<![CDATA[X-treme Wrestling Federation - Relentless Day 1 RP Board 2021]]>

<![CDATA[X-treme Wrestling Federation - Relentless Day 1 RP Board 2021]]> https://xwf1999.com/ Sat, 16 May 2026 21:16:05 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[War can be fun. If you want it to be.]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41944 Thu, 23 Sep 2021 23:58:59 -0700 Bianca McBride]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41944 "The name of this event is Relentless. Fitting for that what I am going to have to be to win this match. It used to be a four-way match but it was changed. I guess Sonya bitched out or was put in a deep dark jail cell. Who knows? Who cares? I sure as fuck don't. No, my opponents Tara Fenix and Elijah Martin. Tara I know. She is no push over and when she steps into that ring. She can be a tough one to handle but that doesn't mean I can't deal with her. Outta the two. She will be the one to watch out for. I believe her words. When she speaks. You can tell she means business. Elijah on the other hand. I can't stand to hear him speech. It takes all of my focus just to watch one of his promos."

"Is that a little dickish to say? Sure but that doesn't change the fact it's a true statement. Elijah Martin. I don't give two fucks where you came from. That's great the streets didn't eat you up but you just being some street guy doesn't mean a damn thing to me. Why should it? I'm going to beat your ass harder than what the streets you came from. You want to be a gangster, then get the fuck outta here or you can shut the fuck up and step into that ring as a wrestler."

"Tara, you on the other hand. I know you're a real pro. I know when I step into that ring on Friday. It's going to be a war. Now that doesn't mean it can't be fun. I know I'm going to have fun. So fight me with everything you got Tara. You're going to need to bring your A game. This is a fight to be next in line for the belt. So I'll be there waiting for the both. War comes this Friday. Let's have some fun?"]]> "The name of this event is Relentless. Fitting for that what I am going to have to be to win this match. It used to be a four-way match but it was changed. I guess Sonya bitched out or was put in a deep dark jail cell. Who knows? Who cares? I sure as fuck don't. No, my opponents Tara Fenix and Elijah Martin. Tara I know. She is no push over and when she steps into that ring. She can be a tough one to handle but that doesn't mean I can't deal with her. Outta the two. She will be the one to watch out for. I believe her words. When she speaks. You can tell she means business. Elijah on the other hand. I can't stand to hear him speech. It takes all of my focus just to watch one of his promos."

"Is that a little dickish to say? Sure but that doesn't change the fact it's a true statement. Elijah Martin. I don't give two fucks where you came from. That's great the streets didn't eat you up but you just being some street guy doesn't mean a damn thing to me. Why should it? I'm going to beat your ass harder than what the streets you came from. You want to be a gangster, then get the fuck outta here or you can shut the fuck up and step into that ring as a wrestler."

"Tara, you on the other hand. I know you're a real pro. I know when I step into that ring on Friday. It's going to be a war. Now that doesn't mean it can't be fun. I know I'm going to have fun. So fight me with everything you got Tara. You're going to need to bring your A game. This is a fight to be next in line for the belt. So I'll be there waiting for the both. War comes this Friday. Let's have some fun?"]]> <![CDATA[visita al hospital]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41943 Thu, 23 Sep 2021 23:54:50 -0700 Latina Submission Machina]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41943 BEEEEEEP

BEEEEEEEEP

BEEEEEP

I thought she had months left!

LSM yells at the short and stout doctor. The pair stand directly next to the bedside of Robyn’s mother. The elderly woman is hooked up to all sorts of tubes and wires. An oxygen mask lays on top of her pale face. Robyn holds desperately onto her sickly mother’s hand.

You said she was responding well to treatment! You said she might be able to travel to my shows soon!

Her condition changed rapidly. These things do happen…

They shouldn’t!

Robyn turns towards her faltering mother. A few soft tears dripped down Robyn’s unmasked face as she clutched her mother’s frail hand.

She’s the strongest woman I’ve ever known, she can fight through this. She has never submitted in her career.

I don’t think it will be that simple…...

Robyn releases her mother’s hand and turns around in a fury.

You don’t know anything about mi madre, she can make it through this!

Ma’am I just want you to be prepared for the worst case sce-

Just get out!

The doctor raises his hands in acquiescence as he backs out of the room.

I’ll give your family some private time.

The doctor leaves the room and shuts the door behind him. As soon as the door shuts Robyn stomps her foot into the ground out of frustration.

You’re just like your padre. He never liked doctors either….

What was his name?

Robyn turned back with a teary eye to face her mother, who was struggling with everything she had to maintain consciousness. Robyn rubbed her runny nose against the sleeve of her green sweater before she wiped her hands off on her blue jeans.

Nikolai Charmos. That’s what he went by at the time, at least. He was a loverboy…..

Did you want to see him...one last-

What the hell are you talking about? You’ve always said he was an asshole!

I mean, I never knew him. I just didn’t like that he left you the way he did...but if you want to see hi-

It’s not about me, Robyn!

But your healt-

Worry about Little Dick Oswald’s health….specifically, on depleting it! That's more important!

Robyn snorted in laughter at her mother's sick dig. LSM rubbed the sleeve of her sweater against her moist nose.

I don’t think I’ll have to worry too much about that. It seems to come naturally to me!

You are your mother’s daughter!

And Oswaldo might as well be your grandson the way I treat him in the ring! The last time I wanted his championship belt I made him pass out in his own drool. I hate to cross that line and go that far with anybody, but Oswaldo really deserved it! He's a no good hombre, and that's why I'm excited to do it to him again! He doesn't deserve to represent the brand of Anarchy, CCP didn't even think he deserved to represent BOBELITE!

The two Gonzalez women share a smile and a chuckle. A few sweet moments go by before the woman in the bed goes into a coughing fit.

*HACK* *HACK* *HACK*

Oh no....

Robyn rubbed her mother’s shoulder with concern. Her mother coughed up blood, leaving a bit of red spittle dripping down her chin. Robyn’s mother looked up at her before crossing her eyes, opening her mouth wide, and speaking in a grizzled tone.

Do you honestly believe you can beat me? Do you have what it takes to beat me?

Oh, madre! Your Oswaldo impression is amazing! You must’ve watched his promos for the billion dollar belt? I’d show it to you now, but I’m getting it rebranded in YOUR image! I’m going to dedicate the belt to you, and to all of Mexico! We’re going to add a little bit of latina heat to Oswaldo’s boyhood dream!

I’m sure he’ll think that’s very sweet of you.

The two women share another smile, although the mother’s smile is painfully forced and drizzled in red.

What was it he said…...You aren't walking out of Savage as the new Billion Dollar Champion. This title will never leave my fucking waist. I will defend this title with all my being and all my heart, just as I would the Anarchy Championship title……..JAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJAJA!

Jajajaajajaja! Lucky for me Oswaldo is a man of his word: we know this because he says so himself! Oswaldo defended his old belt against me with all his being and all his heart. When we face off again Oswaldo will have nothing left in his bag of tricks to throw at me. I’ve seen his moves and tactics firsthand and while they are formidable, they are no match for my agility and technique! I hope Oswaldo fights with all his being and all his heart again, because if he does there’s no way I can lose! If he’s not going to grow another heart before Relentless he’s going to be in big, big trouble!

Don’t be so hasty! I heard you did so much damage to his arm that he’s starting a whole replication protocol to regrow his bones in time to fight you again. I wouldn’t count a synthetic heart out of the equation!

He’s going to need maybe three or four more hearts worth of fight in him to stop me from taking his final belt. I wonder if this is a reverse Thanos situation…..if I remove the last belt from around Oswaldo’s waist, will his career collapse into dust?

I sure hope so, honey. His segments make me want to turn Anarchy off. Please, sweetheart…...go out there and win that Anarchy Championship for me? I think it will be the last title I get to see you win…

LSM’s mother looked up with hopeful eyes and a warm smile. Robyn sniffled as she nodded her head. The two women hugged as the camera slowly faded to black.

I promise you I’ll win, madre. I’ll win the Anarchy Championship for you.

]]> BEEEEEEP

BEEEEEEEEP

BEEEEEP

]]> <![CDATA[Shimmering Destruction]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41940 Thu, 23 Sep 2021 21:35:48 -0700 Lycana]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41940

Out of the shadows I've come to make my name
Ready for battle cause I got a throne to claim
Think that I'll crumble, I'll show you your mistake
When you see me coming better run for cover
'Cause I'm not slowing down
I'm never going under
I survived the pain, I know it made me stronger
So meet the monster
I came to CONQUER

__________________________________________________________________

”Almost there. Betsy Granger announces to her companions, and what a strange mix it was.

Sitting around the control console quietly were Lycana, Jim Caedus, and Ahsoka Tano, all of whom had just escaped a strange, parallel version of 1920s Chicago. The girls were quick to get back in their tactical catsuits, earning them a whistle from Jimmy when they reentered the main cabin. Lycana rolled her eyes and sat down on the bench next to Betsy’s chair. Betsy approached Ahsoka, who was studying some of the crystals contained in one of the crates.

”What do you suppose he wanted them for?” Betsy inquires for the hundredth time. This earns her a look of consternation from her friend.

“Your guess is as good as mine, Betsy. Whatever Thrawn was doing, Palpatine wasn’t far behind whispering his orders.” Ahsoka turns her eyes to Betsy. “You and Lycana ending up there was no accident.”

“I didn’t think so either.” Lycana says softly from behind them.

Betsy and Ahsoka turn to the sapphire minx and regard her curiously. “How much have you informed her of the situation?” Ahsoka asks of Betsy.

”She knows what we know; and whatever you know, we both need to know. So whatever you have to say about Thrawn, Palps, and the Empire, can be said out loud.” Betsy says firmly, stepping to stand next to Lycana.

A momentary flicker of amusement crosses Ahsoka’s face as she studies the two women before her. They gaze steadily back at her, waiting on bated breath to see if Ahsoka would spill anything. Fortunately for the Togruta, an alarm begins to blare from the console, alerting Betsy to their impending arrival. Betsy scrunches her nose and hurries over to begin the process of getting them through the thick atmosphere.

”Here we are, friends... Anch-To.”

As the words fill the room, Excellence begins to shake as she’s pulled in by Anch-To's strong gravitational pull. Betsy twirls around the panel, slamming levers while keeping hold of a steering wheel. Everyone else secures themselves, having experienced a rough landing at least once at this point. With practiced expertise, Betsy navigates Excellence through the thick, turbulent clouds and breaks through to the luscious green island below. The hard part over, Excellence materializes happily on a sunny spot within a small, empty village filled with curved stone huts. There is an audible sigh of relief from Jimmy, Lycana, and Ahsoka as Excellence bumps gently against the rock and stills.

“Ace piloting there, girlie.” Jimmy calls out, hopping to his feet and racing down the bridge towards the doors.

Before Betsy can call out for him to stop, Caedus swings the doors open wide and runs out into the brilliant sunlight. Lycana’s own curiosity gets the better of her and with an apologetic glance back to Betsy and Ahsoka, she lets out a rare giggle and rushes out of the ship as well. The Impossible Traveler chuckles as she and Ahsoka walk across the bridge together and peer out of the doors into the bright sunlight.

The luscious green island hid a dangerously rocky terrain that could... and would for that matter... trip up the most experienced of climbers. As breathtakingly beautiful as it was deadly, the jutted, mountain island was a place of peace and meditation for those who felt lost...

“The birthplace of the Jedi Order.” Ahsoka says in a whisper, finishing Betsy’s thought.

”It’s beautiful here...” Betsy replies quietly. Ahsoka nods her head as they exit the ship and begin to walk around the ruins of the village. ”Oh wow... Can you feel that?” Betsy asks breathlessly as a rush of power flows through her.

“The Force is strong here.” Ahsoka says, tipping her head towards Lycana and Jimmy, who were both exploring different sections of the area. “Even they can feel it.”

The breeze blew her hair back, sending the long tendrils spiraling in the air as Lycana lifted her face to the sun... Was it the same sun? She didn’t know, but she allowed the warmth to pour across her skin, soothing, comforting. At full odds with nearly electric zing of... whatever it was that coursed through her from the moment she had bounded from Excellence, following close on Caedus’ heels. The impact of the invisible feeling had left her reeling in it, yet unable to explain just what, exactly, it was she was feeling.

This whole trip had been an experience of new for her, between this new jolt of... whatever, and the sweet caress of the song from her crystal, her world had been shaken up to the core. Her fingers slide up the smooth fabric covering her thigh to find the soft velveteen bag hanging from her belt that currently housed the stunning indigo piece. She feels the shape and weight of it, still stunned that it was hers. Something about watching the color change right before her eyes... there were no words.

Lycana shifts into motion, glancing over at the two speaking in the doorway of Excellence as she goes, wading through the thick, knee-high grasses that parted obligingly for her as she trudges along. She would have to put in a lot of work to prove that she was worthy of it. Ahsoka seemed only to see the very worst parts of her... though that wasn’t too different from most people in the XWF. A slow smile curves her lips. She had not done much to dissuade that either to be honest. Still grinning, her eyes shift, and lock with a pair of glacial blue ones, and her smile falters a little.

A couple dozen yards away, perched on a boulder, was a man she had not expected to be willing to rescue her.

Now that her mind was clear, she rolled over Caedus’ words. He would have saved her even if it was just her. The inner part of her that had experienced his attack in the 24/7 hall, reminding her of the pointed barbs and jeers randomly put about her within his promos, simply rebelled at the notion... but he had sounded so earnest. And he HAD come... regardless if it was more for Betsy, and he had saved her. And so, she owed him.

Again.

She offers him a faint incline of her head, and one corner of his lip twitches in response, enjoying the byplay with the disgruntled werewolf. She wrinkles her nose up sassily and turns away, looking over the jagged hills and lush foliage that reminded her quite a bit of her own home, minus the forested part. Home... there was a lot of work to do before she got back there. She lets the wash of energy thunder through her as she scampers back towards Excellence.

***Few Hours' Time Jump***

After Jimmy insisted on doing the hunting for the women, the group sat down to dinner in one of the stone huts. They ate in silence for a bit, all of them hungry from the tasks they had all accomplished to make the place livable. After some heated discussion, they’d finally agreed – some more begrudgingly than others – to not split up, no matter how empty the island seemed. It was finally Lycana who broke the silence, setting down her silverware gently and folding her hands together over the table.

“I have questions.” She says simply, looking between Betsy and Ahsoka. Jimmy looks up from his porg stew, his eyes bouncing between the women as he continued to ladle spoonful's of the savory broth into his mouth.

“I may have answers; but be warned, you may not like some of what you hear.” Ahsoka says wanly, pushing her bowl away from her and leaning her arms against the table.

“This Admiral Thrawn guy... I know why he’s hunting Betsy down, but why is it so important that it’s her? No offense,” Lycana adds quickly, smiling weakly at her partner. “That’s not to say you wouldn’t make a desirable partner, but he’s got a universe of chicks to choose from. Why does it have to be Betsy?”

”When the Chiss make a pact, it’s usually because there’s already something they want out of it.” Betsy replies with a sigh, slumping into her chair. ”Choosing my parents to be his scientific liaisons was no accident- he wanted the deal to be made at any cost. There’s something about me that he wants, and he thought that was a sure-fire way to guarantee that he got it.” Betsy chortles without mirth. ”Jokes on him, I’ll never yield to his space-stalker ass. Problem is, he’s found a way to jump through the timeline to find me, and in doing so, informed his younger self of the situation. Now both are after me and it doesn’t matter to either which one gets me... As long as they do.”

“That’s... alarming on a lot of levels, but we’ll circle back to that when we need to. What does ANY of that have to do with me?” Lycana asks, her eyebrow cocked.

“On Earth, there are many legends that are told of siblings who represent dualities in life. Good and Evil, Dark and Light... It doesn’t matter what label you decide to slap on it, it all boils down to the same thing. You two are essentially two halves of the same whole somehow, and when that unity came through in its purest source, it sent a ripple through the universe. A calling card of sorts, to all those who would be on the lookout for such power to show itself.” Ahsoka smiles ruefully at Lycana. “Betsy has made many friends in her adventures; many civilizations owe their continued existence to her. Unfortunately, interfering in such affairs can earn you many enemies, and I’m afraid our Impossible One has an endless well of those.”

”So together, we become stronger?” Betsy asks slowly. She turns to Lycana, who is already looking at her with a grin on her face. ”I knew this team was a good idea.

“It also paints a bigger target on both of your backs.” Ahsoka says, her voice stern. “Thrawn must have known about this, it’s why he’s allowed you to continue with all of this instead of just taking you outright.” Betsy’s mouth drops indignantly, but Ahsoka quickly talks over any retort. “It’s true and you know it Betsy; you’re clever, but Thrawn is just as good and infinitely more ruthless about it. He’s biding his time, but I think that time has just come to an end.”

“You think he’ll make his move soon?” Lycana asks, caught up in her own mixed feelings of anger and fear.

Ahsoka gazes at Lycana for a moment before nodding her head. “It’s only a matter of time; our only advantage is he really seems to want Betsy for a bride. And until he figures out a way to harness your powers without harming you, he won’t deliberately put either of you in harm's way.”

“What a fucking gentleman.” Jimmy says, breaking his silence. The women all turn their heads towards him as he allows his spoon to clatter into his empty soup bowl. “What I’m hearing is that Admiral Fuckface won’t stop leaving these two alone until he’s put down permanently or he gets what he wants. Am I on the right track so far?”

“Indeed.” Ahsoka says stiffly, her face full of disapproval.

“Good, stay with me. If we could set up the right trap, we could get the job done ourselves and end all this cat and mouse bullshit for good.” His eyes blaze with intensity. “Then we can get the two of you focused on the tag team titles.”

“You say this as though I haven’t been focused on them this entire time.” Lycana retorts, turning mistrusting eyes to Jimmy.

“You haven’t had a partner like Bets, either.” Caedus replies flippantly, smiling when Lycana rounds on him. “Face it, if you and Marf had clicked the way you needed to in the ring, you could have had the belts off The Bastards months ago.”

”As fine an idea as that is Jimmy,” Betsy interjects loudly, noticing the sparks in Lycana’s eyes. ”Neither objective is as easy to defeat, as you know damn well. The Grand Admiral is tough and defeating him is going to take planning, lots of it. Until then, we handle our business with The Bastards... For now, explain to me how you ended up in all this.”

Jimmy fishes around his pocket and pulls out something hidden in his closed fist, with only a bit of silver chain hanging between his fingers. Betsy gasps when he opens his palm to reveal one of the peacock-blue stones she’d handed out earlier this year to those she’d considered allies. ”I didn’t think anyone actually kept these things.” Betsy confesses before her eyes widen and she glares at Jimmy. ”Come to think of it, I never gave you one. How did you get this?”

“I found it on the floor, I don’t know if it’s owner didn’t realize it was gone or chucked it away. Either way, I wouldn’t have noticed it, but I heard you calling to me when I was near it. I looked around and it was all I could find, but I could still hear you. So, I just held on to it, I figured it was some lucky trinket or some shit.” Jimmy holds it out to her, disappointment filling his eyes. “If you wanted this to go back to whoever you gave it too, I get it.”

With a gentle smile, Betsy closes his fingers over the stone and pushes his hand back to him. ”I think the stone found the person it was meant to be with. Hang on to that.”

“Fucking sweet, thanks! Anyway... The stone, when you and Ly were in trouble, I could hear you, like a distress beacon.” He slips the stone safely back into his pocket as he continues on. “A minute later, that ship of yours was materializing around me and carrying me off to that speakeasy you were trapped in. I landed just outside, which was where I ran into fucking Ahsoka Tano!”

“Once he’d calmed down enough to explain that to me, we stuck together to get the two of you out of there. I was already in the area; I had been for some time as I’d gotten a lead about the crystals from an anonymous source.” Ahsoka’s gaze sharpens at this. “It was convenient, actually... Too much so.”

”You mean, whoever tipped you off wanted to make sure we were found before any harm came to us. Betsy says, her voice full of wonder.

Lycana lets out a soft whistle as she forms the same conclusion as Betsy had. “Thrawn knew we were going to end up there... But why send you? He could have just come and got us himself.”

“He’s still unwilling to take either of you by force; I don’t know why, but we have to use that to our advantage for as long as we can.” With a sigh, Ahsoka stares down the girls. “I still don’t like the idea of teaching one so volatile any of the ways of the Force... But I can see the necessity.” Ahsoka rises abruptly from her chair. “We begin training in the morning.”

Without another word, Ahsoka exits the small hut to meditate more on her decision as the other three stare blankly at one another. Lycana finally breaks the silence, turning her eyes to Jimmy. “And what exactly will you be doing?”

Jimmy beams into her sour face. “I’ll be your personal fuckin’ cheerleader! Wait til’ you see me in my uniform!”

***The Next Morning***

The sun had long ago risen high over their heads, its heat causing Lycana and Betsy to be drenched in sweat as they sparred with one another all over the rocky mountainside. After dinner, they’d finished building Lycana’s lightsaber, which now glowed a vivid purple against the clear blue sky. Betsy’s own dual-ended magenta lightsaber whirled around as the more experienced wielder showed off her skills. As they worked, Ahsoka’s voice floated over the mountain to them, guiding them as she explained The Force to Lycana.

“Invisible to the naked eye, The Force is more of an energy field that surrounds, connecting all living beings within the universe. You felt it first when the crystal called to you, and you felt it again when you stepped off the ship onto this planet. Anch-To is strong with the Force, legend marks it as being the birthplace of the Jedi Order. Everything from the smallest pebble to the strongest wave is connected by the Force, and in time, the two of you will learn to use it at will.”

The mock battle rages on as the girls continue to swing their blades. Lycana, in a moment of confidence, springs forward on light feet as she thrusts her lightsaber outward. Betsy predicts the move and swiftly dodges, giving Lycana a gentle tap on her back to signify certain death. Frustration is evident in blue eyes as Lycana holds up a hand to catch her breath. Betsy turns off her weapon and sits down in the grass next to Lycana, nudging the other woman playfully.

”You’ll get it, Ly, but it takes practice. You can’t be perfect right away.”

“It’s not that... I thought I had a lot of the answers back on Earth, when the weird shit was usually caused by me.”

Betsy can’t help but let out a chuckle. ”Yeah, but who would ever imagine that all the wild shit we grew up watching would end up being based on reality?”

“That’s what I don’t get... How? Earthly legends always come from fact, but how did the minds who introduced science fiction on these levels know about...” Lycana gestures all around them. “It looks like Earth, but you can feel the difference. You can smell it in the waves and taste it in the air; we aren’t anywhere near Earth anymore. How did all those writers know all of this was out there?”

”Well... I suppose they discovered it the same way I did... The way you are. Someone from one of these worlds just happened to cross their path and the rest is history.” the Impossible Traveler smiles. ”I’d like to think our ancestors have been traveling through time and space for longer than we realize. First contact was made billions of years ago... Hell, who’s to say that humans were even the first species to habitate our little world.”

“I never thought of it that way.” Lycana says, her own wonder clear in her tone. “It’s just strange, getting a taste of just how big it all is out there and knowing that somehow, you and I play a significant part in all of it together.”

“Hey, whenever you gals are done with the gossip, I’ve got your next round of training for the day ready!” Jimmy’s voice cuts through their conversation, bringing it to an abrupt end. Exchanging an amused glance, the girls get to their feet and follow the lone male back towards the hut he’d turned into a dojo.

***Promo Time!***

”It’s a funny fucking thing, the way the two of you love to twist things around to suit yourselves. The hypocrisy that exudes from you reeks worse than the time the family dog got sprayed by a skunk.”

Betsy speaks from the shadows, peering out with green eyes, the only visible part of her.

”I understand that when you keep your heads as far up your asses as the two of you do, it’s easy to miss details the rest of us find glaring. It’s all good, that’s why Lycana and I are here to finally spell out the details, nice and slow and in a way you won’t soon forget.

Let's start with the fact that you seem stuck on the idea that Lycana and I had anything to do with the death of the Shooting Star division. The only person around here who was ever upset about that was Atara; what you have in front of you are two women who never wanted to get pigeon-holed into the “Vagina’s Only” club, no puns intended. Our bad, I guess that makes us gold-hungry whores who dare to dream of greater things for ourselves.

Too bad neither of us was starving enough to suck as much dick as the two of you to anyone who could offer you an iota of a benefit. Hey TK, how fast did you hit your knees when Page offered you that ten-dollar Walmart Gift Card and Quizno’s Sub? I know, you guys claim it was offered to attack Robert Main, but let's be real; ever since the payout, his cock has never left your lips. But that wasn’t enough, was it? You’ve securely made those pretty mouth of yours Bobby Bourbon’s personal gloryhole; how lucky for you that it turned out to be a two-way service.

Perhaps that has something to do with the fact that I wouldn’t touch either one of you with a ten-foot pole. With somebody ELSES ten-foot pole; fucking hell, and you say Ly and I are the unfuckable ones? I think you mean unable to be fucked with, especially by a pair of walking poster boys for abstinence. It’s a joke that either one of you would pass judgment on someone’s fuckability when you act the way you do looking how you do. I’ve been offered more pussy than you’ve collectively ever been near, and that’s just a normal Thursday. It’s the curse of being this charming, talented, and drop-dead gorgeous, the rats just line up like soldiers on leave. The two of you couldn’t even woo your way into the burger wrapper home of a sewer mouse.

The idea that Them No Good Bastards are anything but an over glorified side act is laughable by now.

Do you want to know why these companies want to bring you in and put their tag belts on you? Because every good circus has a pair of clowns for comedic relief and you two couldn’t fit the bill better. They watched XWF and realized it wasn’t talent that got you over, it was the way the world paid to laugh at you in person as you stumbled your way around a ring. Nothing you two do is in your control; you couldn’t even turn down a script that was handed to you as a gag. It’s how I figured out how cheap Them No Good Bastards truly came around here.

Personally, I wouldn’t waste a perfect good banana to throw at you two buffoons.”

Betsy smirks slightly as she leans forward.

”Hey Bobby, remember not so long ago when you described that perfect date? You poured your stupid heart out to the world, admitting what a dime piece I am. It’s okay to backtrack, that’s all You Bastards are actually good at. I just wanted to let you know that while I’m flattered, there was never a chance in hell I would consider you. Have you seen what I go home to, what idiot in her right mind would trade down James Raven for Bobby Bourbon?

And speaking of him...

If you guys really thought I sold out my own ‘husband’ and friends before, wait until you catch this next line I drop. Are you ready?

Hey Mainy, back off. If you want Them No Good Bastards, that’s fine by me. Just don’t expect them to be carrying the tag belts when you finish off what’s left of them after Relentless.”

Betsy laughs scornfully.

”My squad is fully aware of my position and backs me on this. I wouldn’t expect either one of you to have noticed this, as your usual habit of missing the point is kicking in again. We all have a mission at Relentless and there’s no need to drag Raven or Warstein back into this again. How many times do they need to slap you around for you to realize that the results will never change? I guess fanbois just love feeling special. But dear me, I’ve spent a lot of time just jawing away at you two fuckwits; there’s somebody else here who has a few closing statements before we meet you in the center of that cage to sizzle you Porky’s reject mother fuckers like bacon.”

Lycana’s eyes appear from the shadows, followed by her smirking ruby lips.

“Oh my goodness Betsy... did you know I left Marf to train for his match while I... Trained for mine?!”

Betsy gasps.

”Say it isn't so!”

Lycana nods, pulling off an amazingly realistic sad face.

“I did... I did go off and train for my own match. You know, putting some effort into it....

Unlike the Bastards did leading up to that twelve man tag match y’all had. Did you see the pitiful shit they offered leading up to it? Talk about zero effort supporting your own faction... They talk so much shit now about Page and BoB, but maybe they were the ones getting the boot out of the group instead of wanting to go off on their own. I wouldn’t be surprised... They do like to twist things for their own narratives. I say that often enough... Usually without checking facts.

Speaking of that, let's creep back into that Shooting Star division, shall we?

I never wanted that belt.

Why would I give half a shit about the death of the women’s division, when I never wanted to be stuck within it, facing the same people over and over, in the first place? Let us just disregard the dozens of times I said I was not interested- probably how TK handles most women's rejection- and pretend you never noticed it. How about we get into the time I was put in a match for it. Do you happen to remember what occurred during my shot at that very strap in a three way?

No, of course you don’t... because you don’t pay attention or do any fucking research whatsoever.

I bowed out.

I fucking took apart Ash Quinn and left her laying, and then strolled my ass over to the corner, and braided my fucking hair.

Really seems that I had a lady boner for the title, huh?

Too bad you boys couldn’t you know... learn some facts before you tried to spew nonsense.

You should really just stick to the He-Man we are bad mofo’s who are gonna whip your ass grr grr stuff... you are oh sooooooo talented at that. Pretty much all your shit is that anyway.

Empty threats and hot air.

But at least they said my name in OCW... And you didn’t Betsy... how dare you!?”

Lycana yawns, showing just how devastated she was by the news. Betsy falls to her knees before Lycana and bows her head.

”Dearest Lycana, I beg you with all of my heart to forgive me. How selfish and unthoughtful of me to mention you... In a company where maybe a handful of people will know who you are. And all of them XWF.

Oh, do you boys think that’s a slight against my girl here? You silly rabbits, the ignorance of OCW to Lycana’s existence is going to be fleeting. What need have I to mention her there when it’s clear that XWF talent aren’t exactly welcome at the moment? We aren’t chasing the tag belts over there and she has little to do with my TransAtlantic Championship, sooooo....

It seems to me you boys are grasping as some rather shoddy straws again.

What a fucking shocker.”

Betsy rolls her eyes dramatically.

”Lycana’s name is only just starting to spread outside of the XWF; a crime, I admit, and one that I’m guilty of aiding in. But as you can see, the lady in question is perfectly capable of making herself heard through the mindless chatter. Heads are beginning to turn, hell, she’s even found her own Blue-Locked Brethren via the ol’ Twitter Machine. I’d say things are starting to look up for our fair-skinned minx, and not a bit of it had to do with me hyping her up.

How about that?

But since you two are sooooooo worried about my ability to be a team player, let me assure you, here and now, that my intentions are pure as fresh winter snow. Neither Lycana nor I carry one or the other; we push each other upward and onward. If you really thought that we haven’t been in cahoots long enough to be ready to face the two you, I suggest you go back through this year's tapes and look again. The writing was always on the wall between us and you’d either have to blind or a blithering idiot to miss the notes.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot who I was addressing.”

Her lips quirk upward.

”I also hear through the grapevine that you two plan to tuck tail and dip when you lose the belts to us. Classic Bastards, jumping ship to whoever is willing to pander to you the most. Funny thing is, I don’t see Theo Pryce OR Vinnie Lane fighting overly hard to convince you guys to stick around.

I guess the only weight the Bastards pull around the XWF is in their waistbands. We won’t talk about how they’ve been faithfully carrying BoB around like trained dogs this entire time. They wouldn’t see it that way anyway. Oh well, I doubt Miss Fury or Chris Page are fighting any harder than Vinnie and Theo to keep the Bastards around, either.

You may as well just take your leave, you worthless sacks of shits; and I hope the door hits every inch of your wide loads on the way out.”

Laughing, Betsy temporarily disappears into the shadows, allowing Lycana the spotlight to herself.

“You know boys... I might not be signed over there in OCW. The roster might not know my name... but they will soon enough. Not only as half of the team that toppled Them Whiny Ass Bitches, and sent them fleeing like the flea bitten mongrels they are... But as the one who put yet another tick mark in the XWF column in the little battle going on versus the feds when I take on Ciela Luiz on my fellow BlueSquadron member, Tara Fenix’s charity cruise.

Good on you for being proactive though...

At least you did one thing right.”

Lycana tilts her head, her long lapis hair falling in a riot down over her shoulder as she takes on a rather pensive look, her finger coming up to tap at her bottom lip.

“You know what's been on my mind for a couple weeks now?

You both praise yourself as the high and mighty, rulers of your own destiny, taking no shit from anybody who might sling it your way. Absolute paragons who destroy any and all who dare come for the Bastards and tell them what to do.

Ruthlessly shredding anybody who would deign themselves worthy enough to step up to the Bastards and try to discourage them from whatever they put their mind to.

Except when you are proving that you two are nothing but a pair of bitches with no balls. Oh yes... here I come with even more proof.

Are you boys enjoying this? I’m enjoying this!”

Lycana looks over at Betsy who grins her affirmation.

“Do you Bastards remember what you were wailing about in the Savage hype cycle? The whole making an appearance in the promotional package put together by ApexLegacy? Where umm... you were ‘forced’ into a fat suit- and let's be fucking real here Bourbon... that was just you, you didn’t need a damn fat suit... and pretend to be hurt by Bets? Where you apparently had to read a script provided to you by Jim Caedus? Where you didn’t get paid a damn dime to do exactly what you were told... and how to do it... by the very people you would be facing off in that ring against?

Like a couple of leashed pets.

Let me get this straight...You just meekly bowed down and agreed to do whatever the fuck ApexLegacy ordered you to do, and you want me to visualize you as an all-powerful, dominating force?!”

A musical peel of laughter escapes her, causing Betsy to giggle as well, her emerald eyes glittering with mirth.

“You are telling me... that the big bad Bastards are too fucking pitiful to say NO?!

You just... obeyed what was expected of you, and performed like a couple of well-trained circus monkeys in your OPPONENTS promo... against... YOURSELF.

For free.

Sounds to me like you really are nothing but a pair of bitches... owned by whoever wishes it.

Is that really all it takes to get you guys to do something? Is it really that easy to harness your will and lead you around by the empty sacks you call balls? Is that all it takes to get you to do whatever is wanted of you?

A damn script?

Well... guess it’s a good thing there's one all written up nice and neat for Relentless. The script for the Main Event of night one has been etched and sealed, the way it will play out all set-in stone. I’d like to think it is a masterpiece, gloriously penned by Betsy and myself, perfected... and all you two assholes have to do is show up in the ring.

We will handle the rest.

And the titles?

As good as fucking ours.”

***Hours Later in the Dojo***

“Trust in your feelings. Use them to guide you; let the Force be your ears and eyes. When you trust in the Force, nothing is out of reach. But mind your feelings. Anger. Aggression. These lead to the Dark Side.”

Despite herself, Ahsoka looks sideways at Lycana, who was busy fending off Caedus in the center of a hand-crafted, makeshift ring. Lycana doesn’t notice in her efforts to subdue Jimmy, but Betsy catches it and glares over at her friend. Ahsoka looks at her blankly, crouching low and inviting Betsy to attack. Unwilling to be baited in, Betsy backs away on light feet, only to be caught up in a scoop slam by Jimmy. Lycana gasps and attempts to retaliate, but Ahsoka is ready and catches her with ease using the Force, stilling the blue-haired vixen in her tracks.

“Sloppy. Both of you have been in tag matches before, why is it so hard for you to work together right now? Fucking hell.” Jimmy runs a hand through his hair as Betsy and Lycana regroup.

”Piss off, Jimmy, we’re trying here.” Betsy growls.

“Trying won’t win you the tag team titles. Trying won’t help you defeat Admiral Blue Balls when he comes knocking to collect what he wants from you guys.” Jimmy glances over at Ahsoka.

“I wouldn’t use those exact words, but I do echo the point behind them. If you two don’t find a way to focus your connection in combat, all hope could be lost for us all.”

“Wait, what?” Lycana’s head spins at Ahsoka’s words. Betsy’s own eyes widen in surprise as her jaw drops.

“I’m speaking out of turn, don’t mind me. Let's start from the beginning and this time, don’t just trust in your feelings. Reach out to one another and read their feelings as well. Once you and your partner are in tune through the Force, you’ll be unstoppable.”

”Uh... You can’t just gloss over a line like that and not expect me to leave it alone, Ahsoka... What did you mean?”

“No more questions.” Jimmy says loudly and without warning, rushes forward, double clotheslining the girls.

They crash to the floor, both rolling instinctively towards one another. Their fingertips manage to brush and the moment they do, the world around them fades away as blinding white and smokey purple twists and writhes into one another. Ahsoka and Jimmy are forced back as a protective bubble forms around the two women, blocking them out from what was happening within...

… Inside, Betsy and Lycana cling to one another as they find themselves transported to a new world, unfamiliar even to Betsy. They seem to be dressed in ceremonial royal garb, surrounded by a group of singing priestesses who raise chalices full of fresh water above their heads. On either side of the royal chamber, a pair of older royals sit atop ornate thrones while a pair of younger nobles sit in a pair of decorated wood chairs in the middle. Everyone is dressed in brightly dyed robes and cool, thin gowns encrusted with gems.

The girls themselves were dressed in the same style dress; Betsy’s was lined with gold while Lycana’s was black lined with silver. Both of them sported golden torques around their necks. Lycana’s is engraved witih a pair of double crescent moons, met in the middle by a full moon made of a glowing moonstone. Betsy’s is designed with a trail of tiny stars etched into the same twisting design as Lycana’s, the two ends meeting at her throat, where a glowing sunstone is designed as a newly formed star. A high priestess stands between them, a hand atop both their heads as she lifts her face towards the sky, blessing the goddess.

“For too long, these two great houses have lived at war; and for too long, neither has been able to find peace, joy, or happiness within their worlds. So many centuries of senseless warfare that could have been resolved so long ago with one simple union. It is a blessing that it is in the wisdom of the Goddess that such a bond has finally been formed; a bond that has born the fruits of a peace that is foretold to last a thousand years.”

The singing of the priestesses gets louder as they begin to pour the water gently atop the girls. The high priestess moves her hand as she turns to the royals who are front and center.

“Look forth and witness what has blossomed from a love the four of you would have deemed impossible!” High Priestess gestures to the older royal pairs. “A pair of twins so pure in their demeanor and unrivaled in their beauty that the Goddess herself has cast her blessing upon them. Gifted they are, perfect compliments to one another. A most powerful force of nature.”

The girls turn to one another, momentarily lost in their world. Both seemed to act as though an invisible guide was leading them through the motions, getting through the ceremony as though it had been practiced a hundred times. After they are “bathed” by the blessed water of the Goddess, the maiden priestesses flock around them and begin to braid their wet hair, nimbly tying in wildflowers as they worked. As they hummed, the high priestess continued on.

“Tonight, under the light of the full moon, they hunt to bring down the Great Stag. Only together will they achieve what so many monks and druids have failed, as one they will share the Horned Crown that many a worthy monk, druid, and warrior before them could never claim. Powerful beings, only in their unity, long ago foretold of, your future has never been clearer. Tonight, on the name day that mark you as women... Become so.”

As they turn away from one another, the girls happen to roll apart, breaking the bond. As soon as the protective bubble disappears, Jimmy and Ahsoka rush to their sides, helping them both up to a sitting position.

“Yo, what the fuck was that?!” Jimmy exclaims, holding Lycana steady.

“I... We... Betsy, what the fuck was that?!” Lycana turns to Betsy, eyes wide.

“Uh... That was... Ahsoka, what the fuck was that?!” Now all three sets of eyes turn to the stoic Togruta who silently watches them.

“A bond through the Force the likes of which I’ve never seen.” Ahsoka muses in a quiet voice. “Did either of you share see anything?”

”A vision... but it felt more like a memory, something we lived out at some point.”

“It was so real...” Lycana murmurs. Jimmy pats her sympathetically on the shoulder.

Ahsoka nods, locking eyes with Betsy. “What happened in that vision?”

”Ly and I were surrounded by what looked like the Priestesses of Avalon, except it was definitely not on Earth. We were being blessed and sent out to hunt their... well, the Great Stag. Maybe it was a version of Avalon, but it wasn’t the one from Earth. Nothing about that felt... human.”

“It wasn’t Thrawn trying to pull us into something like the Candyland scenerio again, was it?” Lycana asks, her eyebrows furrowing and meeting in the middle.

Ahsoka shakes her head reassuringly. “Not possible; Thrawn isn’t Force sensitive, there’s no way he’d be able to use the bond against you. He wants to use it for himself, harness you both as a weapon of mass destruction.”

“Sounds like what we want to be against Them No Good Bastards.” Lycana quips, earning a giggle from Betsy.

“Do you two really think this is fucking funny? You’ve got Them Bastards wanting to take your fucking heads off and Admiral Fuckface trying to steal you guys for your powers. You need to focus and get back to work.” Jimmy says, his voice betraying his aggravation with the girls.

”Sorry Jimmy.” Betsy manages, pulling on Lycana’s arm gently and pulling her along to their side of the ring.

“What do you think this means, Bets?” Lycana asks quietly, pretending to retape her wrist in an attempt to stall.

”I’m not sure, but we won’t stop nosing around until we find out.” Betsy promises, turning as Jimmy clears his throat impatiently.

Together, the girls step forward, ready to take on the unusual team of Ahsoka Tano and Jim Caedus in mock combat...

****Final Thoughts****

”Once those cage doors shut and they turn the power on.... Only then will Them No Good Bastards realize how much more they bit off than they could possibly chew.

As their bodies writhe in pain against the cage, Lycana and I will swoop in and reestablish the tag division back to what it was truly meant to be.

A symbol of teamwork and comradery. The promise of riches through the power of teamwork and friendship. Before Them No Good Bastards, each of these teams operated with a code of honor; there was a respect towards these belts that the Bastards have thoroughly besmirched. Oh, no one ever doubts the depths of their alliance, if ever it were possible for two fiends to be genuine friends, the Bastards would be the shining example. But all empires crumble eventually; Lycana and I are ready to cross the Rubicon and take it all for ourselves.”

“This has been a long time coming... I have stepped up to the Bastards many times, each and every moment causing them pain savored, like the finest wine one could obtain. Each time, watching them limp from the ring battered and bruised, glorying in the hell I had put them through. Tomorrow night, will mark the biggest blow of all... a wound so deep, so devastating, that it rocks the entire wrestling world to its core.

The end of TNGB’s era as XWF Champions.

And a pair of well-placed boots in the ass sending them toppling from their perch as the ‘best’ tag team on that little list they adore so much.

Tomorrow marks the worst day in the life of the Bastards.

From the moment they hear the clang of that cage door. The jingle of the lock. The sizzle of the electricity being fired up. And the sounds of the bell... Their sharp descent into nothingness will begin. A world of hellfire and pain marking the time between that, and when the final slam of the ref's hand comes down... labeling them losers.

Marking them... as finished.”

”And as for a name? Don’t you boys worry about that.”

“What’s in a name? I know when it comes to ours, it says everything you need to know about us. Together, we are strong, unique, powerful beings...”

”...And come Relentless, Them No Good Bastards will be the first to taste the might of our combined wrath. Allow us to introduce ourselves properly, for we are...”

"IMPOSSIBLE ENTITY!"

]]>

Out of the shadows I've come to make my name
Ready for battle cause I got a throne to claim
Think that I'll crumble, I'll show you your mistake
When you see me coming better run for cover
'Cause I'm not slowing down
I'm never going under
I survived the pain, I know it made me stronger
So meet the monster
I came to CONQUER

__________________________________________________________________

”Almost there. Betsy Granger announces to her companions, and what a strange mix it was.

Sitting around the control console quietly were Lycana, Jim Caedus, and Ahsoka Tano, all of whom had just escaped a strange, parallel version of 1920s Chicago. The girls were quick to get back in their tactical catsuits, earning them a whistle from Jimmy when they reentered the main cabin. Lycana rolled her eyes and sat down on the bench next to Betsy’s chair. Betsy approached Ahsoka, who was studying some of the crystals contained in one of the crates.

”What do you suppose he wanted them for?” Betsy inquires for the hundredth time. This earns her a look of consternation from her friend.

“Your guess is as good as mine, Betsy. Whatever Thrawn was doing, Palpatine wasn’t far behind whispering his orders.” Ahsoka turns her eyes to Betsy. “You and Lycana ending up there was no accident.”

“I didn’t think so either.” Lycana says softly from behind them.

Betsy and Ahsoka turn to the sapphire minx and regard her curiously. “How much have you informed her of the situation?” Ahsoka asks of Betsy.

”She knows what we know; and whatever you know, we both need to know. So whatever you have to say about Thrawn, Palps, and the Empire, can be said out loud.” Betsy says firmly, stepping to stand next to Lycana.

A momentary flicker of amusement crosses Ahsoka’s face as she studies the two women before her. They gaze steadily back at her, waiting on bated breath to see if Ahsoka would spill anything. Fortunately for the Togruta, an alarm begins to blare from the console, alerting Betsy to their impending arrival. Betsy scrunches her nose and hurries over to begin the process of getting them through the thick atmosphere.

”Here we are, friends... Anch-To.”

As the words fill the room, Excellence begins to shake as she’s pulled in by Anch-To's strong gravitational pull. Betsy twirls around the panel, slamming levers while keeping hold of a steering wheel. Everyone else secures themselves, having experienced a rough landing at least once at this point. With practiced expertise, Betsy navigates Excellence through the thick, turbulent clouds and breaks through to the luscious green island below. The hard part over, Excellence materializes happily on a sunny spot within a small, empty village filled with curved stone huts. There is an audible sigh of relief from Jimmy, Lycana, and Ahsoka as Excellence bumps gently against the rock and stills.

“Ace piloting there, girlie.” Jimmy calls out, hopping to his feet and racing down the bridge towards the doors.

Before Betsy can call out for him to stop, Caedus swings the doors open wide and runs out into the brilliant sunlight. Lycana’s own curiosity gets the better of her and with an apologetic glance back to Betsy and Ahsoka, she lets out a rare giggle and rushes out of the ship as well. The Impossible Traveler chuckles as she and Ahsoka walk across the bridge together and peer out of the doors into the bright sunlight.

The luscious green island hid a dangerously rocky terrain that could... and would for that matter... trip up the most experienced of climbers. As breathtakingly beautiful as it was deadly, the jutted, mountain island was a place of peace and meditation for those who felt lost...

“The birthplace of the Jedi Order.” Ahsoka says in a whisper, finishing Betsy’s thought.

”It’s beautiful here...” Betsy replies quietly. Ahsoka nods her head as they exit the ship and begin to walk around the ruins of the village. ”Oh wow... Can you feel that?” Betsy asks breathlessly as a rush of power flows through her.

“The Force is strong here.” Ahsoka says, tipping her head towards Lycana and Jimmy, who were both exploring different sections of the area. “Even they can feel it.”

The breeze blew her hair back, sending the long tendrils spiraling in the air as Lycana lifted her face to the sun... Was it the same sun? She didn’t know, but she allowed the warmth to pour across her skin, soothing, comforting. At full odds with nearly electric zing of... whatever it was that coursed through her from the moment she had bounded from Excellence, following close on Caedus’ heels. The impact of the invisible feeling had left her reeling in it, yet unable to explain just what, exactly, it was she was feeling.

This whole trip had been an experience of new for her, between this new jolt of... whatever, and the sweet caress of the song from her crystal, her world had been shaken up to the core. Her fingers slide up the smooth fabric covering her thigh to find the soft velveteen bag hanging from her belt that currently housed the stunning indigo piece. She feels the shape and weight of it, still stunned that it was hers. Something about watching the color change right before her eyes... there were no words.

Lycana shifts into motion, glancing over at the two speaking in the doorway of Excellence as she goes, wading through the thick, knee-high grasses that parted obligingly for her as she trudges along. She would have to put in a lot of work to prove that she was worthy of it. Ahsoka seemed only to see the very worst parts of her... though that wasn’t too different from most people in the XWF. A slow smile curves her lips. She had not done much to dissuade that either to be honest. Still grinning, her eyes shift, and lock with a pair of glacial blue ones, and her smile falters a little.

A couple dozen yards away, perched on a boulder, was a man she had not expected to be willing to rescue her.

Now that her mind was clear, she rolled over Caedus’ words. He would have saved her even if it was just her. The inner part of her that had experienced his attack in the 24/7 hall, reminding her of the pointed barbs and jeers randomly put about her within his promos, simply rebelled at the notion... but he had sounded so earnest. And he HAD come... regardless if it was more for Betsy, and he had saved her. And so, she owed him.

Again.

She offers him a faint incline of her head, and one corner of his lip twitches in response, enjoying the byplay with the disgruntled werewolf. She wrinkles her nose up sassily and turns away, looking over the jagged hills and lush foliage that reminded her quite a bit of her own home, minus the forested part. Home... there was a lot of work to do before she got back there. She lets the wash of energy thunder through her as she scampers back towards Excellence.

***Few Hours' Time Jump***

After Jimmy insisted on doing the hunting for the women, the group sat down to dinner in one of the stone huts. They ate in silence for a bit, all of them hungry from the tasks they had all accomplished to make the place livable. After some heated discussion, they’d finally agreed – some more begrudgingly than others – to not split up, no matter how empty the island seemed. It was finally Lycana who broke the silence, setting down her silverware gently and folding her hands together over the table.

“I have questions.” She says simply, looking between Betsy and Ahsoka. Jimmy looks up from his porg stew, his eyes bouncing between the women as he continued to ladle spoonful's of the savory broth into his mouth.

“I may have answers; but be warned, you may not like some of what you hear.” Ahsoka says wanly, pushing her bowl away from her and leaning her arms against the table.

“This Admiral Thrawn guy... I know why he’s hunting Betsy down, but why is it so important that it’s her? No offense,” Lycana adds quickly, smiling weakly at her partner. “That’s not to say you wouldn’t make a desirable partner, but he’s got a universe of chicks to choose from. Why does it have to be Betsy?”

”When the Chiss make a pact, it’s usually because there’s already something they want out of it.” Betsy replies with a sigh, slumping into her chair. ”Choosing my parents to be his scientific liaisons was no accident- he wanted the deal to be made at any cost. There’s something about me that he wants, and he thought that was a sure-fire way to guarantee that he got it.” Betsy chortles without mirth. ”Jokes on him, I’ll never yield to his space-stalker ass. Problem is, he’s found a way to jump through the timeline to find me, and in doing so, informed his younger self of the situation. Now both are after me and it doesn’t matter to either which one gets me... As long as they do.”

“That’s... alarming on a lot of levels, but we’ll circle back to that when we need to. What does ANY of that have to do with me?” Lycana asks, her eyebrow cocked.

“On Earth, there are many legends that are told of siblings who represent dualities in life. Good and Evil, Dark and Light... It doesn’t matter what label you decide to slap on it, it all boils down to the same thing. You two are essentially two halves of the same whole somehow, and when that unity came through in its purest source, it sent a ripple through the universe. A calling card of sorts, to all those who would be on the lookout for such power to show itself.” Ahsoka smiles ruefully at Lycana. “Betsy has made many friends in her adventures; many civilizations owe their continued existence to her. Unfortunately, interfering in such affairs can earn you many enemies, and I’m afraid our Impossible One has an endless well of those.”

”So together, we become stronger?” Betsy asks slowly. She turns to Lycana, who is already looking at her with a grin on her face. ”I knew this team was a good idea.

“It also paints a bigger target on both of your backs.” Ahsoka says, her voice stern. “Thrawn must have known about this, it’s why he’s allowed you to continue with all of this instead of just taking you outright.” Betsy’s mouth drops indignantly, but Ahsoka quickly talks over any retort. “It’s true and you know it Betsy; you’re clever, but Thrawn is just as good and infinitely more ruthless about it. He’s biding his time, but I think that time has just come to an end.”

“You think he’ll make his move soon?” Lycana asks, caught up in her own mixed feelings of anger and fear.

Ahsoka gazes at Lycana for a moment before nodding her head. “It’s only a matter of time; our only advantage is he really seems to want Betsy for a bride. And until he figures out a way to harness your powers without harming you, he won’t deliberately put either of you in harm's way.”

“What a fucking gentleman.” Jimmy says, breaking his silence. The women all turn their heads towards him as he allows his spoon to clatter into his empty soup bowl. “What I’m hearing is that Admiral Fuckface won’t stop leaving these two alone until he’s put down permanently or he gets what he wants. Am I on the right track so far?”

“Indeed.” Ahsoka says stiffly, her face full of disapproval.

“Good, stay with me. If we could set up the right trap, we could get the job done ourselves and end all this cat and mouse bullshit for good.” His eyes blaze with intensity. “Then we can get the two of you focused on the tag team titles.”

“You say this as though I haven’t been focused on them this entire time.” Lycana retorts, turning mistrusting eyes to Jimmy.

“You haven’t had a partner like Bets, either.” Caedus replies flippantly, smiling when Lycana rounds on him. “Face it, if you and Marf had clicked the way you needed to in the ring, you could have had the belts off The Bastards months ago.”

”As fine an idea as that is Jimmy,” Betsy interjects loudly, noticing the sparks in Lycana’s eyes. ”Neither objective is as easy to defeat, as you know damn well. The Grand Admiral is tough and defeating him is going to take planning, lots of it. Until then, we handle our business with The Bastards... For now, explain to me how you ended up in all this.”

Jimmy fishes around his pocket and pulls out something hidden in his closed fist, with only a bit of silver chain hanging between his fingers. Betsy gasps when he opens his palm to reveal one of the peacock-blue stones she’d handed out earlier this year to those she’d considered allies. ”I didn’t think anyone actually kept these things.” Betsy confesses before her eyes widen and she glares at Jimmy. ”Come to think of it, I never gave you one. How did you get this?”

“I found it on the floor, I don’t know if it’s owner didn’t realize it was gone or chucked it away. Either way, I wouldn’t have noticed it, but I heard you calling to me when I was near it. I looked around and it was all I could find, but I could still hear you. So, I just held on to it, I figured it was some lucky trinket or some shit.” Jimmy holds it out to her, disappointment filling his eyes. “If you wanted this to go back to whoever you gave it too, I get it.”

With a gentle smile, Betsy closes his fingers over the stone and pushes his hand back to him. ”I think the stone found the person it was meant to be with. Hang on to that.”

“Fucking sweet, thanks! Anyway... The stone, when you and Ly were in trouble, I could hear you, like a distress beacon.” He slips the stone safely back into his pocket as he continues on. “A minute later, that ship of yours was materializing around me and carrying me off to that speakeasy you were trapped in. I landed just outside, which was where I ran into fucking Ahsoka Tano!”

“Once he’d calmed down enough to explain that to me, we stuck together to get the two of you out of there. I was already in the area; I had been for some time as I’d gotten a lead about the crystals from an anonymous source.” Ahsoka’s gaze sharpens at this. “It was convenient, actually... Too much so.”

”You mean, whoever tipped you off wanted to make sure we were found before any harm came to us. Betsy says, her voice full of wonder.

Lycana lets out a soft whistle as she forms the same conclusion as Betsy had. “Thrawn knew we were going to end up there... But why send you? He could have just come and got us himself.”

“He’s still unwilling to take either of you by force; I don’t know why, but we have to use that to our advantage for as long as we can.” With a sigh, Ahsoka stares down the girls. “I still don’t like the idea of teaching one so volatile any of the ways of the Force... But I can see the necessity.” Ahsoka rises abruptly from her chair. “We begin training in the morning.”

Without another word, Ahsoka exits the small hut to meditate more on her decision as the other three stare blankly at one another. Lycana finally breaks the silence, turning her eyes to Jimmy. “And what exactly will you be doing?”

Jimmy beams into her sour face. “I’ll be your personal fuckin’ cheerleader! Wait til’ you see me in my uniform!”

***The Next Morning***

The sun had long ago risen high over their heads, its heat causing Lycana and Betsy to be drenched in sweat as they sparred with one another all over the rocky mountainside. After dinner, they’d finished building Lycana’s lightsaber, which now glowed a vivid purple against the clear blue sky. Betsy’s own dual-ended magenta lightsaber whirled around as the more experienced wielder showed off her skills. As they worked, Ahsoka’s voice floated over the mountain to them, guiding them as she explained The Force to Lycana.

“Invisible to the naked eye, The Force is more of an energy field that surrounds, connecting all living beings within the universe. You felt it first when the crystal called to you, and you felt it again when you stepped off the ship onto this planet. Anch-To is strong with the Force, legend marks it as being the birthplace of the Jedi Order. Everything from the smallest pebble to the strongest wave is connected by the Force, and in time, the two of you will learn to use it at will.”

The mock battle rages on as the girls continue to swing their blades. Lycana, in a moment of confidence, springs forward on light feet as she thrusts her lightsaber outward. Betsy predicts the move and swiftly dodges, giving Lycana a gentle tap on her back to signify certain death. Frustration is evident in blue eyes as Lycana holds up a hand to catch her breath. Betsy turns off her weapon and sits down in the grass next to Lycana, nudging the other woman playfully.

”You’ll get it, Ly, but it takes practice. You can’t be perfect right away.”

“It’s not that... I thought I had a lot of the answers back on Earth, when the weird shit was usually caused by me.”

Betsy can’t help but let out a chuckle. ”Yeah, but who would ever imagine that all the wild shit we grew up watching would end up being based on reality?”

“That’s what I don’t get... How? Earthly legends always come from fact, but how did the minds who introduced science fiction on these levels know about...” Lycana gestures all around them. “It looks like Earth, but you can feel the difference. You can smell it in the waves and taste it in the air; we aren’t anywhere near Earth anymore. How did all those writers know all of this was out there?”

”Well... I suppose they discovered it the same way I did... The way you are. Someone from one of these worlds just happened to cross their path and the rest is history.” the Impossible Traveler smiles. ”I’d like to think our ancestors have been traveling through time and space for longer than we realize. First contact was made billions of years ago... Hell, who’s to say that humans were even the first species to habitate our little world.”

“I never thought of it that way.” Lycana says, her own wonder clear in her tone. “It’s just strange, getting a taste of just how big it all is out there and knowing that somehow, you and I play a significant part in all of it together.”

“Hey, whenever you gals are done with the gossip, I’ve got your next round of training for the day ready!” Jimmy’s voice cuts through their conversation, bringing it to an abrupt end. Exchanging an amused glance, the girls get to their feet and follow the lone male back towards the hut he’d turned into a dojo.

***Promo Time!***

”It’s a funny fucking thing, the way the two of you love to twist things around to suit yourselves. The hypocrisy that exudes from you reeks worse than the time the family dog got sprayed by a skunk.”

Betsy speaks from the shadows, peering out with green eyes, the only visible part of her.

”I understand that when you keep your heads as far up your asses as the two of you do, it’s easy to miss details the rest of us find glaring. It’s all good, that’s why Lycana and I are here to finally spell out the details, nice and slow and in a way you won’t soon forget.

Let's start with the fact that you seem stuck on the idea that Lycana and I had anything to do with the death of the Shooting Star division. The only person around here who was ever upset about that was Atara; what you have in front of you are two women who never wanted to get pigeon-holed into the “Vagina’s Only” club, no puns intended. Our bad, I guess that makes us gold-hungry whores who dare to dream of greater things for ourselves.

Too bad neither of us was starving enough to suck as much dick as the two of you to anyone who could offer you an iota of a benefit. Hey TK, how fast did you hit your knees when Page offered you that ten-dollar Walmart Gift Card and Quizno’s Sub? I know, you guys claim it was offered to attack Robert Main, but let's be real; ever since the payout, his cock has never left your lips. But that wasn’t enough, was it? You’ve securely made those pretty mouth of yours Bobby Bourbon’s personal gloryhole; how lucky for you that it turned out to be a two-way service.

Perhaps that has something to do with the fact that I wouldn’t touch either one of you with a ten-foot pole. With somebody ELSES ten-foot pole; fucking hell, and you say Ly and I are the unfuckable ones? I think you mean unable to be fucked with, especially by a pair of walking poster boys for abstinence. It’s a joke that either one of you would pass judgment on someone’s fuckability when you act the way you do looking how you do. I’ve been offered more pussy than you’ve collectively ever been near, and that’s just a normal Thursday. It’s the curse of being this charming, talented, and drop-dead gorgeous, the rats just line up like soldiers on leave. The two of you couldn’t even woo your way into the burger wrapper home of a sewer mouse.

The idea that Them No Good Bastards are anything but an over glorified side act is laughable by now.

Do you want to know why these companies want to bring you in and put their tag belts on you? Because every good circus has a pair of clowns for comedic relief and you two couldn’t fit the bill better. They watched XWF and realized it wasn’t talent that got you over, it was the way the world paid to laugh at you in person as you stumbled your way around a ring. Nothing you two do is in your control; you couldn’t even turn down a script that was handed to you as a gag. It’s how I figured out how cheap Them No Good Bastards truly came around here.

Personally, I wouldn’t waste a perfect good banana to throw at you two buffoons.”

Betsy smirks slightly as she leans forward.

”Hey Bobby, remember not so long ago when you described that perfect date? You poured your stupid heart out to the world, admitting what a dime piece I am. It’s okay to backtrack, that’s all You Bastards are actually good at. I just wanted to let you know that while I’m flattered, there was never a chance in hell I would consider you. Have you seen what I go home to, what idiot in her right mind would trade down James Raven for Bobby Bourbon?

And speaking of him...

If you guys really thought I sold out my own ‘husband’ and friends before, wait until you catch this next line I drop. Are you ready?

Hey Mainy, back off. If you want Them No Good Bastards, that’s fine by me. Just don’t expect them to be carrying the tag belts when you finish off what’s left of them after Relentless.”

Betsy laughs scornfully.

”My squad is fully aware of my position and backs me on this. I wouldn’t expect either one of you to have noticed this, as your usual habit of missing the point is kicking in again. We all have a mission at Relentless and there’s no need to drag Raven or Warstein back into this again. How many times do they need to slap you around for you to realize that the results will never change? I guess fanbois just love feeling special. But dear me, I’ve spent a lot of time just jawing away at you two fuckwits; there’s somebody else here who has a few closing statements before we meet you in the center of that cage to sizzle you Porky’s reject mother fuckers like bacon.”

Lycana’s eyes appear from the shadows, followed by her smirking ruby lips.

“Oh my goodness Betsy... did you know I left Marf to train for his match while I... Trained for mine?!”

Betsy gasps.

”Say it isn't so!”

Lycana nods, pulling off an amazingly realistic sad face.

“I did... I did go off and train for my own match. You know, putting some effort into it....

Unlike the Bastards did leading up to that twelve man tag match y’all had. Did you see the pitiful shit they offered leading up to it? Talk about zero effort supporting your own faction... They talk so much shit now about Page and BoB, but maybe they were the ones getting the boot out of the group instead of wanting to go off on their own. I wouldn’t be surprised... They do like to twist things for their own narratives. I say that often enough... Usually without checking facts.

Speaking of that, let's creep back into that Shooting Star division, shall we?

I never wanted that belt.

Why would I give half a shit about the death of the women’s division, when I never wanted to be stuck within it, facing the same people over and over, in the first place? Let us just disregard the dozens of times I said I was not interested- probably how TK handles most women's rejection- and pretend you never noticed it. How about we get into the time I was put in a match for it. Do you happen to remember what occurred during my shot at that very strap in a three way?

No, of course you don’t... because you don’t pay attention or do any fucking research whatsoever.

I bowed out.

I fucking took apart Ash Quinn and left her laying, and then strolled my ass over to the corner, and braided my fucking hair.

Really seems that I had a lady boner for the title, huh?

Too bad you boys couldn’t you know... learn some facts before you tried to spew nonsense.

You should really just stick to the He-Man we are bad mofo’s who are gonna whip your ass grr grr stuff... you are oh sooooooo talented at that. Pretty much all your shit is that anyway.

Empty threats and hot air.

But at least they said my name in OCW... And you didn’t Betsy... how dare you!?”

Lycana yawns, showing just how devastated she was by the news. Betsy falls to her knees before Lycana and bows her head.

”Dearest Lycana, I beg you with all of my heart to forgive me. How selfish and unthoughtful of me to mention you... In a company where maybe a handful of people will know who you are. And all of them XWF.

Oh, do you boys think that’s a slight against my girl here? You silly rabbits, the ignorance of OCW to Lycana’s existence is going to be fleeting. What need have I to mention her there when it’s clear that XWF talent aren’t exactly welcome at the moment? We aren’t chasing the tag belts over there and she has little to do with my TransAtlantic Championship, sooooo....

It seems to me you boys are grasping as some rather shoddy straws again.

What a fucking shocker.”

Betsy rolls her eyes dramatically.

”Lycana’s name is only just starting to spread outside of the XWF; a crime, I admit, and one that I’m guilty of aiding in. But as you can see, the lady in question is perfectly capable of making herself heard through the mindless chatter. Heads are beginning to turn, hell, she’s even found her own Blue-Locked Brethren via the ol’ Twitter Machine. I’d say things are starting to look up for our fair-skinned minx, and not a bit of it had to do with me hyping her up.

How about that?

But since you two are sooooooo worried about my ability to be a team player, let me assure you, here and now, that my intentions are pure as fresh winter snow. Neither Lycana nor I carry one or the other; we push each other upward and onward. If you really thought that we haven’t been in cahoots long enough to be ready to face the two you, I suggest you go back through this year's tapes and look again. The writing was always on the wall between us and you’d either have to blind or a blithering idiot to miss the notes.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot who I was addressing.”

Her lips quirk upward.

”I also hear through the grapevine that you two plan to tuck tail and dip when you lose the belts to us. Classic Bastards, jumping ship to whoever is willing to pander to you the most. Funny thing is, I don’t see Theo Pryce OR Vinnie Lane fighting overly hard to convince you guys to stick around.

I guess the only weight the Bastards pull around the XWF is in their waistbands. We won’t talk about how they’ve been faithfully carrying BoB around like trained dogs this entire time. They wouldn’t see it that way anyway. Oh well, I doubt Miss Fury or Chris Page are fighting any harder than Vinnie and Theo to keep the Bastards around, either.

You may as well just take your leave, you worthless sacks of shits; and I hope the door hits every inch of your wide loads on the way out.”

Laughing, Betsy temporarily disappears into the shadows, allowing Lycana the spotlight to herself.

“You know boys... I might not be signed over there in OCW. The roster might not know my name... but they will soon enough. Not only as half of the team that toppled Them Whiny Ass Bitches, and sent them fleeing like the flea bitten mongrels they are... But as the one who put yet another tick mark in the XWF column in the little battle going on versus the feds when I take on Ciela Luiz on my fellow BlueSquadron member, Tara Fenix’s charity cruise.

Good on you for being proactive though...

At least you did one thing right.”

Lycana tilts her head, her long lapis hair falling in a riot down over her shoulder as she takes on a rather pensive look, her finger coming up to tap at her bottom lip.

“You know what's been on my mind for a couple weeks now?

You both praise yourself as the high and mighty, rulers of your own destiny, taking no shit from anybody who might sling it your way. Absolute paragons who destroy any and all who dare come for the Bastards and tell them what to do.

Ruthlessly shredding anybody who would deign themselves worthy enough to step up to the Bastards and try to discourage them from whatever they put their mind to.

Except when you are proving that you two are nothing but a pair of bitches with no balls. Oh yes... here I come with even more proof.

Are you boys enjoying this? I’m enjoying this!”

Lycana looks over at Betsy who grins her affirmation.

“Do you Bastards remember what you were wailing about in the Savage hype cycle? The whole making an appearance in the promotional package put together by ApexLegacy? Where umm... you were ‘forced’ into a fat suit- and let's be fucking real here Bourbon... that was just you, you didn’t need a damn fat suit... and pretend to be hurt by Bets? Where you apparently had to read a script provided to you by Jim Caedus? Where you didn’t get paid a damn dime to do exactly what you were told... and how to do it... by the very people you would be facing off in that ring against?

Like a couple of leashed pets.

Let me get this straight...You just meekly bowed down and agreed to do whatever the fuck ApexLegacy ordered you to do, and you want me to visualize you as an all-powerful, dominating force?!”

A musical peel of laughter escapes her, causing Betsy to giggle as well, her emerald eyes glittering with mirth.

“You are telling me... that the big bad Bastards are too fucking pitiful to say NO?!

You just... obeyed what was expected of you, and performed like a couple of well-trained circus monkeys in your OPPONENTS promo... against... YOURSELF.

For free.

Sounds to me like you really are nothing but a pair of bitches... owned by whoever wishes it.

Is that really all it takes to get you guys to do something? Is it really that easy to harness your will and lead you around by the empty sacks you call balls? Is that all it takes to get you to do whatever is wanted of you?

A damn script?

Well... guess it’s a good thing there's one all written up nice and neat for Relentless. The script for the Main Event of night one has been etched and sealed, the way it will play out all set-in stone. I’d like to think it is a masterpiece, gloriously penned by Betsy and myself, perfected... and all you two assholes have to do is show up in the ring.

We will handle the rest.

And the titles?

As good as fucking ours.”

***Hours Later in the Dojo***

“Trust in your feelings. Use them to guide you; let the Force be your ears and eyes. When you trust in the Force, nothing is out of reach. But mind your feelings. Anger. Aggression. These lead to the Dark Side.”

Despite herself, Ahsoka looks sideways at Lycana, who was busy fending off Caedus in the center of a hand-crafted, makeshift ring. Lycana doesn’t notice in her efforts to subdue Jimmy, but Betsy catches it and glares over at her friend. Ahsoka looks at her blankly, crouching low and inviting Betsy to attack. Unwilling to be baited in, Betsy backs away on light feet, only to be caught up in a scoop slam by Jimmy. Lycana gasps and attempts to retaliate, but Ahsoka is ready and catches her with ease using the Force, stilling the blue-haired vixen in her tracks.

“Sloppy. Both of you have been in tag matches before, why is it so hard for you to work together right now? Fucking hell.” Jimmy runs a hand through his hair as Betsy and Lycana regroup.

”Piss off, Jimmy, we’re trying here.” Betsy growls.

“Trying won’t win you the tag team titles. Trying won’t help you defeat Admiral Blue Balls when he comes knocking to collect what he wants from you guys.” Jimmy glances over at Ahsoka.

“I wouldn’t use those exact words, but I do echo the point behind them. If you two don’t find a way to focus your connection in combat, all hope could be lost for us all.”

“Wait, what?” Lycana’s head spins at Ahsoka’s words. Betsy’s own eyes widen in surprise as her jaw drops.

“I’m speaking out of turn, don’t mind me. Let's start from the beginning and this time, don’t just trust in your feelings. Reach out to one another and read their feelings as well. Once you and your partner are in tune through the Force, you’ll be unstoppable.”

”Uh... You can’t just gloss over a line like that and not expect me to leave it alone, Ahsoka... What did you mean?”

“No more questions.” Jimmy says loudly and without warning, rushes forward, double clotheslining the girls.

They crash to the floor, both rolling instinctively towards one another. Their fingertips manage to brush and the moment they do, the world around them fades away as blinding white and smokey purple twists and writhes into one another. Ahsoka and Jimmy are forced back as a protective bubble forms around the two women, blocking them out from what was happening within...

… Inside, Betsy and Lycana cling to one another as they find themselves transported to a new world, unfamiliar even to Betsy. They seem to be dressed in ceremonial royal garb, surrounded by a group of singing priestesses who raise chalices full of fresh water above their heads. On either side of the royal chamber, a pair of older royals sit atop ornate thrones while a pair of younger nobles sit in a pair of decorated wood chairs in the middle. Everyone is dressed in brightly dyed robes and cool, thin gowns encrusted with gems.

The girls themselves were dressed in the same style dress; Betsy’s was lined with gold while Lycana’s was black lined with silver. Both of them sported golden torques around their necks. Lycana’s is engraved witih a pair of double crescent moons, met in the middle by a full moon made of a glowing moonstone. Betsy’s is designed with a trail of tiny stars etched into the same twisting design as Lycana’s, the two ends meeting at her throat, where a glowing sunstone is designed as a newly formed star. A high priestess stands between them, a hand atop both their heads as she lifts her face towards the sky, blessing the goddess.

“For too long, these two great houses have lived at war; and for too long, neither has been able to find peace, joy, or happiness within their worlds. So many centuries of senseless warfare that could have been resolved so long ago with one simple union. It is a blessing that it is in the wisdom of the Goddess that such a bond has finally been formed; a bond that has born the fruits of a peace that is foretold to last a thousand years.”

The singing of the priestesses gets louder as they begin to pour the water gently atop the girls. The high priestess moves her hand as she turns to the royals who are front and center.

“Look forth and witness what has blossomed from a love the four of you would have deemed impossible!” High Priestess gestures to the older royal pairs. “A pair of twins so pure in their demeanor and unrivaled in their beauty that the Goddess herself has cast her blessing upon them. Gifted they are, perfect compliments to one another. A most powerful force of nature.”

The girls turn to one another, momentarily lost in their world. Both seemed to act as though an invisible guide was leading them through the motions, getting through the ceremony as though it had been practiced a hundred times. After they are “bathed” by the blessed water of the Goddess, the maiden priestesses flock around them and begin to braid their wet hair, nimbly tying in wildflowers as they worked. As they hummed, the high priestess continued on.

“Tonight, under the light of the full moon, they hunt to bring down the Great Stag. Only together will they achieve what so many monks and druids have failed, as one they will share the Horned Crown that many a worthy monk, druid, and warrior before them could never claim. Powerful beings, only in their unity, long ago foretold of, your future has never been clearer. Tonight, on the name day that mark you as women... Become so.”

As they turn away from one another, the girls happen to roll apart, breaking the bond. As soon as the protective bubble disappears, Jimmy and Ahsoka rush to their sides, helping them both up to a sitting position.

“Yo, what the fuck was that?!” Jimmy exclaims, holding Lycana steady.

“I... We... Betsy, what the fuck was that?!” Lycana turns to Betsy, eyes wide.

“Uh... That was... Ahsoka, what the fuck was that?!” Now all three sets of eyes turn to the stoic Togruta who silently watches them.

“A bond through the Force the likes of which I’ve never seen.” Ahsoka muses in a quiet voice. “Did either of you share see anything?”

”A vision... but it felt more like a memory, something we lived out at some point.”

“It was so real...” Lycana murmurs. Jimmy pats her sympathetically on the shoulder.

Ahsoka nods, locking eyes with Betsy. “What happened in that vision?”

”Ly and I were surrounded by what looked like the Priestesses of Avalon, except it was definitely not on Earth. We were being blessed and sent out to hunt their... well, the Great Stag. Maybe it was a version of Avalon, but it wasn’t the one from Earth. Nothing about that felt... human.”

“It wasn’t Thrawn trying to pull us into something like the Candyland scenerio again, was it?” Lycana asks, her eyebrows furrowing and meeting in the middle.

Ahsoka shakes her head reassuringly. “Not possible; Thrawn isn’t Force sensitive, there’s no way he’d be able to use the bond against you. He wants to use it for himself, harness you both as a weapon of mass destruction.”

“Sounds like what we want to be against Them No Good Bastards.” Lycana quips, earning a giggle from Betsy.

“Do you two really think this is fucking funny? You’ve got Them Bastards wanting to take your fucking heads off and Admiral Fuckface trying to steal you guys for your powers. You need to focus and get back to work.” Jimmy says, his voice betraying his aggravation with the girls.

”Sorry Jimmy.” Betsy manages, pulling on Lycana’s arm gently and pulling her along to their side of the ring.

“What do you think this means, Bets?” Lycana asks quietly, pretending to retape her wrist in an attempt to stall.

”I’m not sure, but we won’t stop nosing around until we find out.” Betsy promises, turning as Jimmy clears his throat impatiently.

Together, the girls step forward, ready to take on the unusual team of Ahsoka Tano and Jim Caedus in mock combat...

****Final Thoughts****

”Once those cage doors shut and they turn the power on.... Only then will Them No Good Bastards realize how much more they bit off than they could possibly chew.

As their bodies writhe in pain against the cage, Lycana and I will swoop in and reestablish the tag division back to what it was truly meant to be.

A symbol of teamwork and comradery. The promise of riches through the power of teamwork and friendship. Before Them No Good Bastards, each of these teams operated with a code of honor; there was a respect towards these belts that the Bastards have thoroughly besmirched. Oh, no one ever doubts the depths of their alliance, if ever it were possible for two fiends to be genuine friends, the Bastards would be the shining example. But all empires crumble eventually; Lycana and I are ready to cross the Rubicon and take it all for ourselves.”

“This has been a long time coming... I have stepped up to the Bastards many times, each and every moment causing them pain savored, like the finest wine one could obtain. Each time, watching them limp from the ring battered and bruised, glorying in the hell I had put them through. Tomorrow night, will mark the biggest blow of all... a wound so deep, so devastating, that it rocks the entire wrestling world to its core.

The end of TNGB’s era as XWF Champions.

And a pair of well-placed boots in the ass sending them toppling from their perch as the ‘best’ tag team on that little list they adore so much.

Tomorrow marks the worst day in the life of the Bastards.

From the moment they hear the clang of that cage door. The jingle of the lock. The sizzle of the electricity being fired up. And the sounds of the bell... Their sharp descent into nothingness will begin. A world of hellfire and pain marking the time between that, and when the final slam of the ref's hand comes down... labeling them losers.

Marking them... as finished.”

”And as for a name? Don’t you boys worry about that.”

“What’s in a name? I know when it comes to ours, it says everything you need to know about us. Together, we are strong, unique, powerful beings...”

”...And come Relentless, Them No Good Bastards will be the first to taste the might of our combined wrath. Allow us to introduce ourselves properly, for we are...”

"IMPOSSIBLE ENTITY!"

]]> <![CDATA[Chaos Shimmers Through The Order]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41933 Thu, 23 Sep 2021 12:44:48 -0700 Lycana]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41933

I can take the heat
Go on and throw your shade
You think that you’re the only one who’s ever taken aim
I fight like a machine
I’ve never been afraid
Keep throwing your grenades and I’ll say
Bombs away

___________________________________________________________________________________

Her head was spinning as if she were on a runaway carousel as the hazy, faint, first stages of consciousness began to creep up on her. She feels bile rising in her throat as she becomes aware of the slight bumping her body was taking, the motion threatening to cause her breakfast to make a very unwanted reappearance. As she starts to come to more, more unwanted aches make their presence known. A mild throb on her forehead from when she had quite elegantly crashed face first into Excellence’s control console. The sharp stab in her temple from the cane of...

Her eyes fly open.

And immediately crash shut again, as her stomach lurches violently in protest. Colors swirls behind her eyes as she struggles to maintain control of her body.

Lycana struggles with her breathing, forcing her roiling innards to subside. Once the threat of her vomiting all over had calmed to a level she could handle, she tentatively cracked an eyelid once more, immediately regretting it.

The sidewalk swayed, even that small motion having the effect of a rollercoaster on her guts as she bites back a groan. She grits her teeth as the fog slowly lifts from her brain, and she becomes more aware of the position she was in.

Upside down to be precise.

Riding high above the ground courtesy of the shoulder of one of the unsavory fellows that had bopped her and...

BETSY!

She wiggles, trying to catch sight of her friend, a soft moan escaping her, and instead finds the world becoming a blur for a few seconds as she is tossed unceremoniously to the ground in front of her ‘ride’, landing with a thud on her ass.

“Eh there girl, no spewing on the suit, you hear? Its new.”

Lycana lets her gaze travel up from the polished black shoes, shimmering in the sun, over the neatly pressed pants legs in what appeared to be dark gray... Up to the starched white shirt, with a gray vest buttoned over the top, partially covered by the gray jacket, skipping over the face of her captor to land on the... you guessed it... gray hat perched jauntily on his slicked back hair.

She drops her line of sight, to look at the face of the man who was idly twirling his cane as she perused him. Beady dark eyes in a weather worn face full of pockmarks that could have been anywhere from late twenties to forties. Ugly AF. A cigarette hung from his lower lip, clinging with no signs of movement as if it had been superglued. The end glows... with no color... as he puffs on it, slow realization dawning on just where HE was looking.

She snaps her thighs shut, a thunderous scowl appearing on her face. This was why she never fucking wore dresses. She sucks in a deep lungful of air, prepared to let him, and everyone in the vicinity know what was going on.

“I don’t recommend that, unless you want another smooch to the head with this.” he lifts the cane.

Just as her mouth opens to emit a grand ‘fuck you’, movement captures her attention, the air leaving her lungs with a soft whoosh instead of the expletives she had intended. “Betsy...” she whispers the word as she spies the very angry blond, wrapped up tight in the arms of the other fellow, a hand smushed over her mouth.

Lycana’s ride gestures with the cigarette. “There see, your friend is awake too, all safe with Sobby. Put ‘er down.”

And from the rumpled look of his clothing, she had given him quite the battle before he gained the upper hand and subdued the Impossible Traveler.

“Alright Blunder.”

The heavyset lump with brillo pad like, matted hair ignores the muffled snarl that emerges from under his palm, moving forward to drop his bundle next to Lycana. “Yeah, you better put me down, you dirty, rotten, son of a... Lycana! Are you okay?”

Before Lycana could reply, Blunder talks over them.

“You dames are coming with us, either under your own power or we can carry ya again. Your choice.”

Betsy and Lycana share a long, silent glance, both knowing they had little choice in the matter, at least right now. Both started slowly helping each other to their feet, tugging down skirts as they went. With a simple nod, the greasy Blunder led the way down a rather shady looking alley while the giant wall of flubber, Sobby, took up the rear, leaving the barest crack of sunlight between him and the colorless brick walls that loomed above.

A pause outside of a normal looking door. A knock that sounded suspiciously like a code and it cracked open. Words were exchanged and the girls were ushered into a dusty bookstore, through the stacks and stacks of tomes, all neatly arranged on the shelves. Behind the counter...

And there they stand, looking at a yawning hole in the ground, stairs seeming to lead into nothing.

“Well c’mon then, we don’t have all day.” the prod of the cane at the base of their spine and they move forward, carefully treading down the rickety steps, each one groaning its displeasure at the weight of the women.

Betsy glares at Blunder and Sobby, before falling in close beside Lycana. While the two henchmen are distracted with the path ahead, the girls lean their heads in close together and begin to plot in desperate whispers.

“How do we get out of this one, Bets?” Lycana hisses through her teeth, keeping her blue eyes locked on Blunder.

“I’m still thinking on it, but for now, just play along. The best thing we can do now is get a feel for where we are and study everything around us. Maybe the answer to our escape is hidden in plain sight.”

“Play along... I can do that. Where do you think we are?”

”Everything around us suggests 1920s Chicago, the height of prohibition, gangsters, and...”

“Hey, enough of that whispering! We’ll have no funny business from you dames, you hear?”

With a face full of rage, Betsy snaps her mouth shut as the foursome continues underground in silence. They hit the bottom of the stairs, and walk slowly towards the faint glow, outlining another door. Blunder opens it, bathing them in soft light as they step into another world, Sobby squeezing in close behind.

The bar was empty, giving no indication of the patrons that would soon sneak in, paying good money to fill its interior and sip the forbidden sweetness of alcohol. The Vixen and the Impossible Traveler blink their eyes as they adapt to the dimness of the interior, a soft sound drawing their attention. A barkeep, slowly running a rag in circular motions over the wooden top of the bar. He gives no indication that he even notices the arrivals, studiously keeping his head bent to his task.

“The Boss?” Only two words, but the meaning was clear.

Without looking, the barkeep simply jerks his head towards a hallway still further into the building. The little parade moves silently forward, and Lycana finds her gaze on the shimmering bottles of liquor, her hand itching to get ahold of one to smash over the head of their captors. Instead, she looks over to Betsy, who had the same longing look in her eyes as she stares at the glassware. With a soft sigh, Betsy glances at Lycana, catching her stare. They offer up small smiles at one another, fingers automatically reaching out to touch as they give each other a reassuring squeeze. No matter what was through that door, they would face it together.

Blunder stands aside, motioning them to go first, and without a moment hesitation, they do, finding themselves in a shockingly plush office. A large, gleaming desk dominates the room... and behind that desk, sitting in the chair, his presence somehow taking up the entire room sat who they only knew right now as... The Boss.

Betsy gasps at the young, powerful looking man in the pinstriped suit behind the desk. His face was friendly enough, though it was hard to miss the glint of evil in his dark eyes. A cigarette hung loosely from heavily ringed fingers as his free hand scrawled something against a personalized notepad. He merely nodded towards his henchmen as Betsy and Lycana are thrust further into the room, indicating that the women should be seated at the desk before him. The girls are inserted roughly into their chairs, each one held in place by one of the goons in The Boss’ employee.

When The Boss finally finishes up his notetaking, he finally draws his eyes up and studies each girl carefully. “What brings a couple of beautiful dames to my city?”

“YOUR city?” Betsy sputters.

“Yeah, birdie, MY city and the two YOU have trespassed into it without my permission. Why? Who do you work for?”

“Work for?” Lycana asks, sounding just as dumbfounded as Betsy.

Frustration is obvious in The Boss’ face as he rises from the uncomfortable looking chair behind the large desk. “Yes, work for. As in, who sent you? A lot of these jamokes thing they can come into my city and claim my turf. I’ll bet it was Dillinger, that bastard... I wouldn’t put this past the Bugs and Meyer Gang to be this bold, either.”

Both girls eyes widen as the names of some of the most notorious gangsters of the Public Enemy era escape his lips. Betsy’s heart begins to pound as she realizes that they might just be stuck in 1920s Chicago.

“What about Al?” Lycana chimes in suddenly.

“Capone?” All three men throw their heads back and howl with laughter. “That clown can barely tie his own shoes, let alone take over MY ring. But if that’s an admission as to who sent you...”

“That was a suggestion as to who may be trying to take over your outfit... But that’s it. I’ve never met the guy personally, Betsy?”

Even through the grey hues of their world, Betsy’s face begins to burn with guilt. Blunder notices as his grip on her shoulders tightens. “Look at ‘er, Boss! Guilty as anything!”

“Hey, I only met him once, but I’m no associate of his!” Betsy protests, attempting to rise from her seat. Blunder forces her back down as The Boss stands up straight.

His full height is intimidating as he comes around the desk and rests himself on the edge, leaning in close to both girls. His voice is deadly soft when he speaks to them. “You dames had best come clean or you won’t like what happens to you.”

“We’re telling you the truth, you stupid son of a bitch.” Lycana growls, her impatience clear. “We’re just two friends travelling the world who happened to get a little lost after some engine trouble. We don’t want any trouble; we just want to get back on track.”

“Sounds like a bunch of nonsense to me, Boss.” Sobby says, an evil grin crossing his face. “I say we take ‘em down cellar and use them as our personal playthings.”

Both women tense up at this, eyeing up The Boss as he appraises them once more. With a nod, he rises and strolls back around to the business side of his desk. “They do make quite a lovely pair; easy on the eyes and bodies like gunpowder. Y’know son, sometimes you manage to come up with a good idea or two from time to time.”

Sobby beams at the compliment, his grip on Lycana becoming more possessive. “Gee, thanks Boss!”

“We’re not going to sit here and allow any of you to use us as anything.” Betsy snarls, fighting in earnest against Blunder now. “You can’t just-”

“I can do whatever I want, girlie, as you’ll soon find out. And you would do best to keep your pretty little mouth shut and accept whatever comes your way. You would also do well to thank your lucky stars I’ve decided to be merciful with you two dames; I could send you back to your boss in pieces, you know.”

With a practiced flick of his wrist, he dismisses the room. Throwing each of the struggling girls over their shoulders, Betsy and Lycana are unceremoniously taken to the pits of the speakeasy and tossed onto a damp, cold stone floor. Betsy scrambles to her feet first as the cage door is swung shut with a loud bang and locked by a key on a ring of many. Committing what the ring looked like to memory, she narrows her green eyes at Blunder and Sobby who both look at her through the bars like a hot meal.

“Tonight is going to be fun, love.” Blunder says, standing so close to Betsy she can smell the stale beer and cigarettes on his breath. “You may not like it now, but you’ll be my gal by the end of the night. You’ll see.”

Blowing her a kiss, Blunder and Sobby laugh mirthlessly as they disappear through a heavy, wooden door. Betsy hears this get locked as well, and now the girls are good and trapped underground with only the dim light of oil lamps to scan the room with. Turning to Lycana, her eyes are hard like emeralds, alert and skipping around the room as she spoke.

“Obvious point coming, we have to figure a way out of here; the not so obvious is the how. My lightsaber is still aboard Excellence, along with my sonic pen. The only thing we have that we could possibly use is the bit of gunpowder that spilled from the barrel by our cage. It’s way risky, though; the noise could attract them upstairs, never mind what it could do to us in close range down here.”

When she realizes the length of Lycana’s silence after her spiel, Betsy finally rests her green eyes on where the sapphire vixen had been standing. The spot was empty.

Turning, Betsy notices that Lycana’s eyes had begun to glow as she stepped up to the bars of the cage as though hypnotized. For Lycana, the world had faded away around her as the sweetest song she’d ever heard filled her head, spreading a comforting warmth through her entire body.

It had started in the farthest recesses of her mind, a teasing little distraction that she couldn’t quite put her finger on as she had listened to Betsy, struggling to maintain her focus as the sound became more insistent. A light tug on the very essence of her being, as if fairies were fluttering about, urging her onwards to... to... she didn’t know, but she found one foot stepping forward on its own accord.

What am I doing? bewildered, she stares at the foot that had moved. The song was louder now, clearer and she found herself sinking within its spell, allowing it to weave its way through her mind, taking over everything with its delicate notes. What is this? What is going on? wonderment trickles through her veins, as her heart began to thrum with an urge she could not put a name to. What are you? She felt almost silly, for that second, asking questions inside her own head of a song... but it seemed nearly to answer her, the tone swirling in tempting tendrils through her mind, beckoning her forward, ever forward...

And she answers.

She moves, though it seemed to her she was floating on a cloud, drawn by the invisible thread that shimmered between her and whatever was making this music inside her soul. She slowly stepped across the cell, unerringly drawn toward the door. Could this be...? she wondered to herself, and almost immediately the barest lilt in the music seemed to answer her not fully spoken question. A comfort that she had never known washes over her body, like she was being wrapped in the softest, cuddliest blanket in the world... and it was then she knew. My crystal... Elation fills her heart, confirming her thoughts. She had not known it would be like this, the soothing melody a literal sirens song to her. A gentle balm making her feel that all was well. Featherlight tugs insisted she keep coming, though she could no longer, thanks to the barrier that blocked her way.

Betsy’s voice cuts through her mind, momentarily blocking out the song as Lycana turns to her partner, eyes normal once more. “Betsy... It’s here.”

“What’s here?” asks The Impossible Traveler, confusion touching her face for a moment.

“The crystal... I can hear it. It’s here.”

Betsy’s eyes widen as her jaw drops. ”Kyber crystals here? What the hell are kyber crystals doing in 1920-something Chicago?”

“Because once again, Betsy Granger, you’ve managed to end up right in the middle of an Imperial scheme.”

From the shadows, a cloaked figure emerges, darting on silent feet across the stone floor. Hope explodes through Betsy as electric blue eyes appear from the darkness before her and peer into her face. Lycana drinks in the gorgeous Togruta, admiring the pale orange hue of her skin, the intricate designs etched within her face around the eyes, as well as the blue stained design against white montrails, the ends of which peaked out from under her hood.

”Ahsoka!” Betsy cries out breathlessly, relief so heavy she nearly bursts into tears. ”Wait, what are YOU doing here?! You said this has something to do with Thrawn?”

”Time and place, lil sis.” Another voice joins them from the shadows, a male timber so recognizable to them both that they exchange a surprised look.

“Caedus?” Lycana asks, a slight edge in her tone. Betsy can feel her body tense next to her and puts a comforting hand on Lycana’s shoulder.

”The one and only. You don’t sound so happy to see me, toots.”

Indeed, the difference of reaction between the girls couldn’t have been more obvious. Betsy’s face breaks out into a full grin as she rattles the cage a bit in greeting, whereas Lycana’s face darkens a bit, arms crossing over her chest as she glares at him from under her long eyelashes. Ignoring Lycana’s sour greeting, he steps up in front of Betsy and grins back at her.

”When we did that Star Wars bit, you never told me some of that shit was real! Ahsoka Tano, Bets? You’re friends with Ahsoka Fucking Tano?”

”Uh... There’s still a lot to catch you up on Jimmy, but now really isn’t the best time for all of that.”

Jim nods his agreement, the exuberant smile fading from his face as a look of business and a serious air take hold. Strolling over to the hinges, he begins to take them out, but Ahsoka rests a hand on his arm to stop him. Everyone looks at her confused as her wise blue eyes peer back into the cage, resting on Lycana.

“Betsy, did I hear this girl correctly?”

Catching the stern tone in Ahsoka’s voice, Betsy puts on the best innocent face she can muster. She hopes her tone doesn’t hitch and give her away. “Depends on what you heard?”

“You two are searching for a kyber crystal for her?” Ahsoka’s eyes narrow as Betsy’s gaze drops guiltily to the floor. “You know I will always help you in any task you ask of me, Betsy Granger, but I cannot aid you in this.”

Lycana’s head jerks upward indignantly, her flame-filled eyes meeting Ahsoka’s. “And exactly why not?”

“I sense much anger in you... impatience... fear.” Ahsoka’s gaze never wavers. “These consume you and will only lead you down a dark path. I will not assist in sending you down that path.”

”Now wait just a moment, my friend.” Betsy’s green eyes are pleading as she pokes her head through the bars. ”I know what I’m doing, and I... I trust her. Completely. She’s not just my tag partner, she’s my friend and she’s in a rather similar stage of her life as I am. Now we know our fates are linked... The least I can do is help her adjust to the craziness of my half of it.”

Ahsoka seems to want to respond, but something in Lycana’s turbulent eyes stills her, allowing the cerulean vixen to plead her case before she slams the lid down on the idea. “The journey I took to get where I am, I have learned. I admit it, I was never able to rein in my temper the way it should have. I have done... things... and I own them.” her voice fades slightly as she seems to ruminate, carefully choosing her words. “I have also changed. I do not rush headlong into situations, and I no longer allow emotions to control me.”

She sucks in a soft breath, lids dropping to shutter her eyes as her head bows. “I don’t pretend that it is easy, the old me is always there along the edges, old habits die hard and all that...” her voice firms as she raises her face once more, determination flaring to life with the steely depths of her orbs. “But it will not get the better of me.”

Ahsoka looks between the women, hesitation still evident in her expression. Her gaze lingers on Lycana for a few moments longer before she finally motions for Jimmy to finish the task he’d started. As soon as the final hinge of the cage door was removed, Ahsoka used the Force to quietly dispatch of it across the room. As soon as the gap was wide enough, Lycana burst out of it and headed for the spot she could feel the crystal calling to her from. Ahsoka leans in close to Betsy as they watch her, whispering low.

“I don’t like this, Betsy... You could be setting yourself for your biggest fall yet.”

”She made mistakes, so have I; if I deserved a second chance, shouldn’t she?”

“You aren’t as prone to giving in to the Dark Side as she is; your anger was able to managed. She lives with a rage that consumes her very soul and fear in her heart for situations she can’t control. She’s impulsive, impatient... It’s risky, Betsy.”

”I think you give me entirely too much credit...” Betsy mutters, pushing down dark memories that threatened to pour from her lips.

Lycana follows the pull, some hidden force leading her once more, tuning out the muted conversation behind her. It didn’t matter right now. A vague sort of haze drops down across the edges of her vision, the pleasant cloudy feeling overtaking her once more as the enchanting song calls to her. She pauses for a moment next to Caedus, peering around him as he stares at her curiously.“You okay, girl?”

She pauses, gaze still locked behind him. “I will be when I find it.”

“You seem surprised I showed up.” the rumbling tone was neutral as ice blue collides with sterling, his interaction pulling her slightly back, away from the insistent tugging.

“You came for Betsy.” she points out the obvious.

“I would have come for you too.” he replies, earning a small frown.

“Why?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do. I don’t hate you, you know.” But she was already fading back out, the words slow to sink in, intermingling with the song, not truly computing as she slowly shifts her body, searching... seeking... the call unrelenting, adamant that she gives in. But this was not the right spot...

No. Not here. She allows her eyes to flit across his face, offering a genial head bob in response before edging around him and heading towards a bunch of things stacked in the corner, darkened by shadows.

A loud clatter above their heads causes all four of them to pause where they stood, looking around cautiously. A few panicked shouts are heard followed closely by several gunshots. A moment later, the familiar sound of a door being unlocked and pushed open echoes down the basement.

”They’re coming!” Betsy hisses loudly, reaching instinctively for the lightsaber that wasn’t there.

Lycana turns to her, eyes glowing slightly violet and faraway from the room as she glances blindly at Betsy. “I need more time... It’s here, I can feel it.”

Heavy footsteps clamor down the stairs now.

“It’s now or never, girl.” Caedus says, swiftly sliding two blasters from his thigh holsters and twirling them over his fingers like a proper gunslinger.

Ahsoka tosses Betsy a spare lightsaber; Betsy ignites it, reveling in the satisfying sizzing hiss as it’s yellow light fills the room. Sobby appears first, followed closely by Blunder, both of whom have their guns drawn. Surprise fills both their faces as they pause, taking in the scene before their eyes.

“The dames are trying to escape!”

Blunder lifts his gun, aiming at Ahsoka, but Jimmy comes from the shadows and tackles him to the ground. Before Sobby could register what was happening, Ahsoka springs forward on nimble feet and lands her feet against his chest with ease. As she uses the momentum to do a flip back to her feet, Sobby stumbles backward, gasping for air. All hell breaks loose as Ahsoka and Jimmy are quickly embroiled in battle with the sleezy henchmen.

As the distraction carries out, Betsy reaches under her shirt and grabs at a key hanging from a chain. Wrapping her fingers around it and closing her eyes, she begins to send out a telepathic message, hoping her recipient was close enough to receive it.

Meanwhile, Lycana continues her desperate search, the song overtaking even the loud fight carrying on around her. Lifting the lids off of barrels and crates, sifting through gunpowder and home-brewed liquors... still nothing. Yet the song was growing more powerful by the second, her heart hammering to it loudly like a bass dropping at the hottest dance club you’ve ever been to. For a brief moment, despair hits her heart as she begins to wonder if the stone would ever show itself to her...

… And that’s when destiny reared her head.

As Betsy’s green eyes snapped open, a bullet blew past her, narrowly missing her by inches. Jimmy lets out a roar of rage and drills the butte of his blaster hard overtop of Blunder’s skull. The big man’s eyes roll up into his head as a stupid grin crosses his face before his lids flutter shut and he slumps heavily onto the ground. His crashing body landed just in front of Lycana’s feet and into a pile of crates that Lycana had been about to root through. She clicks her tongue in frustration as the crates crash down loudly all around them... Until a bright, white glow fills her entire field of vision.

Betsy watches in what felt like slow-motion as the crates spilled thousands of the crystals all over the damp floors. Ahsoka gasps, also spotting the unexpected loot scattering all around them. It’s right about here that The Boss joins the party, of course. He does a quick look around, noticing that Blunder was neutralized and Sobby had his hands full with Ahsoka and Jimmy. Finally, they land on Lycana, who has fallen to her knees before a singular crystal that was glowing brightly. A smirk crosses his smarmy face as he reaches for the pistol hidden in his suit jacket...

When a yellow light ignites just in front of his throat and a woman’s voice floats into his ear. ”I wouldn’t do that if I were you, big boy. All your weapons on the ground, now.

“Easy now, doll, we can talk this out.” Even still, The Boss does as he’s told. Ahsoka now has Sobby subdued and Jimmy has joined Betsy, holding his blaster right between the fellow’s eyes.

“I believe the time for talking has long passed us by.” Ahsoka says, holding her own lightsaber in The Boss’ direction now. “Except for the part where you tell me how you came to be in possession of so many of these crystals.”

As Ahsoka and Jimmy interrogate The Boss, Betsy floats over to Lycana, who is still staring at the glowing stone with fascination. Recognizing the doubt in her friends eyes, Betsy places a comforting hand on Lycana’s shoulder and squeezes gently. ”It’s calling to you... Take it.

Needing little more prompting, Lycana reaches out as if hypnotized and finally wraps her fingers around the crystal. The moment her skin hits the smooth surface, the glowing white light darkens to a purplish-blue hue. Lycana turns her eyes up to Betsy, a shine within them that had never been there before. “This feeling...”

“I know.” Betsy says gently, helping Lycana to her feet.

Snapping out of her reverie, Lycana palms the crystal and squeezes it firmly before slipping it safely into her bra. “You know, I really miss my pockets about now.”

Betsy giggles in surprise at the off-hand remark, but nods her agreement as they turn back to Jimmy and Ahsoka. The Boss was in the midst of a rambling confession.

“... I swear I meant no harm in hoarding all those space rocks, really! I was only following orders from the strange blue fella that came from the sky!”

”Strange blue fella?! Betsy and Ahsoka exchange a look.

“So Thrawn is behind this.” Ahsoka says gently, earning her Lycana’s full attention.

“The same guy who’s been after Betsy? What would he want with all these crystals?”

”He’ll want them for his Inquisitors... Or something far worse.” Betsy replies softly.

A loud whooshing noise fills the room and moments later, Excellence materializes within the cage. Despite herself, Lycana grins at the ship, never more relieved to have seen the phone booth in her life. Turning back to the group, she throws a thumb over her should and smiles. “Our ride has arrived.”

”And not a moment too soon.” Betsy says sarcastically. ”So what do we do with all this? We can’t leave them here for the Empire to pick up.”

“And they can’t go back to Ilum... I think I know a place, though.” Ahsoka says, grabbing one of the crates and scooping the stones into it. “I have a feeling we don’t have much time before Thrawn gets here, so let’s get these bad boys onto your ship and get out of here.”

Without hesitation, the other three follow Ahsoka’s lead; before long, the crew has all the stones accumulated and stored safely within Excellence. Betsy saunters over to the control console and begins flipping switches. ”So... Where to?”

(Part Three Coming Soon!)

****Words With a Shimmer****

“It never fails, does it?

Each and every time I step up to watch you two assholes run your mouths, I think that I have seen the very pinnacle... and each and every time, I am proven wrong.

There's another damn level of stupidity to the Bastards that I had never before DREAMED possible.

And yet, here we are... with this little gem.

“Show up, Jump Them No Good Bastards.”

Hollllllllld on just a second here. I know you two don’t pay attention to jack shit, but are you two completely blind as fuck as well? Because let me tell you something, that is certainly not what I saw going down on Warfare. And I'm pretty damn sure anybody with eyeballs, saw the exact same thing I did.

What I saw, was Betsy Granger smashing your face into the mat, and pinning those shoulders for the three count.

Then, you proceeded to disgust the world by taking off your mask and giving insight as to why you hid that shit in the first place. I could have gone another six years not knowing, believe me!

THEN... THEN Bourbsy... this is where I think it gets a little hazy for you, but don’t worry! I'll clear this right up for ya! THEN Ol’ Thunder Knuckles came bouncing into the ring, and well, let's be real, every time you two played the numbers game, it never seemed to end well for Bets. It just didn’t seem to me that you two were in there together to give her a foot massage and a spa treatment.

So, forgive me, for coming down to the ring to watch the back of my partner!

What a sin!

How DARE I get into the ring and stand by her side like I did! What an atrocious crime!

Maybe you should have blockaded me into the bathroom, like you did Caedus.

You know... when you two jumped Betsy like you and the rest of the shitheads in BoB do.

All.

The.

Damn.

Time.

Nah, you know what.... fuck you Bobby.

You’re the one that had the gumption to invite TK out and think that nothing would come from it. You’re the one that stepped your flabby ass forward and motioned us on. And then you’re the one who couldn’t handle the heat that you invited onto yourself. You’re the one that turned tail and ran off with TK like the pathetic little pissy twats that you are.

Way to prove what I’ve been saying, that neither of you two cowardly fucks, have any balls to speak of.

We came out to jump the Bastards.... please.

This sounds to me that Bourbon is all ass hurt that nobody gave a shit about his precious mask. This sounds to me that Bourbon is feeling a little emasculated that Betsy beat his fucking ass in that ring when he didn’t think she could. This sounds to me like Bourbon is being a whining, crying little bitch who needs a fresh diaper and a bottle because he can't handle things not going his way without a tantrum.

And they say women are the crybaby emotional ones?

I present to you, Bobby Bourbon! Biggest Bitch of them all!

Don’t worry though Bourbs, you certainly have the tits for it.”

Betsy watches Lycana in open fascination and admiration as the blue-haired vixen some things off her chest. With a grin, Betsy turns to the camera.

“How does one follow some hard-hitting facts such as those? It’s about time the Bastards got a taste of their own medicine and I’m in the mood to shove the bitter pill down their throats. Besides, it would be petty of me not to correct their moronic diatribes; we wouldn’t want them looking even more half-witted than they already are, now would we?

Take, for instance, this adorable little Bill and Ted rip-off you guys have been attempting recently. Listen, I’m flattered that you guys look up to me so much that felt the need to do a trash imitation of what I’ve already perfected, I am. But as the real deal, let me give you a bit of advice: quit while you’re ahead. If you think Stephen Moffatt would cringe at the things I’ve done, wait until Keanu Reeves sees the way you two managed to butcher one of his most iconic roles. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to go full John Wick on both your flubbery fool asses for the stupid shit you’re trying to pull. Are the two of you so out of ideas that you would turn to the same route your craven leader would use against me?

Well... I suppose that question is a bit redundant since we’re witnessing you fucktards doing absolutely that in real-time.

Also, I suppose it’s time for me to clear something up for the billionth time, since you two, among many other vapid twatwaffles, seem unable to grasp this. James and I? Yeah, we’re not married. Why does this matter? Because it’s more weaksauce, desperate, bullshit filler you would try to use to get under my skin; don’t you know by now saying his name won’t summon him? It’s fucking hilarious to me how the two of you use me to call him out for month, chasing him down on Twitter like a couple of Simping Stans and the moment he arrives, you act like he ain’t shit. That’s condition knows as PABS- Pussy Ass Bitch Syndrome and Doctor Betsy is here to deliver the unfortunate news that both of you have a terminal case of it.

It’s always a shame when a bitch needs to be put down, but the two of you are long overdue.

Look around guys- I'm the only member of Legacy left who gives half a fuck about the XWF. James and Shawn come when I call them, that’s what family does for one another. Do you really think either one of them would have refused me if I’d asked them to be in Lycana’s spot? Please, all three of us have already beaten the two of you at least once. It wouldn’t have been any sweat off my back to call in either one of my boys to bounce the two of you around like oversized basketballs once again. Hell, we could make a full-blown sport of ripping apart Them No Good Bastards at this point. It isn’t about Legacy at this point, it’s the ideals we stood by. A code of loyalty that has never wavered and that I now share with the sapphire dream at my side.

So why Lycana?

Despite popular belief that I think her supernatural abilities give us an edge of any sort, it’s not the magic she possesses that draws me to her. Fact is, Lycana and Marf have been after these two blobs for months with undesirable results. The Dissentients should have been the tag team champions months ago, and it makes me sick that it’s come to this to tear those belts off the over-expanded waists of Da Bastids.

Lycana is due.

Have you been paying attention, boys? When have you ever seen this icy beauty so fired up before? As top-tier a team as the Dissentients are, Lycana needed a womans assist to finally grab what she’s been chasing for so many months. Here’s the part that makes this extra dangerous for you two: she’s not just doing this for herself. In reality, it should be Marf standing by her side at Relentless as they lift their newly won tag team titles in the air, but destiny has decided to throw us a curveball instead. It will be bittersweet for her indeed when it’s at my side that she’ll finally have that moment of glory, lifting one of those pretty tag belts in the air.

But she doesn’t seem to mind.

Because like me, The Dissentients know that continuing the crumbling downfall of BoB is the most important task there is. And yanking the rug out from under the clown-feet of Them No Good Bastards would make a mighty fine addition to the snowball that’s already barreling them towards a collision with all hell. Lycana and I share the same goal, and we’re both at the end of our ropes when it comes to Thunder Knuckles and Bobby Bourbon.

Ropes that I’d love to use to tie them to that stupid electrified cage we’ll be cozied up in.

I’m going to enjoy watching you two butterball bitchkins fry like piggies.”

The Impossible Traveler pauses as she glances over at Lycana for a moment.

”As to what happened at Warfare, well... I think my partner here definitely took the bull by the horns on that one.

Lycana and I jumped the Bastards? Last I checked, both of you left on your own two feet with nary a scratch on your surface fat. I know it’s hard to believe that Lycana would only come out to make sure I stayed in one piece, but let the tapes speak for themselves. Bourbs... Sorry the unmasking was a wash, but I hope it showed you the reality of The Bastards situation. Not a single soul in that place gave a shit about you taking that sweat-catcher off, no one will give a fuck if you put a new one back on. Switch them up if you want, just keep that ugly mug of yours out of view. Even if the stupid thing had magical powers, it wouldn’t matter in the ring, remember? Last I checked, there was some dumbass magic blocker that prevents any unfair advantages.

Whoops, maybe y’all should have thought that one through before you tried to use it as another paper-thin point to make on us.

Besides, what was going to happen when ol’ TK came down to the ring, hmmm? Only an idiot would believe the two of you were going to let me pass peacefully; that’s not the Bastards style, never was, never will be. What, he was just coming down to comfort you after that stinging loss he suffered to me? Sure, and the next thing you’ll tell me is that we were all going to form a peace circle and sing Kumbaya while smoking a blunt. The two of you were going to take the last opportunity you had to take me out as much as you could before Relentless.

Now you’re butthurt as fuck because Lycana decided to not leave her partner hanging in that situation solo.

Funny how it’s cool when the two of you sneak attack, but the moment my partner shows up to have my back, it’s scandalous and pathetic. Fuck right off outta here with that Primadonna, double-standard bullshit. The two of you got played at your own fucking game and you can’t stand it. Now look how you backtrack, crying wolf (no put intended) on Lycana and I. It’s not so fun when the tables start to turn, is it?

Warfare was only the beginning of the humiliation Lycana and I have prepared for the two of you. Please, continue to blow your hot air into the camera, with your poorly contrived plan of attack against us.

And to our doubters, I don’t want to hear shit from you mother fuckers when Lycana and I claim our prize. So many of you think the task of beating the Bastards is going to take more than Lycana and Betsy Granger; go on, then. Continue to book your bets against us, make them extravagant and be loud about it. I want to remember every single face in the crowd leading up to Relentless who would stop Lycana and I just to tell us we’re in over our heads. I’ll etch to memory those of you who would repeat the witless drivel that the Bastards continue to spurt on the daily. It’s as mind-numbing as watching a State of Address from Forty-Five. It doesn’t help that Them Bastards share his laughable ignorance and have no problem showing that every time they open their mouths.

It gets harder to take you guys seriously by the day, and luckily, those days are just about numbered.”

“Excuse followed by excuse, followed by excuse... Holy shit. Might I just reiterate that the two of you don’t pay attention to a damn thing?

I get a new power every few seconds huh? That’s news to me. I wish I was told what they were so I could, you know. Start learning them. Last I checked... the only magical things I have come into possession of, were a particular bell that does some pretty nifty things, during Leap of Faith but nah, we couldn’t be talking about way back in MAY now could we? You said every two seconds! And that’s not even a power... Shit, that certainly means you couldn’t possibly be talking about when I brought Reika back in March? No? Then damn... I give up. You’ll have to enlighten me. I do have one.... teensy tiny little question though...

What exactly do the powers that Betsy and I have, matter inside the ring?

The answer to that is... nothing.

Is this another excuse? Another random grasping at straws? Another random blurb that means complete fuck all in the grand scheme of things?

Yeah... yeah it is.

When have we ever used them inside of the ring on an opponent?

Never.

Do they have anything to do with us in our careers in the XWF?

Nope.

They don’t mean a damn thing... hey, like your mask! Right Bourbs?!

Just another pitiful, whining narrative, used as filler for these sad little cunts to try and... what, exactly? Who the fuck knows to be honest. They bitch about it in both of their promos when it literally has no bearing on anything. Quite frankly, it sounds like one hell of a cop out excuse to drag out of their asses when we beat them for the Tag Team belts...

And beat them we will.

Putting the tag titles around the waists of two people who both actually respect the meaning of the word, championship.”

Lycana’s eyes harden, her face twisting into a malicious sneer.

“Two women, who will actually treat the belts with the respect that they are due, and not abandon our posts when it gets too hot in the kitchen.

Who won’t disappear with nary a whimper when the going gets tough, or lay down and play dead like a wounded possum.

You’d know all about that sort of thing, wouldn’t you Bobby?

You guys decided to bring up all this info about this belt and that title run and well... I took a little trip down memory lane, and imagine my surprise when I found out just how shabbily Mr. Bourbon here has the nerve to treat the top belt in the federation while he held it!

Not only did he not bother to even open his mouth during the weeks leading up to this match, to hype up the Uni or even act like he gave half a shit about it... he decided he was going to go on record as the biggest JOKE the world has ever had the misfortune to lay eyes upon.

What did he do?

He tried to lay down in the middle of the damn ring... Throw himself to the ground like the gelatinous puddle that he is and allow one, Danny Imperial to just take it... like the spineless coward I always knew he was. Instead, he sickened his opponent, who left the quivering Jello mold where he lay and left. But even THAT wasn’t all... nope. Just when you think this head shaker couldn’t get more pathetic... we keep right on going, in typical Bastard fashion, even way back then.

Because Bourbon was then given an absolutely luscious dressing down by Vinnie Lane... followed by being stripped...STRIPPED... of the Universal title.

What a fucking disgrace.

You know, you have some real nerve coming after anybody about their title runs, or how they lost things when you have this on your record.

I might have not been in this for the belts, I said that championships were not all that important to me... but at least I fucking showed the X the respect it deserved while carrying it. At least I came out and did my promos. I came out and gave my all to defend it and there is no damn shame in taking a loss in any way, shape or form, compared to belly flopping like a fucking slug and not trying at all. What a craven little pussy you are.

And that wasn’t even the only time was it? No...

High Stakes and the Hart title anyone?

Are we seeing a theme here? I certainly am!

You have a real tendency to shit the bed when things get a little dicey. Perhaps you have a little too much on your plate. Trying to juggle too much all at the same time...

And my oh my... you have already started to blame OCW for you slipping up against Betsy on Warfare. How long is it before you bitch out on something? How long before you screw up yet again? Before you start to sweat the details and fail to show up, in body or spirit? You already made one misstep Bourbs, you can’t afford another... You goof like you did and she and I, will be all over it again and all you can do is hope that your precious little Teeks doesn’t get knocked the fuck out like he did, so he can come and attempt to rescue your ass.”

”You want to know what the biggest difference between the Shooting Star title and these tag belts are? Jenny Myst was an annoying pest who needed to be brought down several pegs. I never truly wanted to be pigeon-holed into a glorified cruiserweight division, so I did what I had to do to claw my way out of it. If that meant letting Atara Themis have some fun at Leap of Faith, so be it. We put on a match of the year candidate that fans are still buzzing about, even now. That match ended exactly the way it was meant to, with the victor gaining spoils she coveted more than anyone.

Becoming a tag champion with one of the fiercest female competitors in the industry? BONUS!

Unlike the Shooting Star title, the tag team belts are something I’ve been quietly attempting to pursue for quite some time. That’s the fun part about being a female at times; unlike the loud, blustering noises of men to announce they are coming, I waited until the perfect moment to let you two buffoons know what was going to happen. I never needed to make my intentions known in order to act them out and get all the pieces I needed dropped into place. I considered asking many a person, from my friends in Apex, to Brother Mine, of course James...

I DID ask Dolly Waters, but she’s occupied.

Funniest thing, my search for the perfect tag partner was still longer than either of your collective singles title histories put together.

But we’ll save that for next time; we’ve already spent more than enough on Them Worthless Shitheads.”

]]>

I can take the heat
Go on and throw your shade
You think that you’re the only one who’s ever taken aim
I fight like a machine
I’ve never been afraid
Keep throwing your grenades and I’ll say
Bombs away

___________________________________________________________________________________

Her head was spinning as if she were on a runaway carousel as the hazy, faint, first stages of consciousness began to creep up on her. She feels bile rising in her throat as she becomes aware of the slight bumping her body was taking, the motion threatening to cause her breakfast to make a very unwanted reappearance. As she starts to come to more, more unwanted aches make their presence known. A mild throb on her forehead from when she had quite elegantly crashed face first into Excellence’s control console. The sharp stab in her temple from the cane of...

Her eyes fly open.

And immediately crash shut again, as her stomach lurches violently in protest. Colors swirls behind her eyes as she struggles to maintain control of her body.

Lycana struggles with her breathing, forcing her roiling innards to subside. Once the threat of her vomiting all over had calmed to a level she could handle, she tentatively cracked an eyelid once more, immediately regretting it.

The sidewalk swayed, even that small motion having the effect of a rollercoaster on her guts as she bites back a groan. She grits her teeth as the fog slowly lifts from her brain, and she becomes more aware of the position she was in.

Upside down to be precise.

Riding high above the ground courtesy of the shoulder of one of the unsavory fellows that had bopped her and...

BETSY!

She wiggles, trying to catch sight of her friend, a soft moan escaping her, and instead finds the world becoming a blur for a few seconds as she is tossed unceremoniously to the ground in front of her ‘ride’, landing with a thud on her ass.

“Eh there girl, no spewing on the suit, you hear? Its new.”

Lycana lets her gaze travel up from the polished black shoes, shimmering in the sun, over the neatly pressed pants legs in what appeared to be dark gray... Up to the starched white shirt, with a gray vest buttoned over the top, partially covered by the gray jacket, skipping over the face of her captor to land on the... you guessed it... gray hat perched jauntily on his slicked back hair.

She drops her line of sight, to look at the face of the man who was idly twirling his cane as she perused him. Beady dark eyes in a weather worn face full of pockmarks that could have been anywhere from late twenties to forties. Ugly AF. A cigarette hung from his lower lip, clinging with no signs of movement as if it had been superglued. The end glows... with no color... as he puffs on it, slow realization dawning on just where HE was looking.

She snaps her thighs shut, a thunderous scowl appearing on her face. This was why she never fucking wore dresses. She sucks in a deep lungful of air, prepared to let him, and everyone in the vicinity know what was going on.

“I don’t recommend that, unless you want another smooch to the head with this.” he lifts the cane.

Just as her mouth opens to emit a grand ‘fuck you’, movement captures her attention, the air leaving her lungs with a soft whoosh instead of the expletives she had intended. “Betsy...” she whispers the word as she spies the very angry blond, wrapped up tight in the arms of the other fellow, a hand smushed over her mouth.

Lycana’s ride gestures with the cigarette. “There see, your friend is awake too, all safe with Sobby. Put ‘er down.”

And from the rumpled look of his clothing, she had given him quite the battle before he gained the upper hand and subdued the Impossible Traveler.

“Alright Blunder.”

The heavyset lump with brillo pad like, matted hair ignores the muffled snarl that emerges from under his palm, moving forward to drop his bundle next to Lycana. “Yeah, you better put me down, you dirty, rotten, son of a... Lycana! Are you okay?”

Before Lycana could reply, Blunder talks over them.

“You dames are coming with us, either under your own power or we can carry ya again. Your choice.”

Betsy and Lycana share a long, silent glance, both knowing they had little choice in the matter, at least right now. Both started slowly helping each other to their feet, tugging down skirts as they went. With a simple nod, the greasy Blunder led the way down a rather shady looking alley while the giant wall of flubber, Sobby, took up the rear, leaving the barest crack of sunlight between him and the colorless brick walls that loomed above.

A pause outside of a normal looking door. A knock that sounded suspiciously like a code and it cracked open. Words were exchanged and the girls were ushered into a dusty bookstore, through the stacks and stacks of tomes, all neatly arranged on the shelves. Behind the counter...

And there they stand, looking at a yawning hole in the ground, stairs seeming to lead into nothing.

“Well c’mon then, we don’t have all day.” the prod of the cane at the base of their spine and they move forward, carefully treading down the rickety steps, each one groaning its displeasure at the weight of the women.

Betsy glares at Blunder and Sobby, before falling in close beside Lycana. While the two henchmen are distracted with the path ahead, the girls lean their heads in close together and begin to plot in desperate whispers.

“How do we get out of this one, Bets?” Lycana hisses through her teeth, keeping her blue eyes locked on Blunder.

“I’m still thinking on it, but for now, just play along. The best thing we can do now is get a feel for where we are and study everything around us. Maybe the answer to our escape is hidden in plain sight.”

“Play along... I can do that. Where do you think we are?”

”Everything around us suggests 1920s Chicago, the height of prohibition, gangsters, and...”

“Hey, enough of that whispering! We’ll have no funny business from you dames, you hear?”

With a face full of rage, Betsy snaps her mouth shut as the foursome continues underground in silence. They hit the bottom of the stairs, and walk slowly towards the faint glow, outlining another door. Blunder opens it, bathing them in soft light as they step into another world, Sobby squeezing in close behind.

The bar was empty, giving no indication of the patrons that would soon sneak in, paying good money to fill its interior and sip the forbidden sweetness of alcohol. The Vixen and the Impossible Traveler blink their eyes as they adapt to the dimness of the interior, a soft sound drawing their attention. A barkeep, slowly running a rag in circular motions over the wooden top of the bar. He gives no indication that he even notices the arrivals, studiously keeping his head bent to his task.

“The Boss?” Only two words, but the meaning was clear.

Without looking, the barkeep simply jerks his head towards a hallway still further into the building. The little parade moves silently forward, and Lycana finds her gaze on the shimmering bottles of liquor, her hand itching to get ahold of one to smash over the head of their captors. Instead, she looks over to Betsy, who had the same longing look in her eyes as she stares at the glassware. With a soft sigh, Betsy glances at Lycana, catching her stare. They offer up small smiles at one another, fingers automatically reaching out to touch as they give each other a reassuring squeeze. No matter what was through that door, they would face it together.

Blunder stands aside, motioning them to go first, and without a moment hesitation, they do, finding themselves in a shockingly plush office. A large, gleaming desk dominates the room... and behind that desk, sitting in the chair, his presence somehow taking up the entire room sat who they only knew right now as... The Boss.

Betsy gasps at the young, powerful looking man in the pinstriped suit behind the desk. His face was friendly enough, though it was hard to miss the glint of evil in his dark eyes. A cigarette hung loosely from heavily ringed fingers as his free hand scrawled something against a personalized notepad. He merely nodded towards his henchmen as Betsy and Lycana are thrust further into the room, indicating that the women should be seated at the desk before him. The girls are inserted roughly into their chairs, each one held in place by one of the goons in The Boss’ employee.

When The Boss finally finishes up his notetaking, he finally draws his eyes up and studies each girl carefully. “What brings a couple of beautiful dames to my city?”

“YOUR city?” Betsy sputters.

“Yeah, birdie, MY city and the two YOU have trespassed into it without my permission. Why? Who do you work for?”

“Work for?” Lycana asks, sounding just as dumbfounded as Betsy.

Frustration is obvious in The Boss’ face as he rises from the uncomfortable looking chair behind the large desk. “Yes, work for. As in, who sent you? A lot of these jamokes thing they can come into my city and claim my turf. I’ll bet it was Dillinger, that bastard... I wouldn’t put this past the Bugs and Meyer Gang to be this bold, either.”

Both girls eyes widen as the names of some of the most notorious gangsters of the Public Enemy era escape his lips. Betsy’s heart begins to pound as she realizes that they might just be stuck in 1920s Chicago.

“What about Al?” Lycana chimes in suddenly.

“Capone?” All three men throw their heads back and howl with laughter. “That clown can barely tie his own shoes, let alone take over MY ring. But if that’s an admission as to who sent you...”

“That was a suggestion as to who may be trying to take over your outfit... But that’s it. I’ve never met the guy personally, Betsy?”

Even through the grey hues of their world, Betsy’s face begins to burn with guilt. Blunder notices as his grip on her shoulders tightens. “Look at ‘er, Boss! Guilty as anything!”

“Hey, I only met him once, but I’m no associate of his!” Betsy protests, attempting to rise from her seat. Blunder forces her back down as The Boss stands up straight.

His full height is intimidating as he comes around the desk and rests himself on the edge, leaning in close to both girls. His voice is deadly soft when he speaks to them. “You dames had best come clean or you won’t like what happens to you.”

“We’re telling you the truth, you stupid son of a bitch.” Lycana growls, her impatience clear. “We’re just two friends travelling the world who happened to get a little lost after some engine trouble. We don’t want any trouble; we just want to get back on track.”

“Sounds like a bunch of nonsense to me, Boss.” Sobby says, an evil grin crossing his face. “I say we take ‘em down cellar and use them as our personal playthings.”

Both women tense up at this, eyeing up The Boss as he appraises them once more. With a nod, he rises and strolls back around to the business side of his desk. “They do make quite a lovely pair; easy on the eyes and bodies like gunpowder. Y’know son, sometimes you manage to come up with a good idea or two from time to time.”

Sobby beams at the compliment, his grip on Lycana becoming more possessive. “Gee, thanks Boss!”

“We’re not going to sit here and allow any of you to use us as anything.” Betsy snarls, fighting in earnest against Blunder now. “You can’t just-”

“I can do whatever I want, girlie, as you’ll soon find out. And you would do best to keep your pretty little mouth shut and accept whatever comes your way. You would also do well to thank your lucky stars I’ve decided to be merciful with you two dames; I could send you back to your boss in pieces, you know.”

With a practiced flick of his wrist, he dismisses the room. Throwing each of the struggling girls over their shoulders, Betsy and Lycana are unceremoniously taken to the pits of the speakeasy and tossed onto a damp, cold stone floor. Betsy scrambles to her feet first as the cage door is swung shut with a loud bang and locked by a key on a ring of many. Committing what the ring looked like to memory, she narrows her green eyes at Blunder and Sobby who both look at her through the bars like a hot meal.

“Tonight is going to be fun, love.” Blunder says, standing so close to Betsy she can smell the stale beer and cigarettes on his breath. “You may not like it now, but you’ll be my gal by the end of the night. You’ll see.”

Blowing her a kiss, Blunder and Sobby laugh mirthlessly as they disappear through a heavy, wooden door. Betsy hears this get locked as well, and now the girls are good and trapped underground with only the dim light of oil lamps to scan the room with. Turning to Lycana, her eyes are hard like emeralds, alert and skipping around the room as she spoke.

“Obvious point coming, we have to figure a way out of here; the not so obvious is the how. My lightsaber is still aboard Excellence, along with my sonic pen. The only thing we have that we could possibly use is the bit of gunpowder that spilled from the barrel by our cage. It’s way risky, though; the noise could attract them upstairs, never mind what it could do to us in close range down here.”

When she realizes the length of Lycana’s silence after her spiel, Betsy finally rests her green eyes on where the sapphire vixen had been standing. The spot was empty.

Turning, Betsy notices that Lycana’s eyes had begun to glow as she stepped up to the bars of the cage as though hypnotized. For Lycana, the world had faded away around her as the sweetest song she’d ever heard filled her head, spreading a comforting warmth through her entire body.

It had started in the farthest recesses of her mind, a teasing little distraction that she couldn’t quite put her finger on as she had listened to Betsy, struggling to maintain her focus as the sound became more insistent. A light tug on the very essence of her being, as if fairies were fluttering about, urging her onwards to... to... she didn’t know, but she found one foot stepping forward on its own accord.

What am I doing? bewildered, she stares at the foot that had moved. The song was louder now, clearer and she found herself sinking within its spell, allowing it to weave its way through her mind, taking over everything with its delicate notes. What is this? What is going on? wonderment trickles through her veins, as her heart began to thrum with an urge she could not put a name to. What are you? She felt almost silly, for that second, asking questions inside her own head of a song... but it seemed nearly to answer her, the tone swirling in tempting tendrils through her mind, beckoning her forward, ever forward...

And she answers.

She moves, though it seemed to her she was floating on a cloud, drawn by the invisible thread that shimmered between her and whatever was making this music inside her soul. She slowly stepped across the cell, unerringly drawn toward the door. Could this be...? she wondered to herself, and almost immediately the barest lilt in the music seemed to answer her not fully spoken question. A comfort that she had never known washes over her body, like she was being wrapped in the softest, cuddliest blanket in the world... and it was then she knew. My crystal... Elation fills her heart, confirming her thoughts. She had not known it would be like this, the soothing melody a literal sirens song to her. A gentle balm making her feel that all was well. Featherlight tugs insisted she keep coming, though she could no longer, thanks to the barrier that blocked her way.

Betsy’s voice cuts through her mind, momentarily blocking out the song as Lycana turns to her partner, eyes normal once more. “Betsy... It’s here.”

“What’s here?” asks The Impossible Traveler, confusion touching her face for a moment.

“The crystal... I can hear it. It’s here.”

Betsy’s eyes widen as her jaw drops. ”Kyber crystals here? What the hell are kyber crystals doing in 1920-something Chicago?”

“Because once again, Betsy Granger, you’ve managed to end up right in the middle of an Imperial scheme.”

From the shadows, a cloaked figure emerges, darting on silent feet across the stone floor. Hope explodes through Betsy as electric blue eyes appear from the darkness before her and peer into her face. Lycana drinks in the gorgeous Togruta, admiring the pale orange hue of her skin, the intricate designs etched within her face around the eyes, as well as the blue stained design against white montrails, the ends of which peaked out from under her hood.

”Ahsoka!” Betsy cries out breathlessly, relief so heavy she nearly bursts into tears. ”Wait, what are YOU doing here?! You said this has something to do with Thrawn?”

”Time and place, lil sis.” Another voice joins them from the shadows, a male timber so recognizable to them both that they exchange a surprised look.

“Caedus?” Lycana asks, a slight edge in her tone. Betsy can feel her body tense next to her and puts a comforting hand on Lycana’s shoulder.

”The one and only. You don’t sound so happy to see me, toots.”

Indeed, the difference of reaction between the girls couldn’t have been more obvious. Betsy’s face breaks out into a full grin as she rattles the cage a bit in greeting, whereas Lycana’s face darkens a bit, arms crossing over her chest as she glares at him from under her long eyelashes. Ignoring Lycana’s sour greeting, he steps up in front of Betsy and grins back at her.

”When we did that Star Wars bit, you never told me some of that shit was real! Ahsoka Tano, Bets? You’re friends with Ahsoka Fucking Tano?”

”Uh... There’s still a lot to catch you up on Jimmy, but now really isn’t the best time for all of that.”

Jim nods his agreement, the exuberant smile fading from his face as a look of business and a serious air take hold. Strolling over to the hinges, he begins to take them out, but Ahsoka rests a hand on his arm to stop him. Everyone looks at her confused as her wise blue eyes peer back into the cage, resting on Lycana.

“Betsy, did I hear this girl correctly?”

Catching the stern tone in Ahsoka’s voice, Betsy puts on the best innocent face she can muster. She hopes her tone doesn’t hitch and give her away. “Depends on what you heard?”

“You two are searching for a kyber crystal for her?” Ahsoka’s eyes narrow as Betsy’s gaze drops guiltily to the floor. “You know I will always help you in any task you ask of me, Betsy Granger, but I cannot aid you in this.”

Lycana’s head jerks upward indignantly, her flame-filled eyes meeting Ahsoka’s. “And exactly why not?”

“I sense much anger in you... impatience... fear.” Ahsoka’s gaze never wavers. “These consume you and will only lead you down a dark path. I will not assist in sending you down that path.”

”Now wait just a moment, my friend.” Betsy’s green eyes are pleading as she pokes her head through the bars. ”I know what I’m doing, and I... I trust her. Completely. She’s not just my tag partner, she’s my friend and she’s in a rather similar stage of her life as I am. Now we know our fates are linked... The least I can do is help her adjust to the craziness of my half of it.”

Ahsoka seems to want to respond, but something in Lycana’s turbulent eyes stills her, allowing the cerulean vixen to plead her case before she slams the lid down on the idea. “The journey I took to get where I am, I have learned. I admit it, I was never able to rein in my temper the way it should have. I have done... things... and I own them.” her voice fades slightly as she seems to ruminate, carefully choosing her words. “I have also changed. I do not rush headlong into situations, and I no longer allow emotions to control me.”

She sucks in a soft breath, lids dropping to shutter her eyes as her head bows. “I don’t pretend that it is easy, the old me is always there along the edges, old habits die hard and all that...” her voice firms as she raises her face once more, determination flaring to life with the steely depths of her orbs. “But it will not get the better of me.”

Ahsoka looks between the women, hesitation still evident in her expression. Her gaze lingers on Lycana for a few moments longer before she finally motions for Jimmy to finish the task he’d started. As soon as the final hinge of the cage door was removed, Ahsoka used the Force to quietly dispatch of it across the room. As soon as the gap was wide enough, Lycana burst out of it and headed for the spot she could feel the crystal calling to her from. Ahsoka leans in close to Betsy as they watch her, whispering low.

“I don’t like this, Betsy... You could be setting yourself for your biggest fall yet.”

”She made mistakes, so have I; if I deserved a second chance, shouldn’t she?”

“You aren’t as prone to giving in to the Dark Side as she is; your anger was able to managed. She lives with a rage that consumes her very soul and fear in her heart for situations she can’t control. She’s impulsive, impatient... It’s risky, Betsy.”

”I think you give me entirely too much credit...” Betsy mutters, pushing down dark memories that threatened to pour from her lips.

Lycana follows the pull, some hidden force leading her once more, tuning out the muted conversation behind her. It didn’t matter right now. A vague sort of haze drops down across the edges of her vision, the pleasant cloudy feeling overtaking her once more as the enchanting song calls to her. She pauses for a moment next to Caedus, peering around him as he stares at her curiously.“You okay, girl?”

She pauses, gaze still locked behind him. “I will be when I find it.”

“You seem surprised I showed up.” the rumbling tone was neutral as ice blue collides with sterling, his interaction pulling her slightly back, away from the insistent tugging.

“You came for Betsy.” she points out the obvious.

“I would have come for you too.” he replies, earning a small frown.

“Why?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do. I don’t hate you, you know.” But she was already fading back out, the words slow to sink in, intermingling with the song, not truly computing as she slowly shifts her body, searching... seeking... the call unrelenting, adamant that she gives in. But this was not the right spot...

No. Not here. She allows her eyes to flit across his face, offering a genial head bob in response before edging around him and heading towards a bunch of things stacked in the corner, darkened by shadows.

A loud clatter above their heads causes all four of them to pause where they stood, looking around cautiously. A few panicked shouts are heard followed closely by several gunshots. A moment later, the familiar sound of a door being unlocked and pushed open echoes down the basement.

”They’re coming!” Betsy hisses loudly, reaching instinctively for the lightsaber that wasn’t there.

Lycana turns to her, eyes glowing slightly violet and faraway from the room as she glances blindly at Betsy. “I need more time... It’s here, I can feel it.”

Heavy footsteps clamor down the stairs now.

“It’s now or never, girl.” Caedus says, swiftly sliding two blasters from his thigh holsters and twirling them over his fingers like a proper gunslinger.

Ahsoka tosses Betsy a spare lightsaber; Betsy ignites it, reveling in the satisfying sizzing hiss as it’s yellow light fills the room. Sobby appears first, followed closely by Blunder, both of whom have their guns drawn. Surprise fills both their faces as they pause, taking in the scene before their eyes.

“The dames are trying to escape!”

Blunder lifts his gun, aiming at Ahsoka, but Jimmy comes from the shadows and tackles him to the ground. Before Sobby could register what was happening, Ahsoka springs forward on nimble feet and lands her feet against his chest with ease. As she uses the momentum to do a flip back to her feet, Sobby stumbles backward, gasping for air. All hell breaks loose as Ahsoka and Jimmy are quickly embroiled in battle with the sleezy henchmen.

As the distraction carries out, Betsy reaches under her shirt and grabs at a key hanging from a chain. Wrapping her fingers around it and closing her eyes, she begins to send out a telepathic message, hoping her recipient was close enough to receive it.

Meanwhile, Lycana continues her desperate search, the song overtaking even the loud fight carrying on around her. Lifting the lids off of barrels and crates, sifting through gunpowder and home-brewed liquors... still nothing. Yet the song was growing more powerful by the second, her heart hammering to it loudly like a bass dropping at the hottest dance club you’ve ever been to. For a brief moment, despair hits her heart as she begins to wonder if the stone would ever show itself to her...

… And that’s when destiny reared her head.

As Betsy’s green eyes snapped open, a bullet blew past her, narrowly missing her by inches. Jimmy lets out a roar of rage and drills the butte of his blaster hard overtop of Blunder’s skull. The big man’s eyes roll up into his head as a stupid grin crosses his face before his lids flutter shut and he slumps heavily onto the ground. His crashing body landed just in front of Lycana’s feet and into a pile of crates that Lycana had been about to root through. She clicks her tongue in frustration as the crates crash down loudly all around them... Until a bright, white glow fills her entire field of vision.

Betsy watches in what felt like slow-motion as the crates spilled thousands of the crystals all over the damp floors. Ahsoka gasps, also spotting the unexpected loot scattering all around them. It’s right about here that The Boss joins the party, of course. He does a quick look around, noticing that Blunder was neutralized and Sobby had his hands full with Ahsoka and Jimmy. Finally, they land on Lycana, who has fallen to her knees before a singular crystal that was glowing brightly. A smirk crosses his smarmy face as he reaches for the pistol hidden in his suit jacket...

When a yellow light ignites just in front of his throat and a woman’s voice floats into his ear. ”I wouldn’t do that if I were you, big boy. All your weapons on the ground, now.

“Easy now, doll, we can talk this out.” Even still, The Boss does as he’s told. Ahsoka now has Sobby subdued and Jimmy has joined Betsy, holding his blaster right between the fellow’s eyes.

“I believe the time for talking has long passed us by.” Ahsoka says, holding her own lightsaber in The Boss’ direction now. “Except for the part where you tell me how you came to be in possession of so many of these crystals.”

As Ahsoka and Jimmy interrogate The Boss, Betsy floats over to Lycana, who is still staring at the glowing stone with fascination. Recognizing the doubt in her friends eyes, Betsy places a comforting hand on Lycana’s shoulder and squeezes gently. ”It’s calling to you... Take it.

Needing little more prompting, Lycana reaches out as if hypnotized and finally wraps her fingers around the crystal. The moment her skin hits the smooth surface, the glowing white light darkens to a purplish-blue hue. Lycana turns her eyes up to Betsy, a shine within them that had never been there before. “This feeling...”

“I know.” Betsy says gently, helping Lycana to her feet.

Snapping out of her reverie, Lycana palms the crystal and squeezes it firmly before slipping it safely into her bra. “You know, I really miss my pockets about now.”

Betsy giggles in surprise at the off-hand remark, but nods her agreement as they turn back to Jimmy and Ahsoka. The Boss was in the midst of a rambling confession.

“... I swear I meant no harm in hoarding all those space rocks, really! I was only following orders from the strange blue fella that came from the sky!”

”Strange blue fella?! Betsy and Ahsoka exchange a look.

“So Thrawn is behind this.” Ahsoka says gently, earning her Lycana’s full attention.

“The same guy who’s been after Betsy? What would he want with all these crystals?”

”He’ll want them for his Inquisitors... Or something far worse.” Betsy replies softly.

A loud whooshing noise fills the room and moments later, Excellence materializes within the cage. Despite herself, Lycana grins at the ship, never more relieved to have seen the phone booth in her life. Turning back to the group, she throws a thumb over her should and smiles. “Our ride has arrived.”

”And not a moment too soon.” Betsy says sarcastically. ”So what do we do with all this? We can’t leave them here for the Empire to pick up.”

“And they can’t go back to Ilum... I think I know a place, though.” Ahsoka says, grabbing one of the crates and scooping the stones into it. “I have a feeling we don’t have much time before Thrawn gets here, so let’s get these bad boys onto your ship and get out of here.”

Without hesitation, the other three follow Ahsoka’s lead; before long, the crew has all the stones accumulated and stored safely within Excellence. Betsy saunters over to the control console and begins flipping switches. ”So... Where to?”

(Part Three Coming Soon!)

****Words With a Shimmer****

“It never fails, does it?

Each and every time I step up to watch you two assholes run your mouths, I think that I have seen the very pinnacle... and each and every time, I am proven wrong.

There's another damn level of stupidity to the Bastards that I had never before DREAMED possible.

And yet, here we are... with this little gem.

“Show up, Jump Them No Good Bastards.”

Hollllllllld on just a second here. I know you two don’t pay attention to jack shit, but are you two completely blind as fuck as well? Because let me tell you something, that is certainly not what I saw going down on Warfare. And I'm pretty damn sure anybody with eyeballs, saw the exact same thing I did.

What I saw, was Betsy Granger smashing your face into the mat, and pinning those shoulders for the three count.

Then, you proceeded to disgust the world by taking off your mask and giving insight as to why you hid that shit in the first place. I could have gone another six years not knowing, believe me!

THEN... THEN Bourbsy... this is where I think it gets a little hazy for you, but don’t worry! I'll clear this right up for ya! THEN Ol’ Thunder Knuckles came bouncing into the ring, and well, let's be real, every time you two played the numbers game, it never seemed to end well for Bets. It just didn’t seem to me that you two were in there together to give her a foot massage and a spa treatment.

So, forgive me, for coming down to the ring to watch the back of my partner!

What a sin!

How DARE I get into the ring and stand by her side like I did! What an atrocious crime!

Maybe you should have blockaded me into the bathroom, like you did Caedus.

You know... when you two jumped Betsy like you and the rest of the shitheads in BoB do.

All.

The.

Damn.

Time.

Nah, you know what.... fuck you Bobby.

You’re the one that had the gumption to invite TK out and think that nothing would come from it. You’re the one that stepped your flabby ass forward and motioned us on. And then you’re the one who couldn’t handle the heat that you invited onto yourself. You’re the one that turned tail and ran off with TK like the pathetic little pissy twats that you are.

Way to prove what I’ve been saying, that neither of you two cowardly fucks, have any balls to speak of.

We came out to jump the Bastards.... please.

This sounds to me that Bourbon is all ass hurt that nobody gave a shit about his precious mask. This sounds to me that Bourbon is feeling a little emasculated that Betsy beat his fucking ass in that ring when he didn’t think she could. This sounds to me like Bourbon is being a whining, crying little bitch who needs a fresh diaper and a bottle because he can't handle things not going his way without a tantrum.

And they say women are the crybaby emotional ones?

I present to you, Bobby Bourbon! Biggest Bitch of them all!

Don’t worry though Bourbs, you certainly have the tits for it.”

Betsy watches Lycana in open fascination and admiration as the blue-haired vixen some things off her chest. With a grin, Betsy turns to the camera.

“How does one follow some hard-hitting facts such as those? It’s about time the Bastards got a taste of their own medicine and I’m in the mood to shove the bitter pill down their throats. Besides, it would be petty of me not to correct their moronic diatribes; we wouldn’t want them looking even more half-witted than they already are, now would we?

Take, for instance, this adorable little Bill and Ted rip-off you guys have been attempting recently. Listen, I’m flattered that you guys look up to me so much that felt the need to do a trash imitation of what I’ve already perfected, I am. But as the real deal, let me give you a bit of advice: quit while you’re ahead. If you think Stephen Moffatt would cringe at the things I’ve done, wait until Keanu Reeves sees the way you two managed to butcher one of his most iconic roles. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to go full John Wick on both your flubbery fool asses for the stupid shit you’re trying to pull. Are the two of you so out of ideas that you would turn to the same route your craven leader would use against me?

Well... I suppose that question is a bit redundant since we’re witnessing you fucktards doing absolutely that in real-time.

Also, I suppose it’s time for me to clear something up for the billionth time, since you two, among many other vapid twatwaffles, seem unable to grasp this. James and I? Yeah, we’re not married. Why does this matter? Because it’s more weaksauce, desperate, bullshit filler you would try to use to get under my skin; don’t you know by now saying his name won’t summon him? It’s fucking hilarious to me how the two of you use me to call him out for month, chasing him down on Twitter like a couple of Simping Stans and the moment he arrives, you act like he ain’t shit. That’s condition knows as PABS- Pussy Ass Bitch Syndrome and Doctor Betsy is here to deliver the unfortunate news that both of you have a terminal case of it.

It’s always a shame when a bitch needs to be put down, but the two of you are long overdue.

Look around guys- I'm the only member of Legacy left who gives half a fuck about the XWF. James and Shawn come when I call them, that’s what family does for one another. Do you really think either one of them would have refused me if I’d asked them to be in Lycana’s spot? Please, all three of us have already beaten the two of you at least once. It wouldn’t have been any sweat off my back to call in either one of my boys to bounce the two of you around like oversized basketballs once again. Hell, we could make a full-blown sport of ripping apart Them No Good Bastards at this point. It isn’t about Legacy at this point, it’s the ideals we stood by. A code of loyalty that has never wavered and that I now share with the sapphire dream at my side.

So why Lycana?

Despite popular belief that I think her supernatural abilities give us an edge of any sort, it’s not the magic she possesses that draws me to her. Fact is, Lycana and Marf have been after these two blobs for months with undesirable results. The Dissentients should have been the tag team champions months ago, and it makes me sick that it’s come to this to tear those belts off the over-expanded waists of Da Bastids.

Lycana is due.

Have you been paying attention, boys? When have you ever seen this icy beauty so fired up before? As top-tier a team as the Dissentients are, Lycana needed a womans assist to finally grab what she’s been chasing for so many months. Here’s the part that makes this extra dangerous for you two: she’s not just doing this for herself. In reality, it should be Marf standing by her side at Relentless as they lift their newly won tag team titles in the air, but destiny has decided to throw us a curveball instead. It will be bittersweet for her indeed when it’s at my side that she’ll finally have that moment of glory, lifting one of those pretty tag belts in the air.

But she doesn’t seem to mind.

Because like me, The Dissentients know that continuing the crumbling downfall of BoB is the most important task there is. And yanking the rug out from under the clown-feet of Them No Good Bastards would make a mighty fine addition to the snowball that’s already barreling them towards a collision with all hell. Lycana and I share the same goal, and we’re both at the end of our ropes when it comes to Thunder Knuckles and Bobby Bourbon.

Ropes that I’d love to use to tie them to that stupid electrified cage we’ll be cozied up in.

I’m going to enjoy watching you two butterball bitchkins fry like piggies.”

The Impossible Traveler pauses as she glances over at Lycana for a moment.

”As to what happened at Warfare, well... I think my partner here definitely took the bull by the horns on that one.

Lycana and I jumped the Bastards? Last I checked, both of you left on your own two feet with nary a scratch on your surface fat. I know it’s hard to believe that Lycana would only come out to make sure I stayed in one piece, but let the tapes speak for themselves. Bourbs... Sorry the unmasking was a wash, but I hope it showed you the reality of The Bastards situation. Not a single soul in that place gave a shit about you taking that sweat-catcher off, no one will give a fuck if you put a new one back on. Switch them up if you want, just keep that ugly mug of yours out of view. Even if the stupid thing had magical powers, it wouldn’t matter in the ring, remember? Last I checked, there was some dumbass magic blocker that prevents any unfair advantages.

Whoops, maybe y’all should have thought that one through before you tried to use it as another paper-thin point to make on us.

Besides, what was going to happen when ol’ TK came down to the ring, hmmm? Only an idiot would believe the two of you were going to let me pass peacefully; that’s not the Bastards style, never was, never will be. What, he was just coming down to comfort you after that stinging loss he suffered to me? Sure, and the next thing you’ll tell me is that we were all going to form a peace circle and sing Kumbaya while smoking a blunt. The two of you were going to take the last opportunity you had to take me out as much as you could before Relentless.

Now you’re butthurt as fuck because Lycana decided to not leave her partner hanging in that situation solo.

Funny how it’s cool when the two of you sneak attack, but the moment my partner shows up to have my back, it’s scandalous and pathetic. Fuck right off outta here with that Primadonna, double-standard bullshit. The two of you got played at your own fucking game and you can’t stand it. Now look how you backtrack, crying wolf (no put intended) on Lycana and I. It’s not so fun when the tables start to turn, is it?

Warfare was only the beginning of the humiliation Lycana and I have prepared for the two of you. Please, continue to blow your hot air into the camera, with your poorly contrived plan of attack against us.

And to our doubters, I don’t want to hear shit from you mother fuckers when Lycana and I claim our prize. So many of you think the task of beating the Bastards is going to take more than Lycana and Betsy Granger; go on, then. Continue to book your bets against us, make them extravagant and be loud about it. I want to remember every single face in the crowd leading up to Relentless who would stop Lycana and I just to tell us we’re in over our heads. I’ll etch to memory those of you who would repeat the witless drivel that the Bastards continue to spurt on the daily. It’s as mind-numbing as watching a State of Address from Forty-Five. It doesn’t help that Them Bastards share his laughable ignorance and have no problem showing that every time they open their mouths.

It gets harder to take you guys seriously by the day, and luckily, those days are just about numbered.”

“Excuse followed by excuse, followed by excuse... Holy shit. Might I just reiterate that the two of you don’t pay attention to a damn thing?

I get a new power every few seconds huh? That’s news to me. I wish I was told what they were so I could, you know. Start learning them. Last I checked... the only magical things I have come into possession of, were a particular bell that does some pretty nifty things, during Leap of Faith but nah, we couldn’t be talking about way back in MAY now could we? You said every two seconds! And that’s not even a power... Shit, that certainly means you couldn’t possibly be talking about when I brought Reika back in March? No? Then damn... I give up. You’ll have to enlighten me. I do have one.... teensy tiny little question though...

What exactly do the powers that Betsy and I have, matter inside the ring?

The answer to that is... nothing.

Is this another excuse? Another random grasping at straws? Another random blurb that means complete fuck all in the grand scheme of things?

Yeah... yeah it is.

When have we ever used them inside of the ring on an opponent?

Never.

Do they have anything to do with us in our careers in the XWF?

Nope.

They don’t mean a damn thing... hey, like your mask! Right Bourbs?!

Just another pitiful, whining narrative, used as filler for these sad little cunts to try and... what, exactly? Who the fuck knows to be honest. They bitch about it in both of their promos when it literally has no bearing on anything. Quite frankly, it sounds like one hell of a cop out excuse to drag out of their asses when we beat them for the Tag Team belts...

And beat them we will.

Putting the tag titles around the waists of two people who both actually respect the meaning of the word, championship.”

Lycana’s eyes harden, her face twisting into a malicious sneer.

“Two women, who will actually treat the belts with the respect that they are due, and not abandon our posts when it gets too hot in the kitchen.

Who won’t disappear with nary a whimper when the going gets tough, or lay down and play dead like a wounded possum.

You’d know all about that sort of thing, wouldn’t you Bobby?

You guys decided to bring up all this info about this belt and that title run and well... I took a little trip down memory lane, and imagine my surprise when I found out just how shabbily Mr. Bourbon here has the nerve to treat the top belt in the federation while he held it!

Not only did he not bother to even open his mouth during the weeks leading up to this match, to hype up the Uni or even act like he gave half a shit about it... he decided he was going to go on record as the biggest JOKE the world has ever had the misfortune to lay eyes upon.

What did he do?

He tried to lay down in the middle of the damn ring... Throw himself to the ground like the gelatinous puddle that he is and allow one, Danny Imperial to just take it... like the spineless coward I always knew he was. Instead, he sickened his opponent, who left the quivering Jello mold where he lay and left. But even THAT wasn’t all... nope. Just when you think this head shaker couldn’t get more pathetic... we keep right on going, in typical Bastard fashion, even way back then.

Because Bourbon was then given an absolutely luscious dressing down by Vinnie Lane... followed by being stripped...STRIPPED... of the Universal title.

What a fucking disgrace.

You know, you have some real nerve coming after anybody about their title runs, or how they lost things when you have this on your record.

I might have not been in this for the belts, I said that championships were not all that important to me... but at least I fucking showed the X the respect it deserved while carrying it. At least I came out and did my promos. I came out and gave my all to defend it and there is no damn shame in taking a loss in any way, shape or form, compared to belly flopping like a fucking slug and not trying at all. What a craven little pussy you are.

And that wasn’t even the only time was it? No...

High Stakes and the Hart title anyone?

Are we seeing a theme here? I certainly am!

You have a real tendency to shit the bed when things get a little dicey. Perhaps you have a little too much on your plate. Trying to juggle too much all at the same time...

And my oh my... you have already started to blame OCW for you slipping up against Betsy on Warfare. How long is it before you bitch out on something? How long before you screw up yet again? Before you start to sweat the details and fail to show up, in body or spirit? You already made one misstep Bourbs, you can’t afford another... You goof like you did and she and I, will be all over it again and all you can do is hope that your precious little Teeks doesn’t get knocked the fuck out like he did, so he can come and attempt to rescue your ass.”

”You want to know what the biggest difference between the Shooting Star title and these tag belts are? Jenny Myst was an annoying pest who needed to be brought down several pegs. I never truly wanted to be pigeon-holed into a glorified cruiserweight division, so I did what I had to do to claw my way out of it. If that meant letting Atara Themis have some fun at Leap of Faith, so be it. We put on a match of the year candidate that fans are still buzzing about, even now. That match ended exactly the way it was meant to, with the victor gaining spoils she coveted more than anyone.

Becoming a tag champion with one of the fiercest female competitors in the industry? BONUS!

Unlike the Shooting Star title, the tag team belts are something I’ve been quietly attempting to pursue for quite some time. That’s the fun part about being a female at times; unlike the loud, blustering noises of men to announce they are coming, I waited until the perfect moment to let you two buffoons know what was going to happen. I never needed to make my intentions known in order to act them out and get all the pieces I needed dropped into place. I considered asking many a person, from my friends in Apex, to Brother Mine, of course James...

I DID ask Dolly Waters, but she’s occupied.

Funniest thing, my search for the perfect tag partner was still longer than either of your collective singles title histories put together.

But we’ll save that for next time; we’ve already spent more than enough on Them Worthless Shitheads.”

]]> <![CDATA[~Relentless~]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41932 Thu, 23 Sep 2021 11:23:33 -0700 God Of Death]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41932 ~The moment Giovanni DeSantis has been waiting for is only hours away from happening.~

~Relentless is right around the corner, and the long awaited match between the God of Death and Centurion is about to take place. For GD, it’s finally the opportunity to set Armageddon’s Reign upon the world, by sacrificing the one man who survived his ritual so many years ago. It was not going to be a match in the tradition sense, but rather a fight, or even a war, with plenty of blood and violence promised.~

~The God of Death stands in a private room inside his castle, looking at himself in a mirror. Two leather bound servants add the finishing touches to his attire by attaching medals, diamonds, and other jewelry. GD is wearing a long, red velvet robe, like one you would see worn by 16th century royalty. Behind the two servants are the mysterious woman, wearing a white dress and a hood that disguises her face, and the young Asian man, dressed in all black from his neck down.~

“Have the others been assembled?”

“Yes, Lord DeSantis. They are awaiting your arrival.”

~GD looks himself in the mirror once more, then raises one hand and gestures to the servants to leave the room. They walk out, leaving only GD, the Asian man, and the mysterious woman standing in the room. Giovanni turns around and faces the mysterious woman and looks her in the eyes, speaking to her as if she is the only one who exists.~

"Have the travel arrangements been made?"

“Yes, Lord DeSantis. Your benefactor has arranged a private flight, as well as a limo service to the stadium. You won’t have to spend an extra second in Chicago.”

“My Lord, if I may…”

~The young Asian man speaks up, but Giovanni quickly turns his head in his direction and snaps back at him.~

“No, you may not.”

“What our companion was going to ask was whether or not you wanted us to come up with a plan for after the show, were you to need medical assistance. Due to the current global pandemic, many hospitals are booked…”

“I will not be needing such accommodations, thank you. Any injuries I sustain will be minor, and can be taken care in house; however, as a courtesy, you may make arrangements with a local morgue for Centurion. I would hate to see his rotting corpse stinking up the locker room. Now go, leave us.”

~The man bows before turning and walking out of the room, leaving just the mysterious woman and Giovanni DeSantis alone in the room.~

“Your triumphant moment is fast approaching, Lord DeSantis. Soon, this whole journey will be over, and your reign will commence all over the world.”

“You have been a welcome advisor to me. As I lay destruction upon the world, I will be sure to reward you for your loyalty. You will be a made woman in whatever part of the world you wish to inhabit. But when this match has ended, you will need to leave the castle. I need my authority to be unquestioned, and I know that is not something you are capable of doing.”

“I understand perfectly, Lord DeSantis. I will just be happy to see you reign. I do not have to be present to enjoy. Now, let us go. Your subjects are waiting for you.”

~The mysterious woman walks in front of GD and gets to the door first so she can open and hold the door for the God of Death as he exists the room. Outside the room, there are two guards leaning up against the wall, but no other servants or staff members seem to be present.~

~The mysterious woman walks first, with the two guards following to Giovanni’s side as the four of them walk down the dark hallway. The only sound that can be heard is the sound of the shoes clicking against the hardwood floor, with the woman’s shoes making the loudest sound of them all. The four of them do not speak as they walk for several feet before reaching the main lobby of the castle. The normally busy open area is completely empty as the four walk right through and down another hallway before reaching a set of heavy wooden door, where two more guards stand on either side of the doors.~

~As the God of Death approaches the door, the two guards open the doors. GD and the mysterious woman step through the doors, revealing a large ballroom filled with the many staff and servants that are usually lingering about. Everyone stands the moment GD steps forward. Toward the front of the room is a stage, which has many microphones set up, as well as cameras pointing toward the stage.~

~As GD walks by the servants, they bow their heads to prevent themselves from looking the God of Death in the eyes. He slowly walks down an aisle, glancing at his “subjects” as he makes his way closer to the stage. He slowly steps onto the stage, and as he does, the entire crowd kneels before him. He smiles at the respect he is given as he steps in front of the microphones.~

“My subjects – the time of reckoning is now upon us. At this very moment, we are being broadcast around the world, and my words will reach the hearts and minds of millions of people. Hear me people, and accept this truth into your lives.

Thirty years ago, I was given a vision – a vision of a world no longer controlled by weaklings and disgraces, but rather a world controlled by the powerful, the brave, and the strong. I, along with three others, banded together to form the Hell’s Knights Alliance, and our mission was to use the creations of those very people to spread our message to the world. These creations – media and entertainment – that were used as forms of time wasters that were meant to destroy the human mind, were now going to be the very vessels that will cause the world to adopt our ideology.

The idea was simple – four leaders, in four different industries, that will take them down from the inside. It was a flawless plan…until my counterparts got complacent.

One man worked in films. He allowed the corrupt world of Hollywood to turn him away from his path, and he became self-indulgent. So he was eliminated. A second worked in radio, until the advent of world wife web. He became obsolete, so he was eliminated. The third worked in the news, where he performed an excellent job. His job was halfway complete, until a remote explosive in Bosnia ended his mission. Now, all that remains is me.

My mission was to infiltrate sports and professional wrestling. I was to eliminate the people that represented the worst of humanity. I was to sacrifice the unworthy to Armageddon’s Reign, and watch as the people of this planet embrace us as their new leaders. As four became one, I was no longer a member of a group, but rather the leader of the movement, and my three sacrifices in professional wrestling would be the beginning of this great awakening.

The first was Shawn, the Heartbreaker, who represented self-indulgence recklessness. The second was the man named T, the Drug Dealer, who represented lowlifes and criminals that feed on the dirt. And the third was to be Centurion, the weakling, who represented effeminate men, and the death of masculinity that would eventually lead to the extinction of the human race. Shawn and T did not survive, but Centurion…he continued on.

I was to show the world how weak and fragile men like Centurion were, but I was unable to put him down for good. It was my greatest failure, and I left. I returned to my home, where I would stay here, as lord of the castle, for twenty years, accepting the fact that Armageddon’s Reign would never be achieved.

But my subjects, thanks to an unnamed benefactor, we have been given a second chance. Armageddon’s Reign will once more rise and sweep over the Earth, and all those who refuse to accept this as the new reality will be cast out forever! For this to take place, however, I must finish what I started 20 years ago – I must eliminate Centurion.

Mr. Cortinovis, I know you are watching right now. You can not resist. You know what you are in for this weekend, but before I slay you and sacrifice you to Armageddon’s Reign, I want you to know – this was never about. Not the first time.

It did not matter who it was when the first round of sacrifices were made. It could have been anyone, but you were there, and you fit the description of I was looking for. You had the distinct disadvantage of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. When revolutions happen, there is often collateral damage. In 2001, you were collateral damage. But then, you did something that put you on my enemies list forever.

You did not stay down.

If you felt like you were going to die that night, Andy, it is because you were supposed to. Your last breaths were supposed to be taken in September of 2001. You were supposed to be the last one that stood in the way, and your life was supposed to be given to a greater cause. Instead, you decided to be selfish. You decided to keep on living, thus dooming humanity to the wretched filth it is today.

So while your sacrifice is still needed to bring about Armageddon’s Reign, I can not say I won’t enjoy what I am about to do to you. My other moves, the things I have done in the past, those were not for pleasure. Those were for the greater good. But this? Our match? Oh, I’m certainly going to enjoy it.

You know what is coming, don’t you, Andy? You know how Friday evening ends. Which is good. You should have your affairs in order before you step into that ring. I would hate to see your daughter have to make all those arrangements on such a short notice.

Speaking of Nellie, I want you to tell her that there will always be a place for her in Armageddon’s Reign. It is the least I can do for one of my sacrifices. My door is open to anyone who wishes to bow before me. Nellie, Ruby, Allison, even your cat Athena can join my court and live in luxury, but it must be made very clear that there are rules. They must wear what I tell them to wear, do what I tell them to do, and service me as I tell them to service me. I promise you, it is not a terrible existence. Look around the world – can you truly say it is better to be a free person in this wretched place than it is to be a slave to someone who cares for your needs, keeps you safe, and provides you with the necessities of life?

Embrace your destiny, Andy. Accept your role in this. You only have mere hours left on this earth, and you should approach your demise with serenity.

If you still resist, however, I will hurt you like you’ve never been hurt before. I will make 2001 feel like pillow fight compared to the pain I am going to inflict on you. The future has already been written, Andy. You have two options – walk into it peacefully, or he thrown into it, screaming in pain and horror. I will hope for the first, but I will assume the second. That is ok – you want one last fight before going out. So you can have it.

A new dawn is approaching! Armageddon’s Reign is among us! The final sacrifice will be made at Relentless, and one by one the world will bow to greatness! My will be done! ]]> ~The moment Giovanni DeSantis has been waiting for is only hours away from happening.~

~Relentless is right around the corner, and the long awaited match between the God of Death and Centurion is about to take place. For GD, it’s finally the opportunity to set Armageddon’s Reign upon the world, by sacrificing the one man who survived his ritual so many years ago. It was not going to be a match in the tradition sense, but rather a fight, or even a war, with plenty of blood and violence promised.~

~The God of Death stands in a private room inside his castle, looking at himself in a mirror. Two leather bound servants add the finishing touches to his attire by attaching medals, diamonds, and other jewelry. GD is wearing a long, red velvet robe, like one you would see worn by 16th century royalty. Behind the two servants are the mysterious woman, wearing a white dress and a hood that disguises her face, and the young Asian man, dressed in all black from his neck down.~

“Have the others been assembled?”

“Yes, Lord DeSantis. They are awaiting your arrival.”

~GD looks himself in the mirror once more, then raises one hand and gestures to the servants to leave the room. They walk out, leaving only GD, the Asian man, and the mysterious woman standing in the room. Giovanni turns around and faces the mysterious woman and looks her in the eyes, speaking to her as if she is the only one who exists.~

"Have the travel arrangements been made?"

“Yes, Lord DeSantis. Your benefactor has arranged a private flight, as well as a limo service to the stadium. You won’t have to spend an extra second in Chicago.”

“My Lord, if I may…”

~The young Asian man speaks up, but Giovanni quickly turns his head in his direction and snaps back at him.~

“No, you may not.”

“What our companion was going to ask was whether or not you wanted us to come up with a plan for after the show, were you to need medical assistance. Due to the current global pandemic, many hospitals are booked…”

“I will not be needing such accommodations, thank you. Any injuries I sustain will be minor, and can be taken care in house; however, as a courtesy, you may make arrangements with a local morgue for Centurion. I would hate to see his rotting corpse stinking up the locker room. Now go, leave us.”

~The man bows before turning and walking out of the room, leaving just the mysterious woman and Giovanni DeSantis alone in the room.~

“Your triumphant moment is fast approaching, Lord DeSantis. Soon, this whole journey will be over, and your reign will commence all over the world.”

“You have been a welcome advisor to me. As I lay destruction upon the world, I will be sure to reward you for your loyalty. You will be a made woman in whatever part of the world you wish to inhabit. But when this match has ended, you will need to leave the castle. I need my authority to be unquestioned, and I know that is not something you are capable of doing.”

“I understand perfectly, Lord DeSantis. I will just be happy to see you reign. I do not have to be present to enjoy. Now, let us go. Your subjects are waiting for you.”

~The mysterious woman walks in front of GD and gets to the door first so she can open and hold the door for the God of Death as he exists the room. Outside the room, there are two guards leaning up against the wall, but no other servants or staff members seem to be present.~

~The mysterious woman walks first, with the two guards following to Giovanni’s side as the four of them walk down the dark hallway. The only sound that can be heard is the sound of the shoes clicking against the hardwood floor, with the woman’s shoes making the loudest sound of them all. The four of them do not speak as they walk for several feet before reaching the main lobby of the castle. The normally busy open area is completely empty as the four walk right through and down another hallway before reaching a set of heavy wooden door, where two more guards stand on either side of the doors.~

~As the God of Death approaches the door, the two guards open the doors. GD and the mysterious woman step through the doors, revealing a large ballroom filled with the many staff and servants that are usually lingering about. Everyone stands the moment GD steps forward. Toward the front of the room is a stage, which has many microphones set up, as well as cameras pointing toward the stage.~

~As GD walks by the servants, they bow their heads to prevent themselves from looking the God of Death in the eyes. He slowly walks down an aisle, glancing at his “subjects” as he makes his way closer to the stage. He slowly steps onto the stage, and as he does, the entire crowd kneels before him. He smiles at the respect he is given as he steps in front of the microphones.~

“My subjects – the time of reckoning is now upon us. At this very moment, we are being broadcast around the world, and my words will reach the hearts and minds of millions of people. Hear me people, and accept this truth into your lives.

Thirty years ago, I was given a vision – a vision of a world no longer controlled by weaklings and disgraces, but rather a world controlled by the powerful, the brave, and the strong. I, along with three others, banded together to form the Hell’s Knights Alliance, and our mission was to use the creations of those very people to spread our message to the world. These creations – media and entertainment – that were used as forms of time wasters that were meant to destroy the human mind, were now going to be the very vessels that will cause the world to adopt our ideology.

The idea was simple – four leaders, in four different industries, that will take them down from the inside. It was a flawless plan…until my counterparts got complacent.

One man worked in films. He allowed the corrupt world of Hollywood to turn him away from his path, and he became self-indulgent. So he was eliminated. A second worked in radio, until the advent of world wife web. He became obsolete, so he was eliminated. The third worked in the news, where he performed an excellent job. His job was halfway complete, until a remote explosive in Bosnia ended his mission. Now, all that remains is me.

My mission was to infiltrate sports and professional wrestling. I was to eliminate the people that represented the worst of humanity. I was to sacrifice the unworthy to Armageddon’s Reign, and watch as the people of this planet embrace us as their new leaders. As four became one, I was no longer a member of a group, but rather the leader of the movement, and my three sacrifices in professional wrestling would be the beginning of this great awakening.

The first was Shawn, the Heartbreaker, who represented self-indulgence recklessness. The second was the man named T, the Drug Dealer, who represented lowlifes and criminals that feed on the dirt. And the third was to be Centurion, the weakling, who represented effeminate men, and the death of masculinity that would eventually lead to the extinction of the human race. Shawn and T did not survive, but Centurion…he continued on.

I was to show the world how weak and fragile men like Centurion were, but I was unable to put him down for good. It was my greatest failure, and I left. I returned to my home, where I would stay here, as lord of the castle, for twenty years, accepting the fact that Armageddon’s Reign would never be achieved.

But my subjects, thanks to an unnamed benefactor, we have been given a second chance. Armageddon’s Reign will once more rise and sweep over the Earth, and all those who refuse to accept this as the new reality will be cast out forever! For this to take place, however, I must finish what I started 20 years ago – I must eliminate Centurion.

Mr. Cortinovis, I know you are watching right now. You can not resist. You know what you are in for this weekend, but before I slay you and sacrifice you to Armageddon’s Reign, I want you to know – this was never about. Not the first time.

It did not matter who it was when the first round of sacrifices were made. It could have been anyone, but you were there, and you fit the description of I was looking for. You had the distinct disadvantage of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. When revolutions happen, there is often collateral damage. In 2001, you were collateral damage. But then, you did something that put you on my enemies list forever.

You did not stay down.

If you felt like you were going to die that night, Andy, it is because you were supposed to. Your last breaths were supposed to be taken in September of 2001. You were supposed to be the last one that stood in the way, and your life was supposed to be given to a greater cause. Instead, you decided to be selfish. You decided to keep on living, thus dooming humanity to the wretched filth it is today.

So while your sacrifice is still needed to bring about Armageddon’s Reign, I can not say I won’t enjoy what I am about to do to you. My other moves, the things I have done in the past, those were not for pleasure. Those were for the greater good. But this? Our match? Oh, I’m certainly going to enjoy it.

You know what is coming, don’t you, Andy? You know how Friday evening ends. Which is good. You should have your affairs in order before you step into that ring. I would hate to see your daughter have to make all those arrangements on such a short notice.

Speaking of Nellie, I want you to tell her that there will always be a place for her in Armageddon’s Reign. It is the least I can do for one of my sacrifices. My door is open to anyone who wishes to bow before me. Nellie, Ruby, Allison, even your cat Athena can join my court and live in luxury, but it must be made very clear that there are rules. They must wear what I tell them to wear, do what I tell them to do, and service me as I tell them to service me. I promise you, it is not a terrible existence. Look around the world – can you truly say it is better to be a free person in this wretched place than it is to be a slave to someone who cares for your needs, keeps you safe, and provides you with the necessities of life?

Embrace your destiny, Andy. Accept your role in this. You only have mere hours left on this earth, and you should approach your demise with serenity.

If you still resist, however, I will hurt you like you’ve never been hurt before. I will make 2001 feel like pillow fight compared to the pain I am going to inflict on you. The future has already been written, Andy. You have two options – walk into it peacefully, or he thrown into it, screaming in pain and horror. I will hope for the first, but I will assume the second. That is ok – you want one last fight before going out. So you can have it.

A new dawn is approaching! Armageddon’s Reign is among us! The final sacrifice will be made at Relentless, and one by one the world will bow to greatness! My will be done! ]]> <![CDATA[Excellent! Conclusion]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41931 Thu, 23 Sep 2021 11:21:37 -0700 Thunder Knuckles™]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41931 [bwo][/bwo]

The scene opens to a half passed out crying Mr. Granger. Them No Good Bastards, TK with bloody bolt cutters in hand, and Bobby who kicks away the loose ball bag.

Well, that was fucking easy, wasn’t it?

Sure was!

Now, let’s head to goddamn Relentless night one, and see if we’re facing a tag team worth a fuck!

Bobby and TK, who are never without their XWF tag team championship belts, start playing air guitar with them.

[bwo][/bwo]

Once done Them No Good Bastards go back to the phone booth. Bobby now knows what he’s doing: presses the buttons 0,9,2,4,2,0,2,1, then the pound and star buttons simultaneously. The phone booth starts lighting up like a Christmas tree with red lighting surrounding it. Once again the portal opens underneath and the phone booth again drops into time. Your television now shows the outside of Soldier Field with the subtitles on the lower one third of your screen that read “September 24th, 2021”. What was perfect weather conditions now has dark clouds coming in, spiraling around the stadium. The same red lightning fills the skies as Them No Good Bastards’ phone booth falls from the center of the storm. It lands on the ground like it has so many times before. Bobby opens the phone booth’s door.

You know, that’s the first time you haven’t yelled or bitched about the ride.

TK stumbles out of the phone booth as he does, he vomits.

Ergh, I, ergh, fucking hate, ergh, this shit.

Bobby looks up, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath.

The future.

TK is regaining his composure. A program for tonight’s card blows by in the breeze, and Bobby grabs it. He looks at it and furrows his brow.

Uh, I think we were right.

Fuck yeah, we were! We cut that man’s testicles off and you kicked them.

No, the other us, look.

Bobby shows the program to TK. It says that tonight, the main event is Peter Gilmour and the clone of Peter Gilmour, the XWF Tag Team champions, are defending their titles against none other than Lycana and Marf in a Vat of Shit Match.

It says…

I can fucking read.

So the loser is whoever gets thrown into a vat of shit. Huh. Typical, well, you know who.

That’s an easy fucking win for Peter Gilmour and the clone of Peter Gilmour dont you think?

No, I think that man struggled with everything in his life, from pronouncing words to wiping his own ass to even unzipping his fly.

Bobby smirks, remembering the time he glued Peter’s pants shut.

Where the Hell am I on the card?

It looks like you never came to the XWF. Who knew one man’s scrotum meant so much?

Well, mine does to me!

Same, but I mean in the grand scheme of things. Who knows what other crazy shit has happened. For all we know, Quiznos never went out of business.

They never did.

Egad!

No, I mean in the normal timeline you can still find a Quiznos.

No, I can’t. And who wants to?

Bobby and TK exchange a no look fistbump. Take that razzing, Quiznos.

So, who, in the shit, are you fighting?

Well, it says I’m, oh shit.

What?

I’m facing all three Blackwaters in a handicap match, the winner gets the XWF Speedboat! Wow! I never won the XWF Speedboat in this timeline, funky!

Man, this time line sucks... Wait... We never use that thing.

Nobody uses that thing. I think Theo forgot he gave it to me.

Bobby places his index finger on his chin and cocks his head ever so slightly. He's thinking about the speed boat as we fade to a special cameo.

[Image: 3Cug5sV.png]

We cut to see Theo Pryce. He’s in a dapper white sailing jacket and adorable little captain’s hat, beset by two Thai Ladyboys. He’s checking his pockets and looks panicked.

I swear, ladyboys, I have the keys to my awesome speedboat somewhere! It’s moored down by Craig T. Nelson’s yacht!

[Image: 3Cug5sV.png]

Back from the cameo to Them No Good Bastards on September 24th, 2021.

Who’s the Uni fucking Champion?

Cyren. Never heard of ‘em.

TK looks at the program closer.

Well, It fucking says “After defeating Fuzz for the XWF Universal Championship at Leap of Faith 2021, Cyren, is defending against trash talker supreme Azrael Erebus”. What a fucking shit show!

Man, at least this program just happened to get blown into our hands to let us know everything about the consequences of offing that man’s coin purse.

We could at least stay long enough to see the tag match.

TK flashes a wicked grin as the wind picks up, and swirls dust into the air, on this crisp 70 degree night. Bobby looks perplexed by this.

You are like the only person alive who liked watching Peter Gilmour wrestle. That guy could struggle to open a pack of bologna and you’d be entertained.

Bobby sneers, remembering the time he glued Peter’s bologna shut. TK shrugs as the wind flows through his awesome mullet.

He’s a fucking legend. What time is it?

TK looks at his phone to check the time.

This is a dark dystopian alternate future timeline we made as a fuck-up, I don’t think we should be hanging out here too long.

TK has already started walking towards the gate.

I DON’T FUCKING SPEAK NERD!

Bobby trucks to catch up to TK, and both men get to the gate. They’re stopped immediately.

Hello, can I see your tickets?

Tickets? We’re Them No Good Bastards!

That’s, uh, well and good, but I need to see your tickets.

Bobby leans towards TK.

We don’t exist here, remember.

Oh, shit. Well, you do! This is Bobby Bourbon, he’s facing the Blackwater triplets!

The gatekeeper smirks.

Right, first off it’s Robbie Bourbon, second, that guy wears a mask. Have you been drinking sir?

Fuckin... No!

Bobby is nodding in assent silently behind TK.

Okay, look, we have these…

Bobby holds up his half of the XWF Tag Team Championships.

We have to present these to the winners of the main event!

Those are replicas!

Damn it!

Fucking gatekeeping ass mother of a whore!

That’s my job.

Bobby shrugs. He glances at TK, purses his lips, then clocks the gatekeeper with his half of the XWF Tag Team Championships.

Sweet fucking tits!

Well, we’re going to have to undo all of this like we said to ourselves earlier, pretty sure that’ll undo the concussion I just gave that dude.

Bobby and TK walk past the gate and into the grounds of Soldier Field. The certifiably insane crowd that has packed into Soldier Field looks more like a Klan rally rather than a wrestling show. Tig ol’ Bitties is making the ring announcement that the Main event is just moments away, for the live crowd. Bobby and TK make it to the front row without any altercations with security. What's his name was always a cheap prick. The match is already well underway, and we see both Peter's and his clone accosting Lycana by stereo dry humping her on either side. We can tell this is definitely sexual in nature, because Marf is readily masturbating while being cucked. Noticing his distraction, either Peter Gilmour or the clone, we can’t really tell which is which, they’re identical except one has a mustache, and who knows if the legit one grew it or not. But either Peter or his clone approaches Marf. He quickly hip tosses him, while Marf is readily masturbating, into a kiddie pool ringside which is full of what appears to be chocolate pudding.

Oh man, I thought that was going to be real poop!

I’m not disappointed that it wasn’t.

The bell rings, and the Dissentients, in an alternate dystopian future timeline, still couldn’t get the job done.

Well, that was goddamn fun.

No, no it wasn’t. That was terrible. You really weren’t around here when they had dildo crowns and fecal matter everywhere.

That looked like pudding, though.

C’mon, let’s go fix history by un-castrating Betsy’s dad. It seems the nutsack she shot out of was of some consequence after all, even if it’s all been downhill for her since.

Once the match is over Bobby and TK head back to the phone booth laughing at the thought of Peter Gilmour and his clone demolishing the shit encrusted duo of Marf and Lycana with ease.

Told you he was fucking legend!

Well, when you bank on Lycana you’re sure to smell like shit. Or chocolate pudding. Either way.

Once inside the phone booth again. TK shuts the door, as Bobby presses buttons.

Pressin’ buttons, la-la-la.

Don’t press random buttons! You’ll get us stuck in someplace boring again!

The scene fades in waves, like one of those 90s flashback scenes.

[Image: 3Cug5sV.png]

We see a hazy, albeit strangely lush scene on the waterfront someplace. The flora is exotic, to say the least. An expert eye would identify that none of these plants actually exist, or at least still do, but did at some point in the history of earth. The phone booth roars into the small clearing. Bobby and TK step out.

Where the fuck are we? Is there a liquor store? I’m out of hooch.

I dunno, I just pressed some random ass buttons.

Bobby pulls his phone out.

Any signal?

Nah, none. Wherever we are, it’s from the 1980s or earlier.

That really narrows it down.

Yeah, I suppose. C’mon, let's blow this popsicle stand, ain’t nothing of note happening here.

Right. You and your random button presses.

As TK and Bobby re-enter the phone booth, a creature emerges from the water, and the first life form to walk on dry land is actually in third place behind Them No Good Bastards. As it gasps for air, it watches unwittingly as the XWF Tag Team Champions depart. It gives a fist bump, realizing that as cool as it is to be the first legit thing to walk on dry land, seeing Them No Good Bastards made it much cooler.

[Image: 3Cug5sV.png]

The scene fades in waves again bring you back to reality as you know it.

Back to the mother fucking past to stop us from cutting off Betsy’s dad’s balls. How exactly are we going to do that?

Easy, we go back maybe 20 minutes before we should show up and kidnap Betsy's dad. Then we put some poor schmucks in his place, and boom. Our former selves end up cutting off that guy’s nuts instead.

What’s that do to the timeline we’re on right now? Nothing, everything will happen just the same. Why? Science. It’s really just the-

TK reaches out his hand and shakes his head at Bobby.

Bobby.

Yeah, TK?

I. Don't. Speak. Nerd. God. Damn. It. Is it going to fuck shit up?

No.

Good. Alright, let’s do this shit!

After pressing all the buttons needed to travel back in time 20 mins before Them Past Tense No Good Bastards cut off Betsy’s father’s ball holder. The phone booth starts lighting up with the red lightning as it always does. The portal underneath forms and drops the phone booth into the time vortex, as it has done so many times before. The phone booth does all the phone booth things. TK exits the phone booth followed by Bobby. Like clockwork, TK makes a quip about how time travel sucks but is cut off by Bobby.

There he is!

Well, let’s snatch the fucker up.

I have a better idea.

Are you thinking what the fuck I'm thinking?

Does Betsy's life hang in our balance?

Just like at Relentless that answer to that fucking question is clear!

Bobby bum rushes Betsy’s father, snags him up, lifts him vertically. As Bobby lifts Betsy’s father, TK jumps off the hood of a nearby car, landing the most devastating move in Tag Team History!

Rainbow Laser Death Sequence!

That was probably one of the hardest goddamn Rainbow Laser Death Sequence’s, that we’ve ever fucking delivered.

So hard that when Betsy’s born, she knows the pain and anguish of all the other tag teams we’ve ever faced. Minus Dolly Water and Hector Malvado.

Yeah, Juan ate shit to a standard Thunder Strike.

Bobby lifts his XWF Tag Team Championship in the air at the same time TK does the same. They clink them together before seeing a man walk down the street.

Hey, Fucker!

Oh, hello there, neighbor.

Yeah, yeah, you want to make a thousand bucks? We don’t have all day for goddamn pleasantries.

The man is off-put at first.

Doing what?

Well, guys who look just like us are going to come by here. They’ll ask if you’re Mr. Granger and all you have to say is “I am.”.

Pretty fucking simple if you ask me and you get paid a thousand bucks.

The man doesn’t believe Them No Good Bastards until TK pulls out a stack of hundreds and starts counting them out. The man’s eyes become large.

How about two thousand and you have a deal.

Deal!

What the fuck, Bobby! This is goddamn highway fucking robbery.

Bobby pulls TK in close and whispers in his ear.

Dude, he’s getting his nuts chopped off, just pay the man two thousand.

TK looks angry this is costing way too much to trick someone, but he continues to count out the money anyway. TK hands the money to Bobby but has a hard time letting it go.

Come on.

TK is still not giving it up.

TK, come on.

TK releases the money.

Fine.

Here you go, sir. Good luck with your future endeavors.

Bobby looks at his cell phone for the time.

TK, we have to go.

Yeah, yeah.

TK doesn’t take his eyes off the man who’s soon to lose his testicles.

Fucking prick.

The man looks intimidated. Bobby grabs TK by his shirt’s sleeve and leads him to the phone booth. Bobby closes the door and hits the buttons to take them back to the Circle K that they had left. The phone booth’s red lighting happens and the portal drops them through time. The subtitles on your screen read “Present Day”.

-Wooooaaaaahhhhhhh!

You can hear a Thunder Knuckles say, as they land

Goddamn, I hate that part.

Another phone booth arrives. Past TK looks over at past Bobby.

Bobby?

What?

Strange fucking things are happening at the goddamn Circle K.

When TK finishes his sentence, out walks Bobby and TK from the second phone booth. Past Bobby and TK look baffled as the Bobby and TK you’ve been following through time walk up super excited.

Hey, Bastards! You’re going to go back in time with Rufus!

Yeah! You’re going to have the most excellent adventure through XWF history and beyond.

Who are you guys?

We’re you, mother fuckers!

We’re Bastards not Mother Fuckers. The Bastards win gold, the Mother Fuckers never did.

Past TK and Bobby give a no-look fist bump.

Hey, the Motherfuckers weren't that shitty.

Well, I'm a part of a better team now. Anyhow, isn’t this some kind of paradox, us meeting ourselves?

Yeah, but I wouldn't worry too much about it. Apparently, there are so many paradoxical happenings every second they all offset each other.

Oh. Did you ever figure out why we have to take a Betsy Granger History Lesson?

You're facing her at Relentless, it seemed apropo.

Huh.

Both TKs are standing and watching. Past TK looks over at Past Bobby.

Are you done talking with yourself?

The TK you’ve been following butts in.

Nah.

Annoyed past TK looks back over at Time TK.

How would you know?

He was you before being enlightened by traveling through time.

Take that, Dalai Lama.

You mean Dolly Waters?

Both Bobbies shake their head 'no'.

Wait, could we go back in time and just castrate Betsy’s dad before he knocked her mom up?

We tried that, made a big old kerfuffle, yadda, yadda, yadda…

Yadda yadda yadda?

In every reality where Betsy isn't born

never sells the XWF to Lane.

Huh. Weird.

Eh, it's not so weird. Those offsetting paradoxes, like I said, everything always comes full circle.

Cool.

Well, I want a snack, yo, TK, let’s check out what’s in the Circle K.

Alrighty.

TK and Time Bobby walk into the Circle K. Bobby sees beef jerky but second guesses it. TK goes and gets beer like he would any other time. Bobby decides on chips. They pay the clerk and step out of the Circle K. They look around and see Rufus.

Rufus!

Where's our time machine?

Rufus: Yeah, I'm going to take you through time and show you how to use it along the way.

Yeah, the thing about that, we're the Bastards from the future that you gave that time machine so we came here to tell ourselves to chillax!

They said they were the future Bastards going back to the right time.

The three look around for the machine and the past Bastards. Rufus facepalms.

Shit…

Don’t worry about it Rufus, Dude.

Yeah, We’ll be fine. We ended up here, didn’t we?

I mean, we did fuck off for a while but-

We did use that time to roast the dicks off a completely different tag team. So, I say we did pretty good!

You fucking know it!

Are you ready to go with me on an Excellent Adventure?

Bobby looks at TK who wants nothing more than to never time travel again.

No, I think we have a pretty good handle on what we have to do in order to pass the Betsy Granger history lesson.

In other words, Rufus. You can fuck off and remember when you go back to the future. Tell those guys to party on, fuckers, and be Bastardly to each other.

Rufus shakes his head.

Unfortunately for you guys, if you don’t come with me now. You'll never get the phone booth to come back to meet yourselves.

Why didn’t I think of that? TK, you ready?

TK looks disappointed.

Yeah, I fucking guess so. Wait… Did we ever find out why Lycana is relevant, goddamn it?

We sure did, TK, every step of the way.

We fucking did?

We sure did. You were right all along. Jimmy was just making sure you were really ready and not guessing. She’s only relevant because we made her that way. After Relentless that ends.

Goddamn right, Bobby, Goddamn right.

The movie fades to the credits without showing if Them No Good Bastards pass the Betsy Granger History Lesson. TK and Bobby get into the phone booth one more time. This narrator guesses you’ll find out if they passed in the sequel.

[bwo][/bwo]

[Image: 3Cug5sV.png]

Your screen fires up another commercial after the credits. You see an Alias Puppet watching some TV when the phone rings. The Alias puppet looks at the caller id that reads “Puppet Corey”. The Alias puppet answers, over flamboyantly.

Mmmm, what's up?

Your screen shows a scantily dressed Corey puppet holding the phone to its ear in one hand and the other is rubbing its puppet nipple. Puppet Corey greets the puppet Alias with the same tone.

Mmmm, what's up?

Your screen now shows the Alias puppet again, now shirtless, rubbing its nipple too, still with the exuberant tone.

Mmmm, what's up?

The screen changes to puppet Corey now under a white sheet, the sheet is moving vigorously and a very flamboyant response escapes its puppet lips.

Mmmm that’s amazing.

The sound of flamboyant “Mmmm genius” and “Mmmm amazing” from each puppet can be heard before the traditional BOB voiceover begins. The video feed is now bouncing back and forth between the Alias and Corey puppets’ white sheets rapidly moving.

When your taste buds can’t handle the real thing. Try DOC Light.

[Image: wcCCrGw.png]

[bwo][/bwo]

Them No Good Bastards are still in the jazz club, still being filmed in black and white, and still your XWF Tag Team Champions. TK steps forward with his arms stretched, head half tilted back, cocky smile, wearing his noir-related zoot suit.

All hail, for your XWF Tag Team Champions, are home! You can sing praises of this Bastardly Age now. The history books will later, you can count on that shit! No Team has EVER skyrocketed a division higher! When we step into the ring carrying all of our bling and conquer everything that stands in our way. Crycana and Betsy Granger, whatever they decide to call themselves. It doesn’t matter they’re a footnote in this Age of Bastardly ascension.

TK raises his head and his hands up. Giving praise to Jesus Christ, himself.

So long live your tag team rulers and bow down.

TK lets his arms down and looks back into the camera.

We’re coming to Relentless to play fucking hard. We take no goddamn days off! Do you think this team of basic bitches is the only thing on our plate? Fuck and no. These are the second set of ass wipes we’re facing. So, Betsy, this isn’t some trial or rehearsal. You’re about to find out Them No Good Bastards are fucking eternal. Your job is to come out here and lie to the XWF fans around the world but you haven’t had the courage to make that first step into greatness. Nope, you’d rather hold off. While we lead the dance. We ain't fucking dancing on September 24th in that electrified steel cage. Talk about how you’re the team to upending our historic tag team title run.

TK gives an off-the-cuff jerking-off hang gesture without any of the pizazz because this team hasn’t deserved better.

We’ve got goddamn battle scars on our resume. We watched them all fall while we elevate higher and fucking higher. Something Betsy’s ass hasn’t realized is a loss to Crycana is a loss Them No Good Bastards will ever take. Unlike you, Bets. Weren’t you sworn enemies? Such a crock-a-shit. Dolly was right about Betsy, dawg.

TK smacks Bobby’s arm, Bobby smirks.

I saw those promo’s too. Ouch.

Now that we’re on the Tag Team throne, that shit is forever. It’s time to move along ladies and go fail at another XWF title opportunity. Sucks about that Shooting Star division, doesn’t it?

TK’s cocky smile went from arrogant to straight dickhead.

‘Ol Thunder Knuckles guess that’s another thing you two failed at, huh? You couldn’t keep your own division alive. Now you need to suck on the life force of ours to gain any notoriety. We aren’t playing hot potato with these-

Them No Good Bastards clink their XWF tag titles together.

-like you fucks did to kill that division. No, they’re staying with us post-Relentless. They’d have to put a team who wants to fight, in order for us to lose them. Not some scared-ass little girls who wait to be heard. Gimme those we are women roars now ladies. After we already said our peace. Real strong.

TK rolls his eyes.

Want to know something that really bothers me, Bobby?

Algebra.

Yicch, you're right but that's not where I was headed.

Geometry.

Yes, I have math anxiety, I'm not talking about goddamn math though.

Ooh, when you eat popcorn, and then like a little piece of popped kernel gets caught in your gums, and then suddenly you realize you're sitting on the wrong bus but you're halfway to Michigan now instead of Tennessee and you have double the struggle?

TK looks befuddled.

Uh, yeah, I guess that would bother me.

Happens to the best of us.

Nah. Betsy is off over in OCW, just like we are, and she hasn’t mentioned that she has a tag partner, not one goddamn time. What kinda fucking propped-up bullshit team is this? This is just another case of XWF management thinking they can just throw two random fuck-wits together and throw’em at the Bastards. Keep fucking throwin' them, guys. We’ll keep holding on to these goddamn beautiful things and continue making all those teams you hurl our way look fucking bad. Now they’re going to prance around the fucking halls like some kinda team. Get the fuck outta here with that noise.

That doesn't bother me one bit. Betsy isn't what we call the model team player. She threw her own husband and Legacy mates under the bus in her last promo, you think she's going to lift Lycana anywhere? Shit, the woman's greatest strength is her ability to flee and escape in a dopey blue box, not stand and deliver anything of any substance. It's interesting you bring that up, I guess it's another topic for Lycana and her to discuss in their next promo since a part of carrying an entire division across multiple companies is actually providing not only entertainment to the masses but conversation pieces to our opponents. Go figure, without us they have nothing to say!

Bobby and TK take a few steps away from each other, steal a dance partner each, and cut a rug for a brief moment to the swingin' sounds of the juke joint. They then abandon the dance partners, stepping back towards each other with a seamless and quite ravishing flourish of a no-look fistbump.

So, since we already did a splendid job of carving Betsy like a Thanksgiving turkey, exposing there's nothing inside the meat of her character but bread crumbs.

I fucking love stuffing.

We all do but nobody makes a reasonable meal of it. Anyhow, let's perform some weird science. Throw back the switch, the storm is in place, time to resurrect Lycana so we can slay her yet again. So, Lycana, back again, here to prove you just can't get it done with someone who won't get it done, only you're hoping Betsy strokes her five-inch long clit-dick to you getting fucked up on a massive broadcast instead of Marf. Fuck the notion that Betsy hasn't brought you up in OCW. We have, and you're welcome for the promotion, but where's the support for Marf anyhow? Your bosom buddy and pet cuck is in position to be in a position to win the Hart Championship and you haven't done a damn thing to help him prepare for one of the biggest matches of his career whatsoever. Shit, you know what? That means you've changed the narrative entirely. Wolves are pack animals, and you dumped him off at the shelter like you couldn't afford to buy his kibbles and heartworm medicine. I want you to meet someone.

Bobby whistles. Into the jazz bar charges a Rottweiler.

[Image: H4WMrRS.png]

Most of the club's cool vibe is shattered on her arrival as people literally have to jump out of the way of the animal.

Oh, what the fuck man, we're supposed to be doing noir-related shit.

Bobby squats next to the dog, who sits on his left foot. She makes a slight, high pitched sound as she yawns, the cocks her head and gives Bobby a single slurp on his nose.

That’s gross.

Poppycock.

Bobby pets his dog. She immediately raises her mug skyward and looks sublimely pleased at the affection.

So, this is Leila. She's a good girl. I know that no matter what, if I'm in a bad way, she’s just around the corner and ready to keep me some company. Besides TK, she is easily the most faithful and loyal companion that anyone could ever hope for. She helps me finish pizza, lets me know when the mail arrives, and thinks other dogs are stuck in the TV when one pops on the screen. She also barks at horses.

How often does she see horses?

Enough for me to know she barks at them. You see, Leila is the finest example of a dog I could ever showcase. I have a bond with her and she with me. On that note, we gotta whoop the shit outta Lycana and Betsy come Relentless. Y'all give the word 'bitch' a bad name, and this little pooch deserves better representation.

The shot fades to black with the band winding down and Bobby petting his dog.]]> <![CDATA[Extreme Ways]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41924 Tue, 21 Sep 2021 16:19:26 -0700 Centurion]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41924

------Monday, September 17th, 2001------

(This was not what Andy Cortinovis had in mind when he decided to become a professional wrestler.

Three months ago, Andy made his debut in the CCWF under the name “Centurion”, a rank held by Roman generals. His career has been pretty flat thus far – a short Triple Tag Title run is all he has been able to accomplish, but his alliance with The Wildcards has risen his stock to the point where he is now contending for singles titles. His first major pay per view match was tonight, when he faced fellow Wildcards member Roller for the IC Title. It was a legendary bout that saw Roller retain the title, but it was not what happened during the match that will be remembered forever.

It is what happened after.

Someone cut the power to the arena, causing the place to go pitch black. By the time utility crews were able to restore power, fans and wrestlers alike were horrified by what they saw in the ring – Centurion and Roller, nailed to a cross, and cut up in some sort of ritualistic fashion. The entire show came to a halt as EMTs had to rush to get the two wrestlers out of the ring and out of the arena in order to save their lives.

Luckily, their lives were spared. Their careers, however? That remains to be seen. The IC Champion Roller had already gotten a bit long on the tooth, and Centurion was brand new to the business, and this was his introduction to the ultraviolent world of professional wrestling that some of the sicker owners and promoters reveled in.

We open up inside the Broadlawns Medical Center in Des Moines, Iowa. There, sitting in a waiting room are the members of the Original Wildcards – Maverick, Heru’ur, Enforcer, and Steve Jason. Heru’ur, who never spoke and just sort of existed as a mysterious Egyptian man that intimidated people, just stares directly into a wall, not moving. Enforcer has his feet up and is reading a crappy old magazine. Maverick and Steve Jason are both looking uneasy as they stare at the door that leads out of the waiting room and back into surgery.

Two hours after arrival, Enforcer decided he was tired and had enough of waiting around. He and Heru’ur would head back to the hotel, causing the first rift that would eventually lead to their removal from the Wildcards. Maverick and Steve Jason, however, remained as their fallen comrades were still being treated for the nasty injuries they suffered.

Roller was the first one out of surgery. His wounds didn’t seem as deep or as life threatening as Centurion’s, so all the doctors had to do for him is get him stitched up and put on some pain meds. After a brief visit with Steve and Maverick, Roller has passed out, and the two remaining Wildcard members return to the waiting room as Centurion’s fate still is unknown.

Finally, several hours later, a doctor opens the doors, and calls out to Maverick and Steve.)

Doctor: Andy is out of surgery and he’s awake, though he’s still rather out of it at the moment. You can go see him, but try not to cause him any extra stress.

(Maverick and Steve barely listen to the doctor as they quickly bolt from their chairs and down the hallway, before entering a hospital room.

The sight they see is a pretty rough one – Centurion is all bandaged up, looking as if he was in a severe car crash, with tubes connected to him and monitors going off. The most noticeable set of bandages are on Centurion’s hands and wrists, which almost look like thick mittens with how bandaged they are. Centurion turns his head towards the two men and raises his hand, though he’s only able to get it inches off the bed, and even then it is a struggle. Centurion speaks, but his voice is low and raspy, and he speaks slowly.)

Centurion: …...whaddup?

Maverick: You look like shit.

Centurion: Nah, I’m perfectly fine. Who are we facing next week?

SJ: Hopefully no one. Hopefully we sue the pants off of C(beep)ver and get this entire place shut down...and give you a nice amount of cash to lay on while you recover.

Centurion: (cough) As nice as that would be, I doubt that will happen. I saw Omega set a man on fire and nothing happened. By the way, you know what sucks? Getting stabbed.

Maverick: That’s what Roller told us.

Centurion: You talked to him already? He must have gotten less of it than I have.

Maverick: He was on the upper side of the cross, so the blood didn’t rush to his brain like it did for you. That’s why he was able to regain conscienceness a lot more quickly than you did. Do you have any idea who did this? The lights went out, and whoever it was left through the Maintenace tunnels. We never saw any traces of these dudes backstage.

Centurion: Sorry, I didn’t get the chance to check IDs.

Maverick: You didn’t recognize a voice or a face or...

(Steve places his hand on Maverick’s shoulder, getting him to stop his line of questioning.)

SJ: Why don’t you run to the café and get us a couple of coffees. I’ll stay here with Cent.

(Maverick looks down at Centurion, then back over to SJ, before nodding his head and turning to walk out the door. SJ walks closer to Centurion and leans down to speak to him.)

SJ: We’re going to find who did this, and we’re going to beat the unholy hell out of them. And you’re going to get patched up and be good as new. Don’t worry, Andy...you’re going to be alright.

(Centurion’s face scrunches as he turns his head away from SJ. A tear begins to run down his face as he looks off into the distance.)

Centurion: No, Steve...I don’t think I’m going to be.

------Thursday, July 14th, 2007------

(At this point in his career, Centurion had practically done it all. He was inducted into two Hall of Fames. He won the XWF World Title, which was the highest title in the federation at that time. He was known as one of the best, and most consistent performers in the industry. But there was one label that was just attached to him…

…flake.

Upon losing the World Title to Brad Pierce at the end of May, Centurion took some time off. What he said to the public, and what people believed, was that Centurion simply needed some time to rest his body after going through a long and grueling road schedule. The truth was, Centurion’s mind was shattered. He was spiraling further and further into a deep depression. It didn’t matter how many victories he racked up in that time, he was still unable to get his mental health in check. So when a match between Centurion and Jose Chavez was booked for that year’s edition of Leap Of Faith, and Centurion did not show up, folks just assumed he ran from the challenge.

The truth is, Centurion couldn’t attend the match…because he was institutionalized.

We open up inside Meadows Psychiatric Hospital in Centre Hall, Pennsylvania. There, sitting on a couch in a private room is Centurion, who is wearing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, a very unusual sight for the mostly dapper dressing Centurion. He has both of his arms on the back of the couch, and he is tapping his foot on the floor, either in nervousness or impatience. Sitting facing him is a therapist, who has a clipboard in her hand.)

Therapist: You missed group this morning.

Centurion: I didn’t miss it. I skipped it.

Therapist: You know, you have to complete your group therapy sessions if you want to be released from here.

Centurion: What exactly are those group sessions supposed to help me with, huh? I’m seated between a young girl who watched her father be murdered in cold blood, and a woman who was violently raped, and I’m supposed to sit there and just be like “yeah, my brain doesn’t work so great”? Do you know how much of a piece of shit I feel like when I have to listen to people with legitimate trauma talk about why they’re here, when all I can say is that I have some sort of medical condition that doesn’t allow me to produce serotonin?

Therapist: You’re still going with that, are you?

(Centurion stops tapping his foot as he cocks his head to the side.)

Centurion: What do you mean, “still going with that”?

Therapist: Part of the reason you are unable to heal properly is because you are incapable of cleaning the wound of your trauma. To make an analogy, it would be like if you kept getting stomach aches over and over again. And you’re trying your hardest to fix your stomach aches. And sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t, but after getting it looked at more closely, you find an infected wound you completely ignored. Your mental illness isn’t just because your brain “isn’t producing enough serotonin.” It’s because you have unhealed trauma.

Centurion: From what? This isn’t going to be one of those “you’re sick because your daddy didn’t love you” conversations, is it? Because I don’t think I can take any more of that.

Therapist: No, though your relationship, or lack thereof, with your biological parents can play a role in your mental health moving forward. No, I’m taking something more tangible. Something in your career perhaps?

Centurion: Ha!

(Centurion puts his arms down from the back of the couch and just shakes his head.)

Centurion: I’ve have more injuries than I can count. I mean, look at me…

(Centurion holds his arms out and shows off some of the scars he’s accumulated over the years.)

Centurion: I look like a pin cushion. Some of these scars are on top of other scars.

Therapist: True, but I’m more interested in those scars on your wrist.

(Centurion arches his eyebrows and glances over at his wrists. There, he sees the scars the therapist is referring to – two very distinct circles left from the assault made on him six years previous. Centurion rubs his wrists before looking back over at the therapist.)

Centurion: Yeah…got them early in my career. There was a guy, called GD, who used me as some sort of message. Put me on a cross. It’s one of those things that happens.

Therapist: Is it? How many others in your line of work do you know have gotten crucified in their careers?

Centurion: Well…very few.

Therapist: It must have been scary for you. You were young. Early in your career. Something like that? Did you go to the hospital?

Centurion: Of course. It was the first hospital trip of my career. I had serious doubts about continuing my career…

Therapist: But you did anyway.

Centurion: What else was I going to do? The money was good, and the XWF started calling. I had an opportunity to leave my old federation behind and become a superstar. Why wouldn’t I do that?

Therapist: You didn’t take a whole lot of time off, did you?

Centurion: I mean…I took about a month. I wasn’t going to make any money just sitting at home, so I had to get back out there…why are we talking about this anyway? This was so long ago.

Therapist: Did you ever see GD again?

(Centurion stops and thinks for a moment. He looks into the ceiling, pondering the question, then looks back down at the therapist.)

Centurion: No. Once the CCWF went under, he just sort of…vanished. The business was changing. All that death and murder stuff wasn’t going to fly like it did there, so I’m sure he went on to do something else, or he’s in jail. Hell, he could be dead for all I know…or care, for that matter.

Therapist: It must be frustrating to have never gotten closure. To not know what happened to your abuser.

Centurion: Hey now…

(Centurion stands up and walks away from the couch. He walks over to stand in front of a window, and he leans up against the window while still looking at the therapist. His speaking as gotten faster and his breathing has gotten heavier, but there doesn’t appear to be any anger in his voice.)

Centurion: Don’t use that word. “Abuser”. That term applies to so many other people. I am not a victim, alright? I’m a professional wrestler that was caught off guard once. Do you know how many others get put into that situation and don’t make it back to the business? I’m one of the lucky ones.

Therapist: There’s no doubt about it.

Centurion: When we get into this business, we know what we’re getting into. There’s always a chance something horrible may happen to us, but that’s what we sign up for.

Therapist: Which is what your friend Jayde told you, right?

Centurion: …what?

(Centurion glares at the therapist, unsure of what she meant by those comments. Then, a wave of memories came flooding back to him. It was the Titan Wrestling Corporation in 2003. Centurion was there for a brief run as the XWF was rebuilding. A faction consisting of himself, Maverick, the aforementioned Jayde, and other former XWF wrestlers were locked in a war with a faction known as Demo Pac, lead by former Universal Champions Cooper and Bigg Rigg, as well as Little Demo, other wrestlers that have been lost to time, and a mysterious “Overweight Man”, who acted as a manager and a mouthpiece for the unit.

Backstage at one of the shows, Jayde was assaulted by the group, and left to the wills of the Overweight Man, performed some rather disgusting acts on her. Jayde was known as being a bit “precocious”, so her comments on the assault fell on deaf ears. Besides, in Jayde’s words, “there are no rules in professional wrestling. This was always a possibility. It’s what we signed up for.”

Centurion hadn’t thought about that night in years. A wave of survivors guilt washes over Centurion as he remembers the look in Jayde’s eyes that evening.)

Centurion: …how do you know about that?

Therapist: We've had some people watch a lot o wrestling in order to get a better understanding of you and what you've been through. This was one of those events that was an immediate red flag for us. You never got your revenge on her abuser either, did you?

Centurion: No, I never saw him again. I have no idea what happened to that man.

Therapist: Just like GD.

Centurion: So, what are you saying?

Therapist: I'm saying your previous trauma has made you empathic towards others, especially when it comes to those who are victimized and aren't able to seek their revenge. You may be in professional wrestling for the money, but you act more like a mercenary. You want paid, because you want to live a glamorous lifestyle, thinking it will all be taken from you soon, and you want to bring justice to people who you think have wronged others and never got their comupance. And I think you're incapable of just letting go. I think any lose ends cause your mind to break. Which is something we can work on...

(Before the therapist is able to continue, a knock on the door is heard. Before the therapist can answer, the door cracks open, and a staff member peaks her head in.)

Staff: Doctor, there is a Walter Crowe here, saying he has some legal papers demanding Mr. Cortinovis’ release.

(The therapist’s eyes go wide as she glances over at Centurion, who is in a daze as he stares down at the floor.)

Therapist: Tell him Mr. Cortinovis is nowhere near ready to be discharged. In fact, I think we are on the verge of a breakthrough.

Centurion: Sorry to tell you, doc…but I don’t think you’re going to cure me.

(The staff member closes the door as Centurion slowly walks towards the door. The therapist stands up and puts her hand out in front of her.)

Therapist: Wait! If you leave now, you’re leaving this wound unhealed. This thing is going to continue to follow you throughout your career. I can help you in here. I can’t help you if you go back out on the road.

(Centurion reaches the door and looks back at the therapist. He takes a deep breath in, and his glazed sad look is replaced by that trademark Centurion smile. She quickly shakes his head as he opens the door and points at the therapist.)

Centurion: Next time I’m in town, I’ll leave you a ticket, Doc!

------I Broke Everything New Again, Everything That I Own------

So...here we are.

I'm sure you're laughing hysterically right now, Giovanni. I'm sure you think you've always accomplished everything you set out to do. After all, you've gotten in my head. You forced me to drop everything in order to respond to your weekly messages. I was in the midst of a hot streak before you popped back up - a war with BoB, a UGWC championship around my waist - things were going smoothly for you until you popped back in my life. I would say you've been controlling my life for the past three months…

...but the truth is, you've been controlling my life for the past 20 years.

Every decision I have made in my wrestling career has been in response to that fateful night when you nailed me to a cross. Every enemy I've stared down has been a reflection of you. Every ounce of expensive liquor I've spilt is because I almost died in the ring one night, and I wanted to live my life to the fullest. Everytime I went home with some random woman, or tossed thousands of dollars on Red, or agreed to wrestle in an exploding cage of fire match…

...every time I pop those pills, or sit in that therapist office. Every time I held that gun in my mouth, and almost pulled the trigger…

...it's because of you.

Is that what you've wanted to hear your entire life, GD? That I am a completely fucking mess because of you? Well CONGRATULATIONS! I hope the payoff was as good as the suspense. I know we've been building to this moment for a very long time, and I'm sure this revelation feels less like an orgy and more like a sad orgasm.

Here's the thing about it, though, Giovanni. Those nights I had that gun in my mouth? I ended up not pulling the trigger. Why?

Spite.

I know there are too many people who would be overjoyed at my death, and I want them to be as miserable as possible. I also know that my untimely demise would have giving you the ultimate victory. It didn't matter if it was 10, 15, 20 years after the fact - if I drove myself to suicide because of your actions, you ultimately would have succeeded in your goals.

And I never wanted to give you that satisfaction. In fact, while all the wins and all the titles and all the glory was great, there was ultimately one goal I wanted to achieve more than anything. The one goal I've had in the back of my mind for 20 years, and one goal that I finally get to accomplish.

I wanted to live long enough to piss on your grave. I want to be there when they put your sorry ass in the ground, and I want to be the one who ultimately pours the dirt on your cold, lifeless body. And I want to walk away knowing it's the last time anyone will ever see you, think of you, visit you ever again. No gravestone, no funeral, no fun stories around a campfire about how funny grandpa was.

Nope, just you...gone from all eternity. As if you never existed. Poof.

In the end, that's the worst fate that could befall you, isn't it GD? All this talk of a "prophecy", building this empire and "becoming a god", and all you get for it is a Wikipedia page and your name on the program. You wish so dearly to be a monarch, when you can't even pull off being a fascist convincingly enough.

You should never have come back. You should have stayed in the shadows for the rest of eternity. That would have kept the lore and the mystique alive. You would have forever haunted my dreams, your servants would never have left you, and those who saw you, however briefly, would always be wondering what was about to happen. What would you have accomplished if the CCWF did not close? What kind of pain and anguish would you have caused if you would have been able to continue unchecked? That question would never have been answered.

Instead, you decided to risk it all, and instead of being a shadowy figure that causes pain and destruction, you're most recent legacy is that of a mid level Anarchy wrestler who couldn't get the job done against the most basic of opponents. You're not a god - you're a man. A man who bleeds. A man who feels pain. A man who can be destroyed. Most importantly, you're a man I can bury. You're a man I can move on from.

You almost took my life from me, Giovanni. Now I get to return the favor. I may not be able to kill you at Relentless, try as hard as I may, but I will take everything from you. Once your servants see your bloody, mangled body, they will leave you, en mass, upon the realization that you are nothing more than a fraud. Your career will be over, I can assure you of that. Whatever prophecy you hoped to being about - whatever Armageddon's Reign was supposed to be, is going to be snuffed out permanently. You'll never show your face in the professional wrestling world ever again. And your "benefactor" will see you as a waste of time and money, and will cut you off completely.

Which brings me to the real reason you're here - money. Someone paid you to come back. Someone sent you one hell of a check so you could return from the shadows and haunt me. And this person has to be incredibly smart, since they knew not only of your existence, but how to find you. Whoever funded you did so in order to take me out, and I'm DYING to know who that is.

I hope the money was worth losing everything. I hope you were able to fully enjoy the past several months, when you were jumping into pools of champagne or whatever the fuck you consume. Have you ever heard of the phrase "more money, more problems?" You are about to become the very embodiment of it. Cashing that check, however big it was, will be the single biggest mistake of your life. And it will be the biggest mistake of whoever sent it to you in the first place.

You said something very interesting in our contract signing. You said that I "asked for this". I didn't ask for you to be a constant presence in my life, but if you mean I asked for this to be a Raw Brutality match, then hell yeah I did. It's because I don't want to wrestle you, Giovanni. I want to fight you. I want to beat the unholy shit out of you. I want to inflict pain upon you that you've only ever inflicted on others. I don't want referees or front office stooges or medical professionals stopping this fight. I want you to bleed like I did. I want you to cry like I did. And I want you to have my face buried in your memory for as long as you live. You got to taste my blood, Giovanni. Now I get to taste yours.

One final thing, GD. I need to thank you. I know that sounds like an absolutely shocking thing to say, but allow me to explain. You've given me an opportunity at a second chance. You have granted me the ability to shed 20 years of pain and mental anguish. You have given this old man the chance to completely restart my career, which is not something I ever expected. What do I look like when we come out the other side?

Well, that's yet to be determined. In order to slay you, I'm going to have to dig down into the deepest depths of my soul, and pull out a darkness I've kept hidden my entire life. When I'm done with you...I don't know if I'll ever be able to bury that again. You may have turned me into a monster - a copycat of the very thing I have been attempting to kill my entire career. I may wake up Saturday morning and burn everything - my friends, my family, my entire life - to the ground in the pursuit of a newfound greatness. That could happen.

Or, I could wake up Saturday morning feeling like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I could be calmer and more focused than I've ever been in my life. I may become the Guru of Happiness, talking about mindfulness and some shit. I don't know. I won't know until this is over. But I do know what you're going to be…

You're going to be a broken, shriveled husk. A shell of a human being that is discarded. When you wake up on Saturday morning, you're going to find yourself lower than the pigs and skunks of the earth.

That is...if you wake up at all.

If you don't think I'm willing to go deep enough, and get sadistic enough to kill another human being, I implore you to watch this year's Snow Job. Actually, you could skip that. Just go to a cemetery in Green Bay, Wisconsin and look for a small grave with the words "Holy Roman War Horse" etched in it. That's all that remains of the last person who didn't think I had it in me to take a life. You'll also notice a distant lack of flowers, or lights, or anything that looks like anyone cares about him. That's a snapshot into your future.

This isn't just for me, GD. This is for Miyoko. It's for Boris. It's for every one of those innocent people you've kidnapped and brainwashed. It's for Jerry, the cameraman you stabbed in the CCWF. It's for Roller, whose career never recovered. It's for Shawn and T, the two original sacrifices. It's for any other human being you have victimized whose names and faces are lost to time. And, yes, this is also for me. Enjoy your last days of being a god, Giovanni, because this Friday night, you will meet your…

FINAL FANTASY!!!]]>

------Monday, September 17th, 2001------

(This was not what Andy Cortinovis had in mind when he decided to become a professional wrestler.

Three months ago, Andy made his debut in the CCWF under the name “Centurion”, a rank held by Roman generals. His career has been pretty flat thus far – a short Triple Tag Title run is all he has been able to accomplish, but his alliance with The Wildcards has risen his stock to the point where he is now contending for singles titles. His first major pay per view match was tonight, when he faced fellow Wildcards member Roller for the IC Title. It was a legendary bout that saw Roller retain the title, but it was not what happened during the match that will be remembered forever.

It is what happened after.

Someone cut the power to the arena, causing the place to go pitch black. By the time utility crews were able to restore power, fans and wrestlers alike were horrified by what they saw in the ring – Centurion and Roller, nailed to a cross, and cut up in some sort of ritualistic fashion. The entire show came to a halt as EMTs had to rush to get the two wrestlers out of the ring and out of the arena in order to save their lives.

Luckily, their lives were spared. Their careers, however? That remains to be seen. The IC Champion Roller had already gotten a bit long on the tooth, and Centurion was brand new to the business, and this was his introduction to the ultraviolent world of professional wrestling that some of the sicker owners and promoters reveled in.

We open up inside the Broadlawns Medical Center in Des Moines, Iowa. There, sitting in a waiting room are the members of the Original Wildcards – Maverick, Heru’ur, Enforcer, and Steve Jason. Heru’ur, who never spoke and just sort of existed as a mysterious Egyptian man that intimidated people, just stares directly into a wall, not moving. Enforcer has his feet up and is reading a crappy old magazine. Maverick and Steve Jason are both looking uneasy as they stare at the door that leads out of the waiting room and back into surgery.

Two hours after arrival, Enforcer decided he was tired and had enough of waiting around. He and Heru’ur would head back to the hotel, causing the first rift that would eventually lead to their removal from the Wildcards. Maverick and Steve Jason, however, remained as their fallen comrades were still being treated for the nasty injuries they suffered.

Roller was the first one out of surgery. His wounds didn’t seem as deep or as life threatening as Centurion’s, so all the doctors had to do for him is get him stitched up and put on some pain meds. After a brief visit with Steve and Maverick, Roller has passed out, and the two remaining Wildcard members return to the waiting room as Centurion’s fate still is unknown.

Finally, several hours later, a doctor opens the doors, and calls out to Maverick and Steve.)

Doctor: Andy is out of surgery and he’s awake, though he’s still rather out of it at the moment. You can go see him, but try not to cause him any extra stress.

(Maverick and Steve barely listen to the doctor as they quickly bolt from their chairs and down the hallway, before entering a hospital room.

The sight they see is a pretty rough one – Centurion is all bandaged up, looking as if he was in a severe car crash, with tubes connected to him and monitors going off. The most noticeable set of bandages are on Centurion’s hands and wrists, which almost look like thick mittens with how bandaged they are. Centurion turns his head towards the two men and raises his hand, though he’s only able to get it inches off the bed, and even then it is a struggle. Centurion speaks, but his voice is low and raspy, and he speaks slowly.)

Centurion: …...whaddup?

Maverick: You look like shit.

Centurion: Nah, I’m perfectly fine. Who are we facing next week?

SJ: Hopefully no one. Hopefully we sue the pants off of C(beep)ver and get this entire place shut down...and give you a nice amount of cash to lay on while you recover.

Centurion: (cough) As nice as that would be, I doubt that will happen. I saw Omega set a man on fire and nothing happened. By the way, you know what sucks? Getting stabbed.

Maverick: That’s what Roller told us.

Centurion: You talked to him already? He must have gotten less of it than I have.

Maverick: He was on the upper side of the cross, so the blood didn’t rush to his brain like it did for you. That’s why he was able to regain conscienceness a lot more quickly than you did. Do you have any idea who did this? The lights went out, and whoever it was left through the Maintenace tunnels. We never saw any traces of these dudes backstage.

Centurion: Sorry, I didn’t get the chance to check IDs.

Maverick: You didn’t recognize a voice or a face or...

(Steve places his hand on Maverick’s shoulder, getting him to stop his line of questioning.)

SJ: Why don’t you run to the café and get us a couple of coffees. I’ll stay here with Cent.

(Maverick looks down at Centurion, then back over to SJ, before nodding his head and turning to walk out the door. SJ walks closer to Centurion and leans down to speak to him.)

SJ: We’re going to find who did this, and we’re going to beat the unholy hell out of them. And you’re going to get patched up and be good as new. Don’t worry, Andy...you’re going to be alright.

(Centurion’s face scrunches as he turns his head away from SJ. A tear begins to run down his face as he looks off into the distance.)

Centurion: No, Steve...I don’t think I’m going to be.

------Thursday, July 14th, 2007------

(At this point in his career, Centurion had practically done it all. He was inducted into two Hall of Fames. He won the XWF World Title, which was the highest title in the federation at that time. He was known as one of the best, and most consistent performers in the industry. But there was one label that was just attached to him…

…flake.

Upon losing the World Title to Brad Pierce at the end of May, Centurion took some time off. What he said to the public, and what people believed, was that Centurion simply needed some time to rest his body after going through a long and grueling road schedule. The truth was, Centurion’s mind was shattered. He was spiraling further and further into a deep depression. It didn’t matter how many victories he racked up in that time, he was still unable to get his mental health in check. So when a match between Centurion and Jose Chavez was booked for that year’s edition of Leap Of Faith, and Centurion did not show up, folks just assumed he ran from the challenge.

The truth is, Centurion couldn’t attend the match…because he was institutionalized.

We open up inside Meadows Psychiatric Hospital in Centre Hall, Pennsylvania. There, sitting on a couch in a private room is Centurion, who is wearing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, a very unusual sight for the mostly dapper dressing Centurion. He has both of his arms on the back of the couch, and he is tapping his foot on the floor, either in nervousness or impatience. Sitting facing him is a therapist, who has a clipboard in her hand.)

Therapist: You missed group this morning.

Centurion: I didn’t miss it. I skipped it.

Therapist: You know, you have to complete your group therapy sessions if you want to be released from here.

Centurion: What exactly are those group sessions supposed to help me with, huh? I’m seated between a young girl who watched her father be murdered in cold blood, and a woman who was violently raped, and I’m supposed to sit there and just be like “yeah, my brain doesn’t work so great”? Do you know how much of a piece of shit I feel like when I have to listen to people with legitimate trauma talk about why they’re here, when all I can say is that I have some sort of medical condition that doesn’t allow me to produce serotonin?

Therapist: You’re still going with that, are you?

(Centurion stops tapping his foot as he cocks his head to the side.)

Centurion: What do you mean, “still going with that”?

Therapist: Part of the reason you are unable to heal properly is because you are incapable of cleaning the wound of your trauma. To make an analogy, it would be like if you kept getting stomach aches over and over again. And you’re trying your hardest to fix your stomach aches. And sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t, but after getting it looked at more closely, you find an infected wound you completely ignored. Your mental illness isn’t just because your brain “isn’t producing enough serotonin.” It’s because you have unhealed trauma.

Centurion: From what? This isn’t going to be one of those “you’re sick because your daddy didn’t love you” conversations, is it? Because I don’t think I can take any more of that.

Therapist: No, though your relationship, or lack thereof, with your biological parents can play a role in your mental health moving forward. No, I’m taking something more tangible. Something in your career perhaps?

Centurion: Ha!

(Centurion puts his arms down from the back of the couch and just shakes his head.)

Centurion: I’ve have more injuries than I can count. I mean, look at me…

(Centurion holds his arms out and shows off some of the scars he’s accumulated over the years.)

Centurion: I look like a pin cushion. Some of these scars are on top of other scars.

Therapist: True, but I’m more interested in those scars on your wrist.

(Centurion arches his eyebrows and glances over at his wrists. There, he sees the scars the therapist is referring to – two very distinct circles left from the assault made on him six years previous. Centurion rubs his wrists before looking back over at the therapist.)

Centurion: Yeah…got them early in my career. There was a guy, called GD, who used me as some sort of message. Put me on a cross. It’s one of those things that happens.

Therapist: Is it? How many others in your line of work do you know have gotten crucified in their careers?

Centurion: Well…very few.

Therapist: It must have been scary for you. You were young. Early in your career. Something like that? Did you go to the hospital?

Centurion: Of course. It was the first hospital trip of my career. I had serious doubts about continuing my career…

Therapist: But you did anyway.

Centurion: What else was I going to do? The money was good, and the XWF started calling. I had an opportunity to leave my old federation behind and become a superstar. Why wouldn’t I do that?

Therapist: You didn’t take a whole lot of time off, did you?

Centurion: I mean…I took about a month. I wasn’t going to make any money just sitting at home, so I had to get back out there…why are we talking about this anyway? This was so long ago.

Therapist: Did you ever see GD again?

(Centurion stops and thinks for a moment. He looks into the ceiling, pondering the question, then looks back down at the therapist.)

Centurion: No. Once the CCWF went under, he just sort of…vanished. The business was changing. All that death and murder stuff wasn’t going to fly like it did there, so I’m sure he went on to do something else, or he’s in jail. Hell, he could be dead for all I know…or care, for that matter.

Therapist: It must be frustrating to have never gotten closure. To not know what happened to your abuser.

Centurion: Hey now…

(Centurion stands up and walks away from the couch. He walks over to stand in front of a window, and he leans up against the window while still looking at the therapist. His speaking as gotten faster and his breathing has gotten heavier, but there doesn’t appear to be any anger in his voice.)

Centurion: Don’t use that word. “Abuser”. That term applies to so many other people. I am not a victim, alright? I’m a professional wrestler that was caught off guard once. Do you know how many others get put into that situation and don’t make it back to the business? I’m one of the lucky ones.

Therapist: There’s no doubt about it.

Centurion: When we get into this business, we know what we’re getting into. There’s always a chance something horrible may happen to us, but that’s what we sign up for.

Therapist: Which is what your friend Jayde told you, right?

Centurion: …what?

(Centurion glares at the therapist, unsure of what she meant by those comments. Then, a wave of memories came flooding back to him. It was the Titan Wrestling Corporation in 2003. Centurion was there for a brief run as the XWF was rebuilding. A faction consisting of himself, Maverick, the aforementioned Jayde, and other former XWF wrestlers were locked in a war with a faction known as Demo Pac, lead by former Universal Champions Cooper and Bigg Rigg, as well as Little Demo, other wrestlers that have been lost to time, and a mysterious “Overweight Man”, who acted as a manager and a mouthpiece for the unit.

Backstage at one of the shows, Jayde was assaulted by the group, and left to the wills of the Overweight Man, performed some rather disgusting acts on her. Jayde was known as being a bit “precocious”, so her comments on the assault fell on deaf ears. Besides, in Jayde’s words, “there are no rules in professional wrestling. This was always a possibility. It’s what we signed up for.”

Centurion hadn’t thought about that night in years. A wave of survivors guilt washes over Centurion as he remembers the look in Jayde’s eyes that evening.)

Centurion: …how do you know about that?

Therapist: We've had some people watch a lot o wrestling in order to get a better understanding of you and what you've been through. This was one of those events that was an immediate red flag for us. You never got your revenge on her abuser either, did you?

Centurion: No, I never saw him again. I have no idea what happened to that man.

Therapist: Just like GD.

Centurion: So, what are you saying?

Therapist: I'm saying your previous trauma has made you empathic towards others, especially when it comes to those who are victimized and aren't able to seek their revenge. You may be in professional wrestling for the money, but you act more like a mercenary. You want paid, because you want to live a glamorous lifestyle, thinking it will all be taken from you soon, and you want to bring justice to people who you think have wronged others and never got their comupance. And I think you're incapable of just letting go. I think any lose ends cause your mind to break. Which is something we can work on...

(Before the therapist is able to continue, a knock on the door is heard. Before the therapist can answer, the door cracks open, and a staff member peaks her head in.)

Staff: Doctor, there is a Walter Crowe here, saying he has some legal papers demanding Mr. Cortinovis’ release.

(The therapist’s eyes go wide as she glances over at Centurion, who is in a daze as he stares down at the floor.)

Therapist: Tell him Mr. Cortinovis is nowhere near ready to be discharged. In fact, I think we are on the verge of a breakthrough.

Centurion: Sorry to tell you, doc…but I don’t think you’re going to cure me.

(The staff member closes the door as Centurion slowly walks towards the door. The therapist stands up and puts her hand out in front of her.)

Therapist: Wait! If you leave now, you’re leaving this wound unhealed. This thing is going to continue to follow you throughout your career. I can help you in here. I can’t help you if you go back out on the road.

(Centurion reaches the door and looks back at the therapist. He takes a deep breath in, and his glazed sad look is replaced by that trademark Centurion smile. She quickly shakes his head as he opens the door and points at the therapist.)

Centurion: Next time I’m in town, I’ll leave you a ticket, Doc!

------I Broke Everything New Again, Everything That I Own------

So...here we are.

I'm sure you're laughing hysterically right now, Giovanni. I'm sure you think you've always accomplished everything you set out to do. After all, you've gotten in my head. You forced me to drop everything in order to respond to your weekly messages. I was in the midst of a hot streak before you popped back up - a war with BoB, a UGWC championship around my waist - things were going smoothly for you until you popped back in my life. I would say you've been controlling my life for the past three months…

...but the truth is, you've been controlling my life for the past 20 years.

Every decision I have made in my wrestling career has been in response to that fateful night when you nailed me to a cross. Every enemy I've stared down has been a reflection of you. Every ounce of expensive liquor I've spilt is because I almost died in the ring one night, and I wanted to live my life to the fullest. Everytime I went home with some random woman, or tossed thousands of dollars on Red, or agreed to wrestle in an exploding cage of fire match…

...every time I pop those pills, or sit in that therapist office. Every time I held that gun in my mouth, and almost pulled the trigger…

...it's because of you.

Is that what you've wanted to hear your entire life, GD? That I am a completely fucking mess because of you? Well CONGRATULATIONS! I hope the payoff was as good as the suspense. I know we've been building to this moment for a very long time, and I'm sure this revelation feels less like an orgy and more like a sad orgasm.

Here's the thing about it, though, Giovanni. Those nights I had that gun in my mouth? I ended up not pulling the trigger. Why?

Spite.

I know there are too many people who would be overjoyed at my death, and I want them to be as miserable as possible. I also know that my untimely demise would have giving you the ultimate victory. It didn't matter if it was 10, 15, 20 years after the fact - if I drove myself to suicide because of your actions, you ultimately would have succeeded in your goals.

And I never wanted to give you that satisfaction. In fact, while all the wins and all the titles and all the glory was great, there was ultimately one goal I wanted to achieve more than anything. The one goal I've had in the back of my mind for 20 years, and one goal that I finally get to accomplish.

I wanted to live long enough to piss on your grave. I want to be there when they put your sorry ass in the ground, and I want to be the one who ultimately pours the dirt on your cold, lifeless body. And I want to walk away knowing it's the last time anyone will ever see you, think of you, visit you ever again. No gravestone, no funeral, no fun stories around a campfire about how funny grandpa was.

Nope, just you...gone from all eternity. As if you never existed. Poof.

In the end, that's the worst fate that could befall you, isn't it GD? All this talk of a "prophecy", building this empire and "becoming a god", and all you get for it is a Wikipedia page and your name on the program. You wish so dearly to be a monarch, when you can't even pull off being a fascist convincingly enough.

You should never have come back. You should have stayed in the shadows for the rest of eternity. That would have kept the lore and the mystique alive. You would have forever haunted my dreams, your servants would never have left you, and those who saw you, however briefly, would always be wondering what was about to happen. What would you have accomplished if the CCWF did not close? What kind of pain and anguish would you have caused if you would have been able to continue unchecked? That question would never have been answered.

Instead, you decided to risk it all, and instead of being a shadowy figure that causes pain and destruction, you're most recent legacy is that of a mid level Anarchy wrestler who couldn't get the job done against the most basic of opponents. You're not a god - you're a man. A man who bleeds. A man who feels pain. A man who can be destroyed. Most importantly, you're a man I can bury. You're a man I can move on from.

You almost took my life from me, Giovanni. Now I get to return the favor. I may not be able to kill you at Relentless, try as hard as I may, but I will take everything from you. Once your servants see your bloody, mangled body, they will leave you, en mass, upon the realization that you are nothing more than a fraud. Your career will be over, I can assure you of that. Whatever prophecy you hoped to being about - whatever Armageddon's Reign was supposed to be, is going to be snuffed out permanently. You'll never show your face in the professional wrestling world ever again. And your "benefactor" will see you as a waste of time and money, and will cut you off completely.

Which brings me to the real reason you're here - money. Someone paid you to come back. Someone sent you one hell of a check so you could return from the shadows and haunt me. And this person has to be incredibly smart, since they knew not only of your existence, but how to find you. Whoever funded you did so in order to take me out, and I'm DYING to know who that is.

I hope the money was worth losing everything. I hope you were able to fully enjoy the past several months, when you were jumping into pools of champagne or whatever the fuck you consume. Have you ever heard of the phrase "more money, more problems?" You are about to become the very embodiment of it. Cashing that check, however big it was, will be the single biggest mistake of your life. And it will be the biggest mistake of whoever sent it to you in the first place.

You said something very interesting in our contract signing. You said that I "asked for this". I didn't ask for you to be a constant presence in my life, but if you mean I asked for this to be a Raw Brutality match, then hell yeah I did. It's because I don't want to wrestle you, Giovanni. I want to fight you. I want to beat the unholy shit out of you. I want to inflict pain upon you that you've only ever inflicted on others. I don't want referees or front office stooges or medical professionals stopping this fight. I want you to bleed like I did. I want you to cry like I did. And I want you to have my face buried in your memory for as long as you live. You got to taste my blood, Giovanni. Now I get to taste yours.

One final thing, GD. I need to thank you. I know that sounds like an absolutely shocking thing to say, but allow me to explain. You've given me an opportunity at a second chance. You have granted me the ability to shed 20 years of pain and mental anguish. You have given this old man the chance to completely restart my career, which is not something I ever expected. What do I look like when we come out the other side?

Well, that's yet to be determined. In order to slay you, I'm going to have to dig down into the deepest depths of my soul, and pull out a darkness I've kept hidden my entire life. When I'm done with you...I don't know if I'll ever be able to bury that again. You may have turned me into a monster - a copycat of the very thing I have been attempting to kill my entire career. I may wake up Saturday morning and burn everything - my friends, my family, my entire life - to the ground in the pursuit of a newfound greatness. That could happen.

Or, I could wake up Saturday morning feeling like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I could be calmer and more focused than I've ever been in my life. I may become the Guru of Happiness, talking about mindfulness and some shit. I don't know. I won't know until this is over. But I do know what you're going to be…

You're going to be a broken, shriveled husk. A shell of a human being that is discarded. When you wake up on Saturday morning, you're going to find yourself lower than the pigs and skunks of the earth.

That is...if you wake up at all.

If you don't think I'm willing to go deep enough, and get sadistic enough to kill another human being, I implore you to watch this year's Snow Job. Actually, you could skip that. Just go to a cemetery in Green Bay, Wisconsin and look for a small grave with the words "Holy Roman War Horse" etched in it. That's all that remains of the last person who didn't think I had it in me to take a life. You'll also notice a distant lack of flowers, or lights, or anything that looks like anyone cares about him. That's a snapshot into your future.

This isn't just for me, GD. This is for Miyoko. It's for Boris. It's for every one of those innocent people you've kidnapped and brainwashed. It's for Jerry, the cameraman you stabbed in the CCWF. It's for Roller, whose career never recovered. It's for Shawn and T, the two original sacrifices. It's for any other human being you have victimized whose names and faces are lost to time. And, yes, this is also for me. Enjoy your last days of being a god, Giovanni, because this Friday night, you will meet your…

FINAL FANTASY!!!]]> <![CDATA[Welcome to The Bronx - Part 3]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41922 Tue, 21 Sep 2021 13:48:54 -0700 ElijahMartin]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41922

After a pair of video shoots near the Throgs Neck Bridge, our tour of the Bronx takes us to the Eastchester neighborhood in the northeast section of the borough. We are looking at one of the many entrances into a residential development called Edenwald Houses, as Elijah Martin now enters the picture from stage right and faces the camera.

For the second stop in our tour of the Bronx, allow me to welcome you to the Eastchester neighborhood and the Edenwald Houses development. Allow me to just be blunt as I usually am and call this development for what it is... welcome to the projects. This is a veritable cornucopia of poverty, which reflects the melting pot of nationalities that exist across the Bronx and the other boroughs in New York City. Every minute of every hour of every single day is drastically important to the families who live here... at any point, the lights could be turned off... the furnace could stop working and you gotta suck it up with as many blankets and sweatshirts as possible to survive a cold winter's night... you could approach your door with an eviction notice stapled to your door. Even worse, you could walk around a corner and face the ill fate a teenage boy faced just a couple of weeks ago... stabbed to death for no rhyme or reason at all, just some poor sumbitch trying to make it from one day to the next by taking the money and belongings on you at that time.

The disarray, the violence, the pain, the struggle... it's all a part of who I am. It's neighborhoods just like this in Eastchester and others that make up the complexion of the Bronx, which has lit a fire under my ass for as long as I can remember to never accept defeat, never accept setbacks, NEVER... ACCEPT FAILURE! And so, after a little over a month of trolling around the Anarchy television show, I get my first experience under the brighter lights of an XWF pay-per-view. And wouldn't you know, not only is it taking place at another city known for its rampant street violence in Chicago... but it's the biggest show on the XWF calendar, Relentless! I proved in my XWF debut that I don't work very well with others, and Edward Junior had to find that out the hard way as my unfortunate tag team partner that night. But then last week, I showed my worth in this company by taking Big Preesh to the woodshed for a good ol' West Virginia sized country beating. So what does Loverboy and the rest of XWF management decide to do.... they REWARD ME, with a Triple Threat Match to determine the Number One contender for the Anarchy Championship!

It's amazing, this poor attitude I have has gotten me into trouble with some people, those who like to tell me that I should RESPECT authority, that I should bow down and KNOW MY PLACE, and even those who wanna talk the talk AND walk the walk... but we'll come back to her in a second. Let's first address the independent party that seems to be stuck in the middle of everything, which is Bianca McBride. Yeah... I've heard some stuff about you... I've even gotten to see what you're all about recently in your debut on Anarchy... but like my friend Shania used to say, that don't impress me much. I know that some of the talent in this company has worked with you before in other parts of the wrestling world and you've got recommendations from this guy and that girl, but once that bell rings, WORDS... are about as useless as a shit-flavored lollipop. Sometimes confidence is made to be shattered, reputations are made to be broken, and this weekend in Chicago... Bianca... your dreams of being a champion so soon in XWF... will become a NIGHTMARE!

But let's get to the heart of the issues I have in this match, this little bitch calling herself a queen named Tara Fenix. For whatever reason, this young lady had someone open the XWF doors for her to walk in, despite being a part of the enemy known as OCW. She claims to be all about the business, she claims to respect the game, but she couldn't be more wrong... THIS BUSINESS... IS NOT A GAME TO ME! The SPORT of professional wrestling is MY LIFE, that squared circle that we set foot inside is MY HOME, I don't know anything but this business! I'm not gonna walk out on the street and pick up a job driving bulldozers, I'm not gonna walk into a boardroom and get hired by any Fortune Five Hundred company, I'm not gonna jump into a pool and train to become the next great Olympic swimmer...

Martin hits himself with a few punches to the forehead, causing an old wound to start slowly bleeding down the right side of his face!!

THIS IS ALL I HAVE! I don't have friends, I don't have family, I don't have acquaintances... it's just me, the ring and GOD ALMIGHTY, as I bust my ass every single second of every single day to make sure I become THE BEST... IN THE WORLD! But you wouldn't know anything about that, because you just walked into the door like you were dropped from the OCW heavens and had a Number One contender match just handed to you on a silver fucking platter... no debut match on TV, no debut promo behind the scenes, not even a FORMAL FUCKING INTRODUCTION OR SHAKING HANDS WITH THE BOYS AND GIRLS IN THE LOCKER ROOM!! For being all about respect, your sheer presence alone on this card for Relentless is a slap in the face to anyone in this company who busted their ass to get to this weekend. And you... YOU WANNA TALK ABOUT RESPECT?! You wanna tweet me about how your arrival and who got you into XWF is none of my business.. I think it is EVERY BIT MY BUSINESS! And this Friday night in Chicago, I'm gonna give you the proper introduction to XWF.... the HARD WAY...

...BITCH!

]]> <![CDATA[Excellent! Part Deux.]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41916 Mon, 20 Sep 2021 23:57:28 -0700 Prof. Bobby Bourbon]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41916 [bwo][/bwo]

Feudal Japan, 1567. The court of Nobunaga is thriving with geishas, dignitaries, and other shit are here. If you're an expert on this kind of thing, you'll note a few historic inconsistencies, but it looks authentic enough to those who aren't total Nippophiles. As it's business as usual here, it's completely out of the ordinary as a phone booth materializes in the room, causing everyone to stop what they're doing. Bobby and TK step out of the booth and look around.

We went to Benihana?

No, I think this is ancient Japan.

This place smells fucking old, thats for goddamn sure.

Many within the court begin to scramble, and a few draw their swords in shock, taking defensive stances.

I think we're scaring them.

We’re the best goddamn tag team ever and we scare lots of fucking people.

True.

Bobby pulls his phone out and starts to meddle with it.

Are you trying to pull up a fucking translator, Bobby?

I thought of that but I'm not going to get any signal.

This is Japan, there's signal fucking everywhere.

Not in 1575.

Huh? Do you think we could talk to fucking Elon Musk about, I don't know, getting internet service for the goddamn past?

We could, but he's just going to think you’re high again.

TK grins.

Well, I mean, I am.

Fair. I'm glad you're at least not tripping balls like I am. This place looks so 3D right now.

Hey, you know what this shit reminds me of?

Bill and Ted?

No, goddamn it. I mean, besides that.

Benihana.

Well, that too. Are you gonna fucking guess, or what?

I'm on mushrooms and just tried to Google something while in feudal Japan. My next guess is it reminds you of the crappy Ninja Turtles movie.

That’s exactly what I was fucking thinking!

Bobby and TK exchange a no-look fistbump, a move so slick and amazing the entire Imperial court gasps in stunned awe.

Y'know, we could go back and fix that whole mess so they make the awesome second Micheal Bay Ninja Turtles sooner.

We could even…

Yes. We could be Bebop and Rocksteady.

Sweet.

Finally one of the members of Nobunaga's court starts shouting at Bobby and TK.

Don’t fucking interrupt, with your goddamn click-clack shit, mother fucker!

Technically we are interrupting them. Watch this.

Bobby boops a few times on the face of his smartphone, and a basic ringtone starts playing. Again, the Imperial court is taken completely aback by the small device making weird music coming from the big curly haired man's hand. Bobby chuckles.

Buncha rubes.

Let’s go stop a shit kids movie from being fucking made!

Right! That’s the most responsible use of a time machine there is!

Bobby and TK crowd back into the phone booth. Bobby presses a few buttons.

Do you know what the Hell you’re doing this time?

Bobby is hitting more buttons.

I think so, no, wait, yeah, I got it.

The phone booth is being surrounded by red lighting once again. The portal forms underneath and the phone booth drops down. The last thing you hear before your screen fades to commercial is...

FUCK YOU!!! HOLLYWOOD!

[Image: 3Cug5sV.png]

Hi, I’m Jeff Bezos.

We see Jeff Bezos standing in front of a pedestal with a very old looking book atop it.

I’m the CEO of Amazon and an amateur space traveler. Let me tell you, firsthand, that my ability to go into space was thanks to you. Not just the Amazon workers who toil in slavelike conditions because their medical coverage needs have to be met by employers and we barely pay above the going rate. After all, they get to put that they worked for us on their CV. It also goes out to all the fatty white people who no longer go out of the house to get simple groceries, like soap, detergents, and self-care items that would otherwise aid in their ability to be presentable when leaving the house if they weren’t suddenly so dedicated to being shut-ins. Now, not to seem crass, this is a global pandemic, but well after the waves of CoVid are gone, we at Amazon, along with our friends at Doordash and Comcast, hope you continue to enjoy the walls you surround yourself with in relative comfort as your growing suspicion of the outside world manifests in ways so grand you’ll stop trusting the very light of the sun.

Bezos smiles and gives a thumbs up.

Now I have with me something very special. This is the journal of Leonardo DaVinci. I won it off of Bill Gates in a bet that I would get to space first.

Bezos winks.

I won.

Bezos pulls out a Boring Company flamethrower.

I love being super rich.

Jeff Bezos torches the journal of Leonardo DaVinci. Shortly after, we get the standard BOB voiceover guy.

Amazon. Insulate and Isolate.

[Image: 3Cug5sV.png]

After the commercial, we cut to see the offices of New Line Cinema, 1992. In one executive board room, we see a bunch of people in suits all looking well pleased with one another. The head of the board speaks.

Well, we’ve done it! The script for Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III is complete, and I think we all agree, this will be the most incredible superhero film ever made. We’ll be incorporating such favorites as Bebop and Rocksteady, see the dawn of Krang, and the crossover with Batman is going to be a huge success. I can’t believe that Warner Brothers is on board with that one, but Michael Keaton is excited about it too. We’ve even got Steven Spielberg on board to direct, he says he has some incredible ideas and people working on computer animation to get us some of the most mind blowing effects Hollywood has ever seen. Well, let’s go take a brief lunch, and then come back and get everything finalized!

The entire board room leaves, excited for the future. As they do, the phone booth slams into existence. Bobby and TK step out of the booth.

Ah, there’s the fucking thing there!

TK picks up the now known to be original script and synopsis for Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III. Bobby rubs his chin.

Cool, let’s destroy it and that way we’ll never have to even remember that movie.

Yeah!

TK hands it to Bobby, who rips it in half. TK then pulls out a Boring Company flamethrower and incinerates it as Bobby tosses it in the air. The duo then duck back into the phone booth and whisk themselves away. Shortly after, the entire board comes back into the room. They see the pile of ash on the table.

Oh, oh no! The script! Well, we have this back-up where the Ninja Turtles go back in time to Japan…

The phone booth then slams into 1995. Bobby and TK step out of the phone booth. The approach a man.

Are you Mr. Granger?

I am!

TK produces a pair of bolt cutters as Bobby cocks an eyebrow. The camera fades to black.

Hey, what are you, those are my pants! Oh no! Not the bolt cutters there!

We hear the man howl in agony as we cut to another commercial.

[Image: 3Cug5sV.png]

We see three men sitting in a boat. One of them is older, looking to be in his fifties, and the other two somewhere in their twenties. They're all sitting with rod and reel in hand, having a day fishing. One of the young men cracks open a bottle plainly marked 'beer'. He takes a sip.

Ah. This is the life, ain't it? Thanks for taking us out today, dad. It means a lot.

The older gentleman reaches into the cooler and grabs himself another plainly marked bottle of 'beer'. He twists the cap off, clinks his bottle against his son's, and takes a sip.

Son, I'm happy to do this.

The third young man looks over at the other two.

Can I have one?

With a mocking sneer, the other young man repeats what the first said in a nasally voice.

"Can I have one?" Seriously, dad, why did we have to bring this loser?

Son, he's your step-brother, and as much as I dislike him, his mom is a hot piece of ass who lets me do things to her like she's a cheap whore.

The step-son/brother looks kind of sad.

You are worthless. Here, I brought you these.

The elder man pulls out a warm six pack of Doc Light. He throws it in the water.

Go get it, monkey boy!

The step-son sighs as he's pushed into the water by the other young man, resigned to go swimming for his swill in the lake while both the other men laugh.

When your taste buds can't handle the real thing. Try DOC Light.

[Image: Ke9tgyW.png]

[bwo][/bwo]

Bobby and TK are being filmed in black and white, still in their zoot suits. TK is having a few drinks and Bobby is looking impassioned by anger. Bobby cracks his neck, then his knuckles.

There's no gray area with Them No Good Bastards, shit sinks. Theres only fucking black and there’s only goddamn white. You either have what it takes to fucking stand next to US, the greatest tag team in professional rassling, or you just dont. Let me be the goddamn prick to tell ya, the ones that DID have what it took. Weren’t standing very fucking long. With that out of the damn way, our next order of business. I have to show the XWF, bWo, and un-fucking-fortunately OCW fans around the world this shit. Todd, play that clip from Warfare!

[Image: BFEA0455-B0-A0-4-A42-BF6-D-42-E59-DCC3454.gif]

[Image: BFEA0455-B0-A0-4-A42-BF6-D-42-E59-DCC3454.gif]

Do you see that shit? Seriously, look at it again! Todd, play that shit again!

Todd does as TK asks and plays the clip again. Right before Todd plays the clip TK pulls out a cigar.

Betsy I’ve heard of the camera adding ten pounds, but fifty? All while making you look stubby, as fuck, come on now. Plus, she looks as out of breath as she does in the back. When she trying to bite her fucking ear, for a half hour. I’ve seen it! Then you got Crycana. Look at that goddamn blank stare on that bitch. She looks like a fucking Filipino hooker, the cold blank stare of a woman who sucked too many dicks on her way to get to her position. I hear it’s preferably doggy-style, but, I mean, goddamn that must be the worst! To know without a shadow of a doubt that you’re heading to the fucking meat grinder again, BUT, it is Main Eventing night one of her first Relentless. That’s A LOT of dicks.

TK’s demeanor shifts from playful asshole to complete dickhead with the flip and flick of his gold Zippo. He lights his cigar and continues.

Look, it's time to get serious, we have an undeniable energy.

TK is relaxed and leaning up against the wall smoking on a cigar. Bobby is pacing like a caged animal.

They can talk about our L’s and spread whatever fucking narrative they want, but the last tag team loss we took was to The Thugs. Then we proceeded to dismantle them and Betsy’s new lapdog.

TK looks over at Bobby. Bobby doesn’t look like he’s in a good mood.

They don’t have the design or chemistry, where we have it mastered in multiple degrees. So, bow down! We’re beasts, Hell, even monstrosities. Nah, we’re a different breed. We don’t have time to shed a tear for our enemies. They can flap their cock suckers all they want. What they can't fucking do is deny Us No Good Bastards another flawless goddamn victory.
Their first promo shows a fuck ton, doesn’t it? They have come to the Bastard’s ministry, where we piss Excellence and shit out entertainment. Big differences between us, hoes, here's a quick one.

TK cracks his knuckles and he can feel the intensity of Bobby radiating, like a Super Saiyan’s aura.

We have the fucking timing and delivery. Whereas you waste time and use up all your goddamn energy. We don’t waste any time getting up in their guts. The facts are, you two are trying to reach up just to try to touch our fucking nuts.

TK smirks knowing that these “strong” women will eat that up.

Let’s take a moment to talk about what these clown shoe-wearing bitches are saying. You know what? Fuck, that shit! Not right now. Huh-uh. Let’s put an end to this madness, you’re fucking with savages. You thought we’d fall off eventually? You can put all those thoughts in your casket, so you can lay with them, as they close the lid.

TK makes a finger gun and acts like he’s shooting them like he did Lincoln .

Electrified Cage, are you fucking kidding me? Every time I throw Crycana’s brainless bitch-ass into that goddamn cage, as she starts frying. I’ll think to my-fucking-self. Why does this bitch keep trying the same shit? When every time she fucking fails. Does she think Betsy’s Mid-fucking-level tenure is enough to overshadow her thesaurus-sized loss record from 2020 to 2021? That's the goddamn definition of, stupid fuck.

Bobby snarls and grunts as he continues to pace back and forth.

Trust me, cunts, we’re ready for action! While you lie to the XWF fans around the world, all those bWo fans coming to Soldier Field, and those at fucking home. When you say that you’re beating us in the Main Event. Betsy let be crystal fucking clear when we do collide in that cage. You're going to find out firsthand the difference between ‘Ol Thunder Knuckles when something is important compared to being handicapped and clowning legacies.

The look in TK’s eyes as he finishes that sentence could kill a man on death row.

You two bitches want to talk like because your women you’ll win?

TK begins to laugh but Bobby is all business, still pacing, still angry.

Shut the fuck up. Really? That’s some horse shit you can peddle at a goddamn flea market. Oh, not because you’re women, nope, it’s because you're entitled little Debitaught.

Jimmy could be heard off-camera correcting TK.

Debutantes.

TK glares off-camera in the direction of Jimmy.

I will fucking end you right now, Jimmy!

Jimmy cowers away faster than you can say “Lycana’s Xtreme title run was a fraud”.

Thinking the fucking world owes you something cause you have a gash. Guess what, It fucking doesn’t. In that electric cage there's going to be no time for thinking only reaction time because we’re going on the fucking attack. Betsy and Crycana, you won’t even slow us down because there is no goddamn team on this planet! That can hold us fucking back.

TK pats Bobby’s shoulder as he paces by him.

Before I give the floor to Bobby. I'm going to put a fucking warning out and it pretty goddamn simple. Fuck around find out. Bobby coming the fuck on now and something deep inside him is about to climb out. You all wanted to take it too fucking far now Bobby's kick it into over drive and show you dumb cunts what he's all about.

Bobby looks incensed and intense as he paces. He stops and looks at the camera. He pauses, looks eerily calm, reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, and puts his mask back on.

Woah, I thought…

Nobody gives a shit, bro.

But…

Nobody gives a fuck. I can put this on, take it off, paint it purple, have it covered in spikes, claim it has magical powers, and you know what? None of that even fucking matters, because if you run back what happened at Warfare all you’re going to see is pure pedestrian, run of the mill shit. My mask on or off means fuck all, right? Six years. Six long fucking years in the XWF, and someone gets lucky on a night that ultimately didn't even matter, and nobody gives a fuck some lame duck, Doctor Who knock-off so uninspired that Stephen Moffat won't sue for plagiarism lest he suffer the embarrassment of association took it. Nobody gives a fuck that a doofy werewolf showed up after that pulls new powers out of her asshole every 2 seconds to account for a lack of actual talent. Pale fucking comparisons intended to make fans think of something genuine and actually good like a pair of cardboard cutouts of Jodie Whitaker and Lon Chaney with half the personality. They followed the same exact playbook everybody has before, because coming up with something new just ain't in their DNA.

Preach.

Show up, jump Them No Good Bastards. Just like MorbidMind, EXP, the Dissentients, and the Disintegrators. Thing is, these goofy fucks think recycling the same-old-same-old is somehow novel, that or they just haven't been paying attention, and they're doomed when the bell rings and the realest deal in wrestling today, the all original, the never-before, never-again gruesome twosome that is Us No Good Bastards, so scary because we aren't just two steps ahead we're establishing where you walk, get to work and do what nobody has ever dreamed.

Amen, brother Bourbon.

So, Bets, you're the reason nobody cares I took my mask off or kept it on. I said it before, our history doesn't matter, because your track record just goes to show you aren't and never will be prime time. Let’s go back to March Madness. Betsy came into that show with all the hype in the world, talking heads singing your praises, saying this would be when you turned that corner and came out of the shadow of every name you've attached yourself to in your long but ultimately middling career. Out of the shadows you came indeed, but the lights were too bright. You must've been blinded, and you fumbled. Couldn't get it done when it counted.

Even after March Madness Betsy’s ass still gave herself the title Queen of XWF. Bitch what do you think XWF hands out third place participation trophies? You fucking lost, cunt, not only that you ate the goddamn pin. Ask Warstien!

TK gives his truly distinctive, unreplicable, jerking-off hand gesture. That’s when Bobby takes off his mask once more.

[Image: QUfRkov.jpg]

TK looks at Bobby strangely.

Uh…

Bobby rubs his eyes.

Sorry, this whole leading the charge of XWF talent taking over OCW has me a little groggy, sorta why I goofed against Betsy.

But…

Bobby dons his mask again.

Then we go to Leap of Faith. Faith. That's what everybody had that time, right Bets? You might have had a bad go of it at March Madness, and once again the pundits all stepped forward to bring up how this was going to be your big night. This was when Betsy would be in the limelight, the breakout star of 2021, catapulting herself to the stars without the aide of a prop she cooked up while watching BBC America. The Shooting Star Championship, something so valuable it's now defunct, and you killed it that night girl! You helped quash any relevance to that whole division like Clooney killed the Batman franchise in the ‘90s. All the action, all the drama, and like Danny DeVito waiting in line for a seat on a roller-coaster, you just came up short. The big stage was just too busy for you to make your mark yet again.

Leap of Faith, didn’t we kick the shit out of The Disenfranchised at that pay-per-view? It’s fucking hard keeping track when your so goddamn dominant.

TK shrugs as Bobby doffs his mask again.

[Image: c1SF0Bx.jpg]

How are you…

Bobby sticks a finger in his ear and jiggles it while maneuvering his jaw.

All the flying, bro, my ears are popping.

TK is still flabbergasted at what he’s seeing but it's confusing him. Bobby puts his mask back on.

Moving on, we go to War Games! Yet again, this is when Betsy is going to shake off the stigma of being a bit player in someone else's whole thing, and with Lycana at her side, no less! Dang girl, that whole "boys are a let down" thing you're harping on sure loses steam when you realize the two of you failed spectacularly at War Games, and against us no less! Did you let Warstein and Estrada know beforehand it would be their fault you got pinned at War Games? I can tell you aren't accepting of the fact you, once again, couldn't get it done when it counted on pay-per-view, you can't own the fact you let down so many fans of yours again by being the bridesmaid and never the bride. Hell, I can't accept it. I was the reason you didn't do a damn thing at War Games homeslice! That wasn't on account of your misandry, not on account of your ever disappointing method of performance, it wasn't on account of cheap underhanded tactics. It was my talent, plain and simple, prevailing.

Up in, them guts.

TK pats Bobby’s shoulder with a wicked grin adorned on his face. Bobby doffs the mask yet again.

[Image: GdwNZUe.jpg]

TK rolls his eyes.

How the fuck are you doing that?

Simple, I grab the back of the mask and pull up.

Goddamn amazing.

Bobby and TK exchange their one of a kind, incredible no-look fistbump, as only Them No Good Bastards do. Bobby puts the mask back on.

So here we are at Relentless, Them No Good Bastards defending against the unnamed duo of Betsy and Lycana, and it's time once again for Betsy to prove that in the grand scheme of things, she matters not. See, as little as it matters if I wear a mask or not, your career, as long as it’s been, is even less relevant. You're coming to the biggest stage again, this one bigger than any you've ever been on, for one reason, the same reason you always do, and that's to choke. On that note, I have come up with a few names for y'alls team to use until you split up, inevitably and Lycana goes back to palling around with Marf and you go back to being James Raven's arm decoration and you both completely abandon the "male failure" rhetoric like you were discarding a used tampon. So, first off, there's the Dead Weights, two lumps hoping to get carried but ultimately tossed around by the mighty Thunder Knuckles and the ferocious Mr. Bobby Bourbon. Then there's 2 Broke Girls, which is befitting since we will break you and you're both like a mediocre sitcom barely anyone acknowledges. How about We Go Splat? That's a novel take and a reference to something too big for Lycana to get involved in. Them No Good Bitches? Lord knows you've ripped off pop culture, why not the best tag team ever? Bark At The Moon! Because Lycana has werewolf powers and Betsy is a fucking space case. Wait, you know what TK?

Please keep your damn mask on, it's weirding me the fuck out.

Bobby takes the mask off anyway.

[Image: a5xUj2a.jpg]

God damnit!

God has nothing to do with it.

You’re not even mute! And where’d the top hat come from?

I’m cool like that.

Well, yeah, we are pretty cool. So, how’s the Scissor Sisters sound?

Ew. I get where you're going, but I think Lycana was a cutter in her time.

HA! Hmm, let’s try, Sloppy Seconds.

Nah, that would mean either of them are fuckable.

The Bushwhackers.

Already taken.

No goddamn way!

Way.

Huh, never heard of them, are they more OCW legends or something?

Nah.

How about Coughing and Wheezing?

Because those are signs of choking?

Fucking-a right!

I like that, but after Relentless, I think the most fitting name for them will be Dead and Gone.

These bitches are going down like the goddamn Titanic.

Bobby puts his mask back on. After that, Them No Good Bastards, raise their XWF Tag Team Championships high in the air. So, Betsy and Lycana, can see the gold shimmer, as the light reflects off them. The Bastards know that's the closest their competition will come to seeing the belts in their true glory. Held by the most prolific tag team in professional wrestling history.]]> <![CDATA[The Eulogy of Billy Blankenship]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41914 Mon, 20 Sep 2021 11:31:54 -0700 Freddy Fabulous]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41914 The doors of Bonkerz Comedy Club in Daytona Beach fly open from the inside as dozens of patrons are sent hurrying out.

Behind them customers, the fearsome foursome of The Disintigrators and Fabmongous can be seen pushing and shoving the last few stragglers out the door.

“Out you go, punk! This is the property of the FAB FIVE for as long as we want it!”

Dave Mustang shouts as he pushes a Jimmy Durante lookalike out the door.

“GET STEPPIN’ GRANNY!!!”

Echoes Johnny Steele, putting a boot to the backside of an old woman and kick-pushing her out of the venue.

After everyone is cleared out, Mustang, Steele, Big Preesh, and BMI take seats in the front row, just as the curtain on the small stage opens.

Out from behind the curtain, dressed in a snazzy three piece suit bedazzled with glittering red, white, and blue sequins, walks the eponym of the Fab Five himself, Freddy Fabulous.

Freddy grabs a mic off the stand in the middle of the stage, and waves.

“Well, well, well, packed house we have here tonight! Let me tell you all… I just flew in from Baltimore, and BOY ARE MY ARMS TIRED!”

The four big men holler with laughter in their seats, slapping their thighs and whistling.

“You see everyone… Billy Blankenship apparently thinks that a fight can be prepared for with a stand up comedy act. He’s more suited to a career in vaudeville than in the ring. Which might be good for him, come Relentless, because I plan on picking the man up by the scruff of his neck and tossing him into the front row like he was a young Buster Keaton. Here’s a few zingers about Billy that might give you more entertainment value than anything he’s had to say in the months he’s been in the XWF. Upon perusing Blankenship’s biography, you might be inclined to believe him when he says he’s barely over the age of 35. If that were true, though, it would be 35 years of Twinkies and Mountain Dew from the time he was in diapers. The man has the complexion to make it big someday, but only in Madame Tussaud’s. One afternoon with Billy proves his claim to be a lie - the man was clearly born when abortions were still illegal. This is easily verified by the sort of hairline that can only be given with a wire hanger. Legend has it that Missus Blankenship was originally pregnant with twins, which would explain why Billy has the personality of an absorbed fetus… and also his two superfluous nipples.”

That one really gets to Dave Mustang, who stands up and claps both hands to his thighs.

“GOT damn, you are a comedic genius Freddy!”

Freddy shoots Dave a pair of finger guns and continues.

“Let me explain to you good people at home what you’re going to see at Relentless Noir. What you’re going to see is a bonafide stud named Freddy Fabulous enter a ring against a man made of vanilla pudding. A man who hasn’t lifted a finger to do anything other than stick said finger up his cornhole while wearing women’s panties. A man who considers himself in shape because an oval is technically a shape. A man who is so pale under his shirt…”

Johnny Steele stands with his hands around his mouth.

“HOW PALE IS HE!?!?!”

“He’s SO pale, that the pasty white skin of his face is actually the darkest part of him. He defies the physics of the farmer’s tan, ladies and gentlemen, and is somehow even whiter when you get him down to his skivvies… which is precisely what is going to happen to him at Relentless, so I recommend bringing one of those little boxes children use when they want to look at an eclipse without burning their retinas. These poor people are going to go snowblind once Billy Blenkenship’s C-cups come tumbling out of his man girdle en route to being left standing in nothing more than the drawers he stole from Atara Themis’ locker room and the butt plug he shipped overnight after snapping the last one clean in half from clenching hard enough to get to his patented soprano shriek for his promos. LET ME BE CRYSTAL CLEAR - what you are going to witness at Relentless is not a fair fight. It is not a contest between equals. It is myself, a thoroughbred, a product of the perfect symbiosis between breeding and training, squaring off against a creature who will certainly be announced as residing underneath a bridge, who is 50% hot air, 50% ‘I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter,’ and 100% jackass. It is going to be like a farmer leading his obese, broken horse into a field behind the barn to euthanize it. Now considering that Billy’s mother answered to the name of ‘Daisy’ and wore a bell around her neck, he should be damn familiar with that metaphor. Hit me, Preesh.”

Big Preesh opens up the soft cooler slung over his shoulder and pulls out a Pamplemousse-flavored can of La Croix and underhanded it to Freddy, who catches, opens, and takes a sip from it.

“Billy, at Relentless your dreams will come true. You get to be flipped, stripped, and violated by a bigger, better man. Then afterwards hopefully the Can-Jap Connection will see for themselves you have nothing to offer them other than your hands in their pockets and a big L on their record. Dave and Johnny, say hi.”

The Disintigrators wave with smiles on their faces. On stage, Freddy crinkles up his now empty can.

“And now? The jokes are over. Let’s go to work. Billy, like you always say...”

"Thank you."

"FUCK YOU!!!"

"Bye-bye."

He throws the empty can onto the stage floor and hops down into the front row as his clients stand and flank him on either side. Together, the Fab 5 head for the door as the scene cuts.
]]> The doors of Bonkerz Comedy Club in Daytona Beach fly open from the inside as dozens of patrons are sent hurrying out.

Behind them customers, the fearsome foursome of The Disintigrators and Fabmongous can be seen pushing and shoving the last few stragglers out the door.

“Out you go, punk! This is the property of the FAB FIVE for as long as we want it!”

Dave Mustang shouts as he pushes a Jimmy Durante lookalike out the door.

“GET STEPPIN’ GRANNY!!!”

Echoes Johnny Steele, putting a boot to the backside of an old woman and kick-pushing her out of the venue.

After everyone is cleared out, Mustang, Steele, Big Preesh, and BMI take seats in the front row, just as the curtain on the small stage opens.

Out from behind the curtain, dressed in a snazzy three piece suit bedazzled with glittering red, white, and blue sequins, walks the eponym of the Fab Five himself, Freddy Fabulous.

Freddy grabs a mic off the stand in the middle of the stage, and waves.

“Well, well, well, packed house we have here tonight! Let me tell you all… I just flew in from Baltimore, and BOY ARE MY ARMS TIRED!”

The four big men holler with laughter in their seats, slapping their thighs and whistling.

“You see everyone… Billy Blankenship apparently thinks that a fight can be prepared for with a stand up comedy act. He’s more suited to a career in vaudeville than in the ring. Which might be good for him, come Relentless, because I plan on picking the man up by the scruff of his neck and tossing him into the front row like he was a young Buster Keaton. Here’s a few zingers about Billy that might give you more entertainment value than anything he’s had to say in the months he’s been in the XWF. Upon perusing Blankenship’s biography, you might be inclined to believe him when he says he’s barely over the age of 35. If that were true, though, it would be 35 years of Twinkies and Mountain Dew from the time he was in diapers. The man has the complexion to make it big someday, but only in Madame Tussaud’s. One afternoon with Billy proves his claim to be a lie - the man was clearly born when abortions were still illegal. This is easily verified by the sort of hairline that can only be given with a wire hanger. Legend has it that Missus Blankenship was originally pregnant with twins, which would explain why Billy has the personality of an absorbed fetus… and also his two superfluous nipples.”

That one really gets to Dave Mustang, who stands up and claps both hands to his thighs.

“GOT damn, you are a comedic genius Freddy!”

Freddy shoots Dave a pair of finger guns and continues.

“Let me explain to you good people at home what you’re going to see at Relentless Noir. What you’re going to see is a bonafide stud named Freddy Fabulous enter a ring against a man made of vanilla pudding. A man who hasn’t lifted a finger to do anything other than stick said finger up his cornhole while wearing women’s panties. A man who considers himself in shape because an oval is technically a shape. A man who is so pale under his shirt…”

Johnny Steele stands with his hands around his mouth.

“HOW PALE IS HE!?!?!”

“He’s SO pale, that the pasty white skin of his face is actually the darkest part of him. He defies the physics of the farmer’s tan, ladies and gentlemen, and is somehow even whiter when you get him down to his skivvies… which is precisely what is going to happen to him at Relentless, so I recommend bringing one of those little boxes children use when they want to look at an eclipse without burning their retinas. These poor people are going to go snowblind once Billy Blenkenship’s C-cups come tumbling out of his man girdle en route to being left standing in nothing more than the drawers he stole from Atara Themis’ locker room and the butt plug he shipped overnight after snapping the last one clean in half from clenching hard enough to get to his patented soprano shriek for his promos. LET ME BE CRYSTAL CLEAR - what you are going to witness at Relentless is not a fair fight. It is not a contest between equals. It is myself, a thoroughbred, a product of the perfect symbiosis between breeding and training, squaring off against a creature who will certainly be announced as residing underneath a bridge, who is 50% hot air, 50% ‘I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter,’ and 100% jackass. It is going to be like a farmer leading his obese, broken horse into a field behind the barn to euthanize it. Now considering that Billy’s mother answered to the name of ‘Daisy’ and wore a bell around her neck, he should be damn familiar with that metaphor. Hit me, Preesh.”

Big Preesh opens up the soft cooler slung over his shoulder and pulls out a Pamplemousse-flavored can of La Croix and underhanded it to Freddy, who catches, opens, and takes a sip from it.

“Billy, at Relentless your dreams will come true. You get to be flipped, stripped, and violated by a bigger, better man. Then afterwards hopefully the Can-Jap Connection will see for themselves you have nothing to offer them other than your hands in their pockets and a big L on their record. Dave and Johnny, say hi.”

The Disintigrators wave with smiles on their faces. On stage, Freddy crinkles up his now empty can.

“And now? The jokes are over. Let’s go to work. Billy, like you always say...”

"Thank you."

"FUCK YOU!!!"

"Bye-bye."

He throws the empty can onto the stage floor and hops down into the front row as his clients stand and flank him on either side. Together, the Fab 5 head for the door as the scene cuts.
]]> <![CDATA["Fire hoo-ha."]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41912 Mon, 20 Sep 2021 07:42:11 -0700 Tara]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41912 [Image: alissa-white-gluz-carnifex.gif]

The sound of a blaze could be heard before anything else; as the imagery fades in, we are met with exactly that: an inferno inside of a gravel pit. It was made into an emblem that the fans sitting at home would instantly recognize, and it was further evidenced in the manner that it didn’t burn with the ordinary orange flame, but rather with the chemical combination, it roared as a blue flame. It came as no surprise that while surveying the location, they would find the one and only Tara Fenix standing with her head held high, cocked slightly to the side, and a smirk that she was known for. She stood where the phoenix wings met facing outward where the camera had gotten closer. Her hands held onto the lapels. Her stance did not falter. She snickered before even muttering one single word, and then licked her lips before finally making her formal introduction.

“It’s about time, isn’t it?” Were the words that escaped; there was a cockiness to her voice; it was one of her qualities. An overbearing confidence. All of the years she spent inside the squared circle would do that. She was well-versed around the world. However, she still did not move a muscle.

“There is something that I have been known to bring to the ring every single time that I step into it. A certain aspect… a greatness that accompanies me. A passion. A fire.” Tara couldn’t help but chuckle as each word danced off her tongue, “A fire that I bring to the ring every time! Let’s not be coy… People know that when I bring my fire hoo-ha anywhere, that they are going to get an inferno that they are going to talk about for YEARS! And so the world asked when I would grace the XWF with my presence… When I would bring that fire to the XWF, when I would bring the fire to the XWF, and guess what? The stars finally aligned: here, I stand.” That same looming confidence was in her voice; she didn’t take her hands away from her jacket but she pivoted on her feet and began pacing back and forth slowly in front of the inferno. “Here, I stand to let the XWF audience see firsthand what it is that I am capable of doing… To find out firsthand that everything you’ve heard about me: the praises, the hype, the reputation, is true. That I do what I say I will. That I’m capable of what I say I am. There are people who look each and every week to see who it is they are going to step into the ring with. There are people each and every week who see the names of people standing against them… The names like Thaddeus Duke. The names like James Raven. The names like Elena DeDraca. They look at these names and they get those butterflies in their stomach, immediately followed by self-doubt, and I--” Tara shrugged, “--don’t get that. I know who they are, I know what they are capable of, but I don’t ever look to see who I’m standing against… and get nervous… Because I know who I am, and I know what I bring. I do not care who it is that stands across the ring from me, or how many there are… One, two, three, four…” Tara scoffed, “You can throw the whole locker room at me, and the only thing you are going to see when the dust settles is me… standing tall, in the center of the ring.”

She stood with her arms held out for several seconds, as if basking in the glory after being victorious in the ring. So many times, for so many years, she has had this stance. She brought her arms down but held her palms up.

“The ring becomes mine. Something I know--” she raises her hand back up and tilts her head back and forth a few times while looking at the back of her hand, “--like the back of my hand. I know everything about it. I know every inch of it. A blank canvas, for me to work my art. And make no mistake: what I create is art. At Relentless, I make my debut at XWF… and my art will earn me a shot at the Anarchy Championship. As much as I don’t fear any name that stands against me, it would be foolish to march in without knowing who stands against you. Bianca McBride, and Elijah Martin.” Tara spoke the words aloud; there was a sting in her voice just from muttering the names.

“Bianca McBride…” Tara snickers, “I’ve seen you a few times, Bianca. I know you from Project: Honor. I remember that we both competed at OCW’s Margarita Mix. This was before I signed with the XWF, so there was a mutual respect between us… When we passed each other in the halls of Project: Honor, a nod. A courtesy. Because we were representing our brand, and I truly, wholeheartedly believe that we could be friends outside of the ring.” She said with a hand over her heart, “But right now…” she shrugs, “You’re just in my way. And--” Tara raised a finger, “--there’s a key difference between us. You think you were born for this because your family has done it. I’ve been doing this while you were still wetting the bed. I didn’t have a history-- I created my history. I created my legacy.”

Tara thought about her next opponent, and scoffed. “Then we have… Elijah Martin. One word comes to my mind about you: unprofessional. Your first match in XWF, and you attack your own partner. That’s shameful. That’s disrespectful. To your partner-- to your opponents-- to the fans. This is your chance, right? This is your chance to shine? I’m sorry, darling, but tough break, kid. I will teach you something about respecting the game. The Age of the Phoenix has arrived at XWF.”

END.

]]>

END.

]]> <![CDATA[Lifeblood]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41903 Sat, 18 Sep 2021 19:26:21 -0700 Mr. Oz]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41903 [/bWo]

~ During the time Oswald was talking to Phantom Panzer ~

The interdimensional camera began to record as it floated through a large cathedral, following the sounds of chanting, of people saying... something. Kat, phitus. Closer and closer the camera got, the louder the words were said, but the second the camera got there, darkness began to spill out into the room, filled with that otherworldly smoke looking ink cloud and out of that cloud, was Oswald's godly form, but it also looked... different. As if Oswald wasn't in the shell. As if it had taken on a form of its own without using the musculature of Oswald, making it look somewhat thinner, but still imposing.

"Why do you summon me?"

One of the hooded men stepped out and spoke out

"Because, my Lord, we seek your freedom from the bondage of your mortal shell. We want to separate you two. Bring you into this world without needing Oswald. Keeping your strength."

The God looked at the cloaked people around it, listening to the man's words, thinking over what he was saying as another stepped up,

"If there is any way, my Lord, please, we would willingly give ourselves to you to bring forth a shell of your own design, rather than leeching onto someone not tailored made for you."

The God looked at this robed creature, pulling the hood off the robe, revealing that the person was none other than Oswald's own wife, Alysia!

"Why would you do this behind your betrothed's back? What do you hope to gain, Alysia?"

She sighed, placing a hand over her abdomen

"Because of you, I was given what I wanted, needed, for my health. For my mental health. So I could look at the mirror and see myself as complete. Your powers allowed Oswald to make me feel whole. Without you, I wouldn't be able to carry a child. Without you, Fuzen would still be our adopted daughter, but your powers made her into our own flesh and blood. As if we had her together.

I love my husband, my daughter, but you are why this is all this happened. You helped me become whole.

Let me help you do the same."

The Deity smiled, seeing his plan begin, starting on its way to being a snowball that will ultimately end all life in the universe. It nodded Alysia, placing its left hand over where her womb is, as energy flowed into her. The camera phased through her body, showing muscle, fat, blood vessels, and soon it entered her, it revealed that the darkness is creeping into her flesh and penetrating deep into her. It looks at Alysia, still having that creepy smile on its face

"Seems like Oswald had created life within you already."

It chuckled deeply as she gasped in surprise and the camera revealed the very tiny embryo.

"Let's change that."

Soon the small thing within her womb was penetrated by the tendrils of darkness, emplacing its own genetic coding into the growing child. Soon, the darkness receeded and the God looked towards the heavens,

"Oswald is waking up."

It grabbed Alysia and teleported her back to her home, in bed with Oswald, as she tore the cloak off under the blankets, facing away from Oswald, as tears slowly flowed down her face, knowing that she willingly sacrificed her actual first born to a God that was hellbent on destroying everything.

Her days were numbered, as was all life. Her tears were a mix of happiness and sadness. Happy because she got to live her truth. Sad, since she had placed a time limit on herself and the rest of life in the multi-verses.

The end of all life was going to come from bringing one forth.

~ During the time Oswald was talking to Phantom Panzer ~

"Why do you summon me?"

"Why would you do this behind your betrothed's back? What do you hope to gain, Alysia?"

"Seems like Oswald had created life within you already."

It chuckled deeply as she gasped in surprise and the camera revealed the very tiny embryo.

"Let's change that."

"Oswald is waking up."

"Latina Submission Machina. Another day, another belt, huh?

You are following in my footsteps. In the footsteps of Them No Good Bastards. Becoming quite the belt collector.

You will NEVER hold this belt while it sits around my fucking waist. Your collection stops at the BDC. You won't be so lucky when you challenge for my Anarchy title. It is mine, and it shall REMAIN mine.

When I told the XWF on that night that the era of the God Champion is here, I wasn't fucking joking. Anarchy is going to be under my reign for as long as I goddamn breathe! I will hold onto this belt for two goddamn years if I wanted.

This. Is. My. Title."

He sneers as he yells with a bit of growl coming with the following words

"I worked too fucking hard for this! I have bled and sweat for this damn title! I was willing to DESTROY even Fury! Imagine what I will do to you!

So long as I am the fucking champion, I will constantly bring in the ratings. I will constantly give the world what they want: a fighting champion who DOMINATES his opponents.

This match? It's going to show that you are nothing more than a flash in the pan. You are that burst of hot oil when cold water drips into it. It hurts because of how unexpected the pop is, but once the surprise factor is gone, all that's left is a tiny burn that fades in seconds.

All you are meant to be, is just another footnote under my title reign.

It started with Centurion, and this reign isn't stopping with you.

After what I've seen of your reign thus far with the BDC, I won't even call it by its full name anymore. You have made it WORTHLESS! At Relentless, you will see brutality on a level from me, that you've never seen before. I will not allow you to devalue the Anarchy championship too.

You will plead for death.

You will beg for mercy.

You will find none.

I want to DELETE you, for ever THINKING you were good enough to beat me for this belt.

You were born, just to lose to me."]]> <![CDATA[Hey Freddy...]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41900 Sat, 18 Sep 2021 06:44:05 -0700 Billy B. Blankenship]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41900 ” Hello again to all my Cult of Blankenship followers listening to another episode of Billy’s Drive-Thru on the interwebs. I got a bone to pick with Xtreme Wrestling Federation as we are heading into the biggest weekend of the year for the company; yes, I am talking about Relentless taking place in Chicago, Illinois. My bone has nothing to do with the three days event themselves but more so to do with having to waste my time dealing with this stupid Freddy Fabulous twat that hangs around like a case of crabs caught on a Las Vegas weekend.

Cult followers, when will this jizz stain just leave me the hell alone?

Ever since I brought the Can-Jap Connection into the land of garbage wrestling this prick shows up and has gotten a man-crush on me! I mean seriously this fucker is everywhere I turn all because he is deluded enough to think that Mustang, Steel, and whoever the fuck runs around with him are some sort of major players within not only Professional Wrestling but the XWF as well. Well, I don’t give a french-fried titty fuck what you think, Freddy, because I am here to inject a little truth into your veins. Here comes this little cunt weeks after my boys beat the piss out of him to attack me like he is important? Not only does he attack me he challenges me to this Tuxedo Match that you’re all going to be blessed with on Night One of Relentless; now let’s call a spade a spade here, who the fuck wants to see me in a goddamn wrestling ring? NO-FUCKING-BODY!

Why are we wasting Pay-Per-View time when it should go to the boys in the locker room that do this for a goddamn living? Is this your way of trying to establish that you have a pair of balls between your legs instead of the cooter that’s actually there? If you were any kind of man you wouldn’t go on national television making EXCUSES for two other grown men that got the shit kicked out of them two freaking months ago! This isn’t anything more than a waste of damn time much like Night Two when my boys are going to rinse and repeat what they did to them at War Games.

Where is the competition in the land of Xtreme?

How many more of these no-name pricks do we have to mow over to get into contention for what we’ve come to this shithole for… The XWF World Tag Team Championship!

Cult followers I am going to apologize in advance for the display that you are going to see come September 24th live on Pay-Per-View at Soldier Field in Chicago because one way or the other you’re going to see a lot of fat and blubber as we step into that time machine and head back to the nineteen-eighties because that’s where this match concept died! But Freddy Fabulous seems to think that THIS is what you want to see; fine, I’ll play ball because the means justify the ends. I granted your request so you would grant mine by putting your rejects back in the ring so that we can kick the shit out of all of you throughout a weekend which will allow us to move the fuck on while you fall back into the shadows in which you have come.

Freddy, the only fan you’ve got is your dad, and that’s because he’s so drunk all the time he can’t remember who the fuck you are, kid!

Unfortunately, I am going to lower myself to your standards and rip off that Tuxedo and expose your fat ass for the nothing happening piece of shit you are. The best thing about this entire waste of my time doesn’t rest with smacking this turd-puppet around with my tennis racket, it comes when I rip that stupid tuxedo off his body and then move on to Night Two where the Can-Jap Connection; a true TAG TEAM that doesn’t bitch or moan when things don’t go their way, doesn’t create a bunch of drama like a couple of primadonnas, shows up on Saturday Night to put the final nail in the coffin of garbage wrestlings runner up to them no good bastards. Freddy, the next time you want a piece of me be a man about it and fight me because this throwback shit is better suited for OCW.

Speaking of OCW- has anyone else been paying attention to the shit-show they got running over there? I didn’t think it was physically possible for another company to have less going on when it comes to Tag Team Wrestling until I was introduced to this catastrophe that calls itself a wrestling promotion. Oh god. Somebody give me a gun so I can shoot myself in the head as another cross-promotional war seems to be brewing. Yeah, that’s original. Hey Freddy, pack up your act and take your ass over there, it might have a better shot at getting over you fat fuck! That’s all the time I have today, as always…

Thank You.

Fuck You.

Bye.

]]> ” Hello again to all my Cult of Blankenship followers listening to another episode of Billy’s Drive-Thru on the interwebs. I got a bone to pick with Xtreme Wrestling Federation as we are heading into the biggest weekend of the year for the company; yes, I am talking about Relentless taking place in Chicago, Illinois. My bone has nothing to do with the three days event themselves but more so to do with having to waste my time dealing with this stupid Freddy Fabulous twat that hangs around like a case of crabs caught on a Las Vegas weekend.

Cult followers, when will this jizz stain just leave me the hell alone?

Ever since I brought the Can-Jap Connection into the land of garbage wrestling this prick shows up and has gotten a man-crush on me! I mean seriously this fucker is everywhere I turn all because he is deluded enough to think that Mustang, Steel, and whoever the fuck runs around with him are some sort of major players within not only Professional Wrestling but the XWF as well. Well, I don’t give a french-fried titty fuck what you think, Freddy, because I am here to inject a little truth into your veins. Here comes this little cunt weeks after my boys beat the piss out of him to attack me like he is important? Not only does he attack me he challenges me to this Tuxedo Match that you’re all going to be blessed with on Night One of Relentless; now let’s call a spade a spade here, who the fuck wants to see me in a goddamn wrestling ring? NO-FUCKING-BODY!

Why are we wasting Pay-Per-View time when it should go to the boys in the locker room that do this for a goddamn living? Is this your way of trying to establish that you have a pair of balls between your legs instead of the cooter that’s actually there? If you were any kind of man you wouldn’t go on national television making EXCUSES for two other grown men that got the shit kicked out of them two freaking months ago! This isn’t anything more than a waste of damn time much like Night Two when my boys are going to rinse and repeat what they did to them at War Games.

Where is the competition in the land of Xtreme?

How many more of these no-name pricks do we have to mow over to get into contention for what we’ve come to this shithole for… The XWF World Tag Team Championship!

Cult followers I am going to apologize in advance for the display that you are going to see come September 24th live on Pay-Per-View at Soldier Field in Chicago because one way or the other you’re going to see a lot of fat and blubber as we step into that time machine and head back to the nineteen-eighties because that’s where this match concept died! But Freddy Fabulous seems to think that THIS is what you want to see; fine, I’ll play ball because the means justify the ends. I granted your request so you would grant mine by putting your rejects back in the ring so that we can kick the shit out of all of you throughout a weekend which will allow us to move the fuck on while you fall back into the shadows in which you have come.

Freddy, the only fan you’ve got is your dad, and that’s because he’s so drunk all the time he can’t remember who the fuck you are, kid!

Unfortunately, I am going to lower myself to your standards and rip off that Tuxedo and expose your fat ass for the nothing happening piece of shit you are. The best thing about this entire waste of my time doesn’t rest with smacking this turd-puppet around with my tennis racket, it comes when I rip that stupid tuxedo off his body and then move on to Night Two where the Can-Jap Connection; a true TAG TEAM that doesn’t bitch or moan when things don’t go their way, doesn’t create a bunch of drama like a couple of primadonnas, shows up on Saturday Night to put the final nail in the coffin of garbage wrestlings runner up to them no good bastards. Freddy, the next time you want a piece of me be a man about it and fight me because this throwback shit is better suited for OCW.

Speaking of OCW- has anyone else been paying attention to the shit-show they got running over there? I didn’t think it was physically possible for another company to have less going on when it comes to Tag Team Wrestling until I was introduced to this catastrophe that calls itself a wrestling promotion. Oh god. Somebody give me a gun so I can shoot myself in the head as another cross-promotional war seems to be brewing. Yeah, that’s original. Hey Freddy, pack up your act and take your ass over there, it might have a better shot at getting over you fat fuck! That’s all the time I have today, as always…

Thank You.

Fuck You.

Bye.

]]> <![CDATA[Death In The Family...]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41887 Fri, 17 Sep 2021 08:32:06 -0700 Robert "The Omega" Main]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41887 OOC- This is for anyone who has lost their Dad…

R.I.P. Dad

In his life, Robert “The Omega” Main has always been caged and enraged, gauged, and found wanting more. Assuaged and found needing… Enraged and found terrifying… “The Omega” can walk anywhere he pleases and had done so for years. A walking war chest, a jacked-up, tricked out vehicle built for violence… He’s never wavered. Until now, this dreadful, God-forsaken moment in time, Robert has found himself at a crossroads, not only in his personal life but his career as well. The question is can he stay on the right path in this defining moment? With everything going on around him can he focus on the task at hand and finally slay the dragon once and for all. Nothing has ever been able to stop Robert, once he has made his mind up… Always green with envy, Robert is trying diligently to make up for all the things that he tore down while allied with the crooked snake know as Chris Page. Over the last several months, things haven’t gone according to plan for “The Omega” APEX or Legacy. As a matter of fact, things have been an utter train wreck since Robert’s return… Now with his father’s untimely death on his mind, “The Omega” finds himself in an unfamiliar place…

LOST…

CONFUSED…

DISCOURAGED…

BROKEN-HEARTED…

Throughout his decorated career nothing has ever been able to stop “The Omega” except a baseball bat wielded by a coward from behind. Not able to think or eat, not able to blink his eyes, not able to even breathe under his own power. A single baseball bat shot changed the course of history forever… Not only for Robert but for those involved as well. For months Robert, laid in a hospital bed clinging to life, names became scrambled, time slippery… From time to time, he didn’t even know who he was or what he was looking at. Robert, only knew, none of it felt natural… The only thing that he now understood was the searing pain radiating throughout what used to be his head… His body has become one gigantic wound, a million scars he carried around inside him… Some things “The Omega” just couldn’t remember, the things that he did might’ve never happened at all… That’s the problem with a traumatic head injury, even when Robert believed he’s found his way back to clarity, things always seem to go haywire again… It’s like time itself has become broken, with the way that the past comes flooding in and haunts him. History has its own strange life and power… Cataclysm is proof of that…

HALLOW…

DESOLATE…

MISERABLE…

DEPRESSED…

Since the second he returned to the XWF with APEX- Legacy at his side he has paid a heavy toll… All in a checkered war that never needed to happen, one side wants control, the other seeks revenge. And neither side is willing to compromise, there isn’t going to be a cease-fire until one side or the other is gone for good. Robert has always been a conduit of unstoppable power until recently. This moment in time, this wretched timeline, like a nightmare he cannot wake from… His mind fragmented, his body is broken, Robert has lost his smile, and some would say, his will to carry on. He has been manipulated, capitulated and always a pawn, just never the player. Robert “The Omega” Main will never be taken advantage of again… A force of overwhelming power, nothing will stop Robert from his ultimate goal, except himself. An icon will fall, a legend will perish into the hallow void… The question is which one will it be. He is done allowing others to pick up the pieces of the things that he and his choices have destroyed over the past year and a half… Now with his back against the wall, his livelihood on the line, Robert Main is going to lay it all on the line… This is the point of no return and if he must perish in an XWF ring, he’ll do just that…

MISFORTUNE…

HARDSHIP…

CRUSHED…

INDIGNATION…

It’s untroublesome to fracture a person given the correct circumstances, one moment can change a person’s trajectory forever, yet it takes so very long to restore who they were before tragedy struck. The one that fragmented Robert Main wasn’t “Chronic” Chris Page or B.o.B, no matter how hard they pushed their propaganda… A handful of mid-card floaters would never tarnish who Robert was, nor would a baseball bat to the head by a puppet on a string… Those things are elementary compared to losing his father in a catastrophic accident. This nanosecond in time sent him into a tailspin spiraling out of control. Robert was damaged beyond repair, shattered into a million pieces and ground into the Earth… Everything around him seemed reconditioned, or so that is what his grieving eyes were seeing. The atoms of one thing becoming those of another. The energy from one place becomes energy in another. Robert, had visualizations of where his father was, what God had asked him to become next, all Robert knew deep down was he was looking forward to being with his Pop again… He could feel his father’s warm embrace from time to time like he was there saying it would be okay. So, call it reincarnation or recycling, Robert’s okay with whatever. He knows his father is still out there somewhere, and that's what mattered to him…

DEATH…

PASSING…

HEAVEN…

HELL…

A muffled voice echoes but Robert doesn’t respond… He continues leering at the floor and his dress shoes he had never worn before… He then ran his fingers tips over the charcoal suit that laid over his skin as a coffin as if his inner child self was being buried alive while he wore it.

” Robert…”

Robert remained motionless and continued staring, lost someplace in his mind, Drew looked to Jim for assistance in the situation, Jim reached out gently placing his hand on Robert’s shoulder. When Jim spoke, his deep voice was magnetic to the core of who Robert was.

” Bob, listen, brother, I know you are struggling, but they are going to close the casket soon, you need to be in there with Kayla and your Mom and Oliver when it happens… I know this is a dreadful situation, but we are all here and have your back.”

Robert lifted his head as the sadness drained from his weary eyes. He wept as if his brain was being shredded from the inside out. Emotional torture flowed out of every pore. From his mouth came a howl so raw that even the eyes of the strangers around them were suddenly wet with tears. Robert reached out clinging onto a chair so his ferocious shaking would not cause him to fall to the floor… From his eyes came an even thicker stream of tears than he had cried earlier. We all expect to bury our parents one day, but not like this. So unfortunate, so sudden, so heart-wrenching… The whole world had vanished right before Robert’s eyes, now there was only the agony of a broken heart, enough to fracture him in a way he had never felt before. There was a substantial amount of anguish to change him beyond recognition. It takes backbone to exit the catatonic state, to reengage with the world and pray that you heal as you fight onward for better days. In these profound moments of strife, the real needs of those you love to keep coming and you must keep on rising to meet them. Robert looked at Jim in his brilliant electric blue eyes and saw a lifetime of struggle that had never been put into words… He saw humanity and the person Jim was behind the curtain. There were times it all gets lost, especially when he put on his ring gear, becoming the man the fans paid to see…

” Bob, I honestly cannot imagine what you are going through right now, I know you feel like you have a dozen arrows through the heart and a battle axe sticking in your chest… All you can do is let it out let it out or it'll poison you… We are all here for you and your family.”

Drew wiped away a few teas as the stunning and always beautiful Betsey hugged Robert as tightly as she could… In her embrace, the world stopped still on its axis. There was no time, no wind, no rain. Robert’s mind was at peace. Betsy wiped Robert’s eyes placing her palm on his cheek.

“We’re here for you Robert… Don’t you forget that we love you.”

Betsey releases Robert as Raven leans in giving Robert a bro hug…

“Big guy I don’t do hugs.”

Shawn replied extending his hand as the two embraces.

Robert makes brief eye contact with each member of APEX and Legacy before leading the way to his father’s casket where they will each say their final goodbyes… Raven makes his way to Robert’s Mom who falls into Raven’s chest sobbing, Drew embraces the love of his life Kayla gripping her as tightly as he can, Jim then makes his way to Oliver placing one arm around his back as they each lower their heads. Shawn stands to Robert’s left and Betsy to Robert’s right. Robert lowers his head as Betsy grabs Robert’s hand letting Robert know she was there… This was that dreaded moment in time Robert had hoped would never come… Robert always thought about what it would be like to lose a parent, then when the time came, he realized it was nothing like he had cooked up in his mind. It was a trillion times worse. He swallowed hard looking on at the moment in time he always thought would never come… But it did and did so with a vengeance… Heroes though… They don't dread, they just buckle themselves in and brace for impact.

Amazing Grace!
Oh, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost
Oh, but now, now I'm found
Was blind, oh, but now I see

When we've been there
Ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun
We've no less days
To sing God's praise
Than when, when we've first begun

Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come
'Tis Grace has brought me safe thus far
And Grace will lead me home

Amazing Grace!
Oh, how sweet the sound (how sweet the sound)
That saved a wretch like me (like me)
Oh, I once was lost
Oh, but now, now I'm found
Was blind, oh, but now I see
Was blind but now I see

Robert’s Mom sobbed as if the ferocity of it might bring her husband of over 40 years back as if by the sheer force of her sorrow the news would be undone. He was her husband, a father, grandfather, brother and so much more. Raven tried to hold her back, to calm her, even as his own tears fell thick and heavy but in her hysteria, she was too strong, too wild. After whirling about, unable to look through her puffy eyes at the black and silver casket, she tumbled out of the side door towards the hearse. Robert watched her go, dissolved in the kind of despair that can take one's mind prisoner and never give it back. Once in the open, she sank to her knees next to her husband’s final ride… Raven followed lifting her from the ground hugging her. The grief magnified with every breath she expelled, always reaching higher peaks, never sufficiently soothed by her long intakes of the humid summer air. At that moment the knowledge that life would go on without him, that time was only stopped for her, undid her completely. She clasped their final photograph together on the beach only months ago, he was smiling, and why shouldn't he? She then cast her eyes to God, she needed his love now more than ever, as Raven held her closely

" God why? Why did you have to take him from me? Oh God, please take care of my husband."

There is no such thing as a beautiful body when death when the reaper has claimed the soul. There is no affectionate corpse. Death is just that, death. The flesh breakdowns, the bones to follow, the hair matting into the casket. When the soul has departed, what is a body? When the compassion leaves the blood and the limbs become stiff, it is a ghoulish thing. Everything science can measure is still there, yet nothing is the same. The soul had been recalled to our maker and what is left is simply bones and flesh… Robert, never wanted to see his father in death, he just wanted to recall his vibrant smile, but everyone around him said it was part of letting go. Robert, Oliver and Kayla make their way to the casket each staring at what used to be their Dad, now only an empty vessel each sibling looked at one another then and began sobbing… It was more than crying, it was the kind of uninhabited sobbing that comes from a person drained of all hope... The pain that flowed through them was as palpable as the frigid fall wind. The howling takes complete control of Robert’s brain and miss-wires all the synapses. Somehow, he can no longer think and if he tried to force it the result was nothing more than scrambled logic. Robert makes eye contact with the funeral director one last time giving him the nod. His voice cracks as he leans in towards his father for the final time in his young life. All the childhood memories, come rushing in, vacations, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, Birthdays… Good and bad times, Dad was always there… Now nothing will ever be the same again. No calls for advice, no stopping in to say hello, even his voice has begun to fade over the past few weeks… Robert’s brain has little concept of time, and so the discomforting memory is experienced as a current event. Therefore, once we have come to terms with them and gained new perspectives on what happened, it is important to move on and recall the happy times instead. This way you deal with them, disarm them, and choose real health for yourself. This way you love yourself and set yourself free from the cage known as death.

” Dad, I’m so sorry this happened to you, please watch over us, keep us strong, we need you now more than ever…”

Robert gently laid his hand on his father’s casket and said goodbye.

” I love you Dad…”

He gave his father one last look before lowering his head and wiping away his tears…

” Goodbye Pop!”

The Final Resting Place…

Robert cast his eyes to the freshly dug soil and thought to himself, Dad was about to go down there forever; darkness until the end of time… He has questioned many times just why God had taken him. What the hell did he need him for? The priest said he “Called him home” with a dopey look on his pompous little face. Robert imagined his features rearranged by the business end of a shovel as he clenched his fist. His Dad already had a God damn home and damn God for taking him. When he got to heaven, Robert imagined his Dad was kicking the almighty’s ghostly ass all around the God damn place and burning the pearly gates down to their foundation. What was left now? Home with Mom? Mom, who didn't even know how to break a smile or utter a kind word, Mom, who now found fault in every God damn little thing going on around her… As they began to lower the casket into the cold Earth Robert pondered to himself about death… Was it a gateway to rebirth? Our beloved passes through, we both mourn and celebrate. We feel their loss in our life and community, yet we celebrate all that they achieved in their lifetime for goodness, for love, for the natural world, for humanity. It is a time when we are most aware of how sacred living is and appreciate the gift more. Mourn not the passing of a life well lived yet celebrate. Count the times your souls smiled together, reached out so invisibly yet tangibly, and touched. Death is only the end of a chapter. As the casket lowered into the ground Robert walked towards the tree line off in the distance as Drew and Jim followed several feet behind Robert.

” Jim, it’s all so surreal, Dewey was like my own Dad, he was there for me when my own wasn’t. Hell, I even called him Dad from time to time, I’m trying to stay strong for Robert and Kayla, but I’m completely devastated… The crazy part of the entire thing is I was with him just a few days ago. We were together, at Robert’s house… I asked Dewey if I could marry Kayla…”

Drew sighed…

” No shit?

Drew nodded…

” Yeah… He gave me his blessing…”

” That’s amazing my man, now we get to plan a wedding… Congratulations Drew. You deserve to be happy… Speaking of the bride to be how is she holding up?”

” She’s torn up like Robert, oh and Kayla don’t know anything to keep your lips sealed Jim.”

Jim motions himself zipping his mouth shut.

” You got it… I’m on lockdown…”

” How’s Oliver?”

” He’s a quite cat, but a good kid, he’s trying to wrap his mind around all of this just like the rest of us…”

” Good… I just don’t know when or how to ask Kayla now… Dewey was supposed to be there to walk her down the aisle to me. Now that will be Robert’s responsibility…”

” I know brother, this is tough for all of us, Dewey was a shining part of all our lives in so many ways. That Christmas where Dewey and I cut down that Christmas tree for the family keeps playing on a loop in my mind… The snow falling at the cabin, I wish I could go back to that moment and take all of you with me… I also remember you wearing nothing but an apron baking cookies, with Kayla and Robert’s Mom… You bent over to put them in the oven and I saw your ass hole…”

Jim smiles slapping Drew on the back…

” Jim, that is the only way to bake, in the nude, you should try it sometime…”

Robert took one hand and leaned against the ancient oak, his fingertips gripping into the crevices that ran through the bark. His eyes came to rest on the pattern, chaotic like the cracks in the parched summer Earth. Under his dress shoes were the golden leaves that were just beginning to fall. As he moved his foot they were just as noisy as the static that filled his head. Nothing was making sense anymore, not even trees. His life had had direction and meaning, all his work had been for his family and their life together, their future. Now, a gigantic part of that was gone. So, there was no reason for the world to exist anymore. Why was it all still here? He willed the world to dissolve around him, just to melt away, yet he could still feel the unforgiving bark and the gentle breeze that refused to reflect the howling pain that tore through his body. Without warning, he felt his insides become wooden and he turned to Jim and Drew with a face like a mannequin….

” Rob, I know this is a dumb thing to ask right now… But how are you doing? Are you okay?”

Robert stares off in the distance as Jim hands Robert a fifth of Wild Turkey…

” Jim, do you think this is an appropriate time? He’s dealing with a whole lot… If it were chocolate almond milk, I’d give the go-ahead, but Wild Turkey won’t make things better…”

Jim nods…

” I do, he needs to take the edge off… A little drink never hurt anyone. Oh, and by the way, no one drinks that stuff… It’s gross Drew… If ass hole had a taste, it would be that stuff…”

Drew points at Jim.

” That’s blasphemy…”

Without hesitation Robert tips the bottle skyward and begins chugging… The whisky turns down the volume on Robert’s jumbled thoughts. It brings memories of good times past, and for a moment he allows himself to dwell in them rather than think. And at that moment, he was here and not, existing in two moments. Somehow it steadies Robert, giving him the resolve to move on. There was reassurance before. Just a tiny flicker against the wind. With the open eyes of a child, Robert reached out, fingers extended. In that moment he had two choices compassion or cruelty; it took no time at all for him to decide. He saw that dying ember and brought the winds to a cold howl… Robert sits in the pit that has become his world; the only decorations were his nail marks on the walls he cannot scale. Though he believes there is light at the top it feels a million miles away. Every time Robert reaches out with love to someone up there, someone he hopes can throw a rope, the Earth sinks a little lower, jolting his body as it stops… Smothering him with new pain, another abandonment. Robert has allowed his eyes to become accustomed to the darkness he has dwelled…

” A drink huh Jim? Great thinking…”

” I said a drink not half a bottle… Jeeze!”

Drew shakes his head.

” Robert, we need to get you guys home. You need to relax, and honestly drinking an entire bottle of Wild Turkey won’t help things…”

Robert leers at Drew like the fire in his eyes has been dowsed with a five-gallon bucket of ice water.

” Listen, guys… I'm not used to feeling this way, I’m discouraged, demoralized and a bit discomposed. Hell, right now I don’t even know who I am. Without my Dad, I’m just lost… All I want to do now is just crawl back inside my invisible shell and waste away into nothing, but I can’t…”

Robert sighs as he takes another drink moving his eyes more slowly like they are heavy.

” Robert… Drew, is right, we need to get you guys home. You need to eat and sleep…”

Robert leered at Jim but could not speak. He took another drink, now nearly finished with the bottle he felt he was standing on the brink of something he couldn't describe. The weight of everything seemed to press down on his shoulders as he struggled to take a single step forward. It was too much. All of it. And somehow, he kept moving. But every step cost him. The darkness grew darker; the pain grew sharper; all of it seemed to only grow in strength and he began to wonder if things could ever get better. If someone ever notices that sad, broken look in his eyes that he sees in the mirror every morning. They see beauty where he can only see ugliness.

” Robert you’ve got to hang on here man, easier said than done I know. But you’ve got to…”

Jim reached his hand out towards Robert who didn’t move a muscle until Jim got almost close enough to touch him… Robert suddenly swatted Jim away clenching the bottled as Drew reached for his hand…

” Bob, give me the bottle, you don’t need to do this to yourself… Getting hammered is going to send you into a dark place. Come on Rob, hand me the bottle…”

Robert snarled before throwing the bottle of Wild Turkey at the tree, shattering it into a million pieces…

” There’s the fucking bottle…”

” Bob-O, we only have the best of intentions man… Calm down…”

” Calm down? Are you being serious right now? I just put my Dad in the fucking ground, do you know how many times I’ve called his fucking cell phone knowing he is gone? I let it go to voice mail just so I can hear his voice. Then I leave him a message, knowing damn good and well he is never going to respond… How morbid is that?”

Drew and Jim remain silent while Robert erupts s…

” Tell me what would you like me to hang onto Jim? Seriously? Hang on to what? What the hell do I have to hang on to? Jim, I used to be strong, okay. I don’t feel like me right now, and I think I need help. I have had everything taken away from me over the last year or so… Would you like me to hang on to my Wargames record? GONE! How about getting screwed out of the Universal Championship? GONE! Or would you like me to hold on to my dead Dad that we just put in the ground? ALL FUCKING GONE! You tell me what’s left for me?”

Drew interjects…

Bob, you just need to take some time off and get your head on right. Things will get better over time. This isn’t going to get better overnight; these things take time… I can let Vinny know you need time off… And we can go from there…”

Robert utters one word…

” No…”

A concerned look falls over Jim and Drew’s faces…

” What do you mean no? You are not ready to go out there and compete…”

” Just what I said… No… I’ve got business to attended, Relentless I end this, or I die trying…”

” Robert are you sure this is the right time? Tell us what ya need? Anything, man, and we will take care of it… I’ll take your place in the match with Page and splatter him like an egg… No questions asked. I’ll do anything for you Robert you know that. But jumping back into things could get you injured? That is something you don’t need right now trying to take care of your family…”

” Jimmy, I apricate that more than you’ll ever know, but this is something I’ve got to do on my own and I’ve got to do it now. After everything that we have gone through over the past few weeks. You say keep hanging on, but I don’t know if I want to anymore… I just know this match has to happen…”

Drew steps in the fold growing more nervous by the second…

” Robert, what are you saying right now? This isn’t my friend talking… You are not in the right state of mind… I refuse to let you go into a match where your career is on the line, not under these circumstances. You are in no shape to have this match, Robert… The end doesn’t justify the means… You can’t do this. Page will have an advantage on you going in, he’s going to know you are not right…”

Jim nods along in agreement.

” I agree with Drewski here bro, this isn’t the time or the place. The odds are stacked against you, with everything going on Robert, one mistake could end your career… Listen, I want Page gone just as bad as you do, but you cannot risk this. The price is just too high…”

” I understand what I’m signing up for guys, I know the price and it's one that I’m willing to pay.”

For the first time, Drew shouts at Robert in frustration.

” I’M NOT LETTING YOU DO THIS! NO!”

” Drew, brother you don’t have a choice in the matter. My mind is already made up…There have been some heavy blows over the past few weeks and it’s not easy for me. It’s a long fall from the top and brother I’m feeling it. I'm running out of places where the bruises and the scars hide. Honestly, I'm angry and exhausted. I’m being tortured by my feelings, my thoughts, I’m running out of options, and I don’t want sympathy, I’ve never been in this game for glory. All I want to do is tell my story and people after me remember it. I’m going to Relentless to face Chris Page in a career - vs - career match, three stages of hell… This is the final chapter of Chris Page and Robert Main… And there isn’t anything that either one of you can do to stop me…”

Jim hesitates placing his callused hands on his hips…

” Okay, brother… You want to go in guns blazing? Then you have my blessing…”

” Robert, this can’t be it. Tell me this is a joke? A bad dream, something…”

Robert doesn’t respond.

” Robert, damn it, talk to me…”

” Drew, this is it, my friend. This is my last ride and after this match, if I should lose there isn’t going to be an encore, even if all those XWF fans scream and cheer. I’m going to hang up my boots, and I want everyone to see this clearly when I leave the XWF, I will not reappear. One final ride for everything, I’ve fought my entire career to obtain. This match is the line in the sand and whether I go down in a blaze of glory or get carried out on my shield this is it. If I’m defeated by Chris Page, I’ll never step foot in an XWF ring again.”

Drew looks to Jim who remains silent…

” Jim, you are good with this decision? This is our blood brother here, about to go out and risk everything…”

” I am… Maniac can do this. I know the price is high, but the moment isn’t too big for Robert.”

” Robert, you do know you’ve never won a match at Relentless, right?”

Robert chuckles and then cracks a small smile.

” Oh, I’m well aware…”

Drew shakes his head looking off in the distance…

” Fine…”

Robert’s smile widens…

” Gentlemen, it’s been an honor and if this is it, I’d want it to end knowing APEX was at my side…”

Robert sticks his fist out looking to Drew and Jim who follows suit…

His voice echoed from the darkness that drenched the cemetery, the only visible light was from the relic of a church… The only thing that Robert could hear off in the distance was the grumbling organ and the angelic voices of the late-night choir… The stained glass casts shadows that fell on the grass below… He ran his fingers over the first headstone that were so delicately carved many years ago, but with time were slowly eroding. Robert stopped loosening his black tie and unbuttoned his shirt and couldn’t help but notice a faceless gargoyle staring down at him. He leered at the creatures chipped wings then off in the distance as he spoke…

” Let me ask you this intriguing question, how do you begin to climb a mountain? The first step isn’t the beginning, no… The beginning begins long before the mountain is even in sight… The foundation of this journey can be found in the early days of 2019… When resentment was born between the two of us. From that moment, it has lived in every step, every match, and every moment since its conception… It lives in the dedication to all the preparation, stretching the limits of the mind and body, so we can take one more step today than we did yesterday…”

Robert pauses releasing a massive sigh, then he generally tiptoed through the cemetery. He noticed all the dying flowers blooming as he walked by, most of the graves had a bouquet resting against them, others had been attacked by the sun and rain for decades leaving the headstones faded, cracked and covered with moss…

” One day I woke up in a hospital bed with a broken head and realized I'd been trained to seek gluttony, hate and suffering from the XWF. Chris Page corrupted my soul with darkness, tainted my mind with a cocktail of drugs creating a Monstrosity… I always was one to take my medicine, even if I didn’t know I was receiving it in lethal doses. I learned how to shine a light on what that demonic scum wanted hidden, his true intentions, but in doing so, I learned how to become a horrifying demon myself… Chris Page and I were hellions with halos. We had our code, a sort of modern-day knights-code with swords packing verbal bullets. People say that monsters are not real, that things don’t go bump in the night, that bloodthirsty vampires don’t roam the Earth, I am here to tell those people they are wrong… Real flesh and blood vampires like Chris Page are racialists. They bite and drain the lifeblood from anything that can move their agenda forward, rendering their prey weak and unable to defend themselves. This is the victory they seek, and this carries the emotionally indifferent stamp of the Devil himself… To say that Chris Page was immoral, would be the understatement of the year. He is a man who is cold and indifferent. The only joy he can feel is the torture of souls, yet a man like Page can only operate where there is shame, be it deserving or fictitious…”

Robert knelt on the dew-covered grass, clasping his hands together as tightly as he could… Within hours of burying his father, grass shards had begun to sprout over the top, as bits of soil were scattered over the gravesite… He opened his callused hands that were his pride and joy, they tell the tales of his time in the ring, the work he’s done to help others. They are the hands of a man who has tried to work for joy in the squared circle. In one instantaneous moment, everything running through Robert’s mind just seemed to melt away as his index finger traced the carved letters of his father’s gravestone…

” I’ve spent my entire life learning how to safely remove the daggers placed in my heart by those I’ve trusted, only to find that once that final stitch is beginning to heal. Another razor-sharp dagger has been implanted right between my shoulder blades. Why did this always seem to happen to me? Drew has always told me I have a soft place in my heart, that I’m always willing to give someone the benefit of the doubt… That I trust too easily, and root for the guy who is down on his luck… And once again my maniac friend was right, I should have listened to him, but instead, I didn’t take that advice, I turned my nose up in the air like a snob, I was a fool, a clown, and that’s why I’m in the position that I am in today… My body lost its strength a long time ago, my mind shattered and the rest of my feeble body followed in pursuit… It’s been said that I am a shell of the man I used to be. That I have had everything stolen from me including my smile… Once feared, now laughed at from afar… Everything that I have worked for over the last few years went up in smoke the moment I met Chris Page… To those who doubt me, you are correct, I’m not the same Robert Main that I used to be many years ago… Now all I have left in me is hate… Now all that is left inside this hallow shell is hatred, the word alone is such an abomination, a subversion of what good should have been… Without this resentment I'd die, there isn't any part of me that feels anything else. Without it, I'd be nothing, feel nothing at all… But I have distaste, my only companion on this boulevard of broken dreams and promises… This malice coursing through my veins is the only fuel that keeps my heart pumping and brain firing on all cylinders. Revenge is coming Chris Page. And it's coming real soon.”

Robert placed his back against the fridge headstone, adjusting himself until he was comfortable, he then sighed once more as he crossed his arms…

” Chris, none of this ever had to happen… But you just couldn’t stand playing second fiddle, could you?”

Robert briefly gazed up at the night sky, there was just a sliver of the moon being curtained by the grey clouds passing by. The sky itself was vast and covered in shiny freckles and smaller blemishes.

” Now one of us is destined to leave the world of professional wrestling forever…”

He laid his head back on the headstone and continued…

” I pray that for your sake that it was all worth it in the end… It took over twenty long years of backstabbing and federation hoping to finally wear the crown. And to think it took underhanded, fly by night bull shit to get you there… But that is the Chris Page way, don’t earn it, because if you had to earn it people like me would put you down. So, you lied, cheated, and stole your way to the title. If it weren’t for me Chris, carrying your ass to the pinnacle you’d still not have ever held that Championship. You’d be right where you’ve always belonged floating around the mid-card title scene… And that’s if you were lucky. You got to the top of the XWF mountain because of me, I held your hand and made you something you never were in the past. I made “Chronic” Chris Page relevant… You held that prestigious strap over your shoulder and got to call yourself Universal Champion because of me… Deserving or not, you have the right to be called Champion. You’ve always believed in that delusional mind that you were a household name, a main event caliber wrestler, Chris, you were forgotten a decade ago. No one knew who you were until you graced the ring with Robert Main… I just hope that after I demolish you for the final time, that they remember you for what you truly were… Not a maverick or trailblazer… Or an icon… No… What they will remember is the fraudulent imitation of Robert Main, that you tried to be. I hope all the scheming and bridge-burning was worth it when you were Universal Champion. I hope you had enough time to drag your tongue across the sugar cube and get a taste of what I did for nearly nine months. I get why you did what you did, you’re an outcast always living in the shadows of others, a man used to coming in last. Continually bringing up the past… Here’s the thing Chris, nobody owes you a God damn thing. After I’m through with you, that past you cherish living in will be the only thing that you have to cling too, because I’m taking your future away from you…”

Robert chuckled for the first time in a long time.

” Chris here’s the truth, all you are is a loose cannon who has fallen from the top, just look at where you are right now… Stuck in a match with me, the man time forgot about. Nobody cares what you are doing or where you are going, not even B.o.B and never have… I mean it. Take a good look around, homeboy you are on an island all by yourself with no one to toss you a life preserver. There is blood in the water, and you’ve got your head shoved too far up your ass to realize I’m about to take you out once and for all… You need to wise up real fast because I’m like swimming in quicksand, my friend. Unforgiving with no sense of humor… And after all this time you thought that you had the XWF on its knees? You were the one who started something that you can’t stop and my only wish, win or lose is that you finally pay for all those transgressions… You have taken everything that I have accomplished away from me… Now with nothing to lose, makes me the most dangerous opponent you’ve ever faced. No more kid gloves, no more bull shit it’s all or nothing. This time I’m going for the kill shot and I won’t miss the mark. You said on Warfare that you’ve been salivating over this moment for nearly two years. Tell me, Chris, why has it taken two years to reach your goal? I’ll tell you… It’s taken you two years Chris because you failed at Wargames when you came to destroy this company from the inside. Then again against me for the Universal Championship, hell, you couldn’t even get poising me right… TK couldn’t kill me, and you and B.o.B. couldn’t get the job done when the deck was stacked against me… You’ve had multiple shots at shooting “The Omega” out of the sky, and what happened? The same thing that has always happened in the grandest moments of your career… You underperform, in a disastrous attempt to prove a futile point.”

Robert points directly at Chris Page through the camera…

” That you are leaps and bounds better than Robert Main. That has been the entire premise of your time here in the XWF, to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are the superior wrestler, and time and time again you have been shamed right back into the shadows to plot another bankrupt run at me… I have humiliated you at every fucking turn… Yet you want the entire world to believe that you are going to suddenly steamroll me. I’m still here because you don’t have the prowess to defeat me clean in the middle of the ring. Nor the intestinal fortitude to stand up to me like a man and try to get the fucking job done all on your own... Chris Page you are and always will be an underachiever compared to me, a runner-up, second-best… When you came back to this company you were a deadbeat good for nothing has been… I brought you back to life in the biggest mistake of my life… And after I vanquish you at Relentless you will go back to being what you were before we met… A disappointment castaway past his prime… Only this time I leave “Chronic” Chris Page in shambles, without a job or career to go back to…”

Robert grins before giving Page the finger…

” I hope you can swim… Because night one of Relentless in a sixty-minute Iron Match I’m dragging you into deep waters and I’ll drown the cheap imitation known as “Chronic” Chris Page …”

[Image: tOJZl79.jpg]

]]> OOC- This is for anyone who has lost their Dad…

R.I.P. Dad

In his life, Robert “The Omega” Main has always been caged and enraged, gauged, and found wanting more. Assuaged and found needing… Enraged and found terrifying… “The Omega” can walk anywhere he pleases and had done so for years. A walking war chest, a jacked-up, tricked out vehicle built for violence… He’s never wavered. Until now, this dreadful, God-forsaken moment in time, Robert has found himself at a crossroads, not only in his personal life but his career as well. The question is can he stay on the right path in this defining moment? With everything going on around him can he focus on the task at hand and finally slay the dragon once and for all. Nothing has ever been able to stop Robert, once he has made his mind up… Always green with envy, Robert is trying diligently to make up for all the things that he tore down while allied with the crooked snake know as Chris Page. Over the last several months, things haven’t gone according to plan for “The Omega” APEX or Legacy. As a matter of fact, things have been an utter train wreck since Robert’s return… Now with his father’s untimely death on his mind, “The Omega” finds himself in an unfamiliar place…

LOST…

CONFUSED…

DISCOURAGED…

BROKEN-HEARTED…

HALLOW…

DESOLATE…

MISERABLE…

DEPRESSED…

The Final Resting Place…

]]> <![CDATA[All That Shimmers is Gold]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41883 Thu, 16 Sep 2021 18:48:41 -0700 HeavensToBetsy]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=41883 It was done; Betsy Granger had gone to Warfare and claimed her victory over Bobby Bourbon going into Relentless. The message to the Bastards was sent and their date was set in stone.

Presently, Betsy was guiding Excellence to the werewolf-filled commune where Lycana sat at the head of her clan. The idea of having to walk through the village again made her want to chew on glass, but it had to be done. Even an outsider like herself could sense tension among the clan, and Lycana inviting a stranger to their turf didn’t seem to be helping matters. Even still, the Dissentient had insisted on her arrival, seeming excited to get on her way to finding her kyber crystal. The Impossible Traveler still couldn’t quite believe Lycana’s enthusiasm for the tasks ahead of them; Betsy found them exhausting, though her desire to see them through still burned beneath the surface.

There’s a soft bump as Excellence lands; this time, she lands mercifully in front of Lycana’s cottage. Before she could take a step towards the doors, they fling open wide, and standing in the frame is the partner she’d come to collect.

“About time.” humor entwines itself with a hint of frustrated eagerness as Lycana lays eyes on Betsy. A smile tugs the corners of her ruby-stained lips upwards as she takes a half step back, one hand remaining on Excellence’s door. She had taken the other’s recommendations to heart; her body clad in a stretchy black catsuit that clung to her curves like a second skin. The material shimmers lightly as she moves, like the sun on the water. Leather combat boots bind her from her toes to calves to her knees. “I thought you would never get here.” She flicks a glance around the still village before her gaze returns to Betsy.

”My fault.” Betsy shoots Lycana an apologetic grin, unable to help herself from admiring the fashionable tactical wear. Betsy was in her black leather catsuit, thigh-high black tactical boots adding another inch or two to her height. The top was slightly unzipped, revealing a black half-top underneath. A sturdy utility belt hung from her hips, her dual-ended lightsaber hanging from its place along with several other gadgets. Attached to a thigh holster is the blaster she used as a last resort, though she detested the clumsy weapons. ”I didn’t think you’d be at the door, ready for me to land.

Lycana’s eyes glitter, as her mouth opens.

“She’s been watching out the window for you.” a voice interrupts drily, causing Lycana’s head to swing around, and Betsy to peer over her shoulder.

Marf leans in the doorway of the small cottage, arms crossed, bicep muscles bulging as he shakes his head slightly at his blue-haired vixen, who was crinkling her nose at him for letting the cat out of the bag. He straightens, strolling over to stand by the side of his fellow Dissentient. “You’d think she was eager to put her life on the line like supernatural problems don’t find her often enough.” He boops her on the nose with the last words, causing her eyebrows to come crashing down in a fearsome scowl. He grins at her, obviously terrified.

“You make me sound like a dog.” she pokes him in the chest, her tone mellow despite the expression on her face. “Wolf. Dog...” Marf simply shrugs his shoulders, skillfully avoiding a swat, moving to place the silver handle of Lycana’s lightsaber into the holster on the belt that was slung low around her hips. “You ran out so fast you forgot that.”

A sheepish look creeps across Lycana’s façade, as she peers up at him. “Thank you.” His arm snakes around her waist, tugging her closer for a quick hug before releasing her. “You’re welcome.” Lycana risks a glance at Betsy, seeing how she took the little scene being played out before her, a side not many saw of the duo. Marf follows the direction of her gaze, his eyes hardening and jaw firming as he sets sights on the Impossible Traveler. “Remember what I said.”

Betsy nods, her gaze never faltering under the intensity of Marf’s gaze. ”You have my word... I’ll give my own life to get her back here to you if it comes to that.”

“We’ll see about that,” Marf replies gruffly.

”I just hope it doesn’t come to that.” Betsy says lightly, hoping to ease the tension between them. His blank stare is all the answer she needed on that front. Clearing her throat, she turns back to Lycana. ”Shall we, then?" Turning away from the couple, she gives them a minute to say a proper “farewell for now” to one another without her watching.

A muffled exchange from behind Betsy, culminating in the soft tread of a foot stepping forward into the interior of Excellence. “I have everything here, just make sure you come back. Both of you. You have some Bastards to fuck up.” With that, the big man backs up, a gentle bob of his head at odds with the hardness of his eyes, screaming silently to the world that he would destroy anything that brought Lycana harm. The Dissentients stare at each other for a long second more, before Marf turns and disappears into the cottage, leaving the two women alone once more.

A light sigh escapes Lycana as she watches him go, before turning neatly on her heel, her soft demeanor transforming into one of enthusiasm for the task at hand.

“Where to first?” she inquires, tossing her long locks over her shoulder as she approaches to stand at Betsy’s side, her eyes wandering curiously over the control panel.

Betsy sweeps her green eyes towards Lycana, keeping them hidden underneath her lashes as she begins to type in coordinates. ”I thought we could go to Ilum first; the universe is full of kyber crystals waiting to be found, but Ilum is famous for storing them in its ice caves. I figured that would give us our best shot at finding your crystal fairly quickly; and if not, there’s a whole universe full of them.”

“I see,” Lycana replies softly, her blue gaze sweeping from the control panel to Betsy. “And where would we begin looking for this crystal if Ilum fails to provide?”

”Ah...” Her voice falters as she grins sheepishly at Lycana. ”That’s the trick; we could stumble over that thing anywhere. Ilum was just my first logical choice for the reason I chose, but the most important thing is to follow your feelings. When you’re near it, you’ll hear it begin to call to you. The closer you are, the louder it gets; by then, you’ll start to feel its power, too.” She smiles warmly at her new partner in crime, allowing Lycana’s excitement to infect her as well.

“Like a mind connection, I’m linked to it,” she speaks, more to herself than anything else, her face a study of fascination at the concept. “In reality, we could travel all over and not find anything? Is that a possibility?” dubiousness creeps, into her words, for just a moment, before she shakes her head. “No, no doubts. We will find it.” She watches with fascination as Betsy works the controls, her whole being like a child watching a magic show. “You know, I’ve done a lot of crazy things, but I never thought going to another universe or realm would be one of them until I came across you.” she pauses, a low chuckle dancing in her throat upon her next words. “I also would never have guessed we would be tagging together to take down the Bastards either.”

The Impossible Traveler pauses over the controls for a moment as she considers Lycana’s words. ”Yours is out there and we’ll find it; Excellence has a funny way of getting us exactly where we need to go. Even if she manages to get us into a heap of shit along the way... Ah, but who am I kidding? I wouldn’t trade any of the adventures I’ve had for anything.” An amused smile crosses her face as an impish giggle leaves her lips. ”I learned a long time ago to never count out the impossible, and I still find myself surprised by the way fate plays out. To think, we both arrived here at the start of the Bastards Reign of Error and wasted so much time trying to tear each other apart that we never stopped to recognize the bigger problem.” Her eyebrows scrunch together as she contemplates what's to come before her expression shifts into a smug smirk. ”I called that lovey-dovey shit in the Marftacular, though. I don’t know about everyone else, but I didn’t need a time machine to see that one coming between the two of you.”

“There were always circumstances looking to step between us, to be fair...” she softly responds, speaking of the Left Hand, and the animosity that had existed between Betsy and the entire faction. Despite all the battles, blood, and threats, there had always been that invisible thread that tied the two women together. Misinterpreted as the need to annihilate each other, they had tested it, tugged on it, tried to ignore it, and finally given in to learn more, a wary friendship blossoming as War games had loomed.

And now?

Now their alliance was stronger than Bobby Bourbon’s stomach at a buffet.

Being such, Lycana only chuckles, tilting her head towards the golden-haired stunner. “I admit, that was a pretty damn entertaining musical. And you saw it long before I did.” the admission comes with a rueful smile. “I suppose most thought I was incapable of softer feelings, thinking I was merely one-note; evil.” A delicate shoulder rises in an offhand shrug. “Not that I did anything to dissuade that. And I will still cheerfully slit the Bastards throats while singing a song.” A feral gleam lights her eyes. “I know that darker side of you enjoys such thoughts. They don’t think you have it in you, you know.”

A pause.

“They don’t know how wrong they are.”

“They’ll learn the mistake of their delusions soon enough.”

Flipping a lever, Excellence begins to shake slightly as she takes off. Lycana watches as the engine chugs to life, pumping away as temporal energy glows from within. Her eyes seem to shine with the light, her excited curiosity showing. An idea pops into Betsy’s head and she sets up the controls to auto-pilot for a bit.

”You wanna see something cool?” She asks of Lycana, making her way up the ramp towards the doors.

Grinning, Lycana follows her eagerly and stands next to Betsy in front of the doors to the ship. Without a word, Betsy swings open the doors to reveal the breathtaking wonders beyond. Lycana stares out of the doors in more awe than she’d ever felt in her entire life as brilliant stars and strange planets lit up her blue eyes. She watches in childlike fascination as the universe stretched out endlessly beyond her, closer than she ever imagined she could get. Galaxies spiral out all around them, floating mindlessly through the abyss, lighting up the dark mass of the universe itself with colors Lycana never even knew existed.

“This is...” Lycana says, but her voice trails off, knowing there were no words to describe what Betsy was sharing with her. “This is incredible.”

”Welcome to the edge of our galaxy.” Betsy says, reaching out to pat Lycana’s shoulder.

The two women have a seat on the edge of the door and just stare out into the vast wonders before them. Silence hangs between them like a warm blanket as each one allows themself to get lost in thought.

It wasn’t to last.

A sharp jerk throws both women back into Excellence as the doors slam shut and the ship begins to shake violently. They grunt in pain as they each hit the base of the control console, which offers no cushion upon impact. Crawling around to the control panel, Betsy pulls herself up as Lycana gets herself into one of the chairs.

”It looks like we’ve accidentally hit an inter-dimensional pocket... hang on tight, girlie, cuz this is about to get bumpy!”

And that’s all either remembers as the sheer pressure of the pocket forces both of them to succumb to deep space sickness. As they lay unconscious on the floor, Excellence is led unwillingly through time and space via a wormhole. Their world becomes black, white, and all the shades of grey in between as the ship is pulled into another reality...

The world surrounding them outside was sometime in the 1940s; freshly built skyscrapers and early model cars gave that much away. A quick look around from the Impossible Traveler would tell her that they were in very early 1940s Chicago. And at the moment, a pair of unsavory figures, who happened to be passing by as Excellence materialized into her rough landing, was stalking towards the doors. They were proprietors and collectors and had been told by a higher being that just such a box was due to arrive that very day. Now they stared at it in wonder, curious as to the treasures that were hiding within...

Meanwhile, Betsy and Lycana were both coming out of the space-sleep sickness and looking at one another in confusion.

“Was that part of the plan?” Lycana asks, rubbing a small bruise forming on her forehead.

”Not a single bit.” Betsy replies sourly, sitting upright and rotating her left wrist around. ”But since we’re here...”

Lycana hides her eyes from the light for a moment as a headache threatens to form. “Is that such a good idea? I mean... What if we can’t breathe... Or we burn to a crisp as soon as we touch the surface... Or some weird space creatures blast us with melting acid on sight?”

By now, Betsy has made it to the doors and cracked one open, peeking out of it. At first, she thinks nothing of the scene before her and turns to tell Lycana such...

And she pauses. She looks blankly at Lycana for a split second before turning back to the door and looking out of the crack again...

Then back to Lycana, who is now beginning to realize exactly what’s amiss.

“Bets... Where did the color go? And why are you dressed like you’re about to seduce Jay Gatsby at the big party?” Looking down, Lycana realizes she’s dressed similarly and lets out a started shriek. “Woah, what is this?”

”Well...” Pushing the door open a bit more, she allows Lycana her first view of the outside. A gasp escapes the sapphire vixen as she quickly approaches Betsy’s side and looks out.

“This is real, isn’t it?”

”Yup... This is real.” Betsy replies softly.

“It’s real alright, ladies, and now, I think, you’ll be coming with us.”

And before either of the women could react, the same two unsavory fellas appeared from around the sides. Using their sophisticated walking canes, they clock each of the girls upside the temple and scoop them up, tossing them over their shoulders carelessly as they take them away to their speakeasy across town...

TO BE CONTINUED!

****IT’S PEANUT BUTTER PROMO TIME****

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[Image: 65-F18810-C34-A-46-B5-A735-E72-E3-CE938-F6.gif]

”I told you fuckwits I foundd the secret to defeating you and finally expanding that crack in the foundation. Chasing BoB as a whole was a fool's journey, and one that left Apex, Legacy, and many others looking all the worse for trying. So focused I became on your figureheads, I ignored how sturdy the ground they stood on truly was; on the backs of Them No Good Bastards did BoB begin to rise to power.”

Betsy Granger and Lycana stand together in a dark room, the only light provided by the candles that cast soft shadows across their faces.

”My other mistake was looking for a man to aid me in a job meant for women. I mean that with as little offense as possible and all the love in the world to the men I consider my brothers, but let's face facts. We had a clear goal and we weren’t reaching it the way we wanted to. Accumulated victories outside of the ring mean nothing if we don’t have the results to show for it. I’m sick of these cat and mouse games and the Bastards have made it clear that they want my head.

This is their chance to come and take it, once and for all. The difference this time is that I’ve got the best person for the job at my side to handle business.”

Betsy glances over at Lycana and shoots her a sly grin.

”If you thought what happened at Warfare was bad, wait until you see what I have for TK in reply to all those chair shots.”

Betsy rubs the back of her head.

”You didn’t think this was going to be all about Bobby, did you Knuckles ol’ buddy? Not a chance, but you can wait. I’ve pinned you what... Twice now? Yeah, we can pause on clowning you for the moment, I’m certain my lovely companion has a few words she’d like to say on Bobby Bourbon.”

“Oh, Bourbsy Bourbsy Bourbsy... Are you that stupid?

Wait, you don’t have to answer that.

The answer is a resounding FUCK YEAH.

Did you think that I would sneak around behind my partner's back and pair up with Betsy here without him knowing? Was that the golden nugget that you were grasping within your greasy little fingers to be the coupe de grace on Lycana?”

A throaty chuckle emerges as she leans forward, the candlelight –omg yes- shimmering in her eyes as she levels a sarcastic smirk towards the camera.

“You know, I had given you credit for having a modicum of brains compared to Teeks over there, but I’ll be damned because I might just have to eat those words given you had THAT train of thought. Given how Marf and I have been inseparable for the better part of a year, have never faltered in our support of one another, the fact that we live with one another, and... well, I can go on and on. You took a look at all that, and still chose that particular path to skip on down?

Oh, my darling...

My poor sweet Bourbon, are you projecting some fears over my way? Always have that nagging little thought in the back of your mind that someone might flash a fat stack of X-Bux at TK and they’ll have him panting, leashed, and heeled quicker than you can say ‘Feed me’?

Well, fret not for me! For that is not the case here... no. The Dissentients are still, unfortunately for you, still very much alive and well. It is just that when Betsy came knocking with the offer to get my hands on you both yet again, the urge was simply too much to resist. The idea of stepping into that ring with you on the other side. The knowledge that I would get to dish out a world of hurt so soon after enjoying the dance we had on Savage. I had trouble holding back the yearning that pulsed through me.

And so, I agreed.

With Marf’s blessing.

He knew where my desires were even as I demurred. He would never hold me back from something I wanted to do, especially if it meant handing you two clowns your asses on a gilded platter. You see Bourb, the need to make you hurt, to spill your blood, and make you pay during every hellacious second we can, runs strong through the Dissentients.

And also, through Betsy.

As does cunning. Resilience. And more than her fair share of determination.”

Lycana looks over to the Impossible Traveler, who looks back, each sharing a predatory smile of intent.

“Again, I reiterate... how could I resist?”

A smug smirk crosses the face of the Impossible One.

”Honestly boys, did you think I would just swipe Lycana from her longtime partner without consulting them both? You silly shits, backhanded trickery, and backdoor bullshit are more of a Bastards technique; I prefer a more direct approach to situations such as these. Marf saw, as Lycana and I both saw, that the way to bring down the Bastards was to shake up the mix a bit. Think about it... Well, as much as you can with the canned Spam you call brains.

The task of defeating the Bastards isn’t the rough and tumble brawl everyone seems to think it is. Everyone is so determined to out-shit the biggest shitstains the industry boasts at the moment they don’t consider an alternate direction for success. It took me longer than I care to admit to figure out the solution to the problem of Them No Good Bastards.”

Betsy looks over at Lycana and winks.

”Toppling the big men in the pond requires a more... feminine touch.”

A mirthless chortle leaves her throat.

”Whenever I came at BoB before, I always did so with an army of testosterone at my back. Ever since the formation of Apex-Legacy, I’ve run around with the boys and watched as they’ve gone back and forth, neither side moving an inch forward. And I couldn’t help but wonder where we were going wrong; the number was finally even, why couldn’t we manage to get over on this group of troglodytes?

It’s because men, in all their wisdom, giving in to the nature of their beings and always crave the direct action of fighting instead of the patience it takes for revenge. Violence for a quick fix, that’s what they are hard-wired to strive for. Many men brag that they study their opponents, but do very little to prove it; it’s because they fail to do the digging necessary to get into the mind of the enemy. It’s not just about learning a move set and picking out a pattern in their fighting style; if you can’t learn the psychology of an enemy, what will it gain you?

This is why the Bastards have been allowed to dominate the Tag Team Division for as long as they have. Think about it, when was the last time they were truly beat as a team? Ah... Yes, when Atara and I faced off against them earlier this very year. A pair of women who shouldn’t have a chance against the pair of beached whales that have the nerve to call themselves a premiere tag team.

Shaking her head in disgust, Betsy begins to play with the flame of one of the candles.

”If you think my choice of partner was foolish, I suggest you reconsider. It’s true, the Dissentients, for as talented and ruthless as they are, were unable to achieve the task of toppling Them No Good Bastards. Several attempts were made and every single time, the greasy fucks found a way to get themselves over. Until now, the Dissentients were the best chance XWF had of releasing the iron grip of the Bastards on those belts.

A new hope has arrived... A new era, with Lycana and me at the head.

There was no way for her to resist, just as I knew there was no one else I could have asked to be at my side to take the two of you out once and for all. I love James and Shawn to pieces, but they aren’t as willing to do what a woman is to get what she wants. Lycana and I... we’re not afraid to slice your balls clean off your bodies.”

A sinister expression crosses the face of the Impossible Traveler.

”Come for us, big boys; you love to cause the pain and we love taking it. At this point, there’s nothing you can do, nothing you can say that hasn’t already been recycled to death. All you have left is brutality and cowardice, and neither one of them is a good look. Both of you have pissed me off enough to bend my own rules of etiquette... That’s a very dangerous position to find yourself in.

Come Relentless, I come for the jugulars; after Lycana and I have thoroughly slain the beast, we will bathe in your blood as we drink wine from your skulls. The rest of your flesh will be left somewhere to rot as wild animals and predatory birds feast to their heart's content. Them No Good Bastards will soon be nothing more than a nightmare that lurks the halls of the XWF; a rumor that never had any substance. It’s time for you boys to come to terms with the fact that you are absolutely nothing.

Everything about the two of you is small, and I don’t even need to make the obvious dick joke to drive home that point. I’ve met a lot of bitches in my life, but never before have I met a pair of pathetic, moldy taints in all of my travels. Both of you are so full of shit, you should be oozing it from your pores, yet you’re both as yellow as my morning piss. Both of you should have turned in your man cards and self-mutilated yourselves into eunuchs ages ago; then again, you would have deprived Lycana and me the opportunity to do it for you.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, y’all are a couple of the biggest pussy ass mother fucking jokes I’ve ever known, and destroying you will be a pleasure.”

Lycana eyes Betsy with a heavy amount of admiration, before giving an ‘I told ya so’ bob of her brows, her chin slowly sinking onto the palm of her hand. Her voice fills the room with its malicious coo.

“My dearest Bastards, look what you have gone and done... You’ve gotten my partner quite peeved. Pissed off to the point of desiring your balls, should you have had any to begin with, served up freshly carved from their homes, coated in gold, and mounted as a trophy to tell the tale of the fallen. You have stoked her fires from kindling to an inferno. You have lured the darkest part of her to the forefront, curling itself like onyx velvet around her, cloaking the sweet gossamer being you had once known. You have set her to the task of utter destruction, sword in hand, ready to take the heads of all who wander into the way. The thirst for vengeance flows unimpeded through her blood...

And for this...

I thank you.

Thank you for bringing into the light a match, that will go down in history as possibly one of the most brutal the world has ever seen. You have tasted hell at my hands, gone stumbling away battered and bloodied. You have tasted defeat at hers, crawling from the rubble bruised and hurting.

What can you expect now? Well, that’s simple... you can expect to be completely.

Utterly.

Undeniably.

Broken.

You can scoff all you wish. Deny the inevitable fate that looms over you like a dark specter. I can hear your baboonish guffaws as clear as if you were standing by me right now... particularly my own precious Thunder Knuckles.

Ooooh Knucky baby, you didn’t think we were going to spend alllll our time on Bobby, did you? And make you jealous? Never!

You know you are quite special to me... I make it known all the time, after all, I’m glad you’ve taken notice of that. To think I’d let a chance to have some precious one-on-one conversation with you pass me by, don’t be such a silly goose.

You get so up in arms when I speak about how you remain cradled in Bourbon’s arms, relying on him to carry your ass around... as you both flip flop within nearly every promo you spew, unable to decide if was Marf or Lycana who were carrying the Dissentients at that particular moment. I cannot wait to see who you decide is going to be the one shouldering the full burden of this little partnership Betsy and I have going on. Or will you be unable to keep your story straight there? At least I remain consistent within my thoughts.

You remain consistently fuckwitted... so there's that.

Bravo!

How did it feel, by the way? At War Games?

Oh, I don’t mean pinning me per se, laying across an actual female is probably one of the highlights of your life. I meant when your partner hopped atop of you, assuring that you could get the job done against little waste of life Lycana?

How did it feel that he didn’t think you had enough in you to hold me down? Or is there some other sad-ass little excuse for that? Yeah, I'm sure there will be one incoming. Was that meant to be some macho, manly display by you, two porcine slobs? So incredibly... uhh... impressive... I guess?”

She glances at Betsy with a pained look on her face.

“They thought it was a game of Hungry Hungry Hippos and mistook you for the little ball. Now you get to make them choke on it, along with all their other atrocities.”

“Ah, that explains a lot. TK is always on a never-ending quest to find some balls. Don’t think I didn’t notice how you handled those eggs, rolling them longingly in your palms. We all know you wish you could have stuffed them into that sad, empty, shriveled little sack you have dangling between your thighs.

Nothing, not even a decent pair of prosthetics can make you into a man.

Nothing can take the stench of cowardice off your disgusting body.

Nothing can wash the stain of canary that bathes your entire essence.

And both of you are staring down the barrel of a very long gun. Prepping for a very long, painful, walk to the end of your reign. The combination of deadly focus and studious calculation is now looking you directly in the face, preparing to execute you both. The death of an era, and nobody could be more excited to be participating in those honors than me.

The Dark Vixen of Violence and the Impossible Traveler are focused on one thing. United together on one mission. Bound towards a common goal.

To topple you two fat asses, and take away something that means so damn much to you.

Your gold.

And while we are at it... we are going to make you both our little bitches... as you deserve.”

Looking over at Betsy, the Impossible Traveler gives Lycana a wide smile as she nods her agreement. Both the girls turn to the camera and as one, stick their hands in the lens, causing the scene to go dark.]]> It was done; Betsy Granger had gone to Warfare and claimed her victory over Bobby Bourbon going into Relentless. The message to the Bastards was sent and their date was set in stone.

Presently, Betsy was guiding Excellence to the werewolf-filled commune where Lycana sat at the head of her clan. The idea of having to walk through the village again made her want to chew on glass, but it had to be done. Even an outsider like herself could sense tension among the clan, and Lycana inviting a stranger to their turf didn’t seem to be helping matters. Even still, the Dissentient had insisted on her arrival, seeming excited to get on her way to finding her kyber crystal. The Impossible Traveler still couldn’t quite believe Lycana’s enthusiasm for the tasks ahead of them; Betsy found them exhausting, though her desire to see them through still burned beneath the surface.

There’s a soft bump as Excellence lands; this time, she lands mercifully in front of Lycana’s cottage. Before she could take a step towards the doors, they fling open wide, and standing in the frame is the partner she’d come to collect.

“About time.” humor entwines itself with a hint of frustrated eagerness as Lycana lays eyes on Betsy. A smile tugs the corners of her ruby-stained lips upwards as she takes a half step back, one hand remaining on Excellence’s door. She had taken the other’s recommendations to heart; her body clad in a stretchy black catsuit that clung to her curves like a second skin. The material shimmers lightly as she moves, like the sun on the water. Leather combat boots bind her from her toes to calves to her knees. “I thought you would never get here.” She flicks a glance around the still village before her gaze returns to Betsy.

”My fault.” Betsy shoots Lycana an apologetic grin, unable to help herself from admiring the fashionable tactical wear. Betsy was in her black leather catsuit, thigh-high black tactical boots adding another inch or two to her height. The top was slightly unzipped, revealing a black half-top underneath. A sturdy utility belt hung from her hips, her dual-ended lightsaber hanging from its place along with several other gadgets. Attached to a thigh holster is the blaster she used as a last resort, though she detested the clumsy weapons. ”I didn’t think you’d be at the door, ready for me to land.

Lycana’s eyes glitter, as her mouth opens.

“She’s been watching out the window for you.” a voice interrupts drily, causing Lycana’s head to swing around, and Betsy to peer over her shoulder.

Marf leans in the doorway of the small cottage, arms crossed, bicep muscles bulging as he shakes his head slightly at his blue-haired vixen, who was crinkling her nose at him for letting the cat out of the bag. He straightens, strolling over to stand by the side of his fellow Dissentient. “You’d think she was eager to put her life on the line like supernatural problems don’t find her often enough.” He boops her on the nose with the last words, causing her eyebrows to come crashing down in a fearsome scowl. He grins at her, obviously terrified.

“You make me sound like a dog.” she pokes him in the chest, her tone mellow despite the expression on her face. “Wolf. Dog...” Marf simply shrugs his shoulders, skillfully avoiding a swat, moving to place the silver handle of Lycana’s lightsaber into the holster on the belt that was slung low around her hips. “You ran out so fast you forgot that.”

A sheepish look creeps across Lycana’s façade, as she peers up at him. “Thank you.” His arm snakes around her waist, tugging her closer for a quick hug before releasing her. “You’re welcome.” Lycana risks a glance at Betsy, seeing how she took the little scene being played out before her, a side not many saw of the duo. Marf follows the direction of her gaze, his eyes hardening and jaw firming as he sets sights on the Impossible Traveler. “Remember what I said.”

Betsy nods, her gaze never faltering under the intensity of Marf’s gaze. ”You have my word... I’ll give my own life to get her back here to you if it comes to that.”

“We’ll see about that,” Marf replies gruffly.

”I just hope it doesn’t come to that.” Betsy says lightly, hoping to ease the tension between them. His blank stare is all the answer she needed on that front. Clearing her throat, she turns back to Lycana. ”Shall we, then?" Turning away from the couple, she gives them a minute to say a proper “farewell for now” to one another without her watching.

A muffled exchange from behind Betsy, culminating in the soft tread of a foot stepping forward into the interior of Excellence. “I have everything here, just make sure you come back. Both of you. You have some Bastards to fuck up.” With that, the big man backs up, a gentle bob of his head at odds with the hardness of his eyes, screaming silently to the world that he would destroy anything that brought Lycana harm. The Dissentients stare at each other for a long second more, before Marf turns and disappears into the cottage, leaving the two women alone once more.

A light sigh escapes Lycana as she watches him go, before turning neatly on her heel, her soft demeanor transforming into one of enthusiasm for the task at hand.

“Where to first?” she inquires, tossing her long locks over her shoulder as she approaches to stand at Betsy’s side, her eyes wandering curiously over the control panel.

Betsy sweeps her green eyes towards Lycana, keeping them hidden underneath her lashes as she begins to type in coordinates. ”I thought we could go to Ilum first; the universe is full of kyber crystals waiting to be found, but Ilum is famous for storing them in its ice caves. I figured that would give us our best shot at finding your crystal fairly quickly; and if not, there’s a whole universe full of them.”

“I see,” Lycana replies softly, her blue gaze sweeping from the control panel to Betsy. “And where would we begin looking for this crystal if Ilum fails to provide?”

”Ah...” Her voice falters as she grins sheepishly at Lycana. ”That’s the trick; we could stumble over that thing anywhere. Ilum was just my first logical choice for the reason I chose, but the most important thing is to follow your feelings. When you’re near it, you’ll hear it begin to call to you. The closer you are, the louder it gets; by then, you’ll start to feel its power, too.” She smiles warmly at her new partner in crime, allowing Lycana’s excitement to infect her as well.

“Like a mind connection, I’m linked to it,” she speaks, more to herself than anything else, her face a study of fascination at the concept. “In reality, we could travel all over and not find anything? Is that a possibility?” dubiousness creeps, into her words, for just a moment, before she shakes her head. “No, no doubts. We will find it.” She watches with fascination as Betsy works the controls, her whole being like a child watching a magic show. “You know, I’ve done a lot of crazy things, but I never thought going to another universe or realm would be one of them until I came across you.” she pauses, a low chuckle dancing in her throat upon her next words. “I also would never have guessed we would be tagging together to take down the Bastards either.”

The Impossible Traveler pauses over the controls for a moment as she considers Lycana’s words. ”Yours is out there and we’ll find it; Excellence has a funny way of getting us exactly where we need to go. Even if she manages to get us into a heap of shit along the way... Ah, but who am I kidding? I wouldn’t trade any of the adventures I’ve had for anything.” An amused smile crosses her face as an impish giggle leaves her lips. ”I learned a long time ago to never count out the impossible, and I still find myself surprised by the way fate plays out. To think, we both arrived here at the start of the Bastards Reign of Error and wasted so much time trying to tear each other apart that we never stopped to recognize the bigger problem.” Her eyebrows scrunch together as she contemplates what's to come before her expression shifts into a smug smirk. ”I called that lovey-dovey shit in the Marftacular, though. I don’t know about everyone else, but I didn’t need a time machine to see that one coming between the two of you.”

“There were always circumstances looking to step between us, to be fair...” she softly responds, speaking of the Left Hand, and the animosity that had existed between Betsy and the entire faction. Despite all the battles, blood, and threats, there had always been that invisible thread that tied the two women together. Misinterpreted as the need to annihilate each other, they had tested it, tugged on it, tried to ignore it, and finally given in to learn more, a wary friendship blossoming as War games had loomed.

And now?

Now their alliance was stronger than Bobby Bourbon’s stomach at a buffet.

Being such, Lycana only chuckles, tilting her head towards the golden-haired stunner. “I admit, that was a pretty damn entertaining musical. And you saw it long before I did.” the admission comes with a rueful smile. “I suppose most thought I was incapable of softer feelings, thinking I was merely one-note; evil.” A delicate shoulder rises in an offhand shrug. “Not that I did anything to dissuade that. And I will still cheerfully slit the Bastards throats while singing a song.” A feral gleam lights her eyes. “I know that darker side of you enjoys such thoughts. They don’t think you have it in you, you know.”

A pause.

“They don’t know how wrong they are.”

“They’ll learn the mistake of their delusions soon enough.”

Flipping a lever, Excellence begins to shake slightly as she takes off. Lycana watches as the engine chugs to life, pumping away as temporal energy glows from within. Her eyes seem to shine with the light, her excited curiosity showing. An idea pops into Betsy’s head and she sets up the controls to auto-pilot for a bit.

”You wanna see something cool?” She asks of Lycana, making her way up the ramp towards the doors.

Grinning, Lycana follows her eagerly and stands next to Betsy in front of the doors to the ship. Without a word, Betsy swings open the doors to reveal the breathtaking wonders beyond. Lycana stares out of the doors in more awe than she’d ever felt in her entire life as brilliant stars and strange planets lit up her blue eyes. She watches in childlike fascination as the universe stretched out endlessly beyond her, closer than she ever imagined she could get. Galaxies spiral out all around them, floating mindlessly through the abyss, lighting up the dark mass of the universe itself with colors Lycana never even knew existed.

“This is...” Lycana says, but her voice trails off, knowing there were no words to describe what Betsy was sharing with her. “This is incredible.”

”Welcome to the edge of our galaxy.” Betsy says, reaching out to pat Lycana’s shoulder.

The two women have a seat on the edge of the door and just stare out into the vast wonders before them. Silence hangs between them like a warm blanket as each one allows themself to get lost in thought.

It wasn’t to last.

A sharp jerk throws both women back into Excellence as the doors slam shut and the ship begins to shake violently. They grunt in pain as they each hit the base of the control console, which offers no cushion upon impact. Crawling around to the control panel, Betsy pulls herself up as Lycana gets herself into one of the chairs.

”It looks like we’ve accidentally hit an inter-dimensional pocket... hang on tight, girlie, cuz this is about to get bumpy!”

And that’s all either remembers as the sheer pressure of the pocket forces both of them to succumb to deep space sickness. As they lay unconscious on the floor, Excellence is led unwillingly through time and space via a wormhole. Their world becomes black, white, and all the shades of grey in between as the ship is pulled into another reality...

The world surrounding them outside was sometime in the 1940s; freshly built skyscrapers and early model cars gave that much away. A quick look around from the Impossible Traveler would tell her that they were in very early 1940s Chicago. And at the moment, a pair of unsavory figures, who happened to be passing by as Excellence materialized into her rough landing, was stalking towards the doors. They were proprietors and collectors and had been told by a higher being that just such a box was due to arrive that very day. Now they stared at it in wonder, curious as to the treasures that were hiding within...

Meanwhile, Betsy and Lycana were both coming out of the space-sleep sickness and looking at one another in confusion.

“Was that part of the plan?” Lycana asks, rubbing a small bruise forming on her forehead.

”Not a single bit.” Betsy replies sourly, sitting upright and rotating her left wrist around. ”But since we’re here...”

Lycana hides her eyes from the light for a moment as a headache threatens to form. “Is that such a good idea? I mean... What if we can’t breathe... Or we burn to a crisp as soon as we touch the surface... Or some weird space creatures blast us with melting acid on sight?”

By now, Betsy has made it to the doors and cracked one open, peeking out of it. At first, she thinks nothing of the scene before her and turns to tell Lycana such...

And she pauses. She looks blankly at Lycana for a split second before turning back to the door and looking out of the crack again...

Then back to Lycana, who is now beginning to realize exactly what’s amiss.

“Bets... Where did the color go? And why are you dressed like you’re about to seduce Jay Gatsby at the big party?” Looking down, Lycana realizes she’s dressed similarly and lets out a started shriek. “Woah, what is this?”

”Well...” Pushing the door open a bit more, she allows Lycana her first view of the outside. A gasp escapes the sapphire vixen as she quickly approaches Betsy’s side and looks out.

“This is real, isn’t it?”

”Yup... This is real.” Betsy replies softly.

“It’s real alright, ladies, and now, I think, you’ll be coming with us.”

And before either of the women could react, the same two unsavory fellas appeared from around the sides. Using their sophisticated walking canes, they clock each of the girls upside the temple and scoop them up, tossing them over their shoulders carelessly as they take them away to their speakeasy across town...

TO BE CONTINUED!

****IT’S PEANUT BUTTER PROMO TIME****

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