed it by the skull and began to apply pressure, very powerful pressure, only to begin to forced around once more, but he kept that grip, and over time, that thick skull was cracking under his fingertips, and then eventually, the fingers pushed straight through and into its brain, piercing the soft meat and its grip loosened enough as it died, that Tank pried the creature's maw off of him. He then worked on the other one on his leg, but this time simply going straight for the mouth, his fingers bleeding as they are being cut up by its teeth, getting punctured deeply, but eventually yanking the mouth apart, only to pull further and further, letting out a roar of anger, and beginning to tear the creature apart like that Jap gummy candy, or like a chef cutting along the spine of a fish before removing both head and spine. Guts splashing into the water, chumming it. Then, after he flings the carcass away, he goes to work on the one constantly biting and piercing his midsection, powerful jaws trying to rip through his body, and since he didn't have to worry about the pests around his legs, he began to perform the same actions as he did to the Bétail Cocodril. Elbowing it in the skull, fracturing it until it released him, and he immediately grabbed it by what would equate to the bulky neck, and upon sheer anger he'd stand, knees buckling as he did so. only to swing the alligator hard into a nearby tree, cracking it and the alligator, then doing it again and again, until he had caused the skull to pretty much explode and the tree to fall down into the swamp as he released the now dead alligator. And much like a damned snake as if its name was Randy Orton, Bétail Cocodril came up from behind out of surprise, and bit Ghost Tank, with his right arm being swallowed whole, and its teeth clamped seemingly from shoulder to the bottom of the right side of his rib cage.

YOU MOTHERFUCKER! I'VE BEEN KILLING EVERYTHING, YOU WILL BE NO FUCKING DIFFERENT!

He forced himself through the pain, to begin to punch the goddamn thing from within, while simultaneously slamming his left hand to its skull. The two different blows made Bétail Cocodril think twice about this prey, and released him, but Ghost Tank was not letting this bastard go. Ohhhh no. Fuck that. Unlike the bear, he could actually fight more honorably. But this fucker fought dirty, its children fought on its behalf, and that was not motherfucking bueno. So, he'd catch the bastard by the neck before it could make its escape, and let out a loud yell as he lift the thing up in the air, blood oozing out of his body from the multiple amounts of wounds, and performed a vertical suplex on big bastard, but he would roll through after onto its belly, and began to wail upon it's less tough body area, punching it with such force his fists would be indented in the flesh. Then he began to hammerfist the alligator's belly, and went straight through it's stomach, and ripped out it's innards.

The fight was over. He had finally won, and now he could rest. He fell back, with his legs hanging in the water, while his upper body was laying atop mud and grass, finally 'sleeping' off his wounds from a battle well won.



Piggyboy, you're wrong. Y'see, Second Chance means only one thing. It means it's a second chance for me to resume the missed future ahead of me. You know nothing about me, motherfucker. You know my father, sure, but that is not me. I just find it funny that a man like you thinks he can leave and then come back and not think that the competition will be fiercer. Whether you think you know me, and I honestly can see the family resemblance, because I was created in my father's image from the days of when I ruled the roost in his mind. And I rather enjoy the look. I enjoy being told I look like my father. it means I can fight harder, just to prove to people that I'm my Father's son and pick up the pieces of his past.

The belt, however, will never be a part of your career. It's part of my destiny, and I will achieve it. This is my time. This isn't yours, and I will break every fucking bone in your body in order to show it. You want to see your head ripped off your body? You want your head worn like it's nothing more than a football helmet and as I go to score the fucking touchdown, I'll spike your head, face first, into the asshole of Calypso before I pin the little bitch and win the championship belt!

At this pay-per-view, I will be dominating the ring. I will bring forth destruction of two unworthy combatants, as I claim my birthright, and move into the upper echelons of the XWF. I will aim to hold onto the fucking belt longer than anyone else has held it. It will be synonymous with my fucking name. And not only that, but what else will Calypso be saying after I decimate him? Absolutely fucking nothing. It will show his win that day was nothing more than a fucking fluke. You, however, are the only man I care about. Y'see, you are like me. You rely on power. As do I. I think during the match, it will be a match up of strength against strength, to see which one of us has the most strength beneath the skin. And you will end up seeing, Piggy, that it isn't you. You will never be a challenge. You'll be a fun fight, but once I dominate you and you become nothing more than the soft squealing little bitch pig you are destined to be, I'll never have reason to fight you again, unless management says I have to. Other than that, you'll be shown that you're nothing more than a win in my resumed career. This match will be nothing more than a W as I bring myself back onto the path of blood and power I left years ago, forcibly, by my father.

It's time, Pig. It's more than time, Calypso.

Tomorrow, you will be brought into a world of pain and suffering you both have never seen before, never felt before. Tomorrow, you enter the ring with the New Breed of Beast, a New Kind of Monster. And when I bathe in the blood of my enemies, you will see and feel why I call myself that.

Look into your mirrors for a long time before you leave your homes. Because when I am finished with you both, you will never look that good ever again in your pathetic lives.

[Image: IwwMRRX.gif]
]]> <![CDATA[Chance encounters of the third kind (rp2)]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31479 Sat, 26 May 2018 22:40:14 -0700 Griffin MacAlister]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31479


It's a scorcher today in Chicago. The kinda weather, where you could toss an egg out your fuckin' window and then by the time you hit the streets after exitin' your crib, you'll find that shit laying, cooked on the sidewalk. Most folks would hunker down, bunker style in their homes during this type of heat. Lay low and not do shit. Hidden away in the comfort of air conditioning, till nightfall. Not this jackass. Nah. I have to take my happy ass down to my landlord's home and explain, why I had to pay him in cash. Now, I know I made it clear to this motherfucker that it was my requirement for renting, that I pay my rent in cash. I don't like paper trails. He and I had this conversation over the phone. Everything was peachy keen. I paid him first and last months rent, along with a deposit. Got my keys. It was all straight. Then suddenly, it's a different story. Now I have to explain my situation. Tell him exactly why, I need this requirement of paying strictly in cash. Give my reasons in full detail and lay it all out for him. I also have to do this without pullin' my Colt 45 and puttin' a nice, bullet sized hole in his head. Which would feel real good but would also send me looking for a new place and I really don't want to go through all that crap again. So here I go. To the landlord's place of residence, cause y'know this fucker can't make it easy.

Nope. He can't show up here or even live in the building. Nah. This dude lives all the way down by the lake. In a place that would more than likely make my apartment look like a crack den or some shit. Which it is not. Hell no, it's not. I mean I might not have high standards, but I do have standards. My apartment isn't covered in trash or infested with vermin, nor are there any burnin' drums in it with homeless bastards standing around them. No ways. My place is clean, simple and cheap. Yes. But it's also livable aka not a squalor dump. It just isn't the type of place you'd expect a televised wrestler to live in. Translation, it ain't fancy. Why isn't it fancy? Hmmm... well, cause I'm not the type o' guy that needs all that shit in his life. I like it simple. Uncomplicated. Meaning... I'm a dude with little wants and fewer possessions. All I need is a place to sleep, food in my belly, clothes on my back, boots on my feet, my bike and a healthy supply of weed and I'm a happy fuckin' camper. Everything else is expendable. Unnecessary. So when someone threatens to take away the tiny bit that I do appreciate in life. I get pissed. Real fuckin' pissed. This man renting to me is not going to come face to face with a pleasant Griffin.

First I gotta get there though. And I admit, I'm draggin' ass to do this shit cause I find the situation completely insufferable. I'm taking my time. I hit the bowl and I've got some Oi crankin'. Eventually, I leave my apartment and head straight towards my bike. Really looking forward to jumping on that thing too cause it's hot as fuck out and there's only street parking. So this also stops me in my tracks and causes me to fire up a smoke, while I just look at my motorcycle. Sorta stare it down. Yeah. Real mature. It's the bike's fault. Not mine, for not doing something that made sense... like park it under a tree. Hey, gimme a break though. I'm in a shitty mood.

Anyway, I take a drag from my coffin nail and start to wonder if this is a sign, that I should actually get a car. When all of a sudden, some dude comes rushing past me, like his ass is on fire. He's about my height, maybe a little taller. This isn't a red flag though. Chicago is choc full of dumb ass motherfuckers doin' stupid shit without any regard for who's standin' in front of them. He didn't run into me or anything. So his antics don't really stick out. What sticks out is the ski mask. Yeah. That's the first thing that sticks out like a sore thumb. Not exactly weather appropriate at all. Second, is the messenger bag that he's got, clutched tightly under his arm. Not too weird, not unless you take into account that it's bright ass purple... oh and the fact that, dude's rockin' a ski mask. Third, is the woman chasing after him. She on the other hand, does manage to crash right into me. Like full on, smashes into me. Head on collision style.

She hits the ground. Lands flat on her back. I get knocked back and make friends with the concrete. Cigarette takes flight. It's a fuckin' disaster. Seriously. I have never been so fully taken off guard and affected that terribly by a broad. I blame taking note of the guy in the ski mask but really, I shoulda caught myself better than that. It was a chick after all. And I'm not talking about some lady built like old school Chyna or Awesome Kong. This girl is small. Petite even. Lets just say this is not one of my proudest moments. Anyways, I pick my ass off the sidewalk and walk over to the spot, where the female is now sitting up and holding her head. I'm not the nicest guy in the world. Lets face it. I'm an asshole. On a regular basis, kinda asshole. Still I reach down and help the girl up. With ease too. Makin' the whole collision even more embarrassing.

Whatever. I'm over it. She got me good... case closed. Anyhow, this woman looks upset and it's understandable. Her stuff got snatched. I'd be mad as fuck too. Except I woulda caught dude and accomplished the task without taking myself and someone else out in the process. I also wouldn't have been carrying a bright purple messenger bag. I'm not fuckin' Scorpio over here. That's not a slam either. I seen it. I was roaming the XWF halls one day and suddenly, there was Scorpio and he was carrying, almost the same type of bag, except his was more of a florescent purple, appeared to be made outta vinyl and was completely bedazzled in rhinestones. This is all besides the issue at hand though. The issue at hand was this. Now I'm lookin' at this girl and that feeling of overwhelming guilt hits me. Yeah, I'm an asshole, but this can happen to me too. I'm not made of stone and the situation warranted it... kinda. The woman got her crap stolen. So internally I start an argument with myself, there's a lot of cursing, it's pointless to recant. Ultimately, I tell her to hold up. I got this. I'm a fuckin' chump... I know. I also know that I can't explain why I'm doing this for her. I simply do this shit. Almost on instinct.

The guy was running like a mad man down the sidewalk, headed south. Okay. This pursuit is going to be simple. I take the sinners sidewalk. In other words, I take the alleys. (Haha! Sorry. I had a cop call them that to my face once, back when I was a young punk kid, still cracks me up to this day. True story.) Chicago is full of alleyways. I still know them like the back of my hand. Making maneuvering them a breeze. Of course, you might run into a dead end but there's always a way around that and this is what makes hoppin' fences, a much needed skill. One that I practically honed when I was younger. With this strategy in play, I steadily make my way down the course that I've already got mapped out in my head perfectly. Leading directly to an alley that will put me right in front of dude as he comes careening down the street. He was going fast but c'mon... I'm a living weapon, I'm faster.

This isn't bragging either. It's the truth. I am. I'm also correct about the guy. I see him heading for me. Looking back over his shoulder, more than in front of him. Probably, wondering where that girl that was giving chase was, since she wasn't still gunnin' down the road in hot pursuit after his ass. I see this and take the easy method and stick out my foot. Nice and shiny, straight laced, black Grinder, right out there. Far enough to really make an impact and it does... magnificently. The man trips. Really fucking trips. With his eyes bulging and his arms flailing around like he's trying to take flight. This is the king mega of all trip and falls. He makes some distance too. Feet totally off the ground. He knows he's fucked. I know he's fucked. It's fuckin' great. This whole scenario even pulls a chuckle outta me as I reach out and catch the bag before it hits the ground. Dude isn't so lucky though. He faceplants the pavement. Hard. Instantly, there's blood. I swear I heard the crunch of something breaking too, maybe even more than one something. Also a couple of teeth managed to crack out of his mouth and pierce through the ski mask, cause they're laying on the ground in front of him now, surrounded in an increasingly growing pool of blood. There's no question. This dude got his shit fucked up. Bad.

That's not my problem though. He learned a very valuable lesson today and he should be happy about that. Don't be stupid if you're going to be a thief. Especially if you're going the route of a grab and go. Plus he's still breathing. So there's also that. He lives to be an idiot for another day. Me, on the other hand, I get to look like the nice guy, for once in my life at least. I walk on back down the avenue and I see the girl, she's comin' up the sidewalk in the opposite direction. Ecstatic as fuck. We meet up somewhere, midway to where I left her and she hugs me, while doing this sorta half-hop kinda thing. Needless to say I'm greeted with a very girly moment. This sort of moment doesn't really take place in my life often, so I let it run its course and then hand her the bag. Now this is where it gets interesting. She's looking up at me with these big ol' brown eyes. Standin' no taller than 5'5" give or take and she says...

"Oh wow! Thank you! Thank you so much! I totally owe you. What are you doing right now? I have to get you a cup of coffee and hear how you did that."

"Did what?"

"How you caught that guy."

"It's cool. Don't sweat it. You don't owe me anything. It was my pleasure to help you get your sh... your stuff, back."

"No, I insist. I need to know. Come on, do you really have something that important to do? You did just save a total stranger's bag."

This is followed by a laugh. She's got me. Yeah, I do have something important to do but I can put it off. I didn't want to deal with that bullshit anyway. Someone woulda wound up dead, in the end. Whatever. She through out the bait. Griffin MacAlister turned into a fish and she hooked him. Plain and simple. Don't judge. She's cute and... it's been a fuckin' while since I had cute in my life.

"Nah. I don't have anything that important to do. I'm in, lets get coffee."

"Awesome."

Again, another one of those excited half-hops that girls do when they're excited and a smile, that would literally stop traffic. In a good way. I'm just sayin' that if she wanted to, she could halt traffic. And by the looks of her, the reason would be to allow safe passage for some ducks to waddle off to a pond. That's right. All of five minutes of knowing her and I already can tell, she's got that kinda sweetness in her.

"Well, first thing's first. I need to know the name of my superhero."

I'm not elaborating on this either. She said superhero. I know. I'm shocked too but it happened. Then she extended her hand out. To which I accepted the offer and the handshake process took place.

"Griffin MacAlister."

"Nice to meet you Griffin MacAlister. I'm Lila, Lila Laroque."

[Image: DGHJapO.jpg]

Yep. That just happened.]]>


It's a scorcher today in Chicago. The kinda weather, where you could toss an egg out your fuckin' window and then by the time you hit the streets after exitin' your crib, you'll find that shit laying, cooked on the sidewalk. Most folks would hunker down, bunker style in their homes during this type of heat. Lay low and not do shit. Hidden away in the comfort of air conditioning, till nightfall. Not this jackass. Nah. I have to take my happy ass down to my landlord's home and explain, why I had to pay him in cash. Now, I know I made it clear to this motherfucker that it was my requirement for renting, that I pay my rent in cash. I don't like paper trails. He and I had this conversation over the phone. Everything was peachy keen. I paid him first and last months rent, along with a deposit. Got my keys. It was all straight. Then suddenly, it's a different story. Now I have to explain my situation. Tell him exactly why, I need this requirement of paying strictly in cash. Give my reasons in full detail and lay it all out for him. I also have to do this without pullin' my Colt 45 and puttin' a nice, bullet sized hole in his head. Which would feel real good but would also send me looking for a new place and I really don't want to go through all that crap again. So here I go. To the landlord's place of residence, cause y'know this fucker can't make it easy.

Nope. He can't show up here or even live in the building. Nah. This dude lives all the way down by the lake. In a place that would more than likely make my apartment look like a crack den or some shit. Which it is not. Hell no, it's not. I mean I might not have high standards, but I do have standards. My apartment isn't covered in trash or infested with vermin, nor are there any burnin' drums in it with homeless bastards standing around them. No ways. My place is clean, simple and cheap. Yes. But it's also livable aka not a squalor dump. It just isn't the type of place you'd expect a televised wrestler to live in. Translation, it ain't fancy. Why isn't it fancy? Hmmm... well, cause I'm not the type o' guy that needs all that shit in his life. I like it simple. Uncomplicated. Meaning... I'm a dude with little wants and fewer possessions. All I need is a place to sleep, food in my belly, clothes on my back, boots on my feet, my bike and a healthy supply of weed and I'm a happy fuckin' camper. Everything else is expendable. Unnecessary. So when someone threatens to take away the tiny bit that I do appreciate in life. I get pissed. Real fuckin' pissed. This man renting to me is not going to come face to face with a pleasant Griffin.

First I gotta get there though. And I admit, I'm draggin' ass to do this shit cause I find the situation completely insufferable. I'm taking my time. I hit the bowl and I've got some Oi crankin'. Eventually, I leave my apartment and head straight towards my bike. Really looking forward to jumping on that thing too cause it's hot as fuck out and there's only street parking. So this also stops me in my tracks and causes me to fire up a smoke, while I just look at my motorcycle. Sorta stare it down. Yeah. Real mature. It's the bike's fault. Not mine, for not doing something that made sense... like park it under a tree. Hey, gimme a break though. I'm in a shitty mood.

Anyway, I take a drag from my coffin nail and start to wonder if this is a sign, that I should actually get a car. When all of a sudden, some dude comes rushing past me, like his ass is on fire. He's about my height, maybe a little taller. This isn't a red flag though. Chicago is choc full of dumb ass motherfuckers doin' stupid shit without any regard for who's standin' in front of them. He didn't run into me or anything. So his antics don't really stick out. What sticks out is the ski mask. Yeah. That's the first thing that sticks out like a sore thumb. Not exactly weather appropriate at all. Second, is the messenger bag that he's got, clutched tightly under his arm. Not too weird, not unless you take into account that it's bright ass purple... oh and the fact that, dude's rockin' a ski mask. Third, is the woman chasing after him. She on the other hand, does manage to crash right into me. Like full on, smashes into me. Head on collision style.

She hits the ground. Lands flat on her back. I get knocked back and make friends with the concrete. Cigarette takes flight. It's a fuckin' disaster. Seriously. I have never been so fully taken off guard and affected that terribly by a broad. I blame taking note of the guy in the ski mask but really, I shoulda caught myself better than that. It was a chick after all. And I'm not talking about some lady built like old school Chyna or Awesome Kong. This girl is small. Petite even. Lets just say this is not one of my proudest moments. Anyways, I pick my ass off the sidewalk and walk over to the spot, where the female is now sitting up and holding her head. I'm not the nicest guy in the world. Lets face it. I'm an asshole. On a regular basis, kinda asshole. Still I reach down and help the girl up. With ease too. Makin' the whole collision even more embarrassing.

Whatever. I'm over it. She got me good... case closed. Anyhow, this woman looks upset and it's understandable. Her stuff got snatched. I'd be mad as fuck too. Except I woulda caught dude and accomplished the task without taking myself and someone else out in the process. I also wouldn't have been carrying a bright purple messenger bag. I'm not fuckin' Scorpio over here. That's not a slam either. I seen it. I was roaming the XWF halls one day and suddenly, there was Scorpio and he was carrying, almost the same type of bag, except his was more of a florescent purple, appeared to be made outta vinyl and was completely bedazzled in rhinestones. This is all besides the issue at hand though. The issue at hand was this. Now I'm lookin' at this girl and that feeling of overwhelming guilt hits me. Yeah, I'm an asshole, but this can happen to me too. I'm not made of stone and the situation warranted it... kinda. The woman got her crap stolen. So internally I start an argument with myself, there's a lot of cursing, it's pointless to recant. Ultimately, I tell her to hold up. I got this. I'm a fuckin' chump... I know. I also know that I can't explain why I'm doing this for her. I simply do this shit. Almost on instinct.

The guy was running like a mad man down the sidewalk, headed south. Okay. This pursuit is going to be simple. I take the sinners sidewalk. In other words, I take the alleys. (Haha! Sorry. I had a cop call them that to my face once, back when I was a young punk kid, still cracks me up to this day. True story.) Chicago is full of alleyways. I still know them like the back of my hand. Making maneuvering them a breeze. Of course, you might run into a dead end but there's always a way around that and this is what makes hoppin' fences, a much needed skill. One that I practically honed when I was younger. With this strategy in play, I steadily make my way down the course that I've already got mapped out in my head perfectly. Leading directly to an alley that will put me right in front of dude as he comes careening down the street. He was going fast but c'mon... I'm a living weapon, I'm faster.

This isn't bragging either. It's the truth. I am. I'm also correct about the guy. I see him heading for me. Looking back over his shoulder, more than in front of him. Probably, wondering where that girl that was giving chase was, since she wasn't still gunnin' down the road in hot pursuit after his ass. I see this and take the easy method and stick out my foot. Nice and shiny, straight laced, black Grinder, right out there. Far enough to really make an impact and it does... magnificently. The man trips. Really fucking trips. With his eyes bulging and his arms flailing around like he's trying to take flight. This is the king mega of all trip and falls. He makes some distance too. Feet totally off the ground. He knows he's fucked. I know he's fucked. It's fuckin' great. This whole scenario even pulls a chuckle outta me as I reach out and catch the bag before it hits the ground. Dude isn't so lucky though. He faceplants the pavement. Hard. Instantly, there's blood. I swear I heard the crunch of something breaking too, maybe even more than one something. Also a couple of teeth managed to crack out of his mouth and pierce through the ski mask, cause they're laying on the ground in front of him now, surrounded in an increasingly growing pool of blood. There's no question. This dude got his shit fucked up. Bad.

That's not my problem though. He learned a very valuable lesson today and he should be happy about that. Don't be stupid if you're going to be a thief. Especially if you're going the route of a grab and go. Plus he's still breathing. So there's also that. He lives to be an idiot for another day. Me, on the other hand, I get to look like the nice guy, for once in my life at least. I walk on back down the avenue and I see the girl, she's comin' up the sidewalk in the opposite direction. Ecstatic as fuck. We meet up somewhere, midway to where I left her and she hugs me, while doing this sorta half-hop kinda thing. Needless to say I'm greeted with a very girly moment. This sort of moment doesn't really take place in my life often, so I let it run its course and then hand her the bag. Now this is where it gets interesting. She's looking up at me with these big ol' brown eyes. Standin' no taller than 5'5" give or take and she says...

"Oh wow! Thank you! Thank you so much! I totally owe you. What are you doing right now? I have to get you a cup of coffee and hear how you did that."

"Did what?"

"How you caught that guy."

"It's cool. Don't sweat it. You don't owe me anything. It was my pleasure to help you get your sh... your stuff, back."

"No, I insist. I need to know. Come on, do you really have something that important to do? You did just save a total stranger's bag."

This is followed by a laugh. She's got me. Yeah, I do have something important to do but I can put it off. I didn't want to deal with that bullshit anyway. Someone woulda wound up dead, in the end. Whatever. She through out the bait. Griffin MacAlister turned into a fish and she hooked him. Plain and simple. Don't judge. She's cute and... it's been a fuckin' while since I had cute in my life.

"Nah. I don't have anything that important to do. I'm in, lets get coffee."

"Awesome."

Again, another one of those excited half-hops that girls do when they're excited and a smile, that would literally stop traffic. In a good way. I'm just sayin' that if she wanted to, she could halt traffic. And by the looks of her, the reason would be to allow safe passage for some ducks to waddle off to a pond. That's right. All of five minutes of knowing her and I already can tell, she's got that kinda sweetness in her.

"Well, first thing's first. I need to know the name of my superhero."

I'm not elaborating on this either. She said superhero. I know. I'm shocked too but it happened. Then she extended her hand out. To which I accepted the offer and the handshake process took place.

"Griffin MacAlister."

"Nice to meet you Griffin MacAlister. I'm Lila, Lila Laroque."

[Image: DGHJapO.jpg]

Yep. That just happened.]]> <![CDATA[Unkindness of Ravens pt 4]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31478 Sat, 26 May 2018 20:30:21 -0700 Mezian]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31478 Mezian sat in the church waiting for Draziol or whoever was on their way to come pick him up.

[Image: depositphotos_10291129-stock-photo-inter...ral-of.jpg]

He admired the woodwork and the engravings on everything. He thought to himself that at least he would die in a beautiful place. Mezian felt something in the veil, it was strong and angry. It as moving towards him at a high speed. The shadows cast by the sunlight coming through windows ceased to exist and the room got cold.

The air around him began to vibrate and the pews in front and behind exploded. In fact, all of the pews but the one he was sitting in exploded and vanished. He couldn't move his legs of his arms. He screamed but he made no noise. He tried to move his head around to see what was happening but that wouldn't move either.

This was it, this was the moment he was waiting for...It was Draziol and he was right on top of him.Mezian's head was wrenched upwards towards the pulpit. Draziol stood there smiling, he had a look of accomplishment. He thought he had won, and for all intents and purposes, he had. He stayed up there as he began to speak.

Should I give a sermon on the fallacy of your existence? Maybe I should explain how you are and always will be below me. You are vermin in the eyes of the council and when I end you I will receive the greatest of rewards. I will get a seat on the council, I will be the Wrath of the Council. I know you and I haven't seen eye to eye but this was a war you should have seen ending badly. We have the infinite resources of the veil. We have agents everywhere, what can you and your motley crew do to stop us?


Mezian sat there mouthing words as Draziol rambled on. After a few moments, Draziol out of frustration yelled at Mezian.

Are you FUCKING mocking me?

Mezian continued to mouth words. Now with a smirk in between each word. If he wasn't mocking him before he was now.

Seriously! What the fuck are you saying over there? Are you trying you use an incantation to kill me? You know you cant kill me?

Draziol waved his hands and the silence was lifted. As the sound returned to the room the last words of what Mezian's words could be heard.
DR'THE ULVE ALDRED ACTUSI know I cant but he can.

Draziol is slammed in the face with an armored fist knocking him out of the pulpit and on to the floor of the church. The fall breaks his concentration and with it the spells holding Mezian in place. Draziol stares at the much larger Daemon with an awestruck and confused gaze.

[Image: images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTo5zGSOe5n-VB9CUZRwFn...OywwjVecN0]

Yeah, You may have all of the money and resources in the world, I have the one thing you don't. I have the support of the one being that hates you and the council just as much as I do. I made a deal with the devil, and it's not looking too good for you right now is it.? With my Daemon buddy here the holy ground isn't so holy now, is it? I am going to enjoy hurting you. When I am done here I am going for Raphael, I know he is nearby. I can feel him.

Draziol scurries to his feet and throws an energy wave towards his aggressor to create space. Mezian waves a hand and knocks it towards a nearby pillar. It cracks and crumbles a little from the force.

Are you trying to bring the place down on us?

Maybe? If I'm going to die I am bringing you with me.

Draziol gets to his feet and unsheathes his weapon and points it towards the Daemon.

Call off your attack dog or I will kill it.

I don't control him. He is trying to kill you of his own free will. You know that thing you tried to take away from the humans. Why should they treat you and the rest of your egotist friends like gods when you are no better than spoiled children?

As Mezian speaks the Daemon is swinging a weapon of his own at the stumbling Seraphim. Each swing barely missing a body part of Draziol.

All they wanted was to be free, to make their own choices, to make their own mistakes. No, you had to take that away from them they had to fall in line and follow the teachings of madmen. I had to fall in line, I had to do the dirty work the rest of you didn't have the stomach for. I could have protected him, I could have protected them all. But Micheal had to fuck it all up by making me teach our brother and sisters how to hunt and kill our kind. He left you in charge of the Legion. He left you in charge of protecting the creator. How did that work out...Huh? That's right, Lillith plunged a BloodSilver sword through his heart. You stood by as the only thing you had to protect was killed by your sister.I could have protected him. We didn't have to go to war with each other, but you and the others wouldn't listen. You just had to make a point. You just had to kill innocent people and change the fate of entire generations. All because you didn't get your way.

Draziol finally slew the Daemon with a jab through the heart with his sword. The daemon's body slumped and hit the ground. The body then turned to ash and burned away. Draziol stood over his kill and stared back at Mezian. He looked into the eyes of the being he once called brother and friend. And now he called him his enemy.

Do you think I wanted to kill all of those people? Do you think I wanted to protect the creator? I had no business doing any of that. I wish it could go back to the old ways where we were all happy and we lived in peace. But, we cant now. Its too late people have chosen sides. We have made choices that no one should have to make. I am not proud of what I have done or of what choices I have made but in war, there are always casualties. People have to die its just part of the great cycle. We have to do what is right at the time no matter the outcome. It is always better in the long run.

Mezian listening to Draziol became enraged.

Micheal said the same thing to me while I watched a volcano kill my family. As I watched my wife and children be enveloped by lava. As they chocked on soot and smoke until they died. That is the problem with you and the council. You see everyone that isn't you as a pawn piece in your greater game of chess. When actually you are the ones who are disposable. These humans have survived for millennia without your "supreme and divine intervention".They will survive for millennia more. I am just here to make sure that some assholes with little minds and huge egos don't fuck it all up. If that means I have to kill my own kinda few more times then I will. I have made my choice and I will have to live with it.

Mezian pulls off his grounding ring and places it on the floor. He allows the rage and anger of all he has lost overwhelm him and he shifts into his true form. He then pulls the sword of the ancients off of his back and points it at Draziol.

The two seraphim charge each other swinging swords at one another. Each clash of steel sends shock waves throughout the already unstable church. The two toss each other through the remaining few objects not broken in attempts to gain an advantage. There is little left in the church when the battle goes to the air.

Mezian and Draziol ascend to the upper rafters of the church to continue their combat. The last few pillars start to crumble as they swing wildly at each other. Finally, the roof begins to cave in and the Seraphim are forced to take the fight to the sky outside. They crash through the collapsing ceiling and turn their blades to each other once more. Now each clash of steel sounds like thunder splitting the sky open.

Draziol takes a higher position and dives towards Mezian sword pointed downward. Mezian sees the oncoming attack and knocks Draziol off course with his sword then grabs him by his neck.Draziol takes another shot at Mezian while is grappled, but it is knocked away with ease by Mezian. The blood silver sword falls to the ground piercing the dirt and gravel below.

I loved you, brother, I would have fought with you. I would have tried to change the outcome if I could have. I don't want to kill you Draziol, don't make me kill you...Please!

Draziol with his free hands tries to grab the sword of the ancients. He and Mezian begin to struggle in the air, each one trying to control the other while grasping at the sword. Mezian finally gets control as the sword plunges through the neck of Draziol. A shocked Meziain lets go of the sword and of Draziol. He watches as both fall to the ground, one made a sharp ping as it hit, the other a soft thud.
Mezian flew down to his fallen brother and held him in his arms as he bled out.

Why?...Why did you fight me? Why would you try and take the sword? I had the advantage, did I not teach you better than that?

Draziol tried to speak but the words were gargled with blood. So Mezian leaned in closer so he could hear him better. Mezian held him closer as he spoke his last words.

We have to do what is right at the time no matter the outcome. It is always better in the long run.

Draziol went limp in Mezian's arms as the rain began to pour and a car came back down the gravel driveway. The blood and rain began to puddle underneath the two. Mezian began to weep softly as he gave his last parting.

May you find the solace you seek and the peace you need in the veil, brother.

Abigail and her men got out of the car guns drawn and moving slowly towards Mezian and his fallen brother. She spoke as she inched closer to Mezian.

You Alright there love? Are you hurt? Do I need to call an ambulance? Or maybe a coroner van?

Mezian said nothing as she creped closer to him. Draziol began to glow with a bright light. Abigail and her men turned away. The explosion that soon followed knocked them off of their feet. Abigail stunned tried to get back to her feet. She was met with an outstretched hand...It was Mezian.

We don't die your normal way. You cant bury us, and you cant take us to a hospital. And we would blow apart a coroner van. When we die all that is left is our weapon, our memories, and a little crystal to let someone we know we existed. It's sad really, we live for ages and all that is left when we die are little rocks that are filled with what is left of our energy. That is why I won't die, I won't be reduced to a shiny rock for someone to add to their collection.

So what do you do with them all?

Mezian picked up his sword and the sword of Draziol. He hid them and turned back to Abigail to answer her question.

I collect them, every Celestial I have killed I have kept their crystal. It was a reminder of what I used to be. Now, its a reminder of what I have to be. I have hundreds if not thousands of them. Each one a unique person, each one a brother or sister. I remember all of their names. I remember all of the ways I have killed them and why.

Mezian took a moment to look at the puddles of rain and blood left by Draziol.

I have to take care of something. I will meet you back at your house.

To Be Continued


Chris, My dude, You say that me calling an egoist is a cliche. Then spout off about how you're the best at what you do. About how you have won eleven in a row. I don't get it if you don't want people to think that you have an ego why make it so, so, so, evident that you do. You should come up with a new gimmick bub, CM Punk already did that one, He actually is that good. Also, you are correct in your statement that English isn't my first language. In fact, it's my seventh language. But in all of that babble that you said you seem to missed something. The fact that everyone has said that they will" beat me within an inch of my life" yet no one has even come close.
This idea that you can actually do enough damage to threaten my existence is laughable at best, and downright sad at its worse. You see Chris when you are old and can't remember where you put your Viagra so you can beat off to the good ole days. I will still be fighting half-witted megalomaniacs like yourself. Hell maybe if you ever have a kid with some bimbo you knocked up while on tour I can kick his ass too.

You said that all the things you have accomplished you have done yourself. Which is admirable. But, at the same time, I have to wonder if that is your weakness. You are human you have flaws and fallacies. Humans are greedy and self-absorbed, you have to realize that when you fail, and you WILL FAIL, that is on you too. So while you and I are inside that ring I want you to know that every punch I throw, it's your fault. Every kick upside your stupid fucking head, your fault. And when you catch a knee to the face and they count to three it's your fault. You will walk out of this with no title and no dignity. While you are walking out of that arena check into getting money for your eyesight and Mental acuity because you have to be blind and to think you are going to win this.

YOUR END IS NIGH...]]> Mezian sat in the church waiting for Draziol or whoever was on their way to come pick him up.

[Image: depositphotos_10291129-stock-photo-inter...ral-of.jpg]

He admired the woodwork and the engravings on everything. He thought to himself that at least he would die in a beautiful place. Mezian felt something in the veil, it was strong and angry. It as moving towards him at a high speed. The shadows cast by the sunlight coming through windows ceased to exist and the room got cold.

The air around him began to vibrate and the pews in front and behind exploded. In fact, all of the pews but the one he was sitting in exploded and vanished. He couldn't move his legs of his arms. He screamed but he made no noise. He tried to move his head around to see what was happening but that wouldn't move either.

This was it, this was the moment he was waiting for...It was Draziol and he was right on top of him.Mezian's head was wrenched upwards towards the pulpit. Draziol stood there smiling, he had a look of accomplishment. He thought he had won, and for all intents and purposes, he had. He stayed up there as he began to speak.

Should I give a sermon on the fallacy of your existence? Maybe I should explain how you are and always will be below me. You are vermin in the eyes of the council and when I end you I will receive the greatest of rewards. I will get a seat on the council, I will be the Wrath of the Council. I know you and I haven't seen eye to eye but this was a war you should have seen ending badly. We have the infinite resources of the veil. We have agents everywhere, what can you and your motley crew do to stop us?


Mezian sat there mouthing words as Draziol rambled on. After a few moments, Draziol out of frustration yelled at Mezian.

Are you FUCKING mocking me?

Mezian continued to mouth words. Now with a smirk in between each word. If he wasn't mocking him before he was now.

Seriously! What the fuck are you saying over there? Are you trying you use an incantation to kill me? You know you cant kill me?

Draziol waved his hands and the silence was lifted. As the sound returned to the room the last words of what Mezian's words could be heard.
DR'THE ULVE ALDRED ACTUSI know I cant but he can.

Draziol is slammed in the face with an armored fist knocking him out of the pulpit and on to the floor of the church. The fall breaks his concentration and with it the spells holding Mezian in place. Draziol stares at the much larger Daemon with an awestruck and confused gaze.

[Image: images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTo5zGSOe5n-VB9CUZRwFn...OywwjVecN0]

Yeah, You may have all of the money and resources in the world, I have the one thing you don't. I have the support of the one being that hates you and the council just as much as I do. I made a deal with the devil, and it's not looking too good for you right now is it.? With my Daemon buddy here the holy ground isn't so holy now, is it? I am going to enjoy hurting you. When I am done here I am going for Raphael, I know he is nearby. I can feel him.

Draziol scurries to his feet and throws an energy wave towards his aggressor to create space. Mezian waves a hand and knocks it towards a nearby pillar. It cracks and crumbles a little from the force.

Are you trying to bring the place down on us?

Maybe? If I'm going to die I am bringing you with me.

Draziol gets to his feet and unsheathes his weapon and points it towards the Daemon.

Call off your attack dog or I will kill it.

I don't control him. He is trying to kill you of his own free will. You know that thing you tried to take away from the humans. Why should they treat you and the rest of your egotist friends like gods when you are no better than spoiled children?

As Mezian speaks the Daemon is swinging a weapon of his own at the stumbling Seraphim. Each swing barely missing a body part of Draziol.

All they wanted was to be free, to make their own choices, to make their own mistakes. No, you had to take that away from them they had to fall in line and follow the teachings of madmen. I had to fall in line, I had to do the dirty work the rest of you didn't have the stomach for. I could have protected him, I could have protected them all. But Micheal had to fuck it all up by making me teach our brother and sisters how to hunt and kill our kind. He left you in charge of the Legion. He left you in charge of protecting the creator. How did that work out...Huh? That's right, Lillith plunged a BloodSilver sword through his heart. You stood by as the only thing you had to protect was killed by your sister.I could have protected him. We didn't have to go to war with each other, but you and the others wouldn't listen. You just had to make a point. You just had to kill innocent people and change the fate of entire generations. All because you didn't get your way.

Draziol finally slew the Daemon with a jab through the heart with his sword. The daemon's body slumped and hit the ground. The body then turned to ash and burned away. Draziol stood over his kill and stared back at Mezian. He looked into the eyes of the being he once called brother and friend. And now he called him his enemy.

Do you think I wanted to kill all of those people? Do you think I wanted to protect the creator? I had no business doing any of that. I wish it could go back to the old ways where we were all happy and we lived in peace. But, we cant now. Its too late people have chosen sides. We have made choices that no one should have to make. I am not proud of what I have done or of what choices I have made but in war, there are always casualties. People have to die its just part of the great cycle. We have to do what is right at the time no matter the outcome. It is always better in the long run.

Mezian listening to Draziol became enraged.

Micheal said the same thing to me while I watched a volcano kill my family. As I watched my wife and children be enveloped by lava. As they chocked on soot and smoke until they died. That is the problem with you and the council. You see everyone that isn't you as a pawn piece in your greater game of chess. When actually you are the ones who are disposable. These humans have survived for millennia without your "supreme and divine intervention".They will survive for millennia more. I am just here to make sure that some assholes with little minds and huge egos don't fuck it all up. If that means I have to kill my own kinda few more times then I will. I have made my choice and I will have to live with it.

Mezian pulls off his grounding ring and places it on the floor. He allows the rage and anger of all he has lost overwhelm him and he shifts into his true form. He then pulls the sword of the ancients off of his back and points it at Draziol.

The two seraphim charge each other swinging swords at one another. Each clash of steel sends shock waves throughout the already unstable church. The two toss each other through the remaining few objects not broken in attempts to gain an advantage. There is little left in the church when the battle goes to the air.

Mezian and Draziol ascend to the upper rafters of the church to continue their combat. The last few pillars start to crumble as they swing wildly at each other. Finally, the roof begins to cave in and the Seraphim are forced to take the fight to the sky outside. They crash through the collapsing ceiling and turn their blades to each other once more. Now each clash of steel sounds like thunder splitting the sky open.

Draziol takes a higher position and dives towards Mezian sword pointed downward. Mezian sees the oncoming attack and knocks Draziol off course with his sword then grabs him by his neck.Draziol takes another shot at Mezian while is grappled, but it is knocked away with ease by Mezian. The blood silver sword falls to the ground piercing the dirt and gravel below.

I loved you, brother, I would have fought with you. I would have tried to change the outcome if I could have. I don't want to kill you Draziol, don't make me kill you...Please!

Draziol with his free hands tries to grab the sword of the ancients. He and Mezian begin to struggle in the air, each one trying to control the other while grasping at the sword. Mezian finally gets control as the sword plunges through the neck of Draziol. A shocked Meziain lets go of the sword and of Draziol. He watches as both fall to the ground, one made a sharp ping as it hit, the other a soft thud.
Mezian flew down to his fallen brother and held him in his arms as he bled out.

Why?...Why did you fight me? Why would you try and take the sword? I had the advantage, did I not teach you better than that?

Draziol tried to speak but the words were gargled with blood. So Mezian leaned in closer so he could hear him better. Mezian held him closer as he spoke his last words.

We have to do what is right at the time no matter the outcome. It is always better in the long run.

Draziol went limp in Mezian's arms as the rain began to pour and a car came back down the gravel driveway. The blood and rain began to puddle underneath the two. Mezian began to weep softly as he gave his last parting.

May you find the solace you seek and the peace you need in the veil, brother.

Abigail and her men got out of the car guns drawn and moving slowly towards Mezian and his fallen brother. She spoke as she inched closer to Mezian.

You Alright there love? Are you hurt? Do I need to call an ambulance? Or maybe a coroner van?

Mezian said nothing as she creped closer to him. Draziol began to glow with a bright light. Abigail and her men turned away. The explosion that soon followed knocked them off of their feet. Abigail stunned tried to get back to her feet. She was met with an outstretched hand...It was Mezian.

We don't die your normal way. You cant bury us, and you cant take us to a hospital. And we would blow apart a coroner van. When we die all that is left is our weapon, our memories, and a little crystal to let someone we know we existed. It's sad really, we live for ages and all that is left when we die are little rocks that are filled with what is left of our energy. That is why I won't die, I won't be reduced to a shiny rock for someone to add to their collection.

So what do you do with them all?

Mezian picked up his sword and the sword of Draziol. He hid them and turned back to Abigail to answer her question.

I collect them, every Celestial I have killed I have kept their crystal. It was a reminder of what I used to be. Now, its a reminder of what I have to be. I have hundreds if not thousands of them. Each one a unique person, each one a brother or sister. I remember all of their names. I remember all of the ways I have killed them and why.

Mezian took a moment to look at the puddles of rain and blood left by Draziol.

I have to take care of something. I will meet you back at your house.

To Be Continued


Chris, My dude, You say that me calling an egoist is a cliche. Then spout off about how you're the best at what you do. About how you have won eleven in a row. I don't get it if you don't want people to think that you have an ego why make it so, so, so, evident that you do. You should come up with a new gimmick bub, CM Punk already did that one, He actually is that good. Also, you are correct in your statement that English isn't my first language. In fact, it's my seventh language. But in all of that babble that you said you seem to missed something. The fact that everyone has said that they will" beat me within an inch of my life" yet no one has even come close.
This idea that you can actually do enough damage to threaten my existence is laughable at best, and downright sad at its worse. You see Chris when you are old and can't remember where you put your Viagra so you can beat off to the good ole days. I will still be fighting half-witted megalomaniacs like yourself. Hell maybe if you ever have a kid with some bimbo you knocked up while on tour I can kick his ass too.

You said that all the things you have accomplished you have done yourself. Which is admirable. But, at the same time, I have to wonder if that is your weakness. You are human you have flaws and fallacies. Humans are greedy and self-absorbed, you have to realize that when you fail, and you WILL FAIL, that is on you too. So while you and I are inside that ring I want you to know that every punch I throw, it's your fault. Every kick upside your stupid fucking head, your fault. And when you catch a knee to the face and they count to three it's your fault. You will walk out of this with no title and no dignity. While you are walking out of that arena check into getting money for your eyesight and Mental acuity because you have to be blind and to think you are going to win this.

YOUR END IS NIGH...]]> <![CDATA[The five stages]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31477 Sat, 26 May 2018 17:45:34 -0700 Pestalance]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31477 Alright, so this next stage kinda sucks from a personal perspective. Bargaining isn’t really my thing, ya know. I’ve never been the type to ask anyone for anything. From a young age I was always taught that when someone loans you something or does you a favor, you are in debt to them until they release you from it.

But desperation has a funny way of changing your mindset, and I was willing to do anything at that point to remedy the situation I was in. At that point, it didn’t matter what the cost was; I willing to pay the price.

As so there I was, basically groveling at the feet of the only man I thought could influence some change in my life.

“Little Tokyo” East Village, NYC, New York
Friday, May 18, 2018
6:37pm Eastern Standard Time

We find ourselves back in the office of the man we know as Pest’s God-Father. He sits behind his large oak desk, leaned back in his chair, eyes closed. Gagaku softly plays in the background which causes the man to hum along with the tune. After a moment a knock on the door interrupts the tranquil moment causing the man to slowly open his eyes. Subtitles help us follow the conversation.

Enter!

The door slowly open and Pest slowly walks into the room. Once Pest enters the room, he stops and immediately bows a full 90 degrees. In Japanese culture this would be considered a bow of shame or humbling.

Good evening God-father.

The man behind the desk is slightly taken aback by this.

Why do you bow in such a manner, my son?

Pest continues to bow as he responds.

God-father, I want to apologize for my actions as of late. I should have never been disrespectful to my uncle Yoshihiro or to you. I love the culture of your country and I will never disrespect it again.

The man lets out a slight chuckle.

Is this regarding the subtitles? We have moved past that. Rise and have a seat.

Thank you God-father.

Pest stands straight up before making his way to a chair in front of the desk.

Shiro told me you came here earlier in the week to see me, unfortunately I was away. He has however told me the purpose of your visit. I have to say that I am unhappy with the knowledge that you intend to leave XWF. I have never known you to be a quitter.

It’s not that I want to quit. But the company does not have my best interest in mind. Everything that they have told me is a lie. They have no intentions of making me a star. They are making me a joke. They are using me for other purposes.

The man raises an eyebrow.

Other purposes? I don’t understand what you mean by this.

There has been a lot of questioning from outside of the company regarding their stance on black social issues. Mostly because of recent events that have happened and certain people employed by the company. It would seem that I got hired in order to quail those thoughts. It would explain why they have me involved with so much media that typically requires the top talent in the company. At first I thought it was because I am a valued member of the roster. A future star as they have put it. However, it appears that I’m just a trophy. I won’t be their trophy, God-father. I need you to use your leverage to force them to either utilize me the way I deserve to be used or get me out of this company.

The man leans forward placing his elbows on the desk.

Son…that simply cannot be done.

Pest’s eyes go wide upon hearing this.

What…but…why?

We don’t take short cuts in this family. So using my “leverage” for you to get ahead in this journey of yours is against everything that we stand for. You get ahead based on your own merit. And as far as getting you out of the company…impossible. You signed a contract, did you not?

Yes.

Then you must honor the contract. Your biological father was many things, but the biggest thing he was, was a man of his word. I also am a many of my word, and by proxy, so are you.

Well the contract says that if I break it, I have to pay a penalty. If I pay that penalty I’ll still be keeping my word. It doesn’t matter how much it costs, I’ll pay it. Money is no problem for me.

The man chuckles as he leans back in his chair.

Son, these people will take everything you have worked hard for. Your club, your home, everything. Don’t be foolish. You will do as I say and honor the contract. We will speak no more of this.

But God-fat…

The man raises his hand in the air cutting Pest off.

This conversation is over. Now come…we have diner plans.

As much as I hate to admit it he was right. The next day I had a meeting with my lawyer regarding breaking the contract and the penalty I would have had to pay would have forced me to sell my club and probably my house too.

I know I said I was willing to do anything, but I had worked too hard for that club and my house. Hell the house alone is probably the most sentimentally valuable thing I have and I’m not willing to give that up.

So there I was…stuck in a situation that I had no way to get out of. XWF had me right where they wanted me and I had no choice but to smile and take it.

Problem is, in the next stage…It’s pretty fuckin hard to smile.]]> Alright, so this next stage kinda sucks from a personal perspective. Bargaining isn’t really my thing, ya know. I’ve never been the type to ask anyone for anything. From a young age I was always taught that when someone loans you something or does you a favor, you are in debt to them until they release you from it.

But desperation has a funny way of changing your mindset, and I was willing to do anything at that point to remedy the situation I was in. At that point, it didn’t matter what the cost was; I willing to pay the price.

As so there I was, basically groveling at the feet of the only man I thought could influence some change in my life.

“Little Tokyo” East Village, NYC, New York
Friday, May 18, 2018
6:37pm Eastern Standard Time

We find ourselves back in the office of the man we know as Pest’s God-Father. He sits behind his large oak desk, leaned back in his chair, eyes closed. Gagaku softly plays in the background which causes the man to hum along with the tune. After a moment a knock on the door interrupts the tranquil moment causing the man to slowly open his eyes. Subtitles help us follow the conversation.

Enter!

The door slowly open and Pest slowly walks into the room. Once Pest enters the room, he stops and immediately bows a full 90 degrees. In Japanese culture this would be considered a bow of shame or humbling.

Good evening God-father.

The man behind the desk is slightly taken aback by this.

Why do you bow in such a manner, my son?

Pest continues to bow as he responds.

God-father, I want to apologize for my actions as of late. I should have never been disrespectful to my uncle Yoshihiro or to you. I love the culture of your country and I will never disrespect it again.

The man lets out a slight chuckle.

Is this regarding the subtitles? We have moved past that. Rise and have a seat.

Thank you God-father.

Pest stands straight up before making his way to a chair in front of the desk.

Shiro told me you came here earlier in the week to see me, unfortunately I was away. He has however told me the purpose of your visit. I have to say that I am unhappy with the knowledge that you intend to leave XWF. I have never known you to be a quitter.

It’s not that I want to quit. But the company does not have my best interest in mind. Everything that they have told me is a lie. They have no intentions of making me a star. They are making me a joke. They are using me for other purposes.

The man raises an eyebrow.

Other purposes? I don’t understand what you mean by this.

There has been a lot of questioning from outside of the company regarding their stance on black social issues. Mostly because of recent events that have happened and certain people employed by the company. It would seem that I got hired in order to quail those thoughts. It would explain why they have me involved with so much media that typically requires the top talent in the company. At first I thought it was because I am a valued member of the roster. A future star as they have put it. However, it appears that I’m just a trophy. I won’t be their trophy, God-father. I need you to use your leverage to force them to either utilize me the way I deserve to be used or get me out of this company.

The man leans forward placing his elbows on the desk.

Son…that simply cannot be done.

Pest’s eyes go wide upon hearing this.

What…but…why?

We don’t take short cuts in this family. So using my “leverage” for you to get ahead in this journey of yours is against everything that we stand for. You get ahead based on your own merit. And as far as getting you out of the company…impossible. You signed a contract, did you not?

Yes.

Then you must honor the contract. Your biological father was many things, but the biggest thing he was, was a man of his word. I also am a many of my word, and by proxy, so are you.

Well the contract says that if I break it, I have to pay a penalty. If I pay that penalty I’ll still be keeping my word. It doesn’t matter how much it costs, I’ll pay it. Money is no problem for me.

The man chuckles as he leans back in his chair.

Son, these people will take everything you have worked hard for. Your club, your home, everything. Don’t be foolish. You will do as I say and honor the contract. We will speak no more of this.

But God-fat…

The man raises his hand in the air cutting Pest off.

This conversation is over. Now come…we have diner plans.

As much as I hate to admit it he was right. The next day I had a meeting with my lawyer regarding breaking the contract and the penalty I would have had to pay would have forced me to sell my club and probably my house too.

I know I said I was willing to do anything, but I had worked too hard for that club and my house. Hell the house alone is probably the most sentimentally valuable thing I have and I’m not willing to give that up.

So there I was…stuck in a situation that I had no way to get out of. XWF had me right where they wanted me and I had no choice but to smile and take it.

Problem is, in the next stage…It’s pretty fuckin hard to smile.]]> <![CDATA[Bind me, tie me, chain me to a wall - I want to be a slave for you all! Just kidding!]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31472 Fri, 25 May 2018 23:55:15 -0700 Azrael Erebus]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31472


Static.


Then a blinding flash.


And finally... picture and sound.


"Greetings and salutations XWF!"


"It is I - Azrael Erebus, your friendly neighborhood spaceman!"


"Coming through your media devices, whatever those items may be, with a message just for your eyes and ears. Don't you feel special? Well, you should because tonight, I'm going to do something I've never done before... not ever... not even once, in the history of my career here in the XWF. That's both past and present, thus far. I'm going to educate you on my past here. Somewhat anyway. You all should know I'm never one to brag. Not unless I'm talking specifically about myself or the things I can do both in and outside the bedroom anyway. These trinkets you hold so dear and cherish with all your might though... not so much. They mean nothing to me. They're bits of gold and leather. Nothing more or less. The true accomplishment that I enjoy is taking them away from the people... the humans, that hold them in such incredible value. I can only describe that feeling is being pretty damn ecstatic. The memory of the losing party after they've lost, well that's just priceless. Totally worth the bullshit that I went through in order to achieve the victory. And sometimes, something that I look back on and laugh about, to this very day. "


"I won't name, names because the intended party, isn't relevant anymore but if I did and I tossed on the fact that I achieved this victory with only one arm and being no taller than 5'9". You might be prone to a chuckle as well. However, that's pointless, really. For this message to you all isn't about that. No. Tonight is merely about enlightenment. Then I'll address Mandi Rider. Whom I'll be facing in two days. How exciting. I know. I can't wait for this to happen."


"I'm sure Vinnie Lane is practically salivating at the prospect of seeing what lies beneath the spaceman's clothes. This is the second time that he's stepped out of his way to have it done too. So I might as well be a good sport. He's all hot and bothered about it. Might as well throw the dog a bone, so to speak. Ironically because he does resemble a dog. I assume that's due to the fact that his prostitute mother conceived him with a Cocker Spaniel. I'm sure it was a beautiful moment too. Like Lady and the Tramp, except with a human female and a dog. I suppose that version would be called Whore and the Mutt. Ah... all in good fun, chap. All in good fun. Or not. Who's to say? It's really irrelevant by this point. Vinnie will just call me genderless. Then I'll point out the fact that the shape of his head isn't quite right. Seriously. That's not the shape of a human skull. Just look at that banner that's plastered everywhere of him and his hooker. Weird. His mother and his... girlfriend? Wife? Cock holster? I don't really know or care, what her title is to him but she's something that doesn't mind straddling that grotesque, mannequin looking freakshow. Anyway, his mother and that woman that he bangs, are both street walkers. Women of the night. I wonder if they have the bestiality factor in common? Curious."


"Anyway, enough with all that. Time for the illumination portion. Pay attention cause I'm only going to mention this once. Just for all of you out there too lazy to do the research. Here goes."


Azrael takes in an over emphasized deep breath and exhales loudly.


"I'm a..."


"Former 2x Universal Champ, 2x X-Treme Champ, 1x Television Champ... which was my longest title reign, lasting a whopping, 9 months 22 days, 2x Tag Team Champ, 3x Trio Champ, 2x United States Champ... that title was retired by me, so I was also the last US Champ and I've held the Heavy Metal Weight title. Who hasn't held the HMW title though? I am one of the few beings within this company to be a triple champion. US Champ, TV Champ and HMW Champ, all occurring at once, simultaneously. Oh and I've been declared Star Of The Month twice."


Azrael gasps and takes in a heavy breath as he holds up a single finger, while he composes himself. It takes a couple of moments but soon enough, the spaceman has accomplished the task and smirks directly at the camera. And really, at all of you.


"Now I'm in line for the Bombshell title."


"You know what though?"


"It's just another trinket to me. Bits of leather and gold. Nothing more. Sure, some of you might snicker and giggle... like little school girls, tee-heeing at the concept of me wielding that title but rest assured, as it has been and always will be, it really doesn't matter what you think. Truth. I have lived too long for that and have experienced things, beyond your wildest imagination. I'll still be here when you're nothing more than worm food. Do you really think a few words proclaimed by you will effect me? Ridiculous humans. I surpass you in every way possible, even when I lose in the ring. This whole match is just as much of a lark to me as it is to you."


"I will proudly claim that Bombshell title. I'll hold it up high and I'll do it with a full on erection. Because I don't wear underwear. That's right. You're all interested in what goes on under these trousers. On the 27th... I promise you, you will get an eyeful that you won't ever forget. Trust me. My cock is that fucking glorious and memorable. That's not bragging either. That's fact. I have never received a complaint and have never been turned down. Be it man, woman, beings that seem like both and others that seem like neither. Not once have I been rejected. Eh... of course, with the exception of Kendall Sawyer... but I suppose, everyone has to have one white whale. So there you have it. Should I be stripped of my clothes and Mandi Rider be declared the winner. You're all going to see a very naked spaceman. Should I win, well I'm simply going to drop my trousers and end the debate. Once and for all. So be prepared for that XWF. You will definitely behold space cock, one way or another."


"Okay then, now that all of that is settled. I'll move on to addressing Mandi Lane. Mandi. May I say it is extraordinary to see you again. True... we were never close, but seeing you as a bright shining star here in the XWF is a delight. You were always fierce and formidable in the ring. A deserving champion."


"Now, if I remember correctly. Back when I knew you... you were a siren. Having troubles with control. You even sought out my aid. To which I gladly gave because I never turn down someone seeking help. Just ask Ghost Tank. I made him fight a bear. I'm not sure how that helped him but deep, down within the very cockles of my heart, I know it did. He's the man he is today because of that one gleaming, instant that he fought a bear. Anyhow, the point is that I remember you from my past career and our brief personal history outside of the ring. Not sure what's been going on with you these days but I do hope that my services were helpful. If you claim to be a siren anymore or if something happened to change that, it's all foreign news to me. All I have is the past. Ancient history really. That's the information that I'm working with because I've been a tad busy, aiding Nathaniel Adolph Zachary Idenhaus, with a small issue that he was stricken with. Proud to say that problem was snuffed out. Before it turned into a full blown epidemic and the XWF became nothing more than a federation of werewolves."


"All besides the point. Nothing more than excuses. Words to be taken as you like. With that being the case, I must admit, in all honesty, this fight is a treat for me. I respect you as a fighter and I look forward to what this battle brings. Although, now that I disclosed that I go commando, I'm certain you don't feel the same. Rest assured. When I address my anticipation for combat, it is only in the sense of that. The actual fight that will be had and getting the opportunity to face someone as extremely versed in wrestling as you are, and have proven to be, time and time again. Well, it's an honor."


"I have no ill words for you. No trash talk. Just the statement that I will bring everything that I have to this fight. I won't hold back and I hope you will pay me the respect of doing the same. You are remarkable and proof that while this planet has proven to be a great ball of idiots and dullards, there are still sparks of greatness. Beings like you are why I stick around. It's absolutely worth it to wade through a million pieces of trash, just to encounter merely one extraordinary lifeform. However, I am fortunate to have come in contact, with hundreds. My prize for living as long as I have. Those hidden gems, stored away within the vast population of dum dums. It's what makes this planet and it's people worth my time and effort. I say this now because I want you to know that my words are never given lightly. Especially when delivered to another warrior."


"Enough chatter though. I've said all that I need to, the rest will be declared in combat."


"Ordinarily... Mandi, I would gloat and say that I'll see you at your loss. Instead, I shall leave you, with this. See you in the wrestling ring shaped, battle field, Mandi Rider."


"End Transmission!"]]>


Static.


Then a blinding flash.


And finally... picture and sound.


"Greetings and salutations XWF!"


"It is I - Azrael Erebus, your friendly neighborhood spaceman!"


"Coming through your media devices, whatever those items may be, with a message just for your eyes and ears. Don't you feel special? Well, you should because tonight, I'm going to do something I've never done before... not ever... not even once, in the history of my career here in the XWF. That's both past and present, thus far. I'm going to educate you on my past here. Somewhat anyway. You all should know I'm never one to brag. Not unless I'm talking specifically about myself or the things I can do both in and outside the bedroom anyway. These trinkets you hold so dear and cherish with all your might though... not so much. They mean nothing to me. They're bits of gold and leather. Nothing more or less. The true accomplishment that I enjoy is taking them away from the people... the humans, that hold them in such incredible value. I can only describe that feeling is being pretty damn ecstatic. The memory of the losing party after they've lost, well that's just priceless. Totally worth the bullshit that I went through in order to achieve the victory. And sometimes, something that I look back on and laugh about, to this very day. "


"I won't name, names because the intended party, isn't relevant anymore but if I did and I tossed on the fact that I achieved this victory with only one arm and being no taller than 5'9". You might be prone to a chuckle as well. However, that's pointless, really. For this message to you all isn't about that. No. Tonight is merely about enlightenment. Then I'll address Mandi Rider. Whom I'll be facing in two days. How exciting. I know. I can't wait for this to happen."


"I'm sure Vinnie Lane is practically salivating at the prospect of seeing what lies beneath the spaceman's clothes. This is the second time that he's stepped out of his way to have it done too. So I might as well be a good sport. He's all hot and bothered about it. Might as well throw the dog a bone, so to speak. Ironically because he does resemble a dog. I assume that's due to the fact that his prostitute mother conceived him with a Cocker Spaniel. I'm sure it was a beautiful moment too. Like Lady and the Tramp, except with a human female and a dog. I suppose that version would be called Whore and the Mutt. Ah... all in good fun, chap. All in good fun. Or not. Who's to say? It's really irrelevant by this point. Vinnie will just call me genderless. Then I'll point out the fact that the shape of his head isn't quite right. Seriously. That's not the shape of a human skull. Just look at that banner that's plastered everywhere of him and his hooker. Weird. His mother and his... girlfriend? Wife? Cock holster? I don't really know or care, what her title is to him but she's something that doesn't mind straddling that grotesque, mannequin looking freakshow. Anyway, his mother and that woman that he bangs, are both street walkers. Women of the night. I wonder if they have the bestiality factor in common? Curious."


"Anyway, enough with all that. Time for the illumination portion. Pay attention cause I'm only going to mention this once. Just for all of you out there too lazy to do the research. Here goes."


Azrael takes in an over emphasized deep breath and exhales loudly.


"I'm a..."


"Former 2x Universal Champ, 2x X-Treme Champ, 1x Television Champ... which was my longest title reign, lasting a whopping, 9 months 22 days, 2x Tag Team Champ, 3x Trio Champ, 2x United States Champ... that title was retired by me, so I was also the last US Champ and I've held the Heavy Metal Weight title. Who hasn't held the HMW title though? I am one of the few beings within this company to be a triple champion. US Champ, TV Champ and HMW Champ, all occurring at once, simultaneously. Oh and I've been declared Star Of The Month twice."


Azrael gasps and takes in a heavy breath as he holds up a single finger, while he composes himself. It takes a couple of moments but soon enough, the spaceman has accomplished the task and smirks directly at the camera. And really, at all of you.


"Now I'm in line for the Bombshell title."


"You know what though?"


"It's just another trinket to me. Bits of leather and gold. Nothing more. Sure, some of you might snicker and giggle... like little school girls, tee-heeing at the concept of me wielding that title but rest assured, as it has been and always will be, it really doesn't matter what you think. Truth. I have lived too long for that and have experienced things, beyond your wildest imagination. I'll still be here when you're nothing more than worm food. Do you really think a few words proclaimed by you will effect me? Ridiculous humans. I surpass you in every way possible, even when I lose in the ring. This whole match is just as much of a lark to me as it is to you."


"I will proudly claim that Bombshell title. I'll hold it up high and I'll do it with a full on erection. Because I don't wear underwear. That's right. You're all interested in what goes on under these trousers. On the 27th... I promise you, you will get an eyeful that you won't ever forget. Trust me. My cock is that fucking glorious and memorable. That's not bragging either. That's fact. I have never received a complaint and have never been turned down. Be it man, woman, beings that seem like both and others that seem like neither. Not once have I been rejected. Eh... of course, with the exception of Kendall Sawyer... but I suppose, everyone has to have one white whale. So there you have it. Should I be stripped of my clothes and Mandi Rider be declared the winner. You're all going to see a very naked spaceman. Should I win, well I'm simply going to drop my trousers and end the debate. Once and for all. So be prepared for that XWF. You will definitely behold space cock, one way or another."


"Okay then, now that all of that is settled. I'll move on to addressing Mandi Lane. Mandi. May I say it is extraordinary to see you again. True... we were never close, but seeing you as a bright shining star here in the XWF is a delight. You were always fierce and formidable in the ring. A deserving champion."


"Now, if I remember correctly. Back when I knew you... you were a siren. Having troubles with control. You even sought out my aid. To which I gladly gave because I never turn down someone seeking help. Just ask Ghost Tank. I made him fight a bear. I'm not sure how that helped him but deep, down within the very cockles of my heart, I know it did. He's the man he is today because of that one gleaming, instant that he fought a bear. Anyhow, the point is that I remember you from my past career and our brief personal history outside of the ring. Not sure what's been going on with you these days but I do hope that my services were helpful. If you claim to be a siren anymore or if something happened to change that, it's all foreign news to me. All I have is the past. Ancient history really. That's the information that I'm working with because I've been a tad busy, aiding Nathaniel Adolph Zachary Idenhaus, with a small issue that he was stricken with. Proud to say that problem was snuffed out. Before it turned into a full blown epidemic and the XWF became nothing more than a federation of werewolves."


"All besides the point. Nothing more than excuses. Words to be taken as you like. With that being the case, I must admit, in all honesty, this fight is a treat for me. I respect you as a fighter and I look forward to what this battle brings. Although, now that I disclosed that I go commando, I'm certain you don't feel the same. Rest assured. When I address my anticipation for combat, it is only in the sense of that. The actual fight that will be had and getting the opportunity to face someone as extremely versed in wrestling as you are, and have proven to be, time and time again. Well, it's an honor."


"I have no ill words for you. No trash talk. Just the statement that I will bring everything that I have to this fight. I won't hold back and I hope you will pay me the respect of doing the same. You are remarkable and proof that while this planet has proven to be a great ball of idiots and dullards, there are still sparks of greatness. Beings like you are why I stick around. It's absolutely worth it to wade through a million pieces of trash, just to encounter merely one extraordinary lifeform. However, I am fortunate to have come in contact, with hundreds. My prize for living as long as I have. Those hidden gems, stored away within the vast population of dum dums. It's what makes this planet and it's people worth my time and effort. I say this now because I want you to know that my words are never given lightly. Especially when delivered to another warrior."


"Enough chatter though. I've said all that I need to, the rest will be declared in combat."


"Ordinarily... Mandi, I would gloat and say that I'll see you at your loss. Instead, I shall leave you, with this. See you in the wrestling ring shaped, battle field, Mandi Rider."


"End Transmission!"]]> <![CDATA[Winner Winner Chicken Dinner - Savages!]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31459 Fri, 25 May 2018 14:37:31 -0700 Scully]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31459


It's alright now
We're alright now
Yeah we're fighters
You and me
Soul survivor
Start a fight like lovers can
Don't surrender to the man
We're alright now
We're alright now
They can't take us
They'll never break us


Monday 21st May
United Airlanes
In the Sky somewhere

Scully, Natalie and little Aston were already on the United Airlines plane which they boarded at Miami International airport at precisely 2.10pm. They had to stop at San Francisco International airport briefly for about an hour. Here they were able to stretch their legs a little and wonder around the airport shops. They then boarded again and were now in the air for the longer side of the flight. Both Natalie and Aston were asleep as were most of the other passengers. Scully however, had other plans. He had already had a little bit of a nap but was struggling to sleep. Skull puts his headphones on and then proceeds to play a video on the iPad.

*OOC - These results were not the actual results and were just made up by me.



Saturday Night Savage - Scullys Highlights
MAIN EVENT
Random Partners X-treme Survival Gold Rush** (Survivor Series)
Scully
Pestalance
N.A.Z.I.
Hate Nation John Ron Cena
- vs -
Jeremiah "Impact Dixon"
Jackie Peppers
The Aurora Effect
Vangis Greaves


Pestalance and Greaves are going at it, a back and fourth in the centre of the ring. Greaves charges at Pest, shoulder tackling him back into the turnbuckle of Pests own corner. Scully taps Pest on the shoulder, tagging himself in but Pest doesn't realise. Skull waits for an opportunity as Pestalance throws Greaves off him who flies across the ring, and lands on his back. Greaves slowly gets up...

"Holla at cha later Bitch!" nailed by Pest. He goes for the cover but he's not the legal man....

Pests stands up and looks at the ref...

Richard Wang shakes his head...

SCULLANATOR!

Skull just nailed his own teammate with his finisher. Skull then pins Greaves.....

1.....




2....



Kickout!

Scully may regret attacking his partner...


Aurora just hit Scully with a Pop-up powerslam. Aurora doesn't go for the cover though and has something else in mind. He is waiting for his opponent to get to his feet. He has something lined up. Skull gets to his knees and Aurora runs at him, drop toe hold.

Skull Lock locked in on The Aurora Effect. Skull drags Aurora to the centre, he has no where to go. Will he tap?

Scully shouts.. "Tap Bitch! TAP!"

Aurora shakes his head, refusing to give up. Skull twists and twists...

"Tap Princess!"

Aurora is in agony, he raises his arm, his hand may hit the mat... Until Jackie Peppar interferes by hitting Skull in the back of the head and saving his partner. Why? I guess the more teammates, the more chance of winning. Remember.. The winners get a title shot?


Scully swings for Jeremiah Dixon but Dixon ducks. Skulls turns straight into the Impact Driver. Dixon just hit his finisher on Scully. He goes for the cover...

Wang counts...

1...



2...


Foot on the rope. Wang noticed it straight away. A veteran move by Scully to avoid being eliminated.


Jackie manipulates his throat with his hand for a brief second, causing him to regurgitate some of the massive amount of cayenne pepper sauce he ingested prior to the match, which he then spews as a mist into the eyes of Scully.

Pepper Spray!

Scully is holding his eyes, he is currently blind, he's all over the place. Jackie with a simple roll-up pin to blinded Scully.

Wang gets down for the count

1.....









2.....





Wang holds his wrist..

That was the slowest count EVER!

Wang holds his wrist in the corner and Scully kicks out. Jackie is livid, he approaches Wang and argues with him.

Scully with a low blow to Jackie...

SCULLANATOR!

He goes for the pin, suddenly Wangs wrist is fine and he goes down for a FAST COUNT!

1.....

2....

3....


That was faster than Mike Tysons count for Austin over HBK at Wrestlemania


Skull with clothesline to Dixon who flies over the ropes. Every one is down apart from Scully and.....

Pestalance...

Skull turns around and Pest is towering above him. Skull gulps, looking left and right, not knowing which way to go. Pest doesn't look happy and He certainly didn't forget the earlier incident. He is about to pay until Cena & N.A.Z.I suddenly step between them, breaking it up. Cena & N.A.Z.I hold Pest back. The opposition are now in and a brawl has broken out. Greaves and N.A.Z.I are exchanging blows, Cena and Dixon are brawling. Pest just headbutted Scully and now Aurora just nailed Pestalance with a chair. Wang has lost control of this match.


Cena has approached the referee, Richard Wang, he's whispering something in his ear. Wang smiles but then Dixon walks up to Wang too. Wang suddenly superkicks Dixon in the chin before he could get there, knocking him out. Cena smiles at Wang as Wang grins too.

Looks like Wang is on Team Cena.... Pretty much all the participant's in this match were trying to bribe the referee, Richard Wang before the contest.

Karate chop to the throat to... N.A.Z.I. N.A.Z.I had just entered the ring and he is now choking on the mat. His veins are rushing to his head and he is choking violently, maybe that's how the jews felt when his hero tortured them?

Cena shrugs. Greaves is now in and he receives a remarkable bicycle kick right to the top of the head from Wang. The athleticism then. Greaves is definetely seeing stars, he rolls to outside.

The fans begin chanting...

"WANG! WANG! WANG! WANG!"

Wang has gone crazy... Cena seems to be the only one who is safe right now.

Pestalance enters now and Wang without hesitation delivers a high flying, spin kick to Pests cheek. How did he jump that high? Pest is flat out.

Hey.. Jackie Peppers is back in, he was eliminated but he has business to sort with Wang. Wang fast counted Jackie out of the match. Jackie grabs hold of Wang referee shirt, pointing at him in anger. Cena with a low blow to Jackie.. Cena lifts Peppers up...

AA. Cena saved Wang and dusts off Wangs shoulders.

Aurora is in now and he looks pissed off at Wangs antics. Scully is back in and he nails Aurora from behind in the back of the head with a briefcase. Blood pours from the back of Kens head as he lays face down on the canvas. Only Wang, Cena and Scully are standing. Skull passes Wang the briefcase, he opens it to reveal.... A whole lot of dollars. Wangs eyes light up. He closes the briefcase back up and nods at Scully with a grin. He smiles at Cena too only to nail him with the Briefcase right to the forehead. Scully laughs at Cena who is hurt. Wang is now Team Scully? Well it would seem that way.

WHACK

He just nailed Scully with the God damn briefcase... Skull flops on the ropes, obviously dizzy. He turns around... Crane Kick by Wang. Skull is asleep. Wang leaves the ring with the dented briefcase in hand and the match has been abandoned.



Scully shakes his head at the footage he had just watched. Money lost and no guaranteed title shot. Richard Wang practically stole Scully's money. Skull takes a deep breath and decides to go back to sleep after that reminder...


Arrival
Sydney Airport
10.02am

Scully, Natalie and Aston had arrived at Sydney Airport. They had already exited the plane and proceeded to get there luggage. Skull wheeled two suitcases and Natalie carried Astons trunkie. The airport was fairly steady as passengers and staff walked in different directions around the airport. Aston was a good little boy and he stayed close to his mummy and daddy. They walked afar as they went on escalators and through corridors. There he was waiting for them, smiling in anticipation. Jimi Reynolds was looking forward to seeing his nephew and meet his family at last. Skull notices Jimboy he quickly walks over and gives Scully a great big cuddle. He hugs Natalie, kissing her on the cheek and then looks down at Aston...

"Hello little man."

Aston smiles nervously.

"Say Hello to your uncle Jim, Aston."

"Hello..."

Jimi smiles and Aston runs up to hug his leg. Jim takes the Trunkie off Natalie.

"Its so good to see ya's. Its been too long. So how was the flight?"

"It was alright, wernt too bad."

"It was a bit uncomfortable."

"You wouldn't think so considering how you slept like a baby..."

Skull, Jim and Nat laugh briefly at that comment. They begin walking towards the exit doors.

"So where's Tee-Jay?"

"At his mum's at the mo. Gotta pick him up later. He can't wait to see you guys."

They follow Jimi to see where's he parked. However, a large black limo is waiting and Jimi reveals it's for them.

"So here's our ride... "

Aston was certainly excited.

"Cool...."

The door was open as Aston enters. The limo driver puts the bags in the boot and the rest of them enter the limo.

"Sweet.."

"You didn't have to Jim..."

"I know you've ridden in them a few times before but glad you're happy."

"Thank you, Jim."

Jimi pulls out a bottle of champagne and three glasses. He gets a little glass for Aston...

"Orange squash for you little man."

The limo driver gets in and starts the vehicle. Off they go.....]]>


It's alright now
We're alright now
Yeah we're fighters
You and me
Soul survivor
Start a fight like lovers can
Don't surrender to the man
We're alright now
We're alright now
They can't take us
They'll never break us


Monday 21st May
United Airlanes
In the Sky somewhere

Scully, Natalie and little Aston were already on the United Airlines plane which they boarded at Miami International airport at precisely 2.10pm. They had to stop at San Francisco International airport briefly for about an hour. Here they were able to stretch their legs a little and wonder around the airport shops. They then boarded again and were now in the air for the longer side of the flight. Both Natalie and Aston were asleep as were most of the other passengers. Scully however, had other plans. He had already had a little bit of a nap but was struggling to sleep. Skull puts his headphones on and then proceeds to play a video on the iPad.

*OOC - These results were not the actual results and were just made up by me.



Saturday Night Savage - Scullys Highlights
MAIN EVENT
Random Partners X-treme Survival Gold Rush** (Survivor Series)
Scully
Pestalance
N.A.Z.I.
Hate Nation John Ron Cena
- vs -
Jeremiah "Impact Dixon"
Jackie Peppers
The Aurora Effect
Vangis Greaves


Pestalance and Greaves are going at it, a back and fourth in the centre of the ring. Greaves charges at Pest, shoulder tackling him back into the turnbuckle of Pests own corner. Scully taps Pest on the shoulder, tagging himself in but Pest doesn't realise. Skull waits for an opportunity as Pestalance throws Greaves off him who flies across the ring, and lands on his back. Greaves slowly gets up...

"Holla at cha later Bitch!" nailed by Pest. He goes for the cover but he's not the legal man....

Pests stands up and looks at the ref...

Richard Wang shakes his head...

SCULLANATOR!

Skull just nailed his own teammate with his finisher. Skull then pins Greaves.....

1.....




2....



Kickout!

Scully may regret attacking his partner...


Aurora just hit Scully with a Pop-up powerslam. Aurora doesn't go for the cover though and has something else in mind. He is waiting for his opponent to get to his feet. He has something lined up. Skull gets to his knees and Aurora runs at him, drop toe hold.

Skull Lock locked in on The Aurora Effect. Skull drags Aurora to the centre, he has no where to go. Will he tap?

Scully shouts.. "Tap Bitch! TAP!"

Aurora shakes his head, refusing to give up. Skull twists and twists...

"Tap Princess!"

Aurora is in agony, he raises his arm, his hand may hit the mat... Until Jackie Peppar interferes by hitting Skull in the back of the head and saving his partner. Why? I guess the more teammates, the more chance of winning. Remember.. The winners get a title shot?


Scully swings for Jeremiah Dixon but Dixon ducks. Skulls turns straight into the Impact Driver. Dixon just hit his finisher on Scully. He goes for the cover...

Wang counts...

1...



2...


Foot on the rope. Wang noticed it straight away. A veteran move by Scully to avoid being eliminated.


Jackie manipulates his throat with his hand for a brief second, causing him to regurgitate some of the massive amount of cayenne pepper sauce he ingested prior to the match, which he then spews as a mist into the eyes of Scully.

Pepper Spray!

Scully is holding his eyes, he is currently blind, he's all over the place. Jackie with a simple roll-up pin to blinded Scully.

Wang gets down for the count

1.....









2.....





Wang holds his wrist..

That was the slowest count EVER!

Wang holds his wrist in the corner and Scully kicks out. Jackie is livid, he approaches Wang and argues with him.

Scully with a low blow to Jackie...

SCULLANATOR!

He goes for the pin, suddenly Wangs wrist is fine and he goes down for a FAST COUNT!

1.....

2....

3....


That was faster than Mike Tysons count for Austin over HBK at Wrestlemania


Skull with clothesline to Dixon who flies over the ropes. Every one is down apart from Scully and.....

Pestalance...

Skull turns around and Pest is towering above him. Skull gulps, looking left and right, not knowing which way to go. Pest doesn't look happy and He certainly didn't forget the earlier incident. He is about to pay until Cena & N.A.Z.I suddenly step between them, breaking it up. Cena & N.A.Z.I hold Pest back. The opposition are now in and a brawl has broken out. Greaves and N.A.Z.I are exchanging blows, Cena and Dixon are brawling. Pest just headbutted Scully and now Aurora just nailed Pestalance with a chair. Wang has lost control of this match.


Cena has approached the referee, Richard Wang, he's whispering something in his ear. Wang smiles but then Dixon walks up to Wang too. Wang suddenly superkicks Dixon in the chin before he could get there, knocking him out. Cena smiles at Wang as Wang grins too.

Looks like Wang is on Team Cena.... Pretty much all the participant's in this match were trying to bribe the referee, Richard Wang before the contest.

Karate chop to the throat to... N.A.Z.I. N.A.Z.I had just entered the ring and he is now choking on the mat. His veins are rushing to his head and he is choking violently, maybe that's how the jews felt when his hero tortured them?

Cena shrugs. Greaves is now in and he receives a remarkable bicycle kick right to the top of the head from Wang. The athleticism then. Greaves is definetely seeing stars, he rolls to outside.

The fans begin chanting...

"WANG! WANG! WANG! WANG!"

Wang has gone crazy... Cena seems to be the only one who is safe right now.

Pestalance enters now and Wang without hesitation delivers a high flying, spin kick to Pests cheek. How did he jump that high? Pest is flat out.

Hey.. Jackie Peppers is back in, he was eliminated but he has business to sort with Wang. Wang fast counted Jackie out of the match. Jackie grabs hold of Wang referee shirt, pointing at him in anger. Cena with a low blow to Jackie.. Cena lifts Peppers up...

AA. Cena saved Wang and dusts off Wangs shoulders.

Aurora is in now and he looks pissed off at Wangs antics. Scully is back in and he nails Aurora from behind in the back of the head with a briefcase. Blood pours from the back of Kens head as he lays face down on the canvas. Only Wang, Cena and Scully are standing. Skull passes Wang the briefcase, he opens it to reveal.... A whole lot of dollars. Wangs eyes light up. He closes the briefcase back up and nods at Scully with a grin. He smiles at Cena too only to nail him with the Briefcase right to the forehead. Scully laughs at Cena who is hurt. Wang is now Team Scully? Well it would seem that way.

WHACK

He just nailed Scully with the God damn briefcase... Skull flops on the ropes, obviously dizzy. He turns around... Crane Kick by Wang. Skull is asleep. Wang leaves the ring with the dented briefcase in hand and the match has been abandoned.



Scully shakes his head at the footage he had just watched. Money lost and no guaranteed title shot. Richard Wang practically stole Scully's money. Skull takes a deep breath and decides to go back to sleep after that reminder...


Arrival
Sydney Airport
10.02am

Scully, Natalie and Aston had arrived at Sydney Airport. They had already exited the plane and proceeded to get there luggage. Skull wheeled two suitcases and Natalie carried Astons trunkie. The airport was fairly steady as passengers and staff walked in different directions around the airport. Aston was a good little boy and he stayed close to his mummy and daddy. They walked afar as they went on escalators and through corridors. There he was waiting for them, smiling in anticipation. Jimi Reynolds was looking forward to seeing his nephew and meet his family at last. Skull notices Jimboy he quickly walks over and gives Scully a great big cuddle. He hugs Natalie, kissing her on the cheek and then looks down at Aston...

"Hello little man."

Aston smiles nervously.

"Say Hello to your uncle Jim, Aston."

"Hello..."

Jimi smiles and Aston runs up to hug his leg. Jim takes the Trunkie off Natalie.

"Its so good to see ya's. Its been too long. So how was the flight?"

"It was alright, wernt too bad."

"It was a bit uncomfortable."

"You wouldn't think so considering how you slept like a baby..."

Skull, Jim and Nat laugh briefly at that comment. They begin walking towards the exit doors.

"So where's Tee-Jay?"

"At his mum's at the mo. Gotta pick him up later. He can't wait to see you guys."

They follow Jimi to see where's he parked. However, a large black limo is waiting and Jimi reveals it's for them.

"So here's our ride... "

Aston was certainly excited.

"Cool...."

The door was open as Aston enters. The limo driver puts the bags in the boot and the rest of them enter the limo.

"Sweet.."

"You didn't have to Jim..."

"I know you've ridden in them a few times before but glad you're happy."

"Thank you, Jim."

Jimi pulls out a bottle of champagne and three glasses. He gets a little glass for Aston...

"Orange squash for you little man."

The limo driver gets in and starts the vehicle. Off they go.....]]> <![CDATA[Walk It Like I Talk It]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31454 Fri, 25 May 2018 14:03:48 -0700 Chris Chaos]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31454



The vase hit the wall and shattered. That was a 300 dollar vase, and the water and dirt combination inside would surely stain the rug. It didn't matter, she was off her rocker. She was a lunatic. This was a side of her that nobody had ever seen, at least, nobody without a white jacket and an ID badge.

She looked like beetlejuice. Makeup running down her face in an array of black lines mixed with her white skin--you'd think someone from somewhere with nearly unlimited sunshine would be more tan? Her hair was a mess, matted yet sticking up as if she tried to rip chunks of it out. There were cuts on her face, like she had dug her nails into her skin, and a bruise from where, one could only assume, she bashed her head into a wall.

Her voice was raspy hiss when she tried to yell.

"I CAN'T FUCKING DO THIS ANYMORE! I CAN'T GO THROUGH THIS WITHOUT SUPPORT! YOU ONLY GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOURSELF!"

She was upset because she didn't want to sit home alone on a Friday night, but refused to go out to the bars. She wanted something, but didn't know what it was. How could someone possibly give it to her?

"I do support you", this tone was much calmer, "but it gets tough when you constantly change up your mind. Nothing is ever good enough. You say you want gold more than anything else, I give you gold, and you throw it at me and tell me you want platinum. I can't continue to deliver if I don't know what I am supposed to be delivering".

A rational thought, right? You'd think. There is no rationalizing with women, especially in this state.

"I MADE YOU!"

Yeah, sure.

"YOU ARE WHAT YOU ARE BECAUSE OF ME! I BROUGHT YOUR BROKEN DOWN ASS BACK UP AND YOU COULDN'T EVEN HELP ME KEEP THE ONE THING IN MY LIFE I HAD GOING FOR ME!"

This time, she flipped a table. More broken glass. Goddamnit.

"YOU STOOD BY AND LET IT HAPPEN! I WAS FOCUSED ON BRINGING YOU BACK FROM THE DEAD AND YOU DIDN'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING OR ANYONE BUT YOURSELF! YOU'RE BETTER OFF NOW, HUH?! YOU'RE MR. HIGH LIFE!"

She ripped open a cabinet drawer, producing a steak knife.

Holy shit.

Surely the neighbors could hear this. The sirens would be coming soon. She put the knife to her wrist.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the fuck is wrong with you?! You've lost your damn mind! Put the knife down, this isn't worth it!"

She pressed it down, drawing a small speckle of blood.

This had been going on for an hour.

"You're a self centered prick. You don't care. You never cared. I was just an object to you, I was just convenient!"

Sigh.

She wasn't wrong. His need for her was waning like the moon, and his patience and tolerance was already nearly gone. She was certified looney, and he always knew this, but he played into what she wanted because it was easier than listening to her. Sure, he loved her, but you can love someone without liking them.

Most people do.

The divorce rate in this country was over 50 percent. No wonder, with bitches acting like this all the time.

"Babe....that isn't true." It felt bad to lie, but it was easier.

"YES IT IS!"

"No....look, put the knife down. Come here, give me a hug."

She was taking her recent lack of success really hard. Her already deeply embedded trust issues and emotional baggage was as deep as the Grand Canyon. She was close to cracking.

He walked slowly over to her. He embraced her, and she dropped the knife. Sobbing into his chest, he knew her makeup was staining his shirt. He would have to change before he went out tonight.

Leaning in and whispering in her ear, his tone was still calm but a lot more firm now.

"I walk it like I talk it. I do what I want, when I want, how I want, when I want, and you are going to have to accept that."

She looked up at him with a mascara stained snot bubble. Her eyes were bordering on empty.

"You didn't make me. I let you think that so that you'd have a goal in life, a project, something to do. I love you, but I don't need you. Stop pushing my limits, and we can get along great. Keep it up, and I will show you exactly who Chris Chaos really is."

She looked back up at him, moving her face back from the pile of makeup and snot on his shirt which now looked like a muddy puddle, and whispered.

"I love you."

"I know."

Looking at his two titles hanging on his wall he grinned as she buried her head back into the embrace.

[Image: u8QzZj1.png]

"Mez, buddy, I am convinced that English is not your first language after all. Either that or your comprehension skills fire at a 3rd grade level. Did you listen to a word I said? You seem to think I am fueled by ego, but failed to remember that I was once at the lowest of low points. I was questioning myself in the mirror every day. I was at a point where I thought I couldn't do this anymore. Mez, I bettered myself. I rose up. The name of this Pay Per View is Second Chance, and that is exactly what this is for me. This is a chance to prove not just to the XWF Universe but to myself that I am as good as I claim to be. This is a second chance to earn my spot as a Top 50 superstar, and a second chance to beat you to within an inch of your pathetic life. This is my second chance to prove to the world that I am all those colorful things I call myself. I say these things because I believe these things, and a win here will just solidify them. I don't need to rely on hope like you do, I get to rely on being what I claim. Walking what I talk.

Mez, I find it amusing that you try to bring up past failures and rub them in my face like they still matter to me. What you failed to do is take the blinders off for two seconds and realize that there is always a converse to the reality. Reno....do I remember him? Of course, how could I forget that greasy face and those 1990's skate kid bangs?

He took my most prized posession from me, and in turn took my soul. He made me question myself, he took me from the top of the world and put me back down at the bottom all in one fell swoop. You brought that up but failed to acknowledge what happened after. Every single time we were in the ring after that I kicked his ass from here to Jupiter. I am the reason Gabe Reno is rotting away in some sub par company with no clout, no buzz, no heat and no name. I put Gabe Reno on the shelf, this time for good, but that little tidbit just slipped your mind didn't it Mez? You were so quick to rub my nose in it like a bad dog, you forgot to understand that I have gotten revenge on everyone who has wronged me. Even Jim Caedus, who I will admit I've never beaten in a match, is gone because of me. I have taken out LEGENDS Mez, you haven't even taken legends out to lunch. People who have more talent in their jockstrap than in your entire body are no longer living their dream because of me. Yet, you think I don't have a reason to be "arrogant"? Heh, buddy, resume's speak volumes. I am 51-21-2, and have won 11 consecutive matches. This one will be 12.

This title, despite what the critics and haters want to say about it, has a lot of clout. It has a lot of history, and I am adding another chapter. Big names have held this belt, and I am the biggest. Neville had quite the streak, I am going to shatter it. Cain was good but not as durable as he claimed, and Nixon succumbed to his lizard fetish. They all had their weaknesses, and I am going to be the rock solid competitor that this title needs to have represent it. What are you going to be Mez? The same old nothing you'e always been. You are going to continue to float around the abyss with no real direction while I continue to skyrocket to the top of this company. One brick at a time, I am building an empire.

So, sure, continue to use the same washed up cliche about me that every single opponent I face uses. Tell me I am too cocky, tell me I am not as good as I claim, tell me that the chaos has been quelled. It only throws gasoline on the fire. It only makes me want to hurt you more. I am beyond glad that you are treating this as a learning experiment, because you need some knowledge. You need to learn when your match is met. I know you don't enjoy beating up on new talent, but right now you can't hang with the top dogs. So, what other choice do you have? You can keep getting your ass whooped on loop, but I take it that isn't much fun either. So maybe this will be an opportunity to learn about yourself. An opportunity to learn who you really are, what you really are, and what you really can't accomplish. Maybe this will be the wake up call you need. You need to learn that there are levels to this shit, and the game isn't for everyone. Maybe this will be the wake up call you need to finally give me a little damn respect. You see I may not be the best at everything, but when I do it, I am the best at it. I just haven't done it all, yet. Get it? Got it. Good. At second chance I will show you that I am self made, self built, and self dominant. I will prove to you once and for all that I walk it just like I talk it. What you see is what you get.......that I am.......

The best in the world............

...........At what I do.

52-21-2
]]>



The vase hit the wall and shattered. That was a 300 dollar vase, and the water and dirt combination inside would surely stain the rug. It didn't matter, she was off her rocker. She was a lunatic. This was a side of her that nobody had ever seen, at least, nobody without a white jacket and an ID badge.

She looked like beetlejuice. Makeup running down her face in an array of black lines mixed with her white skin--you'd think someone from somewhere with nearly unlimited sunshine would be more tan? Her hair was a mess, matted yet sticking up as if she tried to rip chunks of it out. There were cuts on her face, like she had dug her nails into her skin, and a bruise from where, one could only assume, she bashed her head into a wall.

Her voice was raspy hiss when she tried to yell.

"I CAN'T FUCKING DO THIS ANYMORE! I CAN'T GO THROUGH THIS WITHOUT SUPPORT! YOU ONLY GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOURSELF!"

She was upset because she didn't want to sit home alone on a Friday night, but refused to go out to the bars. She wanted something, but didn't know what it was. How could someone possibly give it to her?

"I do support you", this tone was much calmer, "but it gets tough when you constantly change up your mind. Nothing is ever good enough. You say you want gold more than anything else, I give you gold, and you throw it at me and tell me you want platinum. I can't continue to deliver if I don't know what I am supposed to be delivering".

A rational thought, right? You'd think. There is no rationalizing with women, especially in this state.

"I MADE YOU!"

Yeah, sure.

"YOU ARE WHAT YOU ARE BECAUSE OF ME! I BROUGHT YOUR BROKEN DOWN ASS BACK UP AND YOU COULDN'T EVEN HELP ME KEEP THE ONE THING IN MY LIFE I HAD GOING FOR ME!"

This time, she flipped a table. More broken glass. Goddamnit.

"YOU STOOD BY AND LET IT HAPPEN! I WAS FOCUSED ON BRINGING YOU BACK FROM THE DEAD AND YOU DIDN'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING OR ANYONE BUT YOURSELF! YOU'RE BETTER OFF NOW, HUH?! YOU'RE MR. HIGH LIFE!"

She ripped open a cabinet drawer, producing a steak knife.

Holy shit.

Surely the neighbors could hear this. The sirens would be coming soon. She put the knife to her wrist.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the fuck is wrong with you?! You've lost your damn mind! Put the knife down, this isn't worth it!"

She pressed it down, drawing a small speckle of blood.

This had been going on for an hour.

"You're a self centered prick. You don't care. You never cared. I was just an object to you, I was just convenient!"

Sigh.

She wasn't wrong. His need for her was waning like the moon, and his patience and tolerance was already nearly gone. She was certified looney, and he always knew this, but he played into what she wanted because it was easier than listening to her. Sure, he loved her, but you can love someone without liking them.

Most people do.

The divorce rate in this country was over 50 percent. No wonder, with bitches acting like this all the time.

"Babe....that isn't true." It felt bad to lie, but it was easier.

"YES IT IS!"

"No....look, put the knife down. Come here, give me a hug."

She was taking her recent lack of success really hard. Her already deeply embedded trust issues and emotional baggage was as deep as the Grand Canyon. She was close to cracking.

He walked slowly over to her. He embraced her, and she dropped the knife. Sobbing into his chest, he knew her makeup was staining his shirt. He would have to change before he went out tonight.

Leaning in and whispering in her ear, his tone was still calm but a lot more firm now.

"I walk it like I talk it. I do what I want, when I want, how I want, when I want, and you are going to have to accept that."

She looked up at him with a mascara stained snot bubble. Her eyes were bordering on empty.

"You didn't make me. I let you think that so that you'd have a goal in life, a project, something to do. I love you, but I don't need you. Stop pushing my limits, and we can get along great. Keep it up, and I will show you exactly who Chris Chaos really is."

She looked back up at him, moving her face back from the pile of makeup and snot on his shirt which now looked like a muddy puddle, and whispered.

"I love you."

"I know."

Looking at his two titles hanging on his wall he grinned as she buried her head back into the embrace.

[Image: u8QzZj1.png]

"Mez, buddy, I am convinced that English is not your first language after all. Either that or your comprehension skills fire at a 3rd grade level. Did you listen to a word I said? You seem to think I am fueled by ego, but failed to remember that I was once at the lowest of low points. I was questioning myself in the mirror every day. I was at a point where I thought I couldn't do this anymore. Mez, I bettered myself. I rose up. The name of this Pay Per View is Second Chance, and that is exactly what this is for me. This is a chance to prove not just to the XWF Universe but to myself that I am as good as I claim to be. This is a second chance to earn my spot as a Top 50 superstar, and a second chance to beat you to within an inch of your pathetic life. This is my second chance to prove to the world that I am all those colorful things I call myself. I say these things because I believe these things, and a win here will just solidify them. I don't need to rely on hope like you do, I get to rely on being what I claim. Walking what I talk.

Mez, I find it amusing that you try to bring up past failures and rub them in my face like they still matter to me. What you failed to do is take the blinders off for two seconds and realize that there is always a converse to the reality. Reno....do I remember him? Of course, how could I forget that greasy face and those 1990's skate kid bangs?

He took my most prized posession from me, and in turn took my soul. He made me question myself, he took me from the top of the world and put me back down at the bottom all in one fell swoop. You brought that up but failed to acknowledge what happened after. Every single time we were in the ring after that I kicked his ass from here to Jupiter. I am the reason Gabe Reno is rotting away in some sub par company with no clout, no buzz, no heat and no name. I put Gabe Reno on the shelf, this time for good, but that little tidbit just slipped your mind didn't it Mez? You were so quick to rub my nose in it like a bad dog, you forgot to understand that I have gotten revenge on everyone who has wronged me. Even Jim Caedus, who I will admit I've never beaten in a match, is gone because of me. I have taken out LEGENDS Mez, you haven't even taken legends out to lunch. People who have more talent in their jockstrap than in your entire body are no longer living their dream because of me. Yet, you think I don't have a reason to be "arrogant"? Heh, buddy, resume's speak volumes. I am 51-21-2, and have won 11 consecutive matches. This one will be 12.

This title, despite what the critics and haters want to say about it, has a lot of clout. It has a lot of history, and I am adding another chapter. Big names have held this belt, and I am the biggest. Neville had quite the streak, I am going to shatter it. Cain was good but not as durable as he claimed, and Nixon succumbed to his lizard fetish. They all had their weaknesses, and I am going to be the rock solid competitor that this title needs to have represent it. What are you going to be Mez? The same old nothing you'e always been. You are going to continue to float around the abyss with no real direction while I continue to skyrocket to the top of this company. One brick at a time, I am building an empire.

So, sure, continue to use the same washed up cliche about me that every single opponent I face uses. Tell me I am too cocky, tell me I am not as good as I claim, tell me that the chaos has been quelled. It only throws gasoline on the fire. It only makes me want to hurt you more. I am beyond glad that you are treating this as a learning experiment, because you need some knowledge. You need to learn when your match is met. I know you don't enjoy beating up on new talent, but right now you can't hang with the top dogs. So, what other choice do you have? You can keep getting your ass whooped on loop, but I take it that isn't much fun either. So maybe this will be an opportunity to learn about yourself. An opportunity to learn who you really are, what you really are, and what you really can't accomplish. Maybe this will be the wake up call you need. You need to learn that there are levels to this shit, and the game isn't for everyone. Maybe this will be the wake up call you need to finally give me a little damn respect. You see I may not be the best at everything, but when I do it, I am the best at it. I just haven't done it all, yet. Get it? Got it. Good. At second chance I will show you that I am self made, self built, and self dominant. I will prove to you once and for all that I walk it just like I talk it. What you see is what you get.......that I am.......

The best in the world............

...........At what I do.

52-21-2
]]> <![CDATA[Moving on]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31467 Fri, 25 May 2018 10:53:03 -0700 The Engineer]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31467
Engy Recap!

Engy has FIRED his manager Madison Dyson! Now, the post Madison era has begun. But what will Engy do with it? And what does the spectral vision of Jim Caedus have to do with any of this?!


A keen eye will recognize the setting as being in the Engineer's old campaign headquarters. Once upon a time Engy was running for Senate before he capriciously decided that just wasn't for him and handed the campaign off to Madison. Thankfully for him, this building was paid off through the end of the year giving him the space to do....whatever this is....

Anyhow, the walls have been stripped bare, leaving the skeleton of a large white room with nothing but a long table and two chairs. Engy is currently occupying one of the chairs, and the other is more or less occupied by the ghost and/or mental image of Jim Caedus. Engy is leaning forward over the table in interest, his fingers steepled together as he considers the two other men standing before him.

Okay gentlemen, as you know I have chosen to terminate the services of my long time manager, Madison Dyson. With her services goes the use of her production studio and staff at Dyson Promo Production studios. So, I'm having to build from the ground up. But, as I'm sure you fine gentlemen are already aware, good television and film production lives or dies based on the quality of the direction it gets. And to that end, you two have reached the end of a long and extensive selection process. I think that'll suffice for exposition.

Caedus nods in agreement as the camera cuts to over Engy and Jim's shoulders, giving us a glimpse of the two candidates standing before him. It's acclaimed blockbuster director and consummate dude-bro Michael Bay and shock-master artist and indie auteur Lars von Trier. Caedus leans in towards Engy. Damn bro, I still can't believe you cut Spielberg so early.

Engy shrugs. Spielberg's lost his edge.

Come on man, Lincoln was dope!

Yeah, and Ready Player One was masturbatory bullshit. Case closed. Okay Michael, this is your chance. Pitch me something beautiful.

Michael Bay clears his throat and takes a step forward. He turns his Abercrombie and Fitch hat around backwards and takes off his wrap around sunglasses because you just know he's all about that shit. Oh Dex, you're not gonna regret this. Okay, close your eyes and picture this. Fade in on a crystal blue sky, it's perfect, cloudless. Shot slowly moves down and pans out on an equally beautiful beach. Megan Fox is there in a string bikini, perky tits moist enough to glisten in the sun. Her thumbs are tucked in the waist band of her bikini and just out of view, which serves the dual purpose of tantalizing you ever so slightly and concealing how weird and stubby her thumbs are....

Lars von Trier steps away wordlessly and walks over to the wall, where a fire extinguisher hangs. He picks up the fire extinguisher.

Suddenly, there is a commotion! The sea gulls instinctively know something is wrong and they scatter! The water behind Megan starts to froth, she slowly turns towards the water, camera zooming up and over the curve of her ample breasts. And then, a Decepticon rises from the water, in all it's fearsome and horrific glory! Megan emotes....kind of. It's never been her strong suit but she'll at least bring her hand to her mouth and play at looking like she swallowed her gum or some shit. She's scared! The Decepticon wades through the water coming closer...and closer....reaching it's claws out towards Megan who is frozen with terror!

Lars tosses the fire extinguisher between his hands back and forth, testing it's heft. Seemingly mildly satisfied, he starts walking back with it towards the front of the room.

And just when you think Megan is completely hosed, Engy this is where you come in! BAM! MOTHER FUCKING EXPLOSION! The Decepticon get's blasted to kingdom come by a huge fuck-off missile. An Autobot screams through the air (because this one is like, a jet, right?) just unloading on this Decepticon, missile after missile....BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! All the while he explains this Bay is gesticulating wildly like an eight year old describing an episode of...well, Transformers. BIG MOTHERFUCKING EXPLOSIONS! The Decepticon is down! The Jet autobot lands and you step out of the cockpit of the Autobot, the brilliant sun encapsulating your head like a halo as Megan runs into your arms. You smirk, put on some shades and say, “Now THAT's how you make an entrance.” Damn, I have an erection.

Lars von Trier drills Michael Bay in the back of the skull with the fire extinguisher, the accompanying crack of bone echoing off the walls as Bay drops like a lead weight. Lars, who is completely expressionless, casually drops the extinguisher into the rapidly forming pool of Michael Bay's blood. Dead eyed and impassive, Lars then looks up at Engy. We are all the bastard children of an ambivalent universe. Life is a meaningless series of unconnected tragedies.

Engy and Jim stare at Lars unblinking for a protracted series of seconds. Finally, Engy breaks the silence. Go ahead Jim, I know you want to.

Jim gleefully rounds the table and bends over the prostrate form of Michael Bay. He takes in a deep breath and then screams as loud as he can.....HAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!!!!

Engy chuckles. Heh heh heh. Yeah, that'll never get old. Lars, show me what you got.

You take a claw hammer to the face of Finn Kuhn, but instead of blood black flower petals pour forth from the wound. You caress his hair as he dies, looking deep in his eyes as the light fades, then whisper something in his ear that the audience cannot hear. In the background numerous, violent rapes are occurring, and the screams of the victims harmonize into a grim rendition of Bach's Piano Concerto in D-minor, forming a perverse synergy of beauty and suffering that will leave the audience quaking, traumatized and nauseated, yet strangely aroused. A sexual response that will leave the viewer with nagging existential doubts about the nature of their morality and very souls for the rest of their days. Fuck you. I hate you. I hate everyone. Lars intones dryly.

Engy's mouth is hanging open in shock. And then, slowly, he brings his hands up and starts a slow applause. Jim joins in as well. Engy shakes his head emphatically “yes” and points at Lars. Hoooollleeeee SHIT do you have this job!

I don't care. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to tether Michael to the back of my Porsche and drag his body for miles and when the police stop me I'm going to call it an art installation. Lars starts to heft Michael's bleeding body onto his shoulders.

Hey man, you do you. But, uh, can you start Monday?

Lars looks back at Engy, his expression still hollow and dead. Yes. 9 AM.

The champ claps his hands together. Wonderful! I'll draft the paperwork! Have fun with with Mikey there.

Lars walks out of the room with Michael Bay as Eny kicks his feet up on the table. Caedus turns back towards him, taking a moment to spit out a couple teeth that have come loose in his rotting gums. Good choice, 'Eng. See, I told you this would all come together without Madison.

Engy looks up at the ceiling, rocking back casually in his chair. I know, right? This is turning out better than I thought. I can't believe I hesitated. Suddenly, he drops his feet back down with a cheeky smile on his face. Jim picks up on it instantly.

Promo time?

You bet your pasty, fried, likely non-existent ass it is!

Engy turns towards the camera, never losing that playfully malicious expression.

Oh Finny poo, you're disappointed you didn't get served a verbal evisceration? Okay, let me just go ahead and rectify that for you. But be careful what you wish for and all that....

Finn Kuhn might not respect me? Oh dear sweet Jesus NO! Finn Kuhn doesn't respect me as a human being. That's okay though, I don't respect you as a human being OR a competitor, so I guess I got no stones to throw there. But I just wanted to congratulate you on your ability to take a cheeky one off remark I made and extrapolate on it to imply I don't give a shit about competition because I like getting paid. As if needing to make a living off wrestling and appreciating the competitive drive are mutually exclusive. That might be true....except for all those times I said I VALUED competition. All those times I went on and on about wanting to fight the best of the best...the Robert Main's and the Jim Caedus' of the XWF....only to get stuck with the Crown Prince of Lowered Expectations (that's you!). Son, it is precisely BECAUSE I love competition that I am dropping this deuce on that piece of abstract art you call a face.

Finn, you want to lead the XWF to the promised land? Bitch, you can't even lead yourself to a winning record. How many times, just how many fucking times, have you gotten on the stick and promised to be better, to show more heart than the competition and all that other “feel good movie of the year” pablum only to royally screw it all up once again? I would be taking this seriously, hell, I WISH I could take this seriously....but for want of a reason to do so. You don't provide that reason Finn. You just don't. And that's a damn shame for a number of reasons, paramount of which is the one valid point you did make, which is that the XWF has been through some tough times recently.

This promotion needs a win. It needs to let its fans and the wrestling world at large know that it's still a global competitor and that it isn't going anywhere. It needs a fucking stacked card with the main event to end all main events serving as the crown jewel (did ya like what I did there?). But instead what we get is me, doing what I always do and kicking ass, fixing to break my foot off in some twiggy little Kraut puke who considers himself God's gift to the XWF despite his inability to stay off his back.

Do I need to spell this out for you some more? 'Kay.

YOU GOT FUCK ALL ON ME.

I know it. The brass knows it. The fans know it. YOU KNOW IT. The odds makers know it. Your mother knows it. And, oh yeah, once more with feeling....YOU DAMN WELL KNOW IT.

The elephant is in the room, it's giant steaming dump is stinking up the place and there you are holding your nose and pretending it don't stank as you juke and dodge around your problematic record and propensity for dropping the ball in big money matches.

“What is a champion?”

Fuck if you know. So I'll tell you. A champion takes on all comers. A champion is dominant. A champion is decisive. A champion is not perfect but they learn from their mistakes. They evolve. They improve. And when they hit that stride...they're CONSISTENT.

Now, I've never been much of a numbers guy, but I'll give it a go here. My XWF record is 19 wins, 2 losses and 2 draws. My first loss came last summer in a tag match with Madison. My second, just recently in another tag match where my kid bailed on me. My singles record is damn near perfect. I won the King of the Ring when nobody thought I could or even wanted me to. I tore through legit XWF legend John Samuels like a hot knife through butter, humbling and humiliating him on his way out the door. I beat the best XWF superstar of the modern era Jim Caedus TWICE, albeit he was far from in top form during our second go round. I held the Xtreme Championship for over 6 months in what just might be the longest reign with that championship of all time.

You see that? It's called being forthright. Now, my record with the truth ain't exactly stainless, but when it comes to my performance I don't need to obfuscate or hide like you do. Because quite frankly, it's just that fucking good. You can't supply that same level of transparency because you can't touch me. Period. And yet you're standing there, cocksure and arrogant and telling me that YOU are what this company needs as champion. That you have earned the right to hold this honor. That you're GOOD enough to be Universal champ.

Finn, you're not even close.

You wanted an evisceration? I hope that made you happy. I hope you're sufficiently GUT FUCKED. Because now, I'm going to do even WORSE than that. I'm gonna ignore you. I'm gonna have a moment with the man who SHOULD be in your spot....who actually DOES deserve to be Universal Champion. And that man is James Raven.

James, this should be your match. But it's not and I'm sorry. I have had it easy so far as champ. Gilly and Finn just don't rate. You do. And after Second Chance I'm going to rectify all this. I'm giving you a chance at my Universal Championship. Name the date. Hell, you can even name the stipulation. And if I survive that, stack 'em all up. Send Robert Main out there so we can have another go. And if my heart's still beating and the blood still flowing after that then start getting legends on the phone. Dig up Deville. Let me take John Madison for a spin. Let me help John Samuels find his smile again. Fuck the Second Chance battle royale and whatever mediocrity it vomits up. Vinnie....Darius....Shane? You got your listening ears in? No more of this Finn Kuhn shit. I want the real shit....the GOOD shit.

Engy laughs, his dark eyes sparkling with a kind of gleeful malice.

Oh Finny-kins, does that sting a bit? Make the old butthole clench? To be ignored? To be an afterthought? I'm thinking months past you boy, you're already in my rear view. And you know what? When it comes to you, that's how it always should have been. You mote...you speck. You total absence. You absolute fucking NOTHING.

I will never care about you. I will never take you seriously. And you have no one but yourself to blame for that. Now let's get this over with and tank some buyrates so I can get on to the fun stuff.

Wanker.

Jim then leans in to the camera. Yeah, and I didn't mean all those compliments I gave you after our match either!

The champ looks askance at Jim, quirking an eyebrow. I'm actually not sure they can see you buddy.

I....oh.... Jim stammers. Well fuck you anyway, Finn. Just in case.

Just in case, indeed.

END! ]]>
Engy Recap!

Engy has FIRED his manager Madison Dyson! Now, the post Madison era has begun. But what will Engy do with it? And what does the spectral vision of Jim Caedus have to do with any of this?!


A keen eye will recognize the setting as being in the Engineer's old campaign headquarters. Once upon a time Engy was running for Senate before he capriciously decided that just wasn't for him and handed the campaign off to Madison. Thankfully for him, this building was paid off through the end of the year giving him the space to do....whatever this is....

Anyhow, the walls have been stripped bare, leaving the skeleton of a large white room with nothing but a long table and two chairs. Engy is currently occupying one of the chairs, and the other is more or less occupied by the ghost and/or mental image of Jim Caedus. Engy is leaning forward over the table in interest, his fingers steepled together as he considers the two other men standing before him.

Okay gentlemen, as you know I have chosen to terminate the services of my long time manager, Madison Dyson. With her services goes the use of her production studio and staff at Dyson Promo Production studios. So, I'm having to build from the ground up. But, as I'm sure you fine gentlemen are already aware, good television and film production lives or dies based on the quality of the direction it gets. And to that end, you two have reached the end of a long and extensive selection process. I think that'll suffice for exposition.

Caedus nods in agreement as the camera cuts to over Engy and Jim's shoulders, giving us a glimpse of the two candidates standing before him. It's acclaimed blockbuster director and consummate dude-bro Michael Bay and shock-master artist and indie auteur Lars von Trier. Caedus leans in towards Engy. Damn bro, I still can't believe you cut Spielberg so early.

Engy shrugs. Spielberg's lost his edge.

Come on man, Lincoln was dope!

Yeah, and Ready Player One was masturbatory bullshit. Case closed. Okay Michael, this is your chance. Pitch me something beautiful.

Michael Bay clears his throat and takes a step forward. He turns his Abercrombie and Fitch hat around backwards and takes off his wrap around sunglasses because you just know he's all about that shit. Oh Dex, you're not gonna regret this. Okay, close your eyes and picture this. Fade in on a crystal blue sky, it's perfect, cloudless. Shot slowly moves down and pans out on an equally beautiful beach. Megan Fox is there in a string bikini, perky tits moist enough to glisten in the sun. Her thumbs are tucked in the waist band of her bikini and just out of view, which serves the dual purpose of tantalizing you ever so slightly and concealing how weird and stubby her thumbs are....

Lars von Trier steps away wordlessly and walks over to the wall, where a fire extinguisher hangs. He picks up the fire extinguisher.

Suddenly, there is a commotion! The sea gulls instinctively know something is wrong and they scatter! The water behind Megan starts to froth, she slowly turns towards the water, camera zooming up and over the curve of her ample breasts. And then, a Decepticon rises from the water, in all it's fearsome and horrific glory! Megan emotes....kind of. It's never been her strong suit but she'll at least bring her hand to her mouth and play at looking like she swallowed her gum or some shit. She's scared! The Decepticon wades through the water coming closer...and closer....reaching it's claws out towards Megan who is frozen with terror!

Lars tosses the fire extinguisher between his hands back and forth, testing it's heft. Seemingly mildly satisfied, he starts walking back with it towards the front of the room.

And just when you think Megan is completely hosed, Engy this is where you come in! BAM! MOTHER FUCKING EXPLOSION! The Decepticon get's blasted to kingdom come by a huge fuck-off missile. An Autobot screams through the air (because this one is like, a jet, right?) just unloading on this Decepticon, missile after missile....BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! All the while he explains this Bay is gesticulating wildly like an eight year old describing an episode of...well, Transformers. BIG MOTHERFUCKING EXPLOSIONS! The Decepticon is down! The Jet autobot lands and you step out of the cockpit of the Autobot, the brilliant sun encapsulating your head like a halo as Megan runs into your arms. You smirk, put on some shades and say, “Now THAT's how you make an entrance.” Damn, I have an erection.

Lars von Trier drills Michael Bay in the back of the skull with the fire extinguisher, the accompanying crack of bone echoing off the walls as Bay drops like a lead weight. Lars, who is completely expressionless, casually drops the extinguisher into the rapidly forming pool of Michael Bay's blood. Dead eyed and impassive, Lars then looks up at Engy. We are all the bastard children of an ambivalent universe. Life is a meaningless series of unconnected tragedies.

Engy and Jim stare at Lars unblinking for a protracted series of seconds. Finally, Engy breaks the silence. Go ahead Jim, I know you want to.

Jim gleefully rounds the table and bends over the prostrate form of Michael Bay. He takes in a deep breath and then screams as loud as he can.....HAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!!!!

Engy chuckles. Heh heh heh. Yeah, that'll never get old. Lars, show me what you got.

You take a claw hammer to the face of Finn Kuhn, but instead of blood black flower petals pour forth from the wound. You caress his hair as he dies, looking deep in his eyes as the light fades, then whisper something in his ear that the audience cannot hear. In the background numerous, violent rapes are occurring, and the screams of the victims harmonize into a grim rendition of Bach's Piano Concerto in D-minor, forming a perverse synergy of beauty and suffering that will leave the audience quaking, traumatized and nauseated, yet strangely aroused. A sexual response that will leave the viewer with nagging existential doubts about the nature of their morality and very souls for the rest of their days. Fuck you. I hate you. I hate everyone. Lars intones dryly.

Engy's mouth is hanging open in shock. And then, slowly, he brings his hands up and starts a slow applause. Jim joins in as well. Engy shakes his head emphatically “yes” and points at Lars. Hoooollleeeee SHIT do you have this job!

I don't care. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to tether Michael to the back of my Porsche and drag his body for miles and when the police stop me I'm going to call it an art installation. Lars starts to heft Michael's bleeding body onto his shoulders.

Hey man, you do you. But, uh, can you start Monday?

Lars looks back at Engy, his expression still hollow and dead. Yes. 9 AM.

The champ claps his hands together. Wonderful! I'll draft the paperwork! Have fun with with Mikey there.

Lars walks out of the room with Michael Bay as Eny kicks his feet up on the table. Caedus turns back towards him, taking a moment to spit out a couple teeth that have come loose in his rotting gums. Good choice, 'Eng. See, I told you this would all come together without Madison.

Engy looks up at the ceiling, rocking back casually in his chair. I know, right? This is turning out better than I thought. I can't believe I hesitated. Suddenly, he drops his feet back down with a cheeky smile on his face. Jim picks up on it instantly.

Promo time?

You bet your pasty, fried, likely non-existent ass it is!

Engy turns towards the camera, never losing that playfully malicious expression.

Oh Finny poo, you're disappointed you didn't get served a verbal evisceration? Okay, let me just go ahead and rectify that for you. But be careful what you wish for and all that....

Finn Kuhn might not respect me? Oh dear sweet Jesus NO! Finn Kuhn doesn't respect me as a human being. That's okay though, I don't respect you as a human being OR a competitor, so I guess I got no stones to throw there. But I just wanted to congratulate you on your ability to take a cheeky one off remark I made and extrapolate on it to imply I don't give a shit about competition because I like getting paid. As if needing to make a living off wrestling and appreciating the competitive drive are mutually exclusive. That might be true....except for all those times I said I VALUED competition. All those times I went on and on about wanting to fight the best of the best...the Robert Main's and the Jim Caedus' of the XWF....only to get stuck with the Crown Prince of Lowered Expectations (that's you!). Son, it is precisely BECAUSE I love competition that I am dropping this deuce on that piece of abstract art you call a face.

Finn, you want to lead the XWF to the promised land? Bitch, you can't even lead yourself to a winning record. How many times, just how many fucking times, have you gotten on the stick and promised to be better, to show more heart than the competition and all that other “feel good movie of the year” pablum only to royally screw it all up once again? I would be taking this seriously, hell, I WISH I could take this seriously....but for want of a reason to do so. You don't provide that reason Finn. You just don't. And that's a damn shame for a number of reasons, paramount of which is the one valid point you did make, which is that the XWF has been through some tough times recently.

This promotion needs a win. It needs to let its fans and the wrestling world at large know that it's still a global competitor and that it isn't going anywhere. It needs a fucking stacked card with the main event to end all main events serving as the crown jewel (did ya like what I did there?). But instead what we get is me, doing what I always do and kicking ass, fixing to break my foot off in some twiggy little Kraut puke who considers himself God's gift to the XWF despite his inability to stay off his back.

Do I need to spell this out for you some more? 'Kay.

YOU GOT FUCK ALL ON ME.

I know it. The brass knows it. The fans know it. YOU KNOW IT. The odds makers know it. Your mother knows it. And, oh yeah, once more with feeling....YOU DAMN WELL KNOW IT.

The elephant is in the room, it's giant steaming dump is stinking up the place and there you are holding your nose and pretending it don't stank as you juke and dodge around your problematic record and propensity for dropping the ball in big money matches.

“What is a champion?”

Fuck if you know. So I'll tell you. A champion takes on all comers. A champion is dominant. A champion is decisive. A champion is not perfect but they learn from their mistakes. They evolve. They improve. And when they hit that stride...they're CONSISTENT.

Now, I've never been much of a numbers guy, but I'll give it a go here. My XWF record is 19 wins, 2 losses and 2 draws. My first loss came last summer in a tag match with Madison. My second, just recently in another tag match where my kid bailed on me. My singles record is damn near perfect. I won the King of the Ring when nobody thought I could or even wanted me to. I tore through legit XWF legend John Samuels like a hot knife through butter, humbling and humiliating him on his way out the door. I beat the best XWF superstar of the modern era Jim Caedus TWICE, albeit he was far from in top form during our second go round. I held the Xtreme Championship for over 6 months in what just might be the longest reign with that championship of all time.

You see that? It's called being forthright. Now, my record with the truth ain't exactly stainless, but when it comes to my performance I don't need to obfuscate or hide like you do. Because quite frankly, it's just that fucking good. You can't supply that same level of transparency because you can't touch me. Period. And yet you're standing there, cocksure and arrogant and telling me that YOU are what this company needs as champion. That you have earned the right to hold this honor. That you're GOOD enough to be Universal champ.

Finn, you're not even close.

You wanted an evisceration? I hope that made you happy. I hope you're sufficiently GUT FUCKED. Because now, I'm going to do even WORSE than that. I'm gonna ignore you. I'm gonna have a moment with the man who SHOULD be in your spot....who actually DOES deserve to be Universal Champion. And that man is James Raven.

James, this should be your match. But it's not and I'm sorry. I have had it easy so far as champ. Gilly and Finn just don't rate. You do. And after Second Chance I'm going to rectify all this. I'm giving you a chance at my Universal Championship. Name the date. Hell, you can even name the stipulation. And if I survive that, stack 'em all up. Send Robert Main out there so we can have another go. And if my heart's still beating and the blood still flowing after that then start getting legends on the phone. Dig up Deville. Let me take John Madison for a spin. Let me help John Samuels find his smile again. Fuck the Second Chance battle royale and whatever mediocrity it vomits up. Vinnie....Darius....Shane? You got your listening ears in? No more of this Finn Kuhn shit. I want the real shit....the GOOD shit.

Engy laughs, his dark eyes sparkling with a kind of gleeful malice.

Oh Finny-kins, does that sting a bit? Make the old butthole clench? To be ignored? To be an afterthought? I'm thinking months past you boy, you're already in my rear view. And you know what? When it comes to you, that's how it always should have been. You mote...you speck. You total absence. You absolute fucking NOTHING.

I will never care about you. I will never take you seriously. And you have no one but yourself to blame for that. Now let's get this over with and tank some buyrates so I can get on to the fun stuff.

Wanker.

Jim then leans in to the camera. Yeah, and I didn't mean all those compliments I gave you after our match either!

The champ looks askance at Jim, quirking an eyebrow. I'm actually not sure they can see you buddy.

I....oh.... Jim stammers. Well fuck you anyway, Finn. Just in case.

Just in case, indeed.

END! ]]> <![CDATA[I'm gonna suck you from your head to your toes]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31465 Fri, 25 May 2018 06:33:30 -0700 Benny Blowjobs]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31465 There I said it. Every single person who enters the Second Chance Battle Royal will do so at their own peril. Once you enter that squared circle you better have eyes in the back of your head because if not when you look down you're gonna see me bobbing for apples on your balls. Then I am going to gently lick your shaft until you erupt in the back of my throat.

And don't worry Gilmour Braggins, I can deep throat any dick, even one as 'super' as yours.

This is gonna be fun.]]> There I said it. Every single person who enters the Second Chance Battle Royal will do so at their own peril. Once you enter that squared circle you better have eyes in the back of your head because if not when you look down you're gonna see me bobbing for apples on your balls. Then I am going to gently lick your shaft until you erupt in the back of my throat.

And don't worry Gilmour Braggins, I can deep throat any dick, even one as 'super' as yours.

This is gonna be fun.]]> <![CDATA[Da Fuq (rp1)]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31464 Thu, 24 May 2018 23:57:56 -0700 Griffin MacAlister]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31464


Home is where the heart is... or where you hang your hat. Except for the fact that, I have no heart for this home. Oh and I don't wear hats. Ever. So maybe in regards to myself, I oughta say something like this... home is the shithole where you store your fuckin' boots when you aren't wearing them. Haha! Yep. That right there seems about right. Pretty much sums up my current living situation too. I'm living in a basic, run of the mill, crappy apartment. Though it's not like that's a huge issue. I mean I ain't ever needed much to survive in the first place. Still it's the principle. I'm staying in this place because I had to move. I had to relocate. Why did I have to do that? Cause I'm back in the XWF. Yay! Are you excited? Yeah... right. I'm thrilled about it too.

Since returning to the XWF, I've been asked to do little. Although that was the basic idea of my employment record with them before. It's like Shane yanked me outta the life that I had built for myself, just to fuck with me. Which sounds exactly like something that god damn maniac would do for kicks. He was bored and decided, lets find Griffin and remind him of the employment obligation that he still owes. Nothing good was on television that day or he couldn't find someone to fetch him potatoes for his disturbing fetish. So he turned to the ol' roll a deck. Yeah, I'm willin' to bet he still uses that shit. He did when I left, I'm wagering he still fucking does now. A roll a deck. Like we're stuck in a bad 80's flick. Anyways, I picture that he turned to that ol' roll a deck and said to himself... "Hmmm... who can I fuck with today?" and then, I just happened to be the unfortunate bastard he pulled on out of that piece of crap. Naturally he'd find out that my number was long since changed but that's when the mission starts and it provokes the lunatic to find my ass. Trust me. I've been in close operations with that potato fondling, crackpot in the past and dealt with a magnitude of his shenanigans. As insane as it all sounds. It is very plausible. So now I'm back with the XWF, with my dick in my hand wonderin' what was so important that I had to be dragged back here. And I find myself entering some bullshit called the Second Chance Battle Royal. Fuck it, right? What else do I gotta do in this jive ass company?

Lets see... right about now that means I should have a camera freak watching me. One of them creepy fucks that looms in the shadows and films wrestlers. This isn't something that I have to sit there and wonder about either. Nah. All I gotta do is go on instinct. Pull my Colt 45. Point and shoot. The bullet finds a home in the wall, about two inches next to the camera freak's skull. Which causes the thing to scramble, like some kinda creature fleeing for its life. Disappearing into the shadows where I shit ya not, it vaporizes. Vanishes into thin air. Like it had never been there. Now this act would send any normal, sane man, straight to the psych ward. Obviously the pressures of life have taken over. Insanity has set in. That's it. Time for the loony bin in order to get fitted for a straight jacket. But I ain't a normal, sane man. I also have been in this place before. Employed with the XWF. I am well aware of how they operate. Those camera freaks, they are a trip and a half. It's like something out of Lord Of The Rings. Gollum with a camera. Except now he's multiplied, can travel through the shadows and is obsessed with filming wrestlers. I'm pretty sure the company breeds them for that purpose. Whatever the fuck they are. Cause they can't be human and I wouldn't put farming nightmare creatures, for the purpose of using them as camera handlers past anyone in management with the XWF. I know this place. All too well.

Anyhow, where one once lurked, another isn't too far off. Might as well give the creepers what they're after.

"Sup XWF, Griffin MacAlister here and I'm comin' at ya, live from my apartment. Why the fuck am I doing this? That is a very good question. Well it's cause I went and entered myself in the Second Chance Battle Royal. Second Chance Battle Royal? Second chance for what? It ain't a second chance for anything for me. Not as far as I'm concerned. I'm going into this fight with one thing on my mind. To beat some fuckin' ass. Get my shit kickers shined up, real nice and throw a boot party. That's it. I don't give a crap about these title shots that seem to give everyone and their fuckin' mother a hard on. That's right. I said mother and hard on. Cause everyone knows that Peter Gilmour's mother was born with both parts. That's internal and external. I seen the leaked footage of Gilmour's birth. I know. It was disturbing to say the least. Still get nightmares 'bout that shit. Not sure who sent it to me but I got some ideas about who it might be. The real question is why did I keep watchin' it? I guess it's like that whole concept of seeing a car crash. You just can't look away. Now I've seen some fucked up shit in my day. Done some wicked terrible, awful acts too. And yet that footage, still scarred my ass. Probably for life. So thanx for that 'mystery' person."

"Petes, you chicken parm lovin' son of a... fuck if I know what... transvestite? Do you still call it a tranny if it can give birth? I'm asking ya man. You grew up with it. I'm assuming you know the answer. Or maybe you don't. I don't know. Yo even if you don't have the answer for that question. I gotta say. I can't imagine what your life might've been like living in that house. Fuck man. That had to be intense. This is me assuming stuff but you did grow up to eventually dong worship the devil and you married a man. A man that you insist is a lady. Even though he's very apparently a dude. He's not very discreet about scratching his nuts and he uses the men's room. Then there's the beard. I know I've personally seen this dude shaving. Out in the open. Shaving a thick ass beard. He was in line for a hot dog! Why does your husband do that?!?! It's weird. Waitin' on food and this fucker has his electric shaver out. Casually shaving in public. Too be honest he shoulda been usin' a weed wacker. Cause that was a big ol' beard. ZZ Top would have been put to shame fuckin' big. It was like he was chopping away at a hedge with an electric razor. That's how thick it was! And this is the person that you honestly believe is a woman! C'mon... some fucked up shit had to go down in the ol' Gilmour homestead. I'm not going to traverse down the path of possibilities. Only cause I don't wanna put my brain through the trauma. I've seen you in action though. We have a past. We faced off against each other. Teamed up. So I think I know what I'm talking about. Some horrendous crap had to go down in that place. It's the only thing that explains your mindset."

"Speakin' of our past. I remember sittin' there stoned as a motherfucker, watching you devour tray after tray of chicken parm. Never knowing where they kept materializing from but maybe that's your super power. The XWF has all sorts of magical fucktards roaming the halls. I've strolled down those halls. I seen 'em. Maybe you really are the chicken parm king. Your powers are that you summon chicken parm. Not a very useful or helpful power to have but speakin' as the guy who used to be forced into meetings with you there, it seemed to keep you happy. So kudos to that? I'd say maybe you could save some starving countries but we both know that you aren't going to do that. No ways. That ain't Petes jam. Not when there's parm and bushy beard Maria to be had. "

"Hey but we're facing off in the same match. Y'know I actually managed to catch a promo that you put out there and I have got to say. Maria is looking as manly as ever. Okay, I didn't mean to go that route. Everyone knows that. No need to beat a dead horse into the ground. I have to address something else that I noticed. Petes. Buddy. Who the fuck is that aberration that you keep locked up in your place and what is he there for? I honestly have no memory of this man. I've smoked quite a few blunts between the last time we spoke and now. So maybe he existed and I just locked it outta my memory. It's so fuckin' bizarre! You got this fuckin' mutant lurking about your place. He kinda popped out of nowhere on me too. I was packing a bowl, you see. I'm looking down and doin' my thing. Grab the lighter and I'm 'bout to hit that shit. Y'know cause its been running its mouth. So I gotta hit that shit. Teach it some manners. Then all of a sudden. Mid-bowl hit. There's this god damn gargoyle on my tv screen! I don't scare easily man but that thing came out of nowhere. It was like there's Gilly and suddenly... this freakish monstrosity appears. Practically outta nowhere! I almost dropped the bowl! Yeah. That's right. I almost dropped the damn bowl! So tell me Petes, when did you become pals with the Toxic Avenger? Why are you letting Swamp Thing get it on at your home? More importantly, why are you keeping him there? What's his purpose? Is he your home security? Do you lock the doors from the outside when you leave, so he can't get away? Are there padlocks on the front door so he can't get loose? Or is it just pure Stockholm syndrome that's occurring at this point? Really. I'm curious and I gotta know. What the fuck is up?"

"Movin' on to... fuck it, Pestilence. I'll give you a shout out. Alright Pest, I have to ask. When you were coming up with a clever name to use in order to pursue a career, wrasslin' for this joint, did you simply sound that shit out? I've seen your name in print. Several times actually and it's always spelled wrong. Every transcript, for everything that I watched, concerning you, it's written incorrectly. See, I know your name is Pestilence because Pestalance isn't a thing. So it has to be Pestilence. After one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. That's the only thing that makes sense. Unless you're a goofy bastard who's making nonsense up. Which could be very much the case. There are folks that do that shit all the time. Somehow I don't think that's what's going on here. It seems different."

"Come to think of it, that shit even sounds different. I got a fucked up way of talkin' though, so I ain't going to judge you on pronouncing words. I talk lazy and quick. Whatever. That's not the point. The point is this... did you know that you spelled your own name wrong? I looked up your application. I seen that it was written in crayon and that Pestilence was misspelled. You got a manager too, I assume. I only seen a limited number of promos by you, I don't know if you have a manager or not. All I noted was that your ex-girlfriend beat you and that you've been crying because the XWF is screwing you over. A guy like you needs someone to watch out for him. To make sure you don't do something stupid, like misspell your own name. The company fucks people over, left and right. Don't make it easier for them. Get proactive about the situation. For fucks sake, learn to spell your own name. And stop crying. Holy shit. Stop motherfucking crying. On the real. You need to quit that shit and man up. I'm just sayin' life ain't going to be easy for a dude like you. But you have to try and take control of yourself and what's going on. You can't get all bent out of shape like this. I get that you're upset. That piece of shit, Nathaniel got people all a twitter and filled with glee. Who knows why? I can't explain the reason behind that. I do know that's happened before. I was there to witness it. Shit happens. Pick your big, black ass off the floor and either get over it or move on. It's that simple. Sink or swim motherfucker. There isn't anyone that's going to throw you a life preserver in this place. In the XWF. There's no place for stupidity or tears. Right now, you've managed to fail on both accounts. Everyone can see that too."]]>


Home is where the heart is... or where you hang your hat. Except for the fact that, I have no heart for this home. Oh and I don't wear hats. Ever. So maybe in regards to myself, I oughta say something like this... home is the shithole where you store your fuckin' boots when you aren't wearing them. Haha! Yep. That right there seems about right. Pretty much sums up my current living situation too. I'm living in a basic, run of the mill, crappy apartment. Though it's not like that's a huge issue. I mean I ain't ever needed much to survive in the first place. Still it's the principle. I'm staying in this place because I had to move. I had to relocate. Why did I have to do that? Cause I'm back in the XWF. Yay! Are you excited? Yeah... right. I'm thrilled about it too.

Since returning to the XWF, I've been asked to do little. Although that was the basic idea of my employment record with them before. It's like Shane yanked me outta the life that I had built for myself, just to fuck with me. Which sounds exactly like something that god damn maniac would do for kicks. He was bored and decided, lets find Griffin and remind him of the employment obligation that he still owes. Nothing good was on television that day or he couldn't find someone to fetch him potatoes for his disturbing fetish. So he turned to the ol' roll a deck. Yeah, I'm willin' to bet he still uses that shit. He did when I left, I'm wagering he still fucking does now. A roll a deck. Like we're stuck in a bad 80's flick. Anyways, I picture that he turned to that ol' roll a deck and said to himself... "Hmmm... who can I fuck with today?" and then, I just happened to be the unfortunate bastard he pulled on out of that piece of crap. Naturally he'd find out that my number was long since changed but that's when the mission starts and it provokes the lunatic to find my ass. Trust me. I've been in close operations with that potato fondling, crackpot in the past and dealt with a magnitude of his shenanigans. As insane as it all sounds. It is very plausible. So now I'm back with the XWF, with my dick in my hand wonderin' what was so important that I had to be dragged back here. And I find myself entering some bullshit called the Second Chance Battle Royal. Fuck it, right? What else do I gotta do in this jive ass company?

Lets see... right about now that means I should have a camera freak watching me. One of them creepy fucks that looms in the shadows and films wrestlers. This isn't something that I have to sit there and wonder about either. Nah. All I gotta do is go on instinct. Pull my Colt 45. Point and shoot. The bullet finds a home in the wall, about two inches next to the camera freak's skull. Which causes the thing to scramble, like some kinda creature fleeing for its life. Disappearing into the shadows where I shit ya not, it vaporizes. Vanishes into thin air. Like it had never been there. Now this act would send any normal, sane man, straight to the psych ward. Obviously the pressures of life have taken over. Insanity has set in. That's it. Time for the loony bin in order to get fitted for a straight jacket. But I ain't a normal, sane man. I also have been in this place before. Employed with the XWF. I am well aware of how they operate. Those camera freaks, they are a trip and a half. It's like something out of Lord Of The Rings. Gollum with a camera. Except now he's multiplied, can travel through the shadows and is obsessed with filming wrestlers. I'm pretty sure the company breeds them for that purpose. Whatever the fuck they are. Cause they can't be human and I wouldn't put farming nightmare creatures, for the purpose of using them as camera handlers past anyone in management with the XWF. I know this place. All too well.

Anyhow, where one once lurked, another isn't too far off. Might as well give the creepers what they're after.

"Sup XWF, Griffin MacAlister here and I'm comin' at ya, live from my apartment. Why the fuck am I doing this? That is a very good question. Well it's cause I went and entered myself in the Second Chance Battle Royal. Second Chance Battle Royal? Second chance for what? It ain't a second chance for anything for me. Not as far as I'm concerned. I'm going into this fight with one thing on my mind. To beat some fuckin' ass. Get my shit kickers shined up, real nice and throw a boot party. That's it. I don't give a crap about these title shots that seem to give everyone and their fuckin' mother a hard on. That's right. I said mother and hard on. Cause everyone knows that Peter Gilmour's mother was born with both parts. That's internal and external. I seen the leaked footage of Gilmour's birth. I know. It was disturbing to say the least. Still get nightmares 'bout that shit. Not sure who sent it to me but I got some ideas about who it might be. The real question is why did I keep watchin' it? I guess it's like that whole concept of seeing a car crash. You just can't look away. Now I've seen some fucked up shit in my day. Done some wicked terrible, awful acts too. And yet that footage, still scarred my ass. Probably for life. So thanx for that 'mystery' person."

"Petes, you chicken parm lovin' son of a... fuck if I know what... transvestite? Do you still call it a tranny if it can give birth? I'm asking ya man. You grew up with it. I'm assuming you know the answer. Or maybe you don't. I don't know. Yo even if you don't have the answer for that question. I gotta say. I can't imagine what your life might've been like living in that house. Fuck man. That had to be intense. This is me assuming stuff but you did grow up to eventually dong worship the devil and you married a man. A man that you insist is a lady. Even though he's very apparently a dude. He's not very discreet about scratching his nuts and he uses the men's room. Then there's the beard. I know I've personally seen this dude shaving. Out in the open. Shaving a thick ass beard. He was in line for a hot dog! Why does your husband do that?!?! It's weird. Waitin' on food and this fucker has his electric shaver out. Casually shaving in public. Too be honest he shoulda been usin' a weed wacker. Cause that was a big ol' beard. ZZ Top would have been put to shame fuckin' big. It was like he was chopping away at a hedge with an electric razor. That's how thick it was! And this is the person that you honestly believe is a woman! C'mon... some fucked up shit had to go down in the ol' Gilmour homestead. I'm not going to traverse down the path of possibilities. Only cause I don't wanna put my brain through the trauma. I've seen you in action though. We have a past. We faced off against each other. Teamed up. So I think I know what I'm talking about. Some horrendous crap had to go down in that place. It's the only thing that explains your mindset."

"Speakin' of our past. I remember sittin' there stoned as a motherfucker, watching you devour tray after tray of chicken parm. Never knowing where they kept materializing from but maybe that's your super power. The XWF has all sorts of magical fucktards roaming the halls. I've strolled down those halls. I seen 'em. Maybe you really are the chicken parm king. Your powers are that you summon chicken parm. Not a very useful or helpful power to have but speakin' as the guy who used to be forced into meetings with you there, it seemed to keep you happy. So kudos to that? I'd say maybe you could save some starving countries but we both know that you aren't going to do that. No ways. That ain't Petes jam. Not when there's parm and bushy beard Maria to be had. "

"Hey but we're facing off in the same match. Y'know I actually managed to catch a promo that you put out there and I have got to say. Maria is looking as manly as ever. Okay, I didn't mean to go that route. Everyone knows that. No need to beat a dead horse into the ground. I have to address something else that I noticed. Petes. Buddy. Who the fuck is that aberration that you keep locked up in your place and what is he there for? I honestly have no memory of this man. I've smoked quite a few blunts between the last time we spoke and now. So maybe he existed and I just locked it outta my memory. It's so fuckin' bizarre! You got this fuckin' mutant lurking about your place. He kinda popped out of nowhere on me too. I was packing a bowl, you see. I'm looking down and doin' my thing. Grab the lighter and I'm 'bout to hit that shit. Y'know cause its been running its mouth. So I gotta hit that shit. Teach it some manners. Then all of a sudden. Mid-bowl hit. There's this god damn gargoyle on my tv screen! I don't scare easily man but that thing came out of nowhere. It was like there's Gilly and suddenly... this freakish monstrosity appears. Practically outta nowhere! I almost dropped the bowl! Yeah. That's right. I almost dropped the damn bowl! So tell me Petes, when did you become pals with the Toxic Avenger? Why are you letting Swamp Thing get it on at your home? More importantly, why are you keeping him there? What's his purpose? Is he your home security? Do you lock the doors from the outside when you leave, so he can't get away? Are there padlocks on the front door so he can't get loose? Or is it just pure Stockholm syndrome that's occurring at this point? Really. I'm curious and I gotta know. What the fuck is up?"

"Movin' on to... fuck it, Pestilence. I'll give you a shout out. Alright Pest, I have to ask. When you were coming up with a clever name to use in order to pursue a career, wrasslin' for this joint, did you simply sound that shit out? I've seen your name in print. Several times actually and it's always spelled wrong. Every transcript, for everything that I watched, concerning you, it's written incorrectly. See, I know your name is Pestilence because Pestalance isn't a thing. So it has to be Pestilence. After one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. That's the only thing that makes sense. Unless you're a goofy bastard who's making nonsense up. Which could be very much the case. There are folks that do that shit all the time. Somehow I don't think that's what's going on here. It seems different."

"Come to think of it, that shit even sounds different. I got a fucked up way of talkin' though, so I ain't going to judge you on pronouncing words. I talk lazy and quick. Whatever. That's not the point. The point is this... did you know that you spelled your own name wrong? I looked up your application. I seen that it was written in crayon and that Pestilence was misspelled. You got a manager too, I assume. I only seen a limited number of promos by you, I don't know if you have a manager or not. All I noted was that your ex-girlfriend beat you and that you've been crying because the XWF is screwing you over. A guy like you needs someone to watch out for him. To make sure you don't do something stupid, like misspell your own name. The company fucks people over, left and right. Don't make it easier for them. Get proactive about the situation. For fucks sake, learn to spell your own name. And stop crying. Holy shit. Stop motherfucking crying. On the real. You need to quit that shit and man up. I'm just sayin' life ain't going to be easy for a dude like you. But you have to try and take control of yourself and what's going on. You can't get all bent out of shape like this. I get that you're upset. That piece of shit, Nathaniel got people all a twitter and filled with glee. Who knows why? I can't explain the reason behind that. I do know that's happened before. I was there to witness it. Shit happens. Pick your big, black ass off the floor and either get over it or move on. It's that simple. Sink or swim motherfucker. There isn't anyone that's going to throw you a life preserver in this place. In the XWF. There's no place for stupidity or tears. Right now, you've managed to fail on both accounts. Everyone can see that too."]]> <![CDATA[Smooth It Over]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31463 Thu, 24 May 2018 16:45:29 -0700 Jackie Peppers]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=31463

We open to see Jackie Peppers standing outside, the sun beaming down on his glum, weary face. He is holding a piledriver, as in the tool, not the wrestling maneuver. He is flanked by Black Angus, his surly Scottish manager, and Robbie Bourbon Bob Whiskey, the lovable that he is, both of whom are holding hoes, as in the tool, not the person who gets paid for sexy times.

Uh, A-Angus, what are we d-doing out here?

Gittin sum sunsheen laddie, ye gut quite de task cummin up, lerd knews whut keend uff loonaticks wul shew up.

I know it's sunny, but why are we holding these tools?

Yill see, lad, yill see.

Well, what should I do to prepare for the big battle royale?

Bob and Angus glance at each other and shrug. Angus pulls a gallon bottle of rail whiskey from under his kilt, removes the cap, and takes a swig. After wiping his mouth, he looks at Jackie.

Survive, lad, survive. Tik na prisnars, slide oot the buttom roop if ye need ta, dunna worry about gettin' all de eliminations, jus' get the las' wun, ya kin?

I, uh, I guess I get it, but is there anything more specific you could tell me?

Well, the secret I found...

A squirrel runs past. As it does, Bob loses his train of thought and takes off after it, swinging his hoe madly.

GET BACK HERE YOU PRICK!

Angus laughs and pulls the bottle of whiskey out of his taint or wherever.

Angus, I think that guy has problems...

As Jackie utters this, Bob comes charging back into view, running in the opposite direction with a look of terror on his face.

LEAVE ME ALONE, THIS ISN'T FAIR!

Bob, still flailing his hoe around, is now being run down by 40 squirrels, holding a machete and, in a rather biblical turn of events, the jawbone of an ass. Samson eat your heart out.

Angus, I need a new sparring partner, that guy is a little wiggy.

Aye, but un of de best aroun'.

Bob runs back into view directly behind Angus and Jackie and is overcome by the 40 squirrels, all of whom tackle the corpulent Bob to the ground as Bob writhes, probably in both agony and ecstasy.

No, Angus, I need someone who doesn't get beat up by 40 squirrels every so often.

Welp, de groop we ur meetin' tadee might help widdat.

The camera turns and shows a school bus pull up. The doors open, and a group of adults begin to exit. Some are carrying bags, some are carrying more landscaping tools, some are carrying coolers.

And that's when an angel steps off the bus.

Long flowing hair, big bright eyes, and as per the norm, a massive set of boobs. Major league yabbos. The woman is distinctly racktacular. Jackie's jaw drops as he watches her get off, as in depart, not have an orgasm. Angus snickers.

Lewks like quite de sparring partner dere, lad!

She's amazing! I, uh, I have to, um...

Play it cewl, lad, be easy. Lit her cum to ye.

Who are these people, anyways?

A man approaches, obviously in charge as evidenced by the fact he's not carrying a damn thing (management has its perks). He is wearing a name tag that reads Chet.

Hi, I'm Chet, are you Angus?

Chet sticks his hand out to shake, however with his digits creating a horizontal plane, not vertical. Angus sticks his hand out to shake like a regular person and Chet makes a queer face, queer as in befuddled, not as in homosexual.

That's not how we do things.

Chet reaches out and twists Angus's hand to accept his. Angus makes a queer face, though with Angus it may be slightly homosexual.

Angus, Mr. Peppers, we of the Flat Earth Society appreciate you lending your brand of celebrity to our cause today.

Woah, Flat Earth Society?

I know, you must be very excited to be associated with us, debunking the falsehoods of the rounded earth theory. Our ancestors knew secrets we don't, Mr. Peppers, and the Illuminati, Facebook, Social Justice Warriors, Christian Conservatives, and their ilk all try to propagate the silly idea that the world is not flat.

Um...

All will be explained at our barbecue here today.

Jackie turns and glances at the beauty he was agog with earlier, and she is staring at him. Both look away, the girl with a coy smile, Jackie looking like he's on the verge of a heart attack.

Mr. Angus, I am glad you brought some tools to help us with the ceremonies. Please excuse me, I have other things to prepare.

As Chet turns and walks away, Angus pulls his whiskey out and hits it. He offers it to Jackie.

I, uh, that girl...

Dat gurl is a flat earth believer, Jackie me bye. Ye kin seal de deal wit little effort widdat one.

I, ooooh, I don't know Angus.

Angus rolls his eyes and puts his whiskey away.

Lewk, lad, dat sweet fine lass believes in fairy tales and rubbish, jus' tell her yew dun like the round earth society, bounce yer dick off a' dem knockers, give'r a pearl necklace.

B-But, what if I really like her...

Pssht.

Angus yanks his whiskey bottle out from under his kilt. As he does, two bowling balls and a hockey stick fall to the ground, followed by the report of a huge fart. The fart causes Angus's eyes to cross. Jackie recoils.

Lewk, lad, dat girl ain't de un. D'ye believe de earth is flat?

What? N-no! Only an idiot thinks the world is flat, what is this, the dark ages?

Zactly, lad, zactly. Dunnah be fallin' fer sum lil' piece of tumble and spurt in a short skirt dat idn't right in de head.

You aren't right in the head.

Haw!

Angus takes a slug of his whiskey and slaps Jackie on the back.

Yer learnin'! Good on ye!

Chet and the rest of the flat earthers, having set up a picnic area behind Bob Whiskey, still wrestling with 40 squirrels, approach Angus and Jackie.

Gentlemen, we're ready to get started. Hamburgers should be ready in about thirty minutes.

Do you have any hot dogs?

Chet scowls at Bob.

We don't have "hot dogs", sir. They simply aren't flat.

Chet, who literally used air quotes when saying hot dogs, as though they were hypothetical, forces a pompous laugh, along with a few other flat earthers. The beauty bites her lower lip as she and Jackie make eye contact again. Angus notices and elbows Jackie in the ribs.

Yer in de money, lad, now get in de panties.

Shh!

Jackie's eyes bulge from their sockets, and the beautiful lady giggles. As she does, Chet and his crew start to pile globes.

Uh, Chet, what are you doing with those?

These are lies, Mr. Peppers. Falsehoods spread by the liberal, conservative, and moderate media. We intend to destroy these pieces of propaganda thoroughly.

A random flat earther starts the massive bonfire of globes, the sight of the world burning, or a bunch of the worlds burning, leaving Jackie making a queer face, queer as in perplexed, not as in befuddled nor homosexual.

Alright, let's get started!

The flat earthers all grab landscaping implements and take to the fields around them, finding mounds, ditches, holes, or stumps and setting to the task of flattening their surroundings. Jackie carries his piledriver, stepping over Bob Whiskey, who seems to have several of 40 squirrels in assorted tickle holds and vice versa, and walks towards the gorgeous woman he saw earlier. She reminds you of your second crush, the kind you had after you realized the first was a fool's errand, her cleavage jiggling like mad as she holds a clothes iron plugged into a generator to the ground, scoring the grass. Scoring as in burning, not as in having coitus.

Uh, hi, I'm Jackie.

Hehe. I know. I love the XWF. I'm Laquandisha.

Oh, heh. Laquandisha. I like that name.

Heh, thank you. Do you want to help?

Uh, how?

Well, just take that big tool of yours, find a few mounds, and smash it until you're satisfied.

Laquandisha grins innocently as Jackie's eyes shoot straight at her chesticles.

B-But, Laquandisha, I need to tell you something.

What's that?

The earth, it's...

With a loud 'fwoosh' the entirety of the globes catch fire, and the cooking team representing flat earth put a big flat grill across the flames. The flame makes Laquandisha's eyes glow as she looks on in joy. She turns back to Jackie.

What about the earth? Would you like to go on our cruise to the edge of the earth, Jackie? We will set sail, see the tip, and come back.

Uh, about that, Laquandisha, the earth isn't flat, it's round! These guys are all crazy!

Angus rushes up, clearing his throat very loudly along the way.

Nye, nye, nye, nah ye didna! Jackie, stop jokin' wit de lass...

It's not a joke, Angus! The world is round! We didn't have to go into space to learn that, we knew it for centuries, and these people need the truth!

The flat earthers all turn and stare at Jackie. Chet steps forward.

Heretic. We will stop you and your lies!

With that, the flat earthers all charge Jackie. Flat earthers weilding hoes, shovels, pavers, and other landscaping equipment. Jackie drops the piledriver he'd been carrying and runs at Chet. We fade out.


As we fade back in, we see Jackie surrounded by all the flat earthers, all flat, all on the earth, and there's a crazed look in Jackie's eye. He turns to Laquandisha, who looks terrified.

La-La-Laquandisha, I, uh...

Angus walks up to Laquandisha.

D'na worry about de lad, missy, he's a fightin' machine, he thought he was here to spar wit yer friends and was only funnin'.

Laquandisha looks at Angus like he was the savior she always needed.

Oh, thank you...

M'names Angus, but yew kin cull me Blackie.

Blackie. I like it. Would you like to spray your semen on my massive, firm, and youthful breasts?

Yep. Less gew.

Laquandisha stands, turns off her clothes iron and disengages her generator. She and Angus frolic off into the bushes.

Tole ya, lad.

Jackie, catching his breath, looks around at the mess of beat up flat earthers, and watches as Laquandisha goes to have any of seven different STDs splattered all over her chest.

Oh, shit.

Jackie slumps. As he does, 40 squirrels, having had their way with Bob Whiskey, who is snoring on the ground, attack Jackie.]]>

We open to see Jackie Peppers standing outside, the sun beaming down on his glum, weary face. He is holding a piledriver, as in the tool, not the wrestling maneuver. He is flanked by Black Angus, his surly Scottish manager, and Robbie Bourbon Bob Whiskey, the lovable that he is, both of whom are holding hoes, as in the tool, not the person who gets paid for sexy times.

Uh, A-Angus, what are we d-doing out here?

Gittin sum sunsheen laddie, ye gut quite de task cummin up, lerd knews whut keend uff loonaticks wul shew up.

I know it's sunny, but why are we holding these tools?

Yill see, lad, yill see.

Well, what should I do to prepare for the big battle royale?

Bob and Angus glance at each other and shrug. Angus pulls a gallon bottle of rail whiskey from under his kilt, removes the cap, and takes a swig. After wiping his mouth, he looks at Jackie.

Survive, lad, survive. Tik na prisnars, slide oot the buttom roop if ye need ta, dunna worry about gettin' all de eliminations, jus' get the las' wun, ya kin?

I, uh, I guess I get it, but is there anything more specific you could tell me?

Well, the secret I found...

A squirrel runs past. As it does, Bob loses his train of thought and takes off after it, swinging his hoe madly.

GET BACK HERE YOU PRICK!

Angus laughs and pulls the bottle of whiskey out of his taint or wherever.

Angus, I think that guy has problems...

As Jackie utters this, Bob comes charging back into view, running in the opposite direction with a look of terror on his face.

LEAVE ME ALONE, THIS ISN'T FAIR!

Bob, still flailing his hoe around, is now being run down by 40 squirrels, holding a machete and, in a rather biblical turn of events, the jawbone of an ass. Samson eat your heart out.

Angus, I need a new sparring partner, that guy is a little wiggy.

Aye, but un of de best aroun'.

Bob runs back into view directly behind Angus and Jackie and is overcome by the 40 squirrels, all of whom tackle the corpulent Bob to the ground as Bob writhes, probably in both agony and ecstasy.

No, Angus, I need someone who doesn't get beat up by 40 squirrels every so often.

Welp, de groop we ur meetin' tadee might help widdat.

The camera turns and shows a school bus pull up. The doors open, and a group of adults begin to exit. Some are carrying bags, some are carrying more landscaping tools, some are carrying coolers.

And that's when an angel steps off the bus.

Long flowing hair, big bright eyes, and as per the norm, a massive set of boobs. Major league yabbos. The woman is distinctly racktacular. Jackie's jaw drops as he watches her get off, as in depart, not have an orgasm. Angus snickers.

Lewks like quite de sparring partner dere, lad!

She's amazing! I, uh, I have to, um...

Play it cewl, lad, be easy. Lit her cum to ye.

Who are these people, anyways?

A man approaches, obviously in charge as evidenced by the fact he's not carrying a damn thing (management has its perks). He is wearing a name tag that reads Chet.

Hi, I'm Chet, are you Angus?

Chet sticks his hand out to shake, however with his digits creating a horizontal plane, not vertical. Angus sticks his hand out to shake like a regular person and Chet makes a queer face, queer as in befuddled, not as in homosexual.

That's not how we do things.

Chet reaches out and twists Angus's hand to accept his. Angus makes a queer face, though with Angus it may be slightly homosexual.

Angus, Mr. Peppers, we of the Flat Earth Society appreciate you lending your brand of celebrity to our cause today.

Woah, Flat Earth Society?

I know, you must be very excited to be associated with us, debunking the falsehoods of the rounded earth theory. Our ancestors knew secrets we don't, Mr. Peppers, and the Illuminati, Facebook, Social Justice Warriors, Christian Conservatives, and their ilk all try to propagate the silly idea that the world is not flat.

Um...

All will be explained at our barbecue here today.

Jackie turns and glances at the beauty he was agog with earlier, and she is staring at him. Both look away, the girl with a coy smile, Jackie looking like he's on the verge of a heart attack.

Mr. Angus, I am glad you brought some tools to help us with the ceremonies. Please excuse me, I have other things to prepare.

As Chet turns and walks away, Angus pulls his whiskey out and hits it. He offers it to Jackie.

I, uh, that girl...

Dat gurl is a flat earth believer, Jackie me bye. Ye kin seal de deal wit little effort widdat one.

I, ooooh, I don't know Angus.

Angus rolls his eyes and puts his whiskey away.

Lewk, lad, dat sweet fine lass believes in fairy tales and rubbish, jus' tell her yew dun like the round earth society, bounce yer dick off a' dem knockers, give'r a pearl necklace.

B-But, what if I really like her...

Pssht.

Angus yanks his whiskey bottle out from under his kilt. As he does, two bowling balls and a hockey stick fall to the ground, followed by the report of a huge fart. The fart causes Angus's eyes to cross. Jackie recoils.

Lewk, lad, dat girl ain't de un. D'ye believe de earth is flat?

What? N-no! Only an idiot thinks the world is flat, what is this, the dark ages?

Zactly, lad, zactly. Dunnah be fallin' fer sum lil' piece of tumble and spurt in a short skirt dat idn't right in de head.

You aren't right in the head.

Haw!

Angus takes a slug of his whiskey and slaps Jackie on the back.

Yer learnin'! Good on ye!

Chet and the rest of the flat earthers, having set up a picnic area behind Bob Whiskey, still wrestling with 40 squirrels, approach Angus and Jackie.

Gentlemen, we're ready to get started. Hamburgers should be ready in about thirty minutes.

Do you have any hot dogs?

Chet scowls at Bob.

We don't have "hot dogs", sir. They simply aren't flat.

Chet, who literally used air quotes when saying hot dogs, as though they were hypothetical, forces a pompous laugh, along with a few other flat earthers. The beauty bites her lower lip as she and Jackie make eye contact again. Angus notices and elbows Jackie in the ribs.

Yer in de money, lad, now get in de panties.

Shh!

Jackie's eyes bulge from their sockets, and the beautiful lady giggles. As she does, Chet and his crew start to pile globes.

Uh, Chet, what are you doing with those?

These are lies, Mr. Peppers. Falsehoods spread by the liberal, conservative, and moderate media. We intend to destroy these pieces of propaganda thoroughly.

A random flat earther starts the massive bonfire of globes, the sight of the world burning, or a bunch of the worlds burning, leaving Jackie making a queer face, queer as in perplexed, not as in befuddled nor homosexual.

Alright, let's get started!

The flat earthers all grab landscaping implements and take to the fields around them, finding mounds, ditches, holes, or stumps and setting to the task of flattening their surroundings. Jackie carries his piledriver, stepping over Bob Whiskey, who seems to have several of 40 squirrels in assorted tickle holds and vice versa, and walks towards the gorgeous woman he saw earlier. She reminds you of your second crush, the kind you had after you realized the first was a fool's errand, her cleavage jiggling like mad as she holds a clothes iron plugged into a generator to the ground, scoring the grass. Scoring as in burning, not as in having coitus.

Uh, hi, I'm Jackie.

Hehe. I know. I love the XWF. I'm Laquandisha.

Oh, heh. Laquandisha. I like that name.

Heh, thank you. Do you want to help?

Uh, how?

Well, just take that big tool of yours, find a few mounds, and smash it until you're satisfied.

Laquandisha grins innocently as Jackie's eyes shoot straight at her chesticles.

B-But, Laquandisha, I need to tell you something.

What's that?

The earth, it's...

With a loud 'fwoosh' the entirety of the globes catch fire, and the cooking team representing flat earth put a big flat grill across the flames. The flame makes Laquandisha's eyes glow as she looks on in joy. She turns back to Jackie.

What about the earth? Would you like to go on our cruise to the edge of the earth, Jackie? We will set sail, see the tip, and come back.

Uh, about that, Laquandisha, the earth isn't flat, it's round! These guys are all crazy!

Angus rushes up, clearing his throat very loudly along the way.

Nye, nye, nye, nah ye didna! Jackie, stop jokin' wit de lass...

It's not a joke, Angus! The world is round! We didn't have to go into space to learn that, we knew it for centuries, and these people need the truth!

The flat earthers all turn and stare at Jackie. Chet steps forward.

Heretic. We will stop you and your lies!

With that, the flat earthers all charge Jackie. Flat earthers weilding hoes, shovels, pavers, and other landscaping equipment. Jackie drops the piledriver he'd been carrying and runs at Chet. We fade out.


As we fade back in, we see Jackie surrounded by all the flat earthers, all flat, all on the earth, and there's a crazed look in Jackie's eye. He turns to Laquandisha, who looks terrified.

La-La-Laquandisha, I, uh...

Angus walks up to Laquandisha.

D'na worry about de lad, missy, he's a fightin' machine, he thought he was here to spar wit yer friends and was only funnin'.

Laquandisha looks at Angus like he was the savior she always needed.

Oh, thank you...

M'names Angus, but yew kin cull me Blackie.

Blackie. I like it. Would you like to spray your semen on my massive, firm, and youthful breasts?

Yep. Less gew.

Laquandisha stands, turns off her clothes iron and disengages her generator. She and Angus frolic off into the bushes.

Tole ya, lad.

Jackie, catching his breath, looks around at the mess of beat up flat earthers, and watches as Laquandisha goes to have any of seven different STDs splattered all over her chest.

Oh, shit.

Jackie slumps. As he does, 40 squirrels, having had their way with Bob Whiskey, who is snoring on the ground, attack Jackie.]]>