<![CDATA[X-treme Wrestling Federation - Relentless Day 2 RP Boards 2022]]> https://xwf1999.com/ Fri, 08 May 2026 16:45:36 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[Knocking Out A Knock Off]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44605 Fri, 23 Sep 2022 23:59:16 -0700 Latina Submission Machina]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44605
Uhhh, girly, I think we oughta hide in the trunk…

Huh? What are you talking about? Come on padre, we don’t have time for weird games, we have to fix this car up and get back on the road to Relentless!

Charlie rubs an agitated hand through his mangy locks before turning back to his daughter and biting his nails. Off in the distance we can hear the sounds of engines roaring and tires squealing…something’s coming down the road. Two sets of something, in fact, as we see two caravans of armored cars quickly approaching our broken down travelers.

I’m not playing games! Look!

Charlie pulls Robyn out from beneath the propped-up hood of the engine and directs her attention to the two armored caravans hauling ass towards them down either side of the road. The trucks in the caravan are still kicking up dust a couple miles away, but it’s clear they’re going to be upon our hero and her shitbag father any minute now. Robyn cocks a curious eyebrow as she looks between the pair of convoys.

Oh…do you think those have anything to do with us? I’m sure other people use this road.

By now Charlie is pacing back and forth next to the car, sweating profusely as he rubs his hands together.

They’re definitely after me, darling! I think I may finally have gotten too big for my britches…

Robyn cocks her head to the side as places her hand above her eyes, shielding them from the cancerous rays of the desert sun.

What are you talking about?

The Nickleman brushes both of his hands through his matted hair, ripping out a handful of tangles, before shaking his head and looking down at the ground in self-afflicted anguish.

I’ll show you…but don’t tell anyone! I hid it all in the trunk…

Nickles takes a step towards the trunk, as does his daughter. He throws his arm out in front of her to stop her from getting any closer.

AND DON’T YOU FUCKING TOUCH ANY!

Robyn watches with worried curiosity as her father walks to the trunk of the car. He looks back towards her and sighs with disappointment before popping open the trunk and revealing a hatch full of bricked cocaine.

Her heart sank immediately. She knew her father wasn’t clean, but this amount of narcotics? This was a different level altogether.

AY DIOS MIO?! What are you doing with all that?!?!

Robyn placed one hand on the back of her head as she stared into the prepackaged snow white with complete disbelief. Was her father lying about being broke…or was he just spending all his money on copious amounts of drugs? Was this why he hadn’t been competing in singles competition since August? Had back-to-back big time losses driven her father to his breaking point?

Robyn shook her head in shock as she looked between the cocaine and her bastardly father, who upon closer inspection appeared to be showing all the common signs of recent drug usage. The sweats, the shakes, the grinding of the teeth….and a bit of white stuff still on his nose, because he just took a bump out of the trunk in front of his horrified daughter!

You’re going to kill yourself on this shit! Stop it!

Robyn tries to pull her father away from the trunk but he pushes her off him.

No I’m not! I was just going to sell it to the guys backstage at Relentless! I was going to call it Charlie’s Street Powder, so they wouldn’t ask too many questions!

Robyn stomps her feet into the desert sands as she screams at her father.

That would only make them ask MORE questions! Jesus Christoe, where’d you even get all this from?!

Charlie looks between the two quickly approaching convoys. A nervous chuckle escapes his lips.

Haha funny story…well I uh, I stole it from the Cartel…..and I think they’re coming back to get it.

A few gunshots from an AK-47 are fired into the air from one of the approaching caravans of armored trucks.

WHAT THE HELL?!?! When did you put all these drogas in here?!?!

Girl, what do you think I came down to Mexico for? One of Tee-Kay’s chicano escorts told him about a big shipment coming through the border, and I just knew I had to get my hands on it! But fuck, I thought we’d make quicker progress than this…

Wait, what? I thought you came down to Mexico to take me to Relentless? Like some sort of way too late family vacation!

I mean, shit, do you want the truth or do you want the pretty little lies? Are you old enough to handle my truth yet, or do kids your age still believe in Santa Claus and fantastical X-treme title runs?

I want the damn truth!

I just thought about you as I was driving through Ciadi Juarez- and I thought, ‘shit- what if i get caught with this shit by the pigs’?

What?

Well if there’s a shit-ton of coke in the car and I’m the only passenger in it, they’re going to put those felony charges and try to put me away for life!

Wait, so you only picked me up and offered to take me to the show so you could pin the FUCKING CHARGES on me if you got caught smuggling drugs?!?!?!

What? No! Not at all, you’re getting it all twisted up!

Well then explain it to me!

A few more shots can be heard from various long rifles as the two convoys get closer and closer.

Is now really the best time for this?

YES!

Basically if there are two or more people in the car, we both have reasonable doubt! We can both say it’s not ours and then neither of us can get in trouble, because it could be the other person’s drugs!

That’s not how that works! That’s not how any of this works!

Look, who gives a shit right now about the law, okay? We’ve got bigger fucking fish to fry!

Nickles waves away LSM’s fury dismissively before he reaches into the trunk of the car and pulls out a mac-10 submachine pistol, fully loaded with one in the chamber. The safety, of course, has never been
used on this mac-10.


[Image: OIP.rOMVqJ_FnIfxxq5oCFevuwHaEv?w=280&h=1...25&pid=1.7]

AY DIOS MIO WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH THAT?!

I’m going to hide in the trunk with my coke, and if they open the hatch I’m blowing them away!

WHAT?!

You heard me!

And with that, Charlie Nickles pushed some coke to the side and created a little space for himself to literally crawl into the trunk of the car, pistol in hand. Nickles takes a few seconds to get as comfortable as he can before he beckons for his daughter to close the hatch.

Alright, I think I’m good! Those idiots will probably never check the trunk. Just shut the hatch…oh, and make sure to let me out of this sumbitch after those guys leave!

Wait a minute…you want me to just lock you into a trunk with a gun and cocaine while the cartel rides towards us?! What am I supposed to do when they get here?!

Well, they’re probably going to want to have their way with you like Gravy and Preesh- so you should probably let them do that, and then when they leave come back and let me out of this trunk! Make sure to knock three times before you open the hatch tho, cause I’m going to have my finger on the trigger and I’d hate to accidentally blast ya!

Robyn stood there looking down upon her cowardly bastard of a father. She didn’t know the name of the emotion she felt in her heart, she just knew that it was running through her system like a bolt of shock. As the hot desert sun beat down upon her neck, Robyn’s sweat helped conceal the tears that were falling off her face into Charlie’s cocaine hideaway. She shook her head from side to side as she tried to speak but found herself unable. A shitheel felt like it was lodged in her throat, choking back her words.

Her own father, the last immediate family she had left, was so willing to throw her to the wolves, like her life meant nothing at all. As Robyn stood above him in the middle of the desert, she reflected on their relationship over the last few months.

Robyn always knew her father was a bastard, she always knew she’d have to be somewhat guarded around him, but the emotional hits just kept on coming. First, he lambasted and criticized his own daughter for winning the X-treme Championship. Then, he was unwilling to help her fight off Big Preesh and the band of wanna-be-rapists who came after her belt and her body. Her father even tried to join her opponent’s team in the first round of War Games.

As Robyn stood with her hand on the hatch of a broken-down car in the middle of the desert, she finally came to the realization that her father had never been there for her: and he never would be. He would always use her and then throw her away, just like he did to her mother.

Another round of gunshots goes off into the air, much closer than before. Robyn looks down at the barking bastard in the trunk with a wrathful fury behind her eyes.

Well, what are you waiting for?! Close the fucking hatch so I don’t have to pop these fools!

Adios, bastard.

Robyn spits in her father’s face before she slams the trunk shut. He pounds on the roof with his mac-10 as soon as the hatch latches.

And don’t forget to let me out of here when those cartel boys are done with you!

Robyn rolled her eyes and crossed her arms: she was never going to let that bastard out of this trunk. She silently prayed to herself that he would suffocate and die in there as the two armored caravans slowed to a stop on either side of the smoking and smoldering automobile. LSM closes her eyes for a moment and exhales softly as about a dozen latinos hop out of the armored trucks with machine guns and longrifles. She prayed to the real Saints for protection before opening her eyes once more.

LSM silently balled her hands into fists as she saw the group of men approaching her from both directions. From the swagger in their step and the markings on their trucks, she could tell these thugs were with the local cartel. Robyn Gonzalez didn’t know what these goons wanted from her, but she wasn’t looking forward to finding out….

“Heyyy chica, don’t I know ya from somewhere?”

“Nope, don’t think so. Why don’t you guys just go right along now.”

“Wait- yeah I do! I totally know you!”

“Nu uh…”

“It’s her!”

LSM takes a few steps back towards the car, putting it directly behind her as she prepares to raise her fists in self-defense as a few of the men start taking off their body armor and vests….only to reveal they are wearing LATINA SUBMISSION MACHINA t-shirts underneath! The ones from the Cannabis Cup!

“You’re the Latina Submission Machina!”

“We love you El-Es-Em!”

“And we love your photos! I’m sure we’re not your only fans, but we’re probably your biggest fans! MEXICO REPRESENT!

“She’s even hotter in person! Will you sign my forehead?”

The cartel goons start surrounding LSM asking for autographs and selfies with Thursday Night Anarchy’s biggest star.

“What are you even doing all the way out here, chica?”

“Well…”

Robyn gestures towards the busted hoopty.

“I’m on my way to Relentless, but my damn car broke down!”

“Well why don’t you hop along with us, Chica! We all bought front-row tickets to watch the biggest wrestling show of the year.”

Wow, those are expensive. How’d you all afford that?

When El Chapo got arrested we raided his police and took our share of the dough! And we’re spending most of it on wrestling merchandise and tickets, and of course gas for our trucks!

Oh, yeah, I guess that makes sense.

So come on, ride with us, Chica! We’ll make sure you get there just in time to beat that rapist pedophile’s ass!

LSM looks towards the cartel pushers, then back towards the trunk of the car. She chuckles to herself before turning back to her newfound fans.

You know what? That sounds like an excellent idea. Let’s fucking go amigos!

The cartel boys fire off gunshots into the air excitedly as LSM hops into the back of one of their trucks and starts pounding on the top of it, telling the driver to get here to Hollywood Studios as fast as he can!




Aaaaaaannnnnnnddddddd tttthhhheeeeennnnnnnn……..





We cut to a scene of LSM sitting next to the beach in southern California, wearing a red, white, and green bikini as she sips on a margarita from the comforts of a pool chair. We can only see one side of her face until LSM turns towards the camera. That’s when we see that iconic face paint. She takes one last sip of the margarita she is legally too young to drink before she places it on a nearby table.

Is this how you want to see me, amigo? Is this what you want to look at when the lights go out and you get to that beating?

LSM theatrically gestures towards her bikini-clad body as she stays rested comfortably in her pool chair.

Well that’s too bad, Micheal Graves, because losers like you can never get with superstars like me. When it comes to talent you are washed up, but when it comes to hygiene you haven’t been washed up since 2017! I’d say you’re ‘over the hill’, but frankly, I don’t think you’re in good enough shape to be running up and over any kind of hills soon. The only thing that’s getting run over tomorrow night, Micheal, is YOU- and the kind of neckbeard insolence you so fiendishly champion.

LSM looks at the camera with a snarl across her rose-glossed lips.

You want to compare who’s had the better 2022? You must be the one buying all those drogas off mi padre now, because there’s no way you’re winning that debate!

Your 2022 has been a joke of missed opportunity after missed opportunity. I’ve been seizing new opportunities every month, every week in 2022! Your biggest claim to fame this year is that you annoyed Vinnie Lane enough to get booked in a squash match for the universal championship. That’s not groundbreaking, that’s not anything to brag about: that’s just page 1 out of my old man’s playbook- and it kinda looks like you’ve been stealing his audibles and formations ever since he beat you for that ‘Goldi’ back in January. But me? My biggest claim to fame this year could be a dozen things. Was it captaining a War Games team? Was it becoming a 2-time Anarchy Champion? Was it pinning Thunder Knuckles for one of the top belts in the federation? It’s hard to say. Everyone has a different ‘favorite El-Es-Em’ moment this year, because there’s just been so many of them!

Whatever my top achievement is this year, it’s not going to be beating Micheal Graves tomorrow night, because that’s already a given! I’m the rising star, I’m the next face of this company. Micheal Graves is the disgusting skidmark Vinnie Lane wishes he could just forget. It’s fitting that Gravy ripped off the Nightmare series for this match- because just like in all those movies, this fight can only end one way:

With our beautiful heroine defeating the disgusting pedophile. That’s how every Nightmare movie ends, and it’s how this match is going to end, too!

Micheal Graves lucha style is as unoriginal as his promo style, amigo. He fights like every other nasty rudo has before: he’s ‘X-treme’, he’s ‘hardcore’, he’s been ‘Charlie Nickles lite’ for the last two years. Now he wants to be the knockoff Krueger? It’s no sweat off my back. I’ll knock out this knockoff with no second thoughts. I’ll tap-out this loser who’s trying to tap-in to everyone else’s character strategies.

Micheal Graves wants LSM? Well tomorrow night he’s going to get her- now let’s see what he can do with it!

LSM glares into the camera before silently winking and standing up out of her chair. As our bikini-clad icon turns to leave the scene the camera finally fades to black.]]>
Uhhh, girly, I think we oughta hide in the trunk…

Huh? What are you talking about? Come on padre, we don’t have time for weird games, we have to fix this car up and get back on the road to Relentless!

Charlie rubs an agitated hand through his mangy locks before turning back to his daughter and biting his nails. Off in the distance we can hear the sounds of engines roaring and tires squealing…something’s coming down the road. Two sets of something, in fact, as we see two caravans of armored cars quickly approaching our broken down travelers.

I’m not playing games! Look!

Charlie pulls Robyn out from beneath the propped-up hood of the engine and directs her attention to the two armored caravans hauling ass towards them down either side of the road. The trucks in the caravan are still kicking up dust a couple miles away, but it’s clear they’re going to be upon our hero and her shitbag father any minute now. Robyn cocks a curious eyebrow as she looks between the pair of convoys.

Oh…do you think those have anything to do with us? I’m sure other people use this road.

By now Charlie is pacing back and forth next to the car, sweating profusely as he rubs his hands together.

They’re definitely after me, darling! I think I may finally have gotten too big for my britches…

Robyn cocks her head to the side as places her hand above her eyes, shielding them from the cancerous rays of the desert sun.

What are you talking about?

The Nickleman brushes both of his hands through his matted hair, ripping out a handful of tangles, before shaking his head and looking down at the ground in self-afflicted anguish.

I’ll show you…but don’t tell anyone! I hid it all in the trunk…

Nickles takes a step towards the trunk, as does his daughter. He throws his arm out in front of her to stop her from getting any closer.

AND DON’T YOU FUCKING TOUCH ANY!

Robyn watches with worried curiosity as her father walks to the trunk of the car. He looks back towards her and sighs with disappointment before popping open the trunk and revealing a hatch full of bricked cocaine.

Her heart sank immediately. She knew her father wasn’t clean, but this amount of narcotics? This was a different level altogether.

AY DIOS MIO?! What are you doing with all that?!?!

Robyn placed one hand on the back of her head as she stared into the prepackaged snow white with complete disbelief. Was her father lying about being broke…or was he just spending all his money on copious amounts of drugs? Was this why he hadn’t been competing in singles competition since August? Had back-to-back big time losses driven her father to his breaking point?

Robyn shook her head in shock as she looked between the cocaine and her bastardly father, who upon closer inspection appeared to be showing all the common signs of recent drug usage. The sweats, the shakes, the grinding of the teeth….and a bit of white stuff still on his nose, because he just took a bump out of the trunk in front of his horrified daughter!

You’re going to kill yourself on this shit! Stop it!

Robyn tries to pull her father away from the trunk but he pushes her off him.

No I’m not! I was just going to sell it to the guys backstage at Relentless! I was going to call it Charlie’s Street Powder, so they wouldn’t ask too many questions!

Robyn stomps her feet into the desert sands as she screams at her father.

That would only make them ask MORE questions! Jesus Christoe, where’d you even get all this from?!

Charlie looks between the two quickly approaching convoys. A nervous chuckle escapes his lips.

Haha funny story…well I uh, I stole it from the Cartel…..and I think they’re coming back to get it.

A few gunshots from an AK-47 are fired into the air from one of the approaching caravans of armored trucks.

WHAT THE HELL?!?! When did you put all these drogas in here?!?!

Girl, what do you think I came down to Mexico for? One of Tee-Kay’s chicano escorts told him about a big shipment coming through the border, and I just knew I had to get my hands on it! But fuck, I thought we’d make quicker progress than this…

Wait, what? I thought you came down to Mexico to take me to Relentless? Like some sort of way too late family vacation!

I mean, shit, do you want the truth or do you want the pretty little lies? Are you old enough to handle my truth yet, or do kids your age still believe in Santa Claus and fantastical X-treme title runs?

I want the damn truth!

I just thought about you as I was driving through Ciadi Juarez- and I thought, ‘shit- what if i get caught with this shit by the pigs’?

What?

Well if there’s a shit-ton of coke in the car and I’m the only passenger in it, they’re going to put those felony charges and try to put me away for life!

Wait, so you only picked me up and offered to take me to the show so you could pin the FUCKING CHARGES on me if you got caught smuggling drugs?!?!?!

What? No! Not at all, you’re getting it all twisted up!

Well then explain it to me!

A few more shots can be heard from various long rifles as the two convoys get closer and closer.

Is now really the best time for this?

YES!

Basically if there are two or more people in the car, we both have reasonable doubt! We can both say it’s not ours and then neither of us can get in trouble, because it could be the other person’s drugs!

That’s not how that works! That’s not how any of this works!

Look, who gives a shit right now about the law, okay? We’ve got bigger fucking fish to fry!

Nickles waves away LSM’s fury dismissively before he reaches into the trunk of the car and pulls out a mac-10 submachine pistol, fully loaded with one in the chamber. The safety, of course, has never been
used on this mac-10.


[Image: OIP.rOMVqJ_FnIfxxq5oCFevuwHaEv?w=280&h=1...25&pid=1.7]

AY DIOS MIO WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH THAT?!

I’m going to hide in the trunk with my coke, and if they open the hatch I’m blowing them away!

WHAT?!

You heard me!

And with that, Charlie Nickles pushed some coke to the side and created a little space for himself to literally crawl into the trunk of the car, pistol in hand. Nickles takes a few seconds to get as comfortable as he can before he beckons for his daughter to close the hatch.

Alright, I think I’m good! Those idiots will probably never check the trunk. Just shut the hatch…oh, and make sure to let me out of this sumbitch after those guys leave!

Wait a minute…you want me to just lock you into a trunk with a gun and cocaine while the cartel rides towards us?! What am I supposed to do when they get here?!

Well, they’re probably going to want to have their way with you like Gravy and Preesh- so you should probably let them do that, and then when they leave come back and let me out of this trunk! Make sure to knock three times before you open the hatch tho, cause I’m going to have my finger on the trigger and I’d hate to accidentally blast ya!

Robyn stood there looking down upon her cowardly bastard of a father. She didn’t know the name of the emotion she felt in her heart, she just knew that it was running through her system like a bolt of shock. As the hot desert sun beat down upon her neck, Robyn’s sweat helped conceal the tears that were falling off her face into Charlie’s cocaine hideaway. She shook her head from side to side as she tried to speak but found herself unable. A shitheel felt like it was lodged in her throat, choking back her words.

Her own father, the last immediate family she had left, was so willing to throw her to the wolves, like her life meant nothing at all. As Robyn stood above him in the middle of the desert, she reflected on their relationship over the last few months.

Robyn always knew her father was a bastard, she always knew she’d have to be somewhat guarded around him, but the emotional hits just kept on coming. First, he lambasted and criticized his own daughter for winning the X-treme Championship. Then, he was unwilling to help her fight off Big Preesh and the band of wanna-be-rapists who came after her belt and her body. Her father even tried to join her opponent’s team in the first round of War Games.

As Robyn stood with her hand on the hatch of a broken-down car in the middle of the desert, she finally came to the realization that her father had never been there for her: and he never would be. He would always use her and then throw her away, just like he did to her mother.

Another round of gunshots goes off into the air, much closer than before. Robyn looks down at the barking bastard in the trunk with a wrathful fury behind her eyes.

Well, what are you waiting for?! Close the fucking hatch so I don’t have to pop these fools!

Adios, bastard.

Robyn spits in her father’s face before she slams the trunk shut. He pounds on the roof with his mac-10 as soon as the hatch latches.

And don’t forget to let me out of here when those cartel boys are done with you!

Robyn rolled her eyes and crossed her arms: she was never going to let that bastard out of this trunk. She silently prayed to herself that he would suffocate and die in there as the two armored caravans slowed to a stop on either side of the smoking and smoldering automobile. LSM closes her eyes for a moment and exhales softly as about a dozen latinos hop out of the armored trucks with machine guns and longrifles. She prayed to the real Saints for protection before opening her eyes once more.

LSM silently balled her hands into fists as she saw the group of men approaching her from both directions. From the swagger in their step and the markings on their trucks, she could tell these thugs were with the local cartel. Robyn Gonzalez didn’t know what these goons wanted from her, but she wasn’t looking forward to finding out….

“Heyyy chica, don’t I know ya from somewhere?”

“Nope, don’t think so. Why don’t you guys just go right along now.”

“Wait- yeah I do! I totally know you!”

“Nu uh…”

“It’s her!”

LSM takes a few steps back towards the car, putting it directly behind her as she prepares to raise her fists in self-defense as a few of the men start taking off their body armor and vests….only to reveal they are wearing LATINA SUBMISSION MACHINA t-shirts underneath! The ones from the Cannabis Cup!

“You’re the Latina Submission Machina!”

“We love you El-Es-Em!”

“And we love your photos! I’m sure we’re not your only fans, but we’re probably your biggest fans! MEXICO REPRESENT!

“She’s even hotter in person! Will you sign my forehead?”

The cartel goons start surrounding LSM asking for autographs and selfies with Thursday Night Anarchy’s biggest star.

“What are you even doing all the way out here, chica?”

“Well…”

Robyn gestures towards the busted hoopty.

“I’m on my way to Relentless, but my damn car broke down!”

“Well why don’t you hop along with us, Chica! We all bought front-row tickets to watch the biggest wrestling show of the year.”

Wow, those are expensive. How’d you all afford that?

When El Chapo got arrested we raided his police and took our share of the dough! And we’re spending most of it on wrestling merchandise and tickets, and of course gas for our trucks!

Oh, yeah, I guess that makes sense.

So come on, ride with us, Chica! We’ll make sure you get there just in time to beat that rapist pedophile’s ass!

LSM looks towards the cartel pushers, then back towards the trunk of the car. She chuckles to herself before turning back to her newfound fans.

You know what? That sounds like an excellent idea. Let’s fucking go amigos!

The cartel boys fire off gunshots into the air excitedly as LSM hops into the back of one of their trucks and starts pounding on the top of it, telling the driver to get here to Hollywood Studios as fast as he can!




Aaaaaaannnnnnnddddddd tttthhhheeeeennnnnnnn……..





We cut to a scene of LSM sitting next to the beach in southern California, wearing a red, white, and green bikini as she sips on a margarita from the comforts of a pool chair. We can only see one side of her face until LSM turns towards the camera. That’s when we see that iconic face paint. She takes one last sip of the margarita she is legally too young to drink before she places it on a nearby table.

Is this how you want to see me, amigo? Is this what you want to look at when the lights go out and you get to that beating?

LSM theatrically gestures towards her bikini-clad body as she stays rested comfortably in her pool chair.

Well that’s too bad, Micheal Graves, because losers like you can never get with superstars like me. When it comes to talent you are washed up, but when it comes to hygiene you haven’t been washed up since 2017! I’d say you’re ‘over the hill’, but frankly, I don’t think you’re in good enough shape to be running up and over any kind of hills soon. The only thing that’s getting run over tomorrow night, Micheal, is YOU- and the kind of neckbeard insolence you so fiendishly champion.

LSM looks at the camera with a snarl across her rose-glossed lips.

You want to compare who’s had the better 2022? You must be the one buying all those drogas off mi padre now, because there’s no way you’re winning that debate!

Your 2022 has been a joke of missed opportunity after missed opportunity. I’ve been seizing new opportunities every month, every week in 2022! Your biggest claim to fame this year is that you annoyed Vinnie Lane enough to get booked in a squash match for the universal championship. That’s not groundbreaking, that’s not anything to brag about: that’s just page 1 out of my old man’s playbook- and it kinda looks like you’ve been stealing his audibles and formations ever since he beat you for that ‘Goldi’ back in January. But me? My biggest claim to fame this year could be a dozen things. Was it captaining a War Games team? Was it becoming a 2-time Anarchy Champion? Was it pinning Thunder Knuckles for one of the top belts in the federation? It’s hard to say. Everyone has a different ‘favorite El-Es-Em’ moment this year, because there’s just been so many of them!

Whatever my top achievement is this year, it’s not going to be beating Micheal Graves tomorrow night, because that’s already a given! I’m the rising star, I’m the next face of this company. Micheal Graves is the disgusting skidmark Vinnie Lane wishes he could just forget. It’s fitting that Gravy ripped off the Nightmare series for this match- because just like in all those movies, this fight can only end one way:

With our beautiful heroine defeating the disgusting pedophile. That’s how every Nightmare movie ends, and it’s how this match is going to end, too!

Micheal Graves lucha style is as unoriginal as his promo style, amigo. He fights like every other nasty rudo has before: he’s ‘X-treme’, he’s ‘hardcore’, he’s been ‘Charlie Nickles lite’ for the last two years. Now he wants to be the knockoff Krueger? It’s no sweat off my back. I’ll knock out this knockoff with no second thoughts. I’ll tap-out this loser who’s trying to tap-in to everyone else’s character strategies.

Micheal Graves wants LSM? Well tomorrow night he’s going to get her- now let’s see what he can do with it!

LSM glares into the camera before silently winking and standing up out of her chair. As our bikini-clad icon turns to leave the scene the camera finally fades to black.]]> <![CDATA[Eventualities]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44602 Fri, 23 Sep 2022 23:58:05 -0700 Ned Kaye]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44602


“Why have you come here?” The Custodian spoke, his slight smirk barely illuminated by the sole source of light dangling above the two. Ned stared at him, his expression unchanging from a stoic disgust.

Dr. Dante Cormack was the true name of the man- no, the unfeeling entity in front of him. He seemed well-suited with this kind of captivity, maintaining an aura of authority and control despite his situation being obviously disadvantageous. That was the scope of this man, of the mind behind The Chameleon project. Even with a brave face, the casual condescension in The Custodian sent chills down Ned's spine. Every nerve in his body told him to run far away from this man. He was already locked away and out of his life. But he thought of Darcy. She stood up to this guy on more than one occasion for Ned's sake, he could sure as hell do it for his own.

“I'm here for closure. I've been holding onto a lot and it's time to cut out the things that I don't need. I need the people around me. The people who care about me. But you? I never needed you, Dante.”

The Custodian shrugged slightly, peering through Ned's words with an inhuman expertise.

“Certainly, you could have come to that conclusion without speaking a word to my face, TC-01. And yet, you've found yourself here. You need something from me.”

“You're right,” Ned conceded, switching his gaze to the table, the presence of Dr. Cormack already beginning to overwhelm him, “I need answers. I need to know why.”

“I believe I have already fully stated the particulars of my desires for The Chameleon project. How emotionally and mentally weak we allow others to be, when one's strengths and weaknesses could be easily slipped into and out of. How no one human should need be trapped by something so nebulous as the self.”

Almost fiercely, Ned looked up, annoyance plain on his face.

“You know damn well that's not what I mean.”

“Then elucidate me,” The Custodian responded with a knowing grin.

“A few months ago, someone put Darcy and I into the old simulation chamber. We managed to get out, but I realized very quickly that it wasn't about locking us in there to cause brain damage... it was to get me back on the drug, so to speak. I know how addictive and real those simulations felt... how comfortable they were. I also know that you were absolutely behind that. I want to know why.”

The Custodian softly chuckled for a deliberate moment prior to shifting back in his seat.

“Certainly, you do not think me all powerful. You're not foolish, TC-01. Somewhere in that brain of yours, you must realize that I haven't a chance of influencing you to come here, nor operating any of the equipment that The Facility utilized.”

“Stop calling me TC-01. I am not your experiment. Not anymore.”

“And yet you came back without me lifting a finger to bring you here.”

Ned stayed silent, finding it hard to formulate what he wanted to say to the bastard in front of him.

“I am able to plainly read you, TC-01. It's quite simple to recognize that desire in you to break off the chains that tie you to this singular identity. You know what you are, truly. Despite every utterance from your jaw being otherwise, you long for the ability to step out of your skin and into another suit once more. I can hardly blame you. This form does not suit you, TC-01. It never did.”

In a single motion, Ned stood up and slapped The Custodian clear across the face, leaving a read mark on his cheek. The door opened suddenly behind Ned as a guard shouted out at him.

“Step away from the prisoner! Do not move!”

Stretching his jaw somewhat, The Custodian called out, “It was really nothing. I would prefer my acquaintance stay for a moment longer. They won't do anything of the sort again. Is that not right?”

“I won't,” Ned said quietly, sitting down. Sighing, the guard left once more, keeping a closer eye on things. Once he had left, Kaye spoke once more.

“You're right. I do want to slip back into a facade and wear it for as long as possible, but it isn't any of the ones you prepared for me. When I was younger, I formulated an idea of what the perfect me was and I dubbed it-”

“The Notorious One, correct?”

“Right. But here's the thing, I can't be that. I can't be some superhuman, perfect version of me is. I can only be me and that's why I'm here. That, and to confirm one thing. One thing you told me without mentioning it at all.”

“And what precisely is that?”

Ned smirked as he leaned over slightly, “You have a partner on the outside. And I'm going to stop whoever the hell that is and when that's done, I won't have to worry about you and your garbage anymore. I have real things to care about other than your make-believe little worlds, Dante. So, there isn't going to be a next time we meet. I'm done with you and everything you represent in my life.”

The Custodian shook his head in a disappointed manner that felt far too premeditated for comfort, “So be it, “Ned.” It really is quite a waste, though.”


“The only thing that's a waste is any time spent going to see that asshole,” Darcy quipped. Ned rolled his eyes a bit, but still laughed a bit involuntarily.

“Yeah, maybe so, but I feel... I dunno... good's something you could call it after that?”

“Geez, Ned, get a hobby or something. There's gotta be better ways to feel good.”

Ned nodded, ultimately agreeing with her assessment. Her sister was only a few weeks away from actually getting discharged and being able to spend some time at home again, but Ned was still going to miss this hospital waiting room. He had spent so much time with Darcy in here, that it kinda felt like a home in itself, oddly chilly atmosphere and all.

“Is it true about that one thing, though..?” Darcy asked, a little uncharacteristically.

“About what exactly?”

“You know... that you were thinking about cutting people out... cutting me out...?”

Ned somewhat shamefully looked away from her trying to concentrate on one of the walls of the waiting room before just admitting to it.

“Yeah... I did. I thought it might make things easier for a moment, but then... I felt differently.”

“Any reason why?” Her expression was soft and slightly sweet, her eyes appearing ever so slightly larger behind her glass as Ned gave her a light smile, enjoying the view for a passing moment.

“Nothing in particular.”

“Oh, what a copout!” She nudged his arm with her shoulder, “C'mon, you can at least think of some valid reason in that concussed noggin o' yours!”

“Nah,” Ned almost exhaled the sound, accepting her barrage of nudging, “I don't think I need to.”

“Well, you're still gonna have to just go out there and talk to the people in your life and build those bridges and you could use a trusty second eye to those situations... maybe someone who needs a cool job after a bunch of crazy life shit?” Darcy hinted at in transparent manner.

“What, like Cashe? I think he's got better stuff to do.”

“Oh fuck off, you know I meant me!”

“Nooooo. No way,” Ned responded with “utter shock.”

“See, that's how I know you're concussed. Anyway, would you be willing to have me hang around for maybe a little longer.”

“I don't know,” Ned replied, “you are very pointed and I'm half-certain you only want the position to call me names.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny,” Darcy confirmed.

Ned mulled it over for a little longer before nodding and sitting up a bit.

“Sure.”

“Wait, really?!” Darcy was a little taken aback that he agreed even though she mentioned the idea initially.

“Yeah. It sounds... new.”


“What does Relentless mean?”

“I'm not trying to give you a boring best man's speech with some Oxford Dictionary definition. I'm asking because I feel fairly certain that we know damn well what it means to all of us. The biggest show in the XWF. A three-day battering of blood, sweat, tears, passion and the gritting of teeth as violent, glorious professional wrestling of the highest caliber encompasses the world. The place where history and possibility meet and become reality. Some of the greatest matches in the history of our entire sport have happened under this banner and matches we are incapable of dreaming of will happen under it just the same. It is bigger than any one wrestler, than any one night or match could ever hope to. But you're incapable of recognizing that Vaughn. Of accepting or honoring it in any genuine fashion. You are so many of the things I despise about the wrestling industry. For you, it's all a business, a game where numbers go up and the only power that really matters past your ability to lie and cheat your way to victory is the power of attorney. I'd say you make me sick, but the simple fact is that you're a pale reflection of the kinds of people who really sicken me. Put simply, you are not talented or inspired enough to make me ill.”

“Which is a damn shame because you're not bad, Peter, you're just fucking lazy. Sure, you work harder than somebody like Thunder Knuckles, but that's only because the bar was set so far below sea-level, that even drowning in your bureaucratic bullshit you're still well up above his level. But it isn't an accomplishment. You have all the potential to be another James Raven, to be another Centurion, but you'd rather be Chris Page's armrest. That's not champion shit. That's not even wrestler shit. It's more reminiscent of American Psycho businessman behavior than it is of any athlete and who's really surprised by that? You are the most corporate champion I've seen in my tenure in the XWF and you're even bad at that considering you chose the wrong damn corporation! You won the biggest prize in our sport, the title I have been eyeing for my entire life and what did you use it for? To massage the ego of your boss?! Relentless doesn't describe you Vaughn, but Shameless sure fucking might.”

“Not one man outside of our 16th Universal Champion has done whatever they can to make sure this company looks as morally bankrupt as they do except maybe you. Because you are man to be bought and sold. You are a marketable plush as much as you are anything else in life and the simple fact is that I'm not. I've had a marketable nickname my whole career and I am giving it up for now. Because the simple fact is that I do not need to be some product or talking head. I only need and want to be me. Saturday night isn't just a moment where we do battle in a hall of our histories, it's where I let go of the past, Peter. I get to do something you never wanted to do: I get to choose my future. Nothing is written in stone or destined to be. It is simply those who are willing to make it and those who are not. And despite your lofty accomplishments, you don't have the will, the way, or the want that I do.”

“I'm Ned Kaye. You know my name and at Relentless I will show you why the two are synonyms for one another because I have been through hell and high water and tragedy and pain and doubt and the will to stop living, let alone stop wrestling. And all of a sudden, you think you're gonna get in my way and stop me? Chris Page couldn't keep me down, The Engineer couldn't keep me down, and not even Shawn Warstein could keep me down. All of them said something to the effect of me not being up to snuff, but tell me where the fuck those three are. And you think you're gonna be the one that puts me out for good? Peter, you were lucky to lose to me standing up, don't get ahead of yourself. The Trilogy is walking out of Relentless looking like the Kings that came before us. And the beautiful part in all of it is that this match gets to be the most brutal and violent display of the entire show. I don't just get to embody the XWF in opposition to you, I get to embrace that first letter with open arms. You had a nice time with title, Peter, but the weight of your crumbling little empire is about to all topple over you. And by the end of it you and everyone who shares your cowardly sensibilities will know one thing:”

“The XWF is my home and your bullshit is not welcome.”

“No notoriety. No shedding skin. No nicknames. It's just Ned Kaye you're facing Saturday, Vaughn. Don't say I didn't warn you.”]]>


“Why have you come here?” The Custodian spoke, his slight smirk barely illuminated by the sole source of light dangling above the two. Ned stared at him, his expression unchanging from a stoic disgust.

Dr. Dante Cormack was the true name of the man- no, the unfeeling entity in front of him. He seemed well-suited with this kind of captivity, maintaining an aura of authority and control despite his situation being obviously disadvantageous. That was the scope of this man, of the mind behind The Chameleon project. Even with a brave face, the casual condescension in The Custodian sent chills down Ned's spine. Every nerve in his body told him to run far away from this man. He was already locked away and out of his life. But he thought of Darcy. She stood up to this guy on more than one occasion for Ned's sake, he could sure as hell do it for his own.

“I'm here for closure. I've been holding onto a lot and it's time to cut out the things that I don't need. I need the people around me. The people who care about me. But you? I never needed you, Dante.”

The Custodian shrugged slightly, peering through Ned's words with an inhuman expertise.

“Certainly, you could have come to that conclusion without speaking a word to my face, TC-01. And yet, you've found yourself here. You need something from me.”

“You're right,” Ned conceded, switching his gaze to the table, the presence of Dr. Cormack already beginning to overwhelm him, “I need answers. I need to know why.”

“I believe I have already fully stated the particulars of my desires for The Chameleon project. How emotionally and mentally weak we allow others to be, when one's strengths and weaknesses could be easily slipped into and out of. How no one human should need be trapped by something so nebulous as the self.”

Almost fiercely, Ned looked up, annoyance plain on his face.

“You know damn well that's not what I mean.”

“Then elucidate me,” The Custodian responded with a knowing grin.

“A few months ago, someone put Darcy and I into the old simulation chamber. We managed to get out, but I realized very quickly that it wasn't about locking us in there to cause brain damage... it was to get me back on the drug, so to speak. I know how addictive and real those simulations felt... how comfortable they were. I also know that you were absolutely behind that. I want to know why.”

The Custodian softly chuckled for a deliberate moment prior to shifting back in his seat.

“Certainly, you do not think me all powerful. You're not foolish, TC-01. Somewhere in that brain of yours, you must realize that I haven't a chance of influencing you to come here, nor operating any of the equipment that The Facility utilized.”

“Stop calling me TC-01. I am not your experiment. Not anymore.”

“And yet you came back without me lifting a finger to bring you here.”

Ned stayed silent, finding it hard to formulate what he wanted to say to the bastard in front of him.

“I am able to plainly read you, TC-01. It's quite simple to recognize that desire in you to break off the chains that tie you to this singular identity. You know what you are, truly. Despite every utterance from your jaw being otherwise, you long for the ability to step out of your skin and into another suit once more. I can hardly blame you. This form does not suit you, TC-01. It never did.”

In a single motion, Ned stood up and slapped The Custodian clear across the face, leaving a read mark on his cheek. The door opened suddenly behind Ned as a guard shouted out at him.

“Step away from the prisoner! Do not move!”

Stretching his jaw somewhat, The Custodian called out, “It was really nothing. I would prefer my acquaintance stay for a moment longer. They won't do anything of the sort again. Is that not right?”

“I won't,” Ned said quietly, sitting down. Sighing, the guard left once more, keeping a closer eye on things. Once he had left, Kaye spoke once more.

“You're right. I do want to slip back into a facade and wear it for as long as possible, but it isn't any of the ones you prepared for me. When I was younger, I formulated an idea of what the perfect me was and I dubbed it-”

“The Notorious One, correct?”

“Right. But here's the thing, I can't be that. I can't be some superhuman, perfect version of me is. I can only be me and that's why I'm here. That, and to confirm one thing. One thing you told me without mentioning it at all.”

“And what precisely is that?”

Ned smirked as he leaned over slightly, “You have a partner on the outside. And I'm going to stop whoever the hell that is and when that's done, I won't have to worry about you and your garbage anymore. I have real things to care about other than your make-believe little worlds, Dante. So, there isn't going to be a next time we meet. I'm done with you and everything you represent in my life.”

The Custodian shook his head in a disappointed manner that felt far too premeditated for comfort, “So be it, “Ned.” It really is quite a waste, though.”


“The only thing that's a waste is any time spent going to see that asshole,” Darcy quipped. Ned rolled his eyes a bit, but still laughed a bit involuntarily.

“Yeah, maybe so, but I feel... I dunno... good's something you could call it after that?”

“Geez, Ned, get a hobby or something. There's gotta be better ways to feel good.”

Ned nodded, ultimately agreeing with her assessment. Her sister was only a few weeks away from actually getting discharged and being able to spend some time at home again, but Ned was still going to miss this hospital waiting room. He had spent so much time with Darcy in here, that it kinda felt like a home in itself, oddly chilly atmosphere and all.

“Is it true about that one thing, though..?” Darcy asked, a little uncharacteristically.

“About what exactly?”

“You know... that you were thinking about cutting people out... cutting me out...?”

Ned somewhat shamefully looked away from her trying to concentrate on one of the walls of the waiting room before just admitting to it.

“Yeah... I did. I thought it might make things easier for a moment, but then... I felt differently.”

“Any reason why?” Her expression was soft and slightly sweet, her eyes appearing ever so slightly larger behind her glass as Ned gave her a light smile, enjoying the view for a passing moment.

“Nothing in particular.”

“Oh, what a copout!” She nudged his arm with her shoulder, “C'mon, you can at least think of some valid reason in that concussed noggin o' yours!”

“Nah,” Ned almost exhaled the sound, accepting her barrage of nudging, “I don't think I need to.”

“Well, you're still gonna have to just go out there and talk to the people in your life and build those bridges and you could use a trusty second eye to those situations... maybe someone who needs a cool job after a bunch of crazy life shit?” Darcy hinted at in transparent manner.

“What, like Cashe? I think he's got better stuff to do.”

“Oh fuck off, you know I meant me!”

“Nooooo. No way,” Ned responded with “utter shock.”

“See, that's how I know you're concussed. Anyway, would you be willing to have me hang around for maybe a little longer.”

“I don't know,” Ned replied, “you are very pointed and I'm half-certain you only want the position to call me names.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny,” Darcy confirmed.

Ned mulled it over for a little longer before nodding and sitting up a bit.

“Sure.”

“Wait, really?!” Darcy was a little taken aback that he agreed even though she mentioned the idea initially.

“Yeah. It sounds... new.”


“What does Relentless mean?”

“I'm not trying to give you a boring best man's speech with some Oxford Dictionary definition. I'm asking because I feel fairly certain that we know damn well what it means to all of us. The biggest show in the XWF. A three-day battering of blood, sweat, tears, passion and the gritting of teeth as violent, glorious professional wrestling of the highest caliber encompasses the world. The place where history and possibility meet and become reality. Some of the greatest matches in the history of our entire sport have happened under this banner and matches we are incapable of dreaming of will happen under it just the same. It is bigger than any one wrestler, than any one night or match could ever hope to. But you're incapable of recognizing that Vaughn. Of accepting or honoring it in any genuine fashion. You are so many of the things I despise about the wrestling industry. For you, it's all a business, a game where numbers go up and the only power that really matters past your ability to lie and cheat your way to victory is the power of attorney. I'd say you make me sick, but the simple fact is that you're a pale reflection of the kinds of people who really sicken me. Put simply, you are not talented or inspired enough to make me ill.”

“Which is a damn shame because you're not bad, Peter, you're just fucking lazy. Sure, you work harder than somebody like Thunder Knuckles, but that's only because the bar was set so far below sea-level, that even drowning in your bureaucratic bullshit you're still well up above his level. But it isn't an accomplishment. You have all the potential to be another James Raven, to be another Centurion, but you'd rather be Chris Page's armrest. That's not champion shit. That's not even wrestler shit. It's more reminiscent of American Psycho businessman behavior than it is of any athlete and who's really surprised by that? You are the most corporate champion I've seen in my tenure in the XWF and you're even bad at that considering you chose the wrong damn corporation! You won the biggest prize in our sport, the title I have been eyeing for my entire life and what did you use it for? To massage the ego of your boss?! Relentless doesn't describe you Vaughn, but Shameless sure fucking might.”

“Not one man outside of our 16th Universal Champion has done whatever they can to make sure this company looks as morally bankrupt as they do except maybe you. Because you are man to be bought and sold. You are a marketable plush as much as you are anything else in life and the simple fact is that I'm not. I've had a marketable nickname my whole career and I am giving it up for now. Because the simple fact is that I do not need to be some product or talking head. I only need and want to be me. Saturday night isn't just a moment where we do battle in a hall of our histories, it's where I let go of the past, Peter. I get to do something you never wanted to do: I get to choose my future. Nothing is written in stone or destined to be. It is simply those who are willing to make it and those who are not. And despite your lofty accomplishments, you don't have the will, the way, or the want that I do.”

“I'm Ned Kaye. You know my name and at Relentless I will show you why the two are synonyms for one another because I have been through hell and high water and tragedy and pain and doubt and the will to stop living, let alone stop wrestling. And all of a sudden, you think you're gonna get in my way and stop me? Chris Page couldn't keep me down, The Engineer couldn't keep me down, and not even Shawn Warstein could keep me down. All of them said something to the effect of me not being up to snuff, but tell me where the fuck those three are. And you think you're gonna be the one that puts me out for good? Peter, you were lucky to lose to me standing up, don't get ahead of yourself. The Trilogy is walking out of Relentless looking like the Kings that came before us. And the beautiful part in all of it is that this match gets to be the most brutal and violent display of the entire show. I don't just get to embody the XWF in opposition to you, I get to embrace that first letter with open arms. You had a nice time with title, Peter, but the weight of your crumbling little empire is about to all topple over you. And by the end of it you and everyone who shares your cowardly sensibilities will know one thing:”

“The XWF is my home and your bullshit is not welcome.”

“No notoriety. No shedding skin. No nicknames. It's just Ned Kaye you're facing Saturday, Vaughn. Don't say I didn't warn you.”]]> <![CDATA[Kevin Sorbo]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44604 Fri, 23 Sep 2022 23:54:19 -0700 James Raven]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44604 A thin beam of sunlight invades through a crack in the curtains, offering a fresh morning glow to the otherwise darkened master bedroom of our heroes. James Raven lays fast asleep, Atara curled up in his arms with her head on his chest as it rises and falls rhythmically. His end table is decorated with a small silver football which sits near his charging cell phone, engraved with the logo of the soon-to-be Super Bowl LVII champion Buffalo Bills. It was a gift from his son, Tyler, and one that he cherished.

On the opposite side of the bed, for those wondering, Atara’s side table is decorated with an alabaster statue of a nude Pan, the Greek God of the wild, playing his pan flute while stomping through the forest with a comically large and engorged penis. It was not a gift from anybody. She bought it for herself, because she liked it.

The beam of sunlight grows stronger, powering through the narrow opening in the curtains and landing on the recently married couple just as James’ cell phone begins to vibrate with his morning alarm.

His eyes flutter open, moving down to Atara before glancing anywhere else. He blinks a few times, grunting softly as he forces himself awake, and he kisses the side of her forehead, waiting for her to move herself closer to him before hugging her tight and rolling her back over to her side of the bed in one subtle movement without waking.

Expert level intimacy. Thank you, Ross Geller.

He rolls away from The Goddess, turning over to grab his cell phone and silence the alarm. He swings his feet over the edge of the bed, resting them on the carpet as he rubs his eyes with a thumb and forefinger and looks up across his room…

… directly into the camera.

JAMES RAVEN
What the FU-?!?!

He slaps his hand over his own mouth, turning quickly to make sure he hasn't woken Atara, then turns back to the lens and releases his lips to finish his very important earlier sentiment:

JAMES RAVEN
What the FUCK?!?!

He stands up and makes his way across the floor to the camera, his expression equal parts anger and confusion.

JAMES RAVEN
What are you guys doing in our bedroom?
PRODUCER (Off Camera)
… uh, James… the reality show…
JAMES RAVEN
Yeah, but this is our bedroom! We were asleep! What can you possibly hope to get out of this?
PRODUCER (O.C.)
B-roll? Transitions? This could be a great little opening for the episode; “two love birds, waking up in each other's arms”. It was beautiful. We could throw some filters on it and work it into the opening or something. We ran it past Atty last night, I swear.

James looks at the off-camera producer, his expression suddenly thoughtful.

JAMES RAVEN
… that checks out. There’s no other reason she would have let me sleep with any clothes on…

He turns away from the camera, pacing a few steps towards the bed before stopping and turning back.
JAMES RAVEN
Alright. I’m sorry. It was just… surprising. That’s all. You have to admit, this feels SLIGHTLY invasive.

There’s a long silence.

PRODUCER (O.C.)
We didn’t think it would be a big deal. You’re in the wrestling business, James. Don’t you have stuff like this in your promos all the time?

James shakes his head.

JAMES RAVEN
Nah, this feels different. The cameras for promos are small, subtle… it’s like they’re not even there, and then when someone says something mean about you, you pretend the camera WASN’T there and that they’ve crossed some sort of line by mentioning it even though you put it out there… it’s a whole schtick. There’s nothing subtle about any of this.

James reaches down and grabs the camera from its mount, spinning it around on the crew who all duck their faces quickly to maintain their anonymity.

JAMES RAVEN
There’s eleven of you! In my bedroom, while I sleep! Is that necessary? Do you really need TWO gaffers in here right now? Why is there a script supervisor? It’s a reality show, there’s no dialogue… and once more, I was asleep! Oh… oh come on… that guy in the corner isn’t even working, he’s watching something on his phone! What is he watching?!

PRODUCER (O.C.)
Back to the Future. He’s been watching since we got in here.

James sets the camera back down on the mount, seemingly calmer about the entire situation.

JAMES RAVEN
I can't even be mad. That's a great flick.
PRODUCER (O.C.)
It really is.

James makes his way back to the bed, sitting down and placing a reassuring hand gently on Ataras hip as she continues to sleep through all of this peacefully and unbothered. He just wanted to touch her hip.

PRODUCER (O.C.)
Sorry, James. Subtlety. I get it, I’ll be more subtle with things moving forward. Just take all the time you need to wake up, we can scrap this entire bedroom opening, and we’ll get started downstairs whenever you’re ready.

James nods his head appreciatively.
JAMES RAVEN
Thank you. It’s fine. Use the footage if you can, I guess… it was… it was just a lot to process before I’d even turned the light on.

PRODUCER (O.C.)
Oh. Want us to help with that?

There’s a loud click as one of the crew members hits the power to the lighting rigs that have been assembled in the corners of the room. Massive bulbs flare to life, washing out the room and blinding everyone inside.

JAMES RAVEN
God damn it!

Atara continues to sleep peacefully.

PRODUCER (O.C.)
… subtlety. Sorry…
JAMES RAVEN
… fuck me…

She mumbles from her slumber.

ATARA RAVEN
K.

LADIES AND GENTLEMAN
ITS
[Image: ZtnuEvT.png]
STARRING
James Raven
Atara Raven
Tyler Raven
Ismini Raven
and
Kevin Sorbo as Kevin Sorbo
PRODUCED BY
Ravens Nest Entertainment
DIRECTED BY
Michael J. Fox
The camera suddenly shakes violently. Yikes.

We cut to the backyard where the entire family is enjoying the day. Atara sits on an ornate bench under the shade of a large fir tree, holding her daughter Ismini in her arms and beaming warmly down on her.

James and Tyler stand on a patch of pavement a few dozen yards away, an old and battered skateboard in James’ hands. Tyler looks at it and shakes his head dismissively.

TYLER
Sooo… why do you think that thing can help you win at Relentless?
JAMES
Well, it’s not like I’m in a real match, right? It’s more of a race.
TYLER
So you’re not fighting?

James shakes his head.

JAMES
Oh no, I’m going to punch Bam Miller in his big stupid face. But ALSO it’s kind of a race. So, like, this could help me right? It helped Marty McFly outrun Biff.

TYLER
Dad, you don’t HAVE to do Back to the Future stuff just because everyone else is. You can just do something different and win the match.

Tyler takes the skateboard from his father and tosses it into the grass. He turns and walks away, making his way over to Atara and Ismini to join them in the shade of the fir tree. Atara smiles at him as he approaches, and James watches in stunned silence as he walks away in stunned silence.

JAMES
Hey, I DID do something different! Kevin Sorbo is here! Televisions Hercules! He wasn’t even IN Back to the Future!

The camera pulls out to a wider shot, revealing an aged Kevin Sorbo standing a bit behind The People’s GOAT. Kevin Sorbo holds his arms folded across his chest, and nods in agreement.

KEVIN SORBO
… why AM I here though?

James spins and shrugs at Kevin, a guilty expression on his face.

JAMES
Full disclosure… it WAS supposed to be a Back to the Future bit, and you were going to be Crispin Glover… but honestly, that guy’s really weird and I’m not sure how I feel bringing him around my children. Besides, Atty already nailed the whole parody thing, so I just pulled a name out of a hat and, well, Lucy Lawless wasn’t available so they sent me you.

James turns away from the man that once played a bar patron in a 1992 episode of Cheers entitled “Licence to Hill”.


Cut to Kevin Sorbo sitting alone in a small confessional room, speaking directly into the camera.

KEVIN SORBO
I’m not going to lie, I felt like that whole exchange was pretty insulting, but I could use the work so I didn’t say anything. Hey, don’t look at me like that. Hercules was a long time ago, and the residual checks I get for The Santa Suit are about thirty-seven cents a year, so…

His gaze falls slowly to the floor, and he sighs deeply.
KEVIN SORBO
I’m pretty disappointed, though. I really thought they were bringing me here to be in some sort of Back to the Future thing… I love those movies… I wonder how Michael J. Fox is doing these days?

The camera shakes violently again. Double yikes.


James makes his way away from Kevin Sorbo and crosses the grass to join his family. He calls out to Tyler, eager to get him involved in some sort of shenanigans, but his son has already sprawled out on the grass at Atara’s feet like the XWF Universal champion does on every twitter post.

JAMES
Come on, Tyler. Let’s go get our hands on a copy of Grays Sports Almanac, and it can tell us who to bet on so we get rich or something. That’ll be fun!
TYLER
We’re already rich.
JAMES
I’M rich, Tyler.

Atara raises her hand.
ATARA
I, also, am rich.

James nods his head in agreement. He looks back at Tyler.

JAMES
Even Kevin Sorbo over there used to be rich, but you… not rich.

Tyler rolls over lazily in the grass, like Robbie Bourbon sunning himself. That would have been funnier if he was still built like a Walrus.

TYLER
Well, why do we need that stupid book? It’ll just say “bet on the Bills”.

James has no argument to that one. It’s a solid point.


Cut back to the confessional booth, but this time the stool is empty.
PRODUCER (O.C.)
Where is she? Can someone go get her?

We cut back to the yard.


Atara looks into the camera, a surprised look on her face.

ATARA
Oh, I’m sorry Dove. You’re waiting on me?

She bobs her head towards Ismini, asleep in her arms.

ATARA
I’m a little busy right now. Can you just cut in some more footage of me dancing around the house or something? I feel like you have plenty of that.

JAMES
Plenty.

Atara shoots him a look.

ATARA
You’ve never complained about it.

He nods in agreement.

JAMES
I watch for reasons I won't discuss in front of my son.


[Image: YvT8Z3s.gif]


We cut to Tyler Raven staring into the confessional camera, shaking his head.

TYLER
I’m 12, not dumb. He’s talking about her butt.

We cut to Kevin Sorbo on the stool.

KEVIN SORBO
Also her boobs. He probably looks at her boobs.

We cut to James Raven on the confessional hot seat, his eyebrows arched in shock.

JAMES
They said what? I was talking about her personality. Respectfully.


James throws his hands up in defeat and turns to walk away, but Atara catches his eye and motions to the seat next to her on the bench. He softens.

ATARA
Sit, my dear. Enjoy the day with us. You’ve been going non stop, whether it’s WGWF or managing the details for Themis Palastera, whether it’s Ravens Nest or Bam Miller… you don’t have to put this much work into finding a hook. It’s the XWF, Vinnie Lane has gotten by without doing work for years now.

He sighs and shrugs his shoulders.

JAMES
But it’s Relentless…

She looks at him, challenging his stubbornness.

ATARA
Really? Do you REALLY want to spend the day trying to think of Christopher Lloyd jokes and wondering how to reference Johnny B Goode as many times as possible to make Theo happy?

He thinks about it honestly.

JAMES
No, no I really don’t. What the fuck kind of match did they stick me in, anyways? They can’t just let me beat the hell out of the guy to handle my business, I’ve got to climb a clocktower and hook up a car battery to my nipples or something.
ATARA
They definitely didn’t say anything about that. You’re still paranoid about Shane . The bad man can’t hurt you anymore. The rules to this are actually pretty straightforward, James. You have to send Marty back to 1985 and save the world, or get electrocuted and probably die. Don’t overthink it.

James just shakes his head.

TYLER
Somewhere in there you’ll have to punch Bam Miller in his stupid ugly face.
Kevin Sorbo approaches the group.

KEVIN SORBO
Hey guys, I don’t mean to interrupt family time but I really need to go to the bathroom.
JAMES
Tyler, take Kevin Sorbo for a walk.
TYLER
Awww man! I don’t wanna!
ATARA
Tyler, don’t argue with your father when he’s upset about the XWF. Take Kevin Sorbo so he can go to the bathroom.

Tyler pushes himself up off the grass in a huff and stomps across the yard, away from Atara, James and Ismini.

TYLER
Come on, Kevin Sorbo, let's go.

Televisions Hercules bounds after him. James collapses on the bench next to Atara, and she positions herself to lean back against his arm and rest her head on his shoulder.

JAMES
It’s a stupid stipulation.
ATARA
Of course it is.
JAMES
And Bam Miller is an arrogant piece of shit.
ATARA
Of course he is.

They sit quietly. Her presence and touch soothes him. Finally she asks him a simple question.

ATARA
Does going back feel like going home?
JAMES
Of course it does.


James sits alone in the confessional seat.

PRODUCER (O.C.)
Introduce yourself to the camera, please.

JAMES
Is that a joke?

PRODUCER (O.C.)
Just standard when we shoot a show like this. We do it with everyone, but we may not even use it. Just go ahead and give us a little introduction, you never know if it’ll be helpful to have in editing.

JAMES
Alright, fine. My name is James Raven.

PRODUCER (O.C.)
We need a little bit more than that.

JAMES
My name is James Raven, and I’m one of the stars of this show. If you don’t know, why are you watching?

PRODUCER (O.C.)
Come on, man. Give us something, here. We’ve all heard you give some great intros before, and sure, Most of the people watching this will probably already know who you are… but every time is SOMEBODY'S first time seeing you. Turn on the charm for them. If not for them, do it for the XWF fans that are excited to see you come back for the members of the locker room who want to see the GOAT.

JAMES
Oh Christ. You’re really going to make me do this… ok, here we go…

PRODUCER (O.C.)
For the hundredth time?

JAMES
Fuck off. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, support animals and unticketed vagrants in attendance… allow me to reintroduce myself… my name is James Raven, but you may know me as The Peoples G.O.A.T., the GM of the WGWF, or your mom's favorite wrestler. I am the most famous set of abs in professional wrestling, more Hall of Fame‘s under my belt than most wrestlers have divorces, and so many world titles that I got bored of chasing them and left them for the rest of you mooks. I am the husband of the goddess, the father of the future, and the icon that half of your favorite superstars hope stays away forever. I am the Bam Miller slayer. I’m also very, very modest.

James winks at the camera.

JAMES
There. Better?

PRODUCER (O.C.)
That’s great.

JAMES
Now what?

PRODUCER (O.C.)
Now? Just talk. You mentioned Bam Miller, and XWF will probably be a big topic for the episode since you’re going back. What do you have to say to him?

JAMES
What do I have to say to Bam Miller? Pretty much the same thing I always had to say to him, nothing. He instigated this entire thing, not me. I was happily minding my own business, managing Ataras sisters in their tag team run and taking in a few XWF shows as a fan when I could make it… I never had a word for the guy, let alone a negative one. I never so much as glanced in his direction, let alone sideways. He has this warped idea of what my relationship with the XWF is, like, he thinks I’m showing up to use them for hype and publicity of some kind or steal food off his plate. I never asked for XWF reporters to shove a microphone in my face or turn the cameras on me, and I have made it a point to stay out of the affairs of the people on this roster when it hasn’t directly affected me or my family. I never took a booking away from him, I never stopped him from performing or cashing a paycheck, but this arrogant little fuck wants to act like I have shown up to a company I don’t belong in as some sort of personal slide against him. As some sort of attack.
Maybe he’s just naïve and doesn’t know about everything that I’ve done in that company. Or maybe he has a limitless ego and believes he’s far more important in this hierarchy than he actually is. Either way, if anyone is going to tell me that I don’t belong at an XWF show anymore or that my behaviour is detracting from their product… it sure as shit isn’t going to be him.

JAMES
Not some pansy-assed, cheap-shotting coward that needs to poke the bear because he hasn’t gotten sufficient attention by being mauled yet. Not someone too dumb to realize that the guy he’s accusing of “stealing his spot” is the only reason you even have a fight on the card at the biggest show of the year. Not someone too cowardly to set his ambition on the Universal title, and eyeing an Xtreme belt that I’ve won more times than I can remember. How are you going to openly feel outclassed by the rest of your peers, but run your mouth like you’re going to go toe to toe with a legend?

JAMES
All you had to do was walk the other way when you saw me backstage, or bite your tongue when you were feeling a little salty. Hell, I’d have taken a quick apology after the fact, or maybe a nice fruit basket. Instead, you wanted to act tough. You wanted to drag me back into the ring just so that you could resent me for being there. Fine, Bam. You’ve got me. You’ve got what several of your companies general managers couldn’t; Me, back in the XWF and for the biggest show of the year. The XWF. A company I starred for, that I carried, that I dedicated everything about myself to. That I owned, that I nursed, that I picked off life support.

JAMES
Home. I’m catching flashbacks. Back to the future.

JAMES
Who am I? Allow me to reintroduce myself. I am relentless. I am the XWF. I am professional wrestling; the returning hero, the favourite son.

JAMES
I am the end of Bam Miller.

JAMES
I am James Raven. The Peoples GOAT.

JAMES
Fear me forevermore…

Once more we see Atara and James in their master bedroom, the crews cameras now much more subtly placed. He's staring at something on his phone, and she rolls over to get a better look at his screen. 

He's looking at a picture of himself with the XWF Universal title around his waist.

JAMES
Think I could do it again?
ATTY
There was never a single thing that I thought you couldn't do, Dove.


With that, he sets down his phone and turns out the light, pulling his wife close.

It was something worth thinking about.
]]> A thin beam of sunlight invades through a crack in the curtains, offering a fresh morning glow to the otherwise darkened master bedroom of our heroes. James Raven lays fast asleep, Atara curled up in his arms with her head on his chest as it rises and falls rhythmically. His end table is decorated with a small silver football which sits near his charging cell phone, engraved with the logo of the soon-to-be Super Bowl LVII champion Buffalo Bills. It was a gift from his son, Tyler, and one that he cherished.

On the opposite side of the bed, for those wondering, Atara’s side table is decorated with an alabaster statue of a nude Pan, the Greek God of the wild, playing his pan flute while stomping through the forest with a comically large and engorged penis. It was not a gift from anybody. She bought it for herself, because she liked it.

The beam of sunlight grows stronger, powering through the narrow opening in the curtains and landing on the recently married couple just as James’ cell phone begins to vibrate with his morning alarm.

His eyes flutter open, moving down to Atara before glancing anywhere else. He blinks a few times, grunting softly as he forces himself awake, and he kisses the side of her forehead, waiting for her to move herself closer to him before hugging her tight and rolling her back over to her side of the bed in one subtle movement without waking.

Expert level intimacy. Thank you, Ross Geller.

He rolls away from The Goddess, turning over to grab his cell phone and silence the alarm. He swings his feet over the edge of the bed, resting them on the carpet as he rubs his eyes with a thumb and forefinger and looks up across his room…

… directly into the camera.

JAMES RAVEN
What the FU-?!?!

He slaps his hand over his own mouth, turning quickly to make sure he hasn't woken Atara, then turns back to the lens and releases his lips to finish his very important earlier sentiment:

JAMES RAVEN
What the FUCK?!?!

He stands up and makes his way across the floor to the camera, his expression equal parts anger and confusion.

JAMES RAVEN
What are you guys doing in our bedroom?
PRODUCER (Off Camera)
… uh, James… the reality show…
JAMES RAVEN
Yeah, but this is our bedroom! We were asleep! What can you possibly hope to get out of this?
PRODUCER (O.C.)
B-roll? Transitions? This could be a great little opening for the episode; “two love birds, waking up in each other's arms”. It was beautiful. We could throw some filters on it and work it into the opening or something. We ran it past Atty last night, I swear.

James looks at the off-camera producer, his expression suddenly thoughtful.

JAMES RAVEN
… that checks out. There’s no other reason she would have let me sleep with any clothes on…

He turns away from the camera, pacing a few steps towards the bed before stopping and turning back.
JAMES RAVEN
Alright. I’m sorry. It was just… surprising. That’s all. You have to admit, this feels SLIGHTLY invasive.

There’s a long silence.

PRODUCER (O.C.)
We didn’t think it would be a big deal. You’re in the wrestling business, James. Don’t you have stuff like this in your promos all the time?

James shakes his head.

JAMES RAVEN
Nah, this feels different. The cameras for promos are small, subtle… it’s like they’re not even there, and then when someone says something mean about you, you pretend the camera WASN’T there and that they’ve crossed some sort of line by mentioning it even though you put it out there… it’s a whole schtick. There’s nothing subtle about any of this.

James reaches down and grabs the camera from its mount, spinning it around on the crew who all duck their faces quickly to maintain their anonymity.

JAMES RAVEN
There’s eleven of you! In my bedroom, while I sleep! Is that necessary? Do you really need TWO gaffers in here right now? Why is there a script supervisor? It’s a reality show, there’s no dialogue… and once more, I was asleep! Oh… oh come on… that guy in the corner isn’t even working, he’s watching something on his phone! What is he watching?!

PRODUCER (O.C.)
Back to the Future. He’s been watching since we got in here.

James sets the camera back down on the mount, seemingly calmer about the entire situation.

JAMES RAVEN
I can't even be mad. That's a great flick.
PRODUCER (O.C.)
It really is.

James makes his way back to the bed, sitting down and placing a reassuring hand gently on Ataras hip as she continues to sleep through all of this peacefully and unbothered. He just wanted to touch her hip.

PRODUCER (O.C.)
Sorry, James. Subtlety. I get it, I’ll be more subtle with things moving forward. Just take all the time you need to wake up, we can scrap this entire bedroom opening, and we’ll get started downstairs whenever you’re ready.

James nods his head appreciatively.
JAMES RAVEN
Thank you. It’s fine. Use the footage if you can, I guess… it was… it was just a lot to process before I’d even turned the light on.

PRODUCER (O.C.)
Oh. Want us to help with that?

There’s a loud click as one of the crew members hits the power to the lighting rigs that have been assembled in the corners of the room. Massive bulbs flare to life, washing out the room and blinding everyone inside.

JAMES RAVEN
God damn it!

Atara continues to sleep peacefully.

PRODUCER (O.C.)
… subtlety. Sorry…
JAMES RAVEN
… fuck me…

She mumbles from her slumber.

ATARA RAVEN
K.

LADIES AND GENTLEMAN
ITS
[Image: ZtnuEvT.png]
STARRING
James Raven
Atara Raven
Tyler Raven
Ismini Raven
and
Kevin Sorbo as Kevin Sorbo
PRODUCED BY
Ravens Nest Entertainment
DIRECTED BY
Michael J. Fox
The camera suddenly shakes violently. Yikes.

We cut to the backyard where the entire family is enjoying the day. Atara sits on an ornate bench under the shade of a large fir tree, holding her daughter Ismini in her arms and beaming warmly down on her.

James and Tyler stand on a patch of pavement a few dozen yards away, an old and battered skateboard in James’ hands. Tyler looks at it and shakes his head dismissively.

TYLER
Sooo… why do you think that thing can help you win at Relentless?
JAMES
Well, it’s not like I’m in a real match, right? It’s more of a race.
TYLER
So you’re not fighting?

James shakes his head.

JAMES
Oh no, I’m going to punch Bam Miller in his big stupid face. But ALSO it’s kind of a race. So, like, this could help me right? It helped Marty McFly outrun Biff.

TYLER
Dad, you don’t HAVE to do Back to the Future stuff just because everyone else is. You can just do something different and win the match.

Tyler takes the skateboard from his father and tosses it into the grass. He turns and walks away, making his way over to Atara and Ismini to join them in the shade of the fir tree. Atara smiles at him as he approaches, and James watches in stunned silence as he walks away in stunned silence.

JAMES
Hey, I DID do something different! Kevin Sorbo is here! Televisions Hercules! He wasn’t even IN Back to the Future!

The camera pulls out to a wider shot, revealing an aged Kevin Sorbo standing a bit behind The People’s GOAT. Kevin Sorbo holds his arms folded across his chest, and nods in agreement.

KEVIN SORBO
… why AM I here though?

James spins and shrugs at Kevin, a guilty expression on his face.

JAMES
Full disclosure… it WAS supposed to be a Back to the Future bit, and you were going to be Crispin Glover… but honestly, that guy’s really weird and I’m not sure how I feel bringing him around my children. Besides, Atty already nailed the whole parody thing, so I just pulled a name out of a hat and, well, Lucy Lawless wasn’t available so they sent me you.

James turns away from the man that once played a bar patron in a 1992 episode of Cheers entitled “Licence to Hill”.


Cut to Kevin Sorbo sitting alone in a small confessional room, speaking directly into the camera.

KEVIN SORBO
I’m not going to lie, I felt like that whole exchange was pretty insulting, but I could use the work so I didn’t say anything. Hey, don’t look at me like that. Hercules was a long time ago, and the residual checks I get for The Santa Suit are about thirty-seven cents a year, so…

His gaze falls slowly to the floor, and he sighs deeply.
KEVIN SORBO
I’m pretty disappointed, though. I really thought they were bringing me here to be in some sort of Back to the Future thing… I love those movies… I wonder how Michael J. Fox is doing these days?

The camera shakes violently again. Double yikes.


James makes his way away from Kevin Sorbo and crosses the grass to join his family. He calls out to Tyler, eager to get him involved in some sort of shenanigans, but his son has already sprawled out on the grass at Atara’s feet like the XWF Universal champion does on every twitter post.

JAMES
Come on, Tyler. Let’s go get our hands on a copy of Grays Sports Almanac, and it can tell us who to bet on so we get rich or something. That’ll be fun!
TYLER
We’re already rich.
JAMES
I’M rich, Tyler.

Atara raises her hand.
ATARA
I, also, am rich.

James nods his head in agreement. He looks back at Tyler.

JAMES
Even Kevin Sorbo over there used to be rich, but you… not rich.

Tyler rolls over lazily in the grass, like Robbie Bourbon sunning himself. That would have been funnier if he was still built like a Walrus.

TYLER
Well, why do we need that stupid book? It’ll just say “bet on the Bills”.

James has no argument to that one. It’s a solid point.


Cut back to the confessional booth, but this time the stool is empty.
PRODUCER (O.C.)
Where is she? Can someone go get her?

We cut back to the yard.


Atara looks into the camera, a surprised look on her face.

ATARA
Oh, I’m sorry Dove. You’re waiting on me?

She bobs her head towards Ismini, asleep in her arms.

ATARA
I’m a little busy right now. Can you just cut in some more footage of me dancing around the house or something? I feel like you have plenty of that.

JAMES
Plenty.

Atara shoots him a look.

ATARA
You’ve never complained about it.

He nods in agreement.

JAMES
I watch for reasons I won't discuss in front of my son.


[Image: YvT8Z3s.gif]


We cut to Tyler Raven staring into the confessional camera, shaking his head.

TYLER
I’m 12, not dumb. He’s talking about her butt.

We cut to Kevin Sorbo on the stool.

KEVIN SORBO
Also her boobs. He probably looks at her boobs.

We cut to James Raven on the confessional hot seat, his eyebrows arched in shock.

JAMES
They said what? I was talking about her personality. Respectfully.


James throws his hands up in defeat and turns to walk away, but Atara catches his eye and motions to the seat next to her on the bench. He softens.

ATARA
Sit, my dear. Enjoy the day with us. You’ve been going non stop, whether it’s WGWF or managing the details for Themis Palastera, whether it’s Ravens Nest or Bam Miller… you don’t have to put this much work into finding a hook. It’s the XWF, Vinnie Lane has gotten by without doing work for years now.

He sighs and shrugs his shoulders.

JAMES
But it’s Relentless…

She looks at him, challenging his stubbornness.

ATARA
Really? Do you REALLY want to spend the day trying to think of Christopher Lloyd jokes and wondering how to reference Johnny B Goode as many times as possible to make Theo happy?

He thinks about it honestly.

JAMES
No, no I really don’t. What the fuck kind of match did they stick me in, anyways? They can’t just let me beat the hell out of the guy to handle my business, I’ve got to climb a clocktower and hook up a car battery to my nipples or something.
ATARA
They definitely didn’t say anything about that. You’re still paranoid about Shane . The bad man can’t hurt you anymore. The rules to this are actually pretty straightforward, James. You have to send Marty back to 1985 and save the world, or get electrocuted and probably die. Don’t overthink it.

James just shakes his head.

TYLER
Somewhere in there you’ll have to punch Bam Miller in his stupid ugly face.
Kevin Sorbo approaches the group.

KEVIN SORBO
Hey guys, I don’t mean to interrupt family time but I really need to go to the bathroom.
JAMES
Tyler, take Kevin Sorbo for a walk.
TYLER
Awww man! I don’t wanna!
ATARA
Tyler, don’t argue with your father when he’s upset about the XWF. Take Kevin Sorbo so he can go to the bathroom.

Tyler pushes himself up off the grass in a huff and stomps across the yard, away from Atara, James and Ismini.

TYLER
Come on, Kevin Sorbo, let's go.

Televisions Hercules bounds after him. James collapses on the bench next to Atara, and she positions herself to lean back against his arm and rest her head on his shoulder.

JAMES
It’s a stupid stipulation.
ATARA
Of course it is.
JAMES
And Bam Miller is an arrogant piece of shit.
ATARA
Of course he is.

They sit quietly. Her presence and touch soothes him. Finally she asks him a simple question.

ATARA
Does going back feel like going home?
JAMES
Of course it does.


James sits alone in the confessional seat.

PRODUCER (O.C.)
Introduce yourself to the camera, please.

JAMES
Is that a joke?

PRODUCER (O.C.)
Just standard when we shoot a show like this. We do it with everyone, but we may not even use it. Just go ahead and give us a little introduction, you never know if it’ll be helpful to have in editing.

JAMES
Alright, fine. My name is James Raven.

PRODUCER (O.C.)
We need a little bit more than that.

JAMES
My name is James Raven, and I’m one of the stars of this show. If you don’t know, why are you watching?

PRODUCER (O.C.)
Come on, man. Give us something, here. We’ve all heard you give some great intros before, and sure, Most of the people watching this will probably already know who you are… but every time is SOMEBODY'S first time seeing you. Turn on the charm for them. If not for them, do it for the XWF fans that are excited to see you come back for the members of the locker room who want to see the GOAT.

JAMES
Oh Christ. You’re really going to make me do this… ok, here we go…

PRODUCER (O.C.)
For the hundredth time?

JAMES
Fuck off. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, support animals and unticketed vagrants in attendance… allow me to reintroduce myself… my name is James Raven, but you may know me as The Peoples G.O.A.T., the GM of the WGWF, or your mom's favorite wrestler. I am the most famous set of abs in professional wrestling, more Hall of Fame‘s under my belt than most wrestlers have divorces, and so many world titles that I got bored of chasing them and left them for the rest of you mooks. I am the husband of the goddess, the father of the future, and the icon that half of your favorite superstars hope stays away forever. I am the Bam Miller slayer. I’m also very, very modest.

James winks at the camera.

JAMES
There. Better?

PRODUCER (O.C.)
That’s great.

JAMES
Now what?

PRODUCER (O.C.)
Now? Just talk. You mentioned Bam Miller, and XWF will probably be a big topic for the episode since you’re going back. What do you have to say to him?

JAMES
What do I have to say to Bam Miller? Pretty much the same thing I always had to say to him, nothing. He instigated this entire thing, not me. I was happily minding my own business, managing Ataras sisters in their tag team run and taking in a few XWF shows as a fan when I could make it… I never had a word for the guy, let alone a negative one. I never so much as glanced in his direction, let alone sideways. He has this warped idea of what my relationship with the XWF is, like, he thinks I’m showing up to use them for hype and publicity of some kind or steal food off his plate. I never asked for XWF reporters to shove a microphone in my face or turn the cameras on me, and I have made it a point to stay out of the affairs of the people on this roster when it hasn’t directly affected me or my family. I never took a booking away from him, I never stopped him from performing or cashing a paycheck, but this arrogant little fuck wants to act like I have shown up to a company I don’t belong in as some sort of personal slide against him. As some sort of attack.
Maybe he’s just naïve and doesn’t know about everything that I’ve done in that company. Or maybe he has a limitless ego and believes he’s far more important in this hierarchy than he actually is. Either way, if anyone is going to tell me that I don’t belong at an XWF show anymore or that my behaviour is detracting from their product… it sure as shit isn’t going to be him.

JAMES
Not some pansy-assed, cheap-shotting coward that needs to poke the bear because he hasn’t gotten sufficient attention by being mauled yet. Not someone too dumb to realize that the guy he’s accusing of “stealing his spot” is the only reason you even have a fight on the card at the biggest show of the year. Not someone too cowardly to set his ambition on the Universal title, and eyeing an Xtreme belt that I’ve won more times than I can remember. How are you going to openly feel outclassed by the rest of your peers, but run your mouth like you’re going to go toe to toe with a legend?

JAMES
All you had to do was walk the other way when you saw me backstage, or bite your tongue when you were feeling a little salty. Hell, I’d have taken a quick apology after the fact, or maybe a nice fruit basket. Instead, you wanted to act tough. You wanted to drag me back into the ring just so that you could resent me for being there. Fine, Bam. You’ve got me. You’ve got what several of your companies general managers couldn’t; Me, back in the XWF and for the biggest show of the year. The XWF. A company I starred for, that I carried, that I dedicated everything about myself to. That I owned, that I nursed, that I picked off life support.

JAMES
Home. I’m catching flashbacks. Back to the future.

JAMES
Who am I? Allow me to reintroduce myself. I am relentless. I am the XWF. I am professional wrestling; the returning hero, the favourite son.

JAMES
I am the end of Bam Miller.

JAMES
I am James Raven. The Peoples GOAT.

JAMES
Fear me forevermore…

Once more we see Atara and James in their master bedroom, the crews cameras now much more subtly placed. He's staring at something on his phone, and she rolls over to get a better look at his screen. 

He's looking at a picture of himself with the XWF Universal title around his waist.

JAMES
Think I could do it again?
ATTY
There was never a single thing that I thought you couldn't do, Dove.


With that, he sets down his phone and turns out the light, pulling his wife close.

It was something worth thinking about.
]]> <![CDATA[Connections Through Time, P3]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44603 Fri, 23 Sep 2022 23:39:02 -0700 Peter Vaughn]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44603


The Road So Far:

A Secret War Is Brewing, P1

A Secret War Is Brewing, P2

A Secret War Is Brewing, P3

Civil (Servants) War, P1

Civil (Servants) War, P2

Civil (Servants) War, P3

Connections Through Time, P1

Connections Through Time, P2



[Image: executive-summary.jpg]

Time has always been relative to Peter Vaughn. But it's nothing like it's been over the past 24 hours.

Three versions of Peter Vaughn found themselves stuck in an apparent far future, when the United States of America had been apparently wiped off the face of the Earth. One Vaughn was still a teenager, with no grasp of the greatness... and darkness... ahead of him. A second was from our time, a man working to lead an organization he never wanted, while also fighting to retain the Supercontinental Title from the newest threat, Ned Kaye. The third was from the future, where he had been pursuing a nemesis, Bill Sykes, for over twenty years.

It's clear that Sykes is at least partially responsible for the time jumps that the Peter Vaughn Trifecta have dealt with. But there are other factors in play, including one that left a time machine in the future for them to use to return to the past. The machine brought the three of them to 2008, the younger Vaughn's year, which caused him to immediately pass out. The other two Vaughns soon realized where they were, spying on a clueless teenage Vaughn as he worked on the floors of his father's apartment building.

The two had a bigger surprise, though, with an older, damaged Bill Sykes showed up as well, seemingly intent to kill the younger Vaughn... which would end the lives of both older Vaughns in the process. It was a moment where any hesitation would have ended in disaster. Fortunately, one thing Peter Vaughn is known for, at any age, is his willingness to dive right in.~



2008 - The Past

~As Sykes takes aim, pointing the laser straight down the hallway, both Vaughns immediately leap into action. The present Vaughn dives forward, throwing a shoulder into Sykes, while the older Vaughn snaps into a leg sweep, taking Sykes' leg out from under him. Sykes falls backwards, the 'phaser' discharging upwards into the ceiling panel. The sound is loud, but since the younger Vaughn has headphones in, he doesn't react, continuing his work as his father approaches him from behind. Not seeing this, present Vaughn has already dived onto Sykes, smashing away at his hand in order to knock the weapon away.~

Bill Sykes: Get... OFF ME!!!

~Sykes reaches out and grabs the present Vaughn's arm, stunningly throwing him against a wall. A servo can be heard under the sleeve, showing that it's not just Sykes' eye that's been modified. The older Vaughn runs in with an attempt at a punt kick, but Sykes avoids it, grabbing hold of him and sending the older Vaughn careening into the present Vaughn!!!!~

Older Vaughn: YAAARRRRGGGHHH!!!!

Present Vaughn: NOOOOOOOOO!!!!

~The two men collide... and nothing happens. They both look at their arms, then at each other, before realizing that everything is okay. In the meantime, Sykes has moved away from them, scrambling for the phaser. He picks it up, again aiming around the hall towards the group at the end. We can see that Vaughn and his father have been joined by a much younger, healthier-looking Bill Sykes. They're talking about the buffer, not hearing the commotion down the hall. Who knew the buffer was actually that noisy at the time? The older Sykes takes aim, not wanting to shoot unless he has a clear shot.~

Bill Sykes: Move, damnit! Move!!

~The older Vaughn starts forward, but the present Vaughn grabs him by the sleeve. The older Vaughn looks back, stunned, as the present Vaughn watches the older Sykes' actions.~

Present Vaughn: You're not trying to kill us, are you? And you could shoot my father right now if you wanted... you're aiming at yourself, aren't you?

Bill Sykes: Don't stop me, Peter. This has to happen. I have to end this all now, before it all begins!

Older Vaughn: What the hell, Sykes!

Present Vaughn: Killing yourself isn't going to solve anything. Believe me, I know.

Bill Sykes: You haven't seen it. So many dead... so much destruction... and it's all my fault... I've tried, Peter, again and again, I've tried... I've gone back to talk to myself... I've corrected paths the best I could... but it's all a mess now... the only way out of this... is to stop me from moving forward at all...

~Sykes' grip tightens, as the teenage Vaughn can be seen readjusting the buffer as he prepares to begin moving away from Sykes and Vaughn's father. The opportunity is suddenly clear. He steadies himself...~

Present Vaughn: If you die, I die, Bill.

Bill Sykes: I... what? I don't understand...

Present Vaughn: Have you forgotten, Bill? Before you turned traitor, you saved my ass a few times. I would have been left for dead in Mexico the first time I encountered the Maintenance Mafia. And what about the whole Clone Wars saga? You were a big part of the reason I got back in my true body and out of the virtual world...

~The older Vaughn starts, having his own blast from the past.~

Older Vaughn: Shitdick, I forgot about that Clone Wars run. That asshat version of me, he really becomes a problem in the future.

Bill Sykes: I... I don't... but if I don't die...

Present Vaughn: There's got to be another way, Bill. We can talk it over. But we need to start fixing things starting now...

~Sykes tenses up once more... and then slowly lowers the weapon, sighing deeply. Both Vaughns seem to nod to each other, still prepared to jump in. That's when a singing teenage Vaughn suddenly makes the turn, coming their direction.~

Peter Vaughn: "When I grow up, be on TV, people know me, be on magazines..."

~Vaughn is really into the music, not noticing the three men in front of him at first. After a second, though, he stops short, looking puzzled at the group there. His eyes widen... as the present Vaughn suddenly twists the time machine, sending a blast into the teenage Vaughn. He disappears from sight, as the older Vaughn gasps.~

Older Vaughn: What the FRACK did you just do??

Present Vaughn: I sent him to the future. I just pressed the return button, it sent him back to the exact coordinates he arrived at last time. Well, I mean... damn, time travel is confusing. The point is, we knew he went to the future to meet us, and now he will.

Older Vaughn: But... but then what about...

Present Vaughn: Hey, this timeline's safe, Gramps. Remember, we brought our teenage friend with us. I'm betting that, since he passed out, he's going to forget a lot of what happened here, and maybe think about it as some sort of dream...

Bill Sykes: Yes... that's how it would work. It's the reason I couldn't talk to myself in my own time.

~For a moment, the older Vaughn looks relieved, but then he shakes his head.~

Older Vaughn: So that's one loop fixed. What about the rest? How do we prevent 300 million deaths, Bill?

Bill Sykes: Without killing me? ... I really don't know...

~The older Bill Sykes slumps against the wall, shaking his head, as we can hear Vaughn's father and the younger Sykes having their argument down the hall.~



Sometimes it takes more than one move to come out victorious. But hey, you still want to take that step in the right direction, right?

I know Neddie badly wants to make that move. After all, he needs to justify how much he loves the XWF and loves the fans here. But let's talk about ol' Ned for a second, and what he's done in the past several months to 'earn' this title opportunity. Let's see...

He got his ass kicked at War Games, failing as a team captain. Okay, that was a month ago, but I'm sure he loved the fans by going to house shows or something. Oh, let's see, the next match before that was... oh, when we had the meeting of your testicles. Hmmm, did I hit you that hard that you couldn't wrestle for a month afterwards? I honestly didn't know I did that much damage. I'm rather impressed with myself.

Before that... well, you've got to go all the way back to May, when he once again got his ass kicked, this time by Bobby Bourbon. Hey, Bourbon's a respectable loss, and I guess getting fucked by a rancor will make anyone not want to wrestle for a while. Man, your lower extremities have been taking a wallop this year, haven't they?

But in all seriousness, Ned, I have to ask... if you truly love the sport like you say you do, if you honestly love the fans and want to give them everything they want to see... why are you only wrestling less than once a month? Is your body that broken down from so many disappointments in your beloved XWF? No, I don't think that's it. I think you can still go.

No, I think it's actually because you're lying to yourself. In your subconsciousness, you worry that you're going to start losing this supposed respect you've built up with the entire locker room. You're thinking, what if I keep losing? What will I do to save myself if they don't still put me as a poster boy of the XWF? What if they actually make me retire?

I'd say that's a valid concern, really, especially if you keep wrestling so sporadically the way you are. Sure, the fans love it when a 'legend' returns, but if you're doing it over and over and over, yeah, they WILL grow tired of seeing you fail. I mean, there are going to be some at Relentless who want to root for you, but at the end of the night, they're just going to be so disheartened at the fact that you couldn't manage it once again.

So let me give you a little advice, Kale. Man-to-man, frank advice. Sign yourself up for a match on the next Warfare or Savage. Prepare yourself to jump off this self-fulfilling death loop and start wrestling again. Hey, ask for Tommy Wish, he'd be a good opponent for you to start turning things around again.

You've got to stop being a part-timer. Either get back in that ring or retire your damn ass. Your choice.



2008 - The Past

~The argument down the hall finishes, and both men depart. Thankfully, they head the opposite direction, avoiding another potential crisis. The older Vaughn sighs and turns back, nodding to the present Vaughn. They both turn to Sykes, who is still down on the floor, holding his head.~

Older Vaughn: Alright, Sykes, time to pull yourself together. We need to figure this out.

Present Vaughn: I don't know how long we can stay here, as our younger self could wake up at any moment. So think, man. What can we do to prevent this?

Bill Sykes: I'm telling you, I DON'T KNOW!! I started this all out with good intentions. Back in that Mafia lab, you... were killed, Peter, along with several staff members. Bernardo got a good laugh out of that one, killing so many top leaders of the Coalition. I survived, but I was faced with what I had done. Bernardo and I met up in Venice later that year... he didn't leave.

~Sykes shakes his head, as both Vaughns listen intently to the story, wondering how things turned out the way they did.~

Bill Sykes: I felt such guilt afterwards, Peter. I always just wanted to follow your father's wishes. He never wanted you in the Coalition. But Edward decided to bring you in after your father passed away, and, well, there was nothing I could do about it. And then, you became the Head Custodian, and suddenly I realized that I was being left behind by someone who wasn't even supposed to be there... and I broke for a while. It cost me everything.

Present Vaughn: You know I leaned heavily on you for advice. You were my right-hand man.

Bill Sykes: Maybe, but it didn't feel that way. But when things started to go sideways with the Mafia, I kept trying to find a way out. And then, in that raid... well, obviously things were different. Those who knew the truth had passed on, leaving me as the successor to the Head Custodianship. My dream, right when I no longer wanted it. But I put it to use, Peter. I worked hard for years and years, building up the device that the Mafia had started. In the end, I found out exactly how to get it working... and it was all to make my way back to that night.

~Sykes sits up, remembering vividly how things had gone that night... both times... ~

Bill Sykes: When I went back, I found a way to disable the explosives without being caught. I protected you, Luke, and everyone else in the room, not caring how it ended up for me. I watched, then, as you went after me... attacking me. Doing your best to kill me.

~Surprised, the present Vaughn looks back at his older self, raising his eyebrows. The older Vaughn can only shrug, as he's not really that shocked.~

Present Vaughn: I guess I was pretty pissed... but wait, if I killed you...

Bill Sykes: You didn't, but it was a near thing. I was still watching, so I set off a smoke bomb that allowed my younger self to make his escape... at least, most of me...

~Sykes taps at his robotic eye with a grim smile.~

Bill Sykes: I thought I'd done enough, and I went back to my time... only to find that everything was falling apart. The world was crumbling. And I was becoming unstable, as I no longer belonged to the timeline I was in. I quickly realized that someone in that room who was supposed to die had, instead, made things worse. But I didn't know who. So I tried to go back again, seeking another option. But with every change I made, things just got worse. There was even the radiological explosion that took the lives of so many.

Older Vaughn: The 300 million?

Bill Sykes: Well, no, it was less than that. At least, I think it was. It all gets a little hazy the further I go. Eventually, I decided that the only way to fix this... was a hard reset. But now that you've talked me out of that, Peter... I don't know where to go from here.

Present Vaughn: Hmmm... well, actually, I think the "hard reset" might still be on the table...

Older Vaughn: We're not letting him kill himself. It's not going down like that.

Present Vaughn: I'm not even sure he COULD kill himself, as that loop would be downright insane. After all, if you kill yourself, you're not there, so you can't kill yourself, which means you're back, and it goes on and on...

Bill Sykes: I... I didn't even think of that. But then, what CAN we do?

Present Vaughn: The only move I see available to us: we go to my time... and wipe out the time machine from Sykes' access.

Older Vaughn: Wait, but wouldn't that just cause the same time loop?

Present Vaughn: Not necessarily. After all, we're talking data, not a person, and there are ways around that. Also, you're going to have to be the one to do it, Gramps. I won't be able to stay conscious once we get there.

Older Vaughn: So... so I'll be replacing your version there as well?

~The present Vaughn pats the older Vaughn on the shoulder, no longer worried about touching them. Both of them still wince in slight anticipation, then let out relieved breaths when nothing happens.~

Present Vaughn: I have faith in you. You're the most 'experienced', right? So let's go over the plan...

~The two Vaughns and a weary-looking Sykes begin to talk things out, as we cut away.~



I love it when a plan comes together.

That being said, it feels like Neddy really has a different view of how I've planned things out for myself in the XWF. Once again, he's acting like my signing on with Chronic Chris Page Enterprises is some dirty act that shows how I'm willing to sell myself for money. I just don't get the reasoning, really. I mean, aren't you trying to get what you think you deserve as well? Isn't there a little bit there that's about the money? I mean, you've saddled yourself up with the boss, Cashe, and Kido, haven't you? Wasn't at least part of that to ensure a bigger paycheck for yourself and your family?

Are we really that different in that regard?

And while you paint yourself as Theo's guy but not someone who will do what he says, you also try to paint me the exact opposite, with zero evidence to the contrary. I've accepted some jobs that Page has found me, including some exclusive matches on big events. But I've also turned some down that didn't work for me. I've refused to show up for some other CCPE guys, if I didn't think it was worth my time. So if you want to look at it as a "loyalty" issue, well, there you go. I respect what Page has done for me, but I'm not moving at the crack of his whip, either.

I mean, seriously, what have I done in the last four months that makes you think I'm a yes man? I've probably given Chris more headaches than most of the others combined. And I'm going to keep doing that, because despite our disagreements, we still seem to be able to improve each other's standings, and that's all that matters to me.

Hey, you know how that goes. It explains how you got this title opportunity despite barely wrestling over the past half year.

So you keep spouting all about your willingness to do things your own way, Nestle. You believe what you want. But no matter how you try to alter what I am, you can't change the fact that I won this title on my own, I defended it on my own, and I'm going to be walking out of Relentless with the championship still around my waist... all... by... myself.

Unless, I mean, someone from CCPE shows up. I can't control their actions, after all. It's a loyalty thing.



2022 - The Present

~We see the view of an apparent garage, where we see various gearheads working on a couple of raised cars. The camera pans past them, through the wall, where we see the hidden Maintenance Mafia computer laboratory. There are five people there, typing away, apparently inputting data into the system. Nobody is paying attention to each other, as a guard walks behind them, holding his semi-automatic weapon. He glances around at each person, then gets closer to the last person, leaning in towards him.~

Older Vaughn: Have you got it yet?

Bill Sykes: Almost there.

~Sykes is trying to keep his face hidden as he works away on the computer, transferring data around. The older Vaughn nods and turns away, walking his designated path, as he checks his watch. He knows the original guard could be regaining consciousness soon. This plan was walking a razor's edge, especially with the present Vaughn laying out cold in a truck outside. If all went well, he'd be found later, confused about everything that had happened. The older Vaughn checks his watch again, pacing as he returns to Sykes.~

Older Vaughn: We're almost out of time.

Bill Sykes: It's okay. I've done what you asked me to, Peter. Well, the younger you, at least...

Older Vaughn: So it's done?

Bill Sykes: Yes. When I come in here in a few minutes... I won't find the file on the time travel device.

Older Vaughn: You think it's going to work? I mean, we're causing a bit of a cross-up in the timeline right now...

Bill Sykes: Don't worry, I think Peter's plan is going to work... and also... I owe you my thanks, Peter. Being able to erase the proof here without being monitored...

Older Vaughn: Your younger self deserves another chance, Bill. But he better not blow it, because I'm still going to be there in the future, waiting for him...

~Sykes laughs to himself, looking up at Vaughn with two good eyes. The older Vaughn notices the difference, even if Sykes himself doesn't. Suddenly, Sykes begins to disappear from sight, fading away as he continues to smile. The older Vaughn looks around, as nobody else seems to notice the change. Now there are only four programmers left in the room, as a red light begins to flash, and an alarm sounds. The older Vaughn straightens up.~

Older Vaughn: INTRUDERS! BEGIN DELETION PROTOCOL!!

~As the programmers scramble to comply, a grenade comes flying into the room, spraying off a green cloud that begins to knock everyone out in the room. No one, thus, can see that a shield appears to be surrounding the older Vaughn as he pretends to slump to the side, with none of the smoke reaching him. He plays it up, anyways, just in case... ~

Older Vaughn: That... that smells... miinnnntttyyy....

~The older Vaughn then drops to the floor, waiting as the forces of the Custodial Coalition charge into the room. They begin to take stock, with the younger Bill Sykes moving towards the computer, intent to search for information... and try to remove his name, while Luke, outside, is watching. Knowing this can't happen, the older Vaughn inches upwards, aiming the time device... and firing it, enveloping a surprised present Vaughn. He disappears, to go meet his fellow time travelers in the future, even as the rest of the group reacts, shooting back at where they thought the shot came from. But no one else is there, as the older Vaughn disappeared at the same time, returning to his own timeline. The staff scrambles around, launching a search for Peter Vaughn, and eventually finding him woozy on the outside of the building, having gotten out of a vehicle. They took him back to the headquarters for medical treatment, with his top assistant, Bill Sykes, taking charge of his overall well-being.~

~Later on that night, we see Vaughn getting looked after in the medical ward. He angrily pushes away a nurse, trying to get out of bed.~

Peter Vaughn: Damn it, I'm perfectly fine! I have to get out of here, I've got training to do! Relentless is the biggest show of the year, I need to be perfect when I compete there!

Nurse: And how perfect will you be if I'm forced to sedate you and leave you here for the next week?

Peter Vaughn: You... you wouldn't do that.

Nurse: Ask around. I'll do just about anything.

~The nurse walks away, leaving Vaughn to uncomfortably settle himself back into bed. He shakes his head, then takes a deep breath before reaching for his laptop. He drags it over, taking the time to look over his messages. One, in particular, stands out to him.~

Peter Vaughn: Hmm... "Eyes Only"... "Potential New Technology"... interesting. Strange, why does it say "No Sykes"? Well, maybe he's the one who found it and sent it to me, doesn't want his name associated with it. Okay, I know a few people I can talk to, then. I wonder what this device does? Guess we'll find out eventually...

~Vaughn sends off the e-mail to the appropriate people, before looking to his right. It looks like the nurse might have moved on with her rounds, so Vaughn pulls himself up and sneaks to the doorway. He peeks out... and sees her standing there, wiggling a needle back and forth with a smug grin. Vaughn gulps.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, uh, any chance I can get a Coke? Thanks.

~Vaughn quickly shuts the door, rolling his eyes as he reluctantly heads back to the bed once again. We fade out.~



So that about wraps everything up, Neddykins.

No point in continuing to act so noble and "holier-than-thou" anymore.

It's time for us to get into that antique store and beat the shit out of each other.

We both know that your 'proud' attitude will go out the window when we get in there. You're going to become a crazed berserker trying to put me away by any means necessary, and I'm going to stay the insane sociopath who will gladly crack every rib in your chest if it means I retain my title. It's going to be an extremely violent affair, and neither of us will be backing down from using each and every item at our disposal.

In other words, you will truly be just like me.

And yes, I know this is kind of your worst nightmare. You'd rather I was like you, but hey, look on the bright side: I will be, because we're going to be the same. Two warriors with nothing to lose and everything to gain. The only difference, really, Ned, is that I don't know if you have it in you to take that final step towards victory.

Sometimes you've just got to be willing to kill to get what you want.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not looking to score my first Fatality in XWF Kombat. But there are many different ways a person can die, and any of them could be on the table when we face off. Really, I think it's going to be your soul, because you're never going to be the same after Relentless goes off the air. You may never live this down, because you have such a low opinion of me.

As for me, I'll be damn glad to have your name up there with so many who have underestimated my abilities and overestimated my weaknesses. I'm going to be celebrating this victory for a long, long time.

Thank you, Ned, for not being Calypso.

I will never forget this, because it's going to be one of my greatest moments ever in the XWF. So, again, thank you for allowing me to take this from you.

It's going to be a hell of a Plunge.



2042 - The Future

~The camera comes up one more time, as we are now in a darkened building somewhere downtown. There's a bright flash of light... and the older Peter Vaughn appears in the room. He stumbles forward, nearly out of breath, but manages to recover. He slowly moves over to the desk nearby, taking a seat as he pulls the time travel device out of his pocket, staring at it.~

Older Vaughn: So... it seems to have... worked out, after all. Things are... back in order. My mind, though... so fuzzy... so many conflicting memories... but it's all fine... it's all... fine...

~Vaughn reaches to the side, opening a cabinet and pulling out a bottle of brandy. He pours himself a shot, slamming it down. He then turns and looks to the side, at a picture that's sitting there. It shows Vaughn next to Bill Sykes, both men smiling. Vaughn shakes his head.~

Older Vaughn: I'm going to miss you, Bill... man, the temptation is tough. But as you both told me... it has to end here.

~After a second, Vaughn pulls out a phaser weapon from the side of the desk. He carefully aims... and shoots the time travel device, disintegrating it. The device vanishes, never to be used again. Vaughn sighs once more and pours another shot, nodding once to the photo before drinking it. We slowly leave the shot with one more view of the outside... with everything looking very still and peaceful.~

]]>


The Road So Far:

A Secret War Is Brewing, P1

A Secret War Is Brewing, P2

A Secret War Is Brewing, P3

Civil (Servants) War, P1

Civil (Servants) War, P2

Civil (Servants) War, P3

Connections Through Time, P1

Connections Through Time, P2



[Image: executive-summary.jpg]

Time has always been relative to Peter Vaughn. But it's nothing like it's been over the past 24 hours.

Three versions of Peter Vaughn found themselves stuck in an apparent far future, when the United States of America had been apparently wiped off the face of the Earth. One Vaughn was still a teenager, with no grasp of the greatness... and darkness... ahead of him. A second was from our time, a man working to lead an organization he never wanted, while also fighting to retain the Supercontinental Title from the newest threat, Ned Kaye. The third was from the future, where he had been pursuing a nemesis, Bill Sykes, for over twenty years.

It's clear that Sykes is at least partially responsible for the time jumps that the Peter Vaughn Trifecta have dealt with. But there are other factors in play, including one that left a time machine in the future for them to use to return to the past. The machine brought the three of them to 2008, the younger Vaughn's year, which caused him to immediately pass out. The other two Vaughns soon realized where they were, spying on a clueless teenage Vaughn as he worked on the floors of his father's apartment building.

The two had a bigger surprise, though, with an older, damaged Bill Sykes showed up as well, seemingly intent to kill the younger Vaughn... which would end the lives of both older Vaughns in the process. It was a moment where any hesitation would have ended in disaster. Fortunately, one thing Peter Vaughn is known for, at any age, is his willingness to dive right in.~



2008 - The Past

~As Sykes takes aim, pointing the laser straight down the hallway, both Vaughns immediately leap into action. The present Vaughn dives forward, throwing a shoulder into Sykes, while the older Vaughn snaps into a leg sweep, taking Sykes' leg out from under him. Sykes falls backwards, the 'phaser' discharging upwards into the ceiling panel. The sound is loud, but since the younger Vaughn has headphones in, he doesn't react, continuing his work as his father approaches him from behind. Not seeing this, present Vaughn has already dived onto Sykes, smashing away at his hand in order to knock the weapon away.~

Bill Sykes: Get... OFF ME!!!

~Sykes reaches out and grabs the present Vaughn's arm, stunningly throwing him against a wall. A servo can be heard under the sleeve, showing that it's not just Sykes' eye that's been modified. The older Vaughn runs in with an attempt at a punt kick, but Sykes avoids it, grabbing hold of him and sending the older Vaughn careening into the present Vaughn!!!!~

Older Vaughn: YAAARRRRGGGHHH!!!!

Present Vaughn: NOOOOOOOOO!!!!

~The two men collide... and nothing happens. They both look at their arms, then at each other, before realizing that everything is okay. In the meantime, Sykes has moved away from them, scrambling for the phaser. He picks it up, again aiming around the hall towards the group at the end. We can see that Vaughn and his father have been joined by a much younger, healthier-looking Bill Sykes. They're talking about the buffer, not hearing the commotion down the hall. Who knew the buffer was actually that noisy at the time? The older Sykes takes aim, not wanting to shoot unless he has a clear shot.~

Bill Sykes: Move, damnit! Move!!

~The older Vaughn starts forward, but the present Vaughn grabs him by the sleeve. The older Vaughn looks back, stunned, as the present Vaughn watches the older Sykes' actions.~

Present Vaughn: You're not trying to kill us, are you? And you could shoot my father right now if you wanted... you're aiming at yourself, aren't you?

Bill Sykes: Don't stop me, Peter. This has to happen. I have to end this all now, before it all begins!

Older Vaughn: What the hell, Sykes!

Present Vaughn: Killing yourself isn't going to solve anything. Believe me, I know.

Bill Sykes: You haven't seen it. So many dead... so much destruction... and it's all my fault... I've tried, Peter, again and again, I've tried... I've gone back to talk to myself... I've corrected paths the best I could... but it's all a mess now... the only way out of this... is to stop me from moving forward at all...

~Sykes' grip tightens, as the teenage Vaughn can be seen readjusting the buffer as he prepares to begin moving away from Sykes and Vaughn's father. The opportunity is suddenly clear. He steadies himself...~

Present Vaughn: If you die, I die, Bill.

Bill Sykes: I... what? I don't understand...

Present Vaughn: Have you forgotten, Bill? Before you turned traitor, you saved my ass a few times. I would have been left for dead in Mexico the first time I encountered the Maintenance Mafia. And what about the whole Clone Wars saga? You were a big part of the reason I got back in my true body and out of the virtual world...

~The older Vaughn starts, having his own blast from the past.~

Older Vaughn: Shitdick, I forgot about that Clone Wars run. That asshat version of me, he really becomes a problem in the future.

Bill Sykes: I... I don't... but if I don't die...

Present Vaughn: There's got to be another way, Bill. We can talk it over. But we need to start fixing things starting now...

~Sykes tenses up once more... and then slowly lowers the weapon, sighing deeply. Both Vaughns seem to nod to each other, still prepared to jump in. That's when a singing teenage Vaughn suddenly makes the turn, coming their direction.~

Peter Vaughn: "When I grow up, be on TV, people know me, be on magazines..."

~Vaughn is really into the music, not noticing the three men in front of him at first. After a second, though, he stops short, looking puzzled at the group there. His eyes widen... as the present Vaughn suddenly twists the time machine, sending a blast into the teenage Vaughn. He disappears from sight, as the older Vaughn gasps.~

Older Vaughn: What the FRACK did you just do??

Present Vaughn: I sent him to the future. I just pressed the return button, it sent him back to the exact coordinates he arrived at last time. Well, I mean... damn, time travel is confusing. The point is, we knew he went to the future to meet us, and now he will.

Older Vaughn: But... but then what about...

Present Vaughn: Hey, this timeline's safe, Gramps. Remember, we brought our teenage friend with us. I'm betting that, since he passed out, he's going to forget a lot of what happened here, and maybe think about it as some sort of dream...

Bill Sykes: Yes... that's how it would work. It's the reason I couldn't talk to myself in my own time.

~For a moment, the older Vaughn looks relieved, but then he shakes his head.~

Older Vaughn: So that's one loop fixed. What about the rest? How do we prevent 300 million deaths, Bill?

Bill Sykes: Without killing me? ... I really don't know...

~The older Bill Sykes slumps against the wall, shaking his head, as we can hear Vaughn's father and the younger Sykes having their argument down the hall.~



Sometimes it takes more than one move to come out victorious. But hey, you still want to take that step in the right direction, right?

I know Neddie badly wants to make that move. After all, he needs to justify how much he loves the XWF and loves the fans here. But let's talk about ol' Ned for a second, and what he's done in the past several months to 'earn' this title opportunity. Let's see...

He got his ass kicked at War Games, failing as a team captain. Okay, that was a month ago, but I'm sure he loved the fans by going to house shows or something. Oh, let's see, the next match before that was... oh, when we had the meeting of your testicles. Hmmm, did I hit you that hard that you couldn't wrestle for a month afterwards? I honestly didn't know I did that much damage. I'm rather impressed with myself.

Before that... well, you've got to go all the way back to May, when he once again got his ass kicked, this time by Bobby Bourbon. Hey, Bourbon's a respectable loss, and I guess getting fucked by a rancor will make anyone not want to wrestle for a while. Man, your lower extremities have been taking a wallop this year, haven't they?

But in all seriousness, Ned, I have to ask... if you truly love the sport like you say you do, if you honestly love the fans and want to give them everything they want to see... why are you only wrestling less than once a month? Is your body that broken down from so many disappointments in your beloved XWF? No, I don't think that's it. I think you can still go.

No, I think it's actually because you're lying to yourself. In your subconsciousness, you worry that you're going to start losing this supposed respect you've built up with the entire locker room. You're thinking, what if I keep losing? What will I do to save myself if they don't still put me as a poster boy of the XWF? What if they actually make me retire?

I'd say that's a valid concern, really, especially if you keep wrestling so sporadically the way you are. Sure, the fans love it when a 'legend' returns, but if you're doing it over and over and over, yeah, they WILL grow tired of seeing you fail. I mean, there are going to be some at Relentless who want to root for you, but at the end of the night, they're just going to be so disheartened at the fact that you couldn't manage it once again.

So let me give you a little advice, Kale. Man-to-man, frank advice. Sign yourself up for a match on the next Warfare or Savage. Prepare yourself to jump off this self-fulfilling death loop and start wrestling again. Hey, ask for Tommy Wish, he'd be a good opponent for you to start turning things around again.

You've got to stop being a part-timer. Either get back in that ring or retire your damn ass. Your choice.



2008 - The Past

~The argument down the hall finishes, and both men depart. Thankfully, they head the opposite direction, avoiding another potential crisis. The older Vaughn sighs and turns back, nodding to the present Vaughn. They both turn to Sykes, who is still down on the floor, holding his head.~

Older Vaughn: Alright, Sykes, time to pull yourself together. We need to figure this out.

Present Vaughn: I don't know how long we can stay here, as our younger self could wake up at any moment. So think, man. What can we do to prevent this?

Bill Sykes: I'm telling you, I DON'T KNOW!! I started this all out with good intentions. Back in that Mafia lab, you... were killed, Peter, along with several staff members. Bernardo got a good laugh out of that one, killing so many top leaders of the Coalition. I survived, but I was faced with what I had done. Bernardo and I met up in Venice later that year... he didn't leave.

~Sykes shakes his head, as both Vaughns listen intently to the story, wondering how things turned out the way they did.~

Bill Sykes: I felt such guilt afterwards, Peter. I always just wanted to follow your father's wishes. He never wanted you in the Coalition. But Edward decided to bring you in after your father passed away, and, well, there was nothing I could do about it. And then, you became the Head Custodian, and suddenly I realized that I was being left behind by someone who wasn't even supposed to be there... and I broke for a while. It cost me everything.

Present Vaughn: You know I leaned heavily on you for advice. You were my right-hand man.

Bill Sykes: Maybe, but it didn't feel that way. But when things started to go sideways with the Mafia, I kept trying to find a way out. And then, in that raid... well, obviously things were different. Those who knew the truth had passed on, leaving me as the successor to the Head Custodianship. My dream, right when I no longer wanted it. But I put it to use, Peter. I worked hard for years and years, building up the device that the Mafia had started. In the end, I found out exactly how to get it working... and it was all to make my way back to that night.

~Sykes sits up, remembering vividly how things had gone that night... both times... ~

Bill Sykes: When I went back, I found a way to disable the explosives without being caught. I protected you, Luke, and everyone else in the room, not caring how it ended up for me. I watched, then, as you went after me... attacking me. Doing your best to kill me.

~Surprised, the present Vaughn looks back at his older self, raising his eyebrows. The older Vaughn can only shrug, as he's not really that shocked.~

Present Vaughn: I guess I was pretty pissed... but wait, if I killed you...

Bill Sykes: You didn't, but it was a near thing. I was still watching, so I set off a smoke bomb that allowed my younger self to make his escape... at least, most of me...

~Sykes taps at his robotic eye with a grim smile.~

Bill Sykes: I thought I'd done enough, and I went back to my time... only to find that everything was falling apart. The world was crumbling. And I was becoming unstable, as I no longer belonged to the timeline I was in. I quickly realized that someone in that room who was supposed to die had, instead, made things worse. But I didn't know who. So I tried to go back again, seeking another option. But with every change I made, things just got worse. There was even the radiological explosion that took the lives of so many.

Older Vaughn: The 300 million?

Bill Sykes: Well, no, it was less than that. At least, I think it was. It all gets a little hazy the further I go. Eventually, I decided that the only way to fix this... was a hard reset. But now that you've talked me out of that, Peter... I don't know where to go from here.

Present Vaughn: Hmmm... well, actually, I think the "hard reset" might still be on the table...

Older Vaughn: We're not letting him kill himself. It's not going down like that.

Present Vaughn: I'm not even sure he COULD kill himself, as that loop would be downright insane. After all, if you kill yourself, you're not there, so you can't kill yourself, which means you're back, and it goes on and on...

Bill Sykes: I... I didn't even think of that. But then, what CAN we do?

Present Vaughn: The only move I see available to us: we go to my time... and wipe out the time machine from Sykes' access.

Older Vaughn: Wait, but wouldn't that just cause the same time loop?

Present Vaughn: Not necessarily. After all, we're talking data, not a person, and there are ways around that. Also, you're going to have to be the one to do it, Gramps. I won't be able to stay conscious once we get there.

Older Vaughn: So... so I'll be replacing your version there as well?

~The present Vaughn pats the older Vaughn on the shoulder, no longer worried about touching them. Both of them still wince in slight anticipation, then let out relieved breaths when nothing happens.~

Present Vaughn: I have faith in you. You're the most 'experienced', right? So let's go over the plan...

~The two Vaughns and a weary-looking Sykes begin to talk things out, as we cut away.~



I love it when a plan comes together.

That being said, it feels like Neddy really has a different view of how I've planned things out for myself in the XWF. Once again, he's acting like my signing on with Chronic Chris Page Enterprises is some dirty act that shows how I'm willing to sell myself for money. I just don't get the reasoning, really. I mean, aren't you trying to get what you think you deserve as well? Isn't there a little bit there that's about the money? I mean, you've saddled yourself up with the boss, Cashe, and Kido, haven't you? Wasn't at least part of that to ensure a bigger paycheck for yourself and your family?

Are we really that different in that regard?

And while you paint yourself as Theo's guy but not someone who will do what he says, you also try to paint me the exact opposite, with zero evidence to the contrary. I've accepted some jobs that Page has found me, including some exclusive matches on big events. But I've also turned some down that didn't work for me. I've refused to show up for some other CCPE guys, if I didn't think it was worth my time. So if you want to look at it as a "loyalty" issue, well, there you go. I respect what Page has done for me, but I'm not moving at the crack of his whip, either.

I mean, seriously, what have I done in the last four months that makes you think I'm a yes man? I've probably given Chris more headaches than most of the others combined. And I'm going to keep doing that, because despite our disagreements, we still seem to be able to improve each other's standings, and that's all that matters to me.

Hey, you know how that goes. It explains how you got this title opportunity despite barely wrestling over the past half year.

So you keep spouting all about your willingness to do things your own way, Nestle. You believe what you want. But no matter how you try to alter what I am, you can't change the fact that I won this title on my own, I defended it on my own, and I'm going to be walking out of Relentless with the championship still around my waist... all... by... myself.

Unless, I mean, someone from CCPE shows up. I can't control their actions, after all. It's a loyalty thing.



2022 - The Present

~We see the view of an apparent garage, where we see various gearheads working on a couple of raised cars. The camera pans past them, through the wall, where we see the hidden Maintenance Mafia computer laboratory. There are five people there, typing away, apparently inputting data into the system. Nobody is paying attention to each other, as a guard walks behind them, holding his semi-automatic weapon. He glances around at each person, then gets closer to the last person, leaning in towards him.~

Older Vaughn: Have you got it yet?

Bill Sykes: Almost there.

~Sykes is trying to keep his face hidden as he works away on the computer, transferring data around. The older Vaughn nods and turns away, walking his designated path, as he checks his watch. He knows the original guard could be regaining consciousness soon. This plan was walking a razor's edge, especially with the present Vaughn laying out cold in a truck outside. If all went well, he'd be found later, confused about everything that had happened. The older Vaughn checks his watch again, pacing as he returns to Sykes.~

Older Vaughn: We're almost out of time.

Bill Sykes: It's okay. I've done what you asked me to, Peter. Well, the younger you, at least...

Older Vaughn: So it's done?

Bill Sykes: Yes. When I come in here in a few minutes... I won't find the file on the time travel device.

Older Vaughn: You think it's going to work? I mean, we're causing a bit of a cross-up in the timeline right now...

Bill Sykes: Don't worry, I think Peter's plan is going to work... and also... I owe you my thanks, Peter. Being able to erase the proof here without being monitored...

Older Vaughn: Your younger self deserves another chance, Bill. But he better not blow it, because I'm still going to be there in the future, waiting for him...

~Sykes laughs to himself, looking up at Vaughn with two good eyes. The older Vaughn notices the difference, even if Sykes himself doesn't. Suddenly, Sykes begins to disappear from sight, fading away as he continues to smile. The older Vaughn looks around, as nobody else seems to notice the change. Now there are only four programmers left in the room, as a red light begins to flash, and an alarm sounds. The older Vaughn straightens up.~

Older Vaughn: INTRUDERS! BEGIN DELETION PROTOCOL!!

~As the programmers scramble to comply, a grenade comes flying into the room, spraying off a green cloud that begins to knock everyone out in the room. No one, thus, can see that a shield appears to be surrounding the older Vaughn as he pretends to slump to the side, with none of the smoke reaching him. He plays it up, anyways, just in case... ~

Older Vaughn: That... that smells... miinnnntttyyy....

~The older Vaughn then drops to the floor, waiting as the forces of the Custodial Coalition charge into the room. They begin to take stock, with the younger Bill Sykes moving towards the computer, intent to search for information... and try to remove his name, while Luke, outside, is watching. Knowing this can't happen, the older Vaughn inches upwards, aiming the time device... and firing it, enveloping a surprised present Vaughn. He disappears, to go meet his fellow time travelers in the future, even as the rest of the group reacts, shooting back at where they thought the shot came from. But no one else is there, as the older Vaughn disappeared at the same time, returning to his own timeline. The staff scrambles around, launching a search for Peter Vaughn, and eventually finding him woozy on the outside of the building, having gotten out of a vehicle. They took him back to the headquarters for medical treatment, with his top assistant, Bill Sykes, taking charge of his overall well-being.~

~Later on that night, we see Vaughn getting looked after in the medical ward. He angrily pushes away a nurse, trying to get out of bed.~

Peter Vaughn: Damn it, I'm perfectly fine! I have to get out of here, I've got training to do! Relentless is the biggest show of the year, I need to be perfect when I compete there!

Nurse: And how perfect will you be if I'm forced to sedate you and leave you here for the next week?

Peter Vaughn: You... you wouldn't do that.

Nurse: Ask around. I'll do just about anything.

~The nurse walks away, leaving Vaughn to uncomfortably settle himself back into bed. He shakes his head, then takes a deep breath before reaching for his laptop. He drags it over, taking the time to look over his messages. One, in particular, stands out to him.~

Peter Vaughn: Hmm... "Eyes Only"... "Potential New Technology"... interesting. Strange, why does it say "No Sykes"? Well, maybe he's the one who found it and sent it to me, doesn't want his name associated with it. Okay, I know a few people I can talk to, then. I wonder what this device does? Guess we'll find out eventually...

~Vaughn sends off the e-mail to the appropriate people, before looking to his right. It looks like the nurse might have moved on with her rounds, so Vaughn pulls himself up and sneaks to the doorway. He peeks out... and sees her standing there, wiggling a needle back and forth with a smug grin. Vaughn gulps.~

Peter Vaughn: Hey, uh, any chance I can get a Coke? Thanks.

~Vaughn quickly shuts the door, rolling his eyes as he reluctantly heads back to the bed once again. We fade out.~



So that about wraps everything up, Neddykins.

No point in continuing to act so noble and "holier-than-thou" anymore.

It's time for us to get into that antique store and beat the shit out of each other.

We both know that your 'proud' attitude will go out the window when we get in there. You're going to become a crazed berserker trying to put me away by any means necessary, and I'm going to stay the insane sociopath who will gladly crack every rib in your chest if it means I retain my title. It's going to be an extremely violent affair, and neither of us will be backing down from using each and every item at our disposal.

In other words, you will truly be just like me.

And yes, I know this is kind of your worst nightmare. You'd rather I was like you, but hey, look on the bright side: I will be, because we're going to be the same. Two warriors with nothing to lose and everything to gain. The only difference, really, Ned, is that I don't know if you have it in you to take that final step towards victory.

Sometimes you've just got to be willing to kill to get what you want.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not looking to score my first Fatality in XWF Kombat. But there are many different ways a person can die, and any of them could be on the table when we face off. Really, I think it's going to be your soul, because you're never going to be the same after Relentless goes off the air. You may never live this down, because you have such a low opinion of me.

As for me, I'll be damn glad to have your name up there with so many who have underestimated my abilities and overestimated my weaknesses. I'm going to be celebrating this victory for a long, long time.

Thank you, Ned, for not being Calypso.

I will never forget this, because it's going to be one of my greatest moments ever in the XWF. So, again, thank you for allowing me to take this from you.

It's going to be a hell of a Plunge.



2042 - The Future

~The camera comes up one more time, as we are now in a darkened building somewhere downtown. There's a bright flash of light... and the older Peter Vaughn appears in the room. He stumbles forward, nearly out of breath, but manages to recover. He slowly moves over to the desk nearby, taking a seat as he pulls the time travel device out of his pocket, staring at it.~

Older Vaughn: So... it seems to have... worked out, after all. Things are... back in order. My mind, though... so fuzzy... so many conflicting memories... but it's all fine... it's all... fine...

~Vaughn reaches to the side, opening a cabinet and pulling out a bottle of brandy. He pours himself a shot, slamming it down. He then turns and looks to the side, at a picture that's sitting there. It shows Vaughn next to Bill Sykes, both men smiling. Vaughn shakes his head.~

Older Vaughn: I'm going to miss you, Bill... man, the temptation is tough. But as you both told me... it has to end here.

~After a second, Vaughn pulls out a phaser weapon from the side of the desk. He carefully aims... and shoots the time travel device, disintegrating it. The device vanishes, never to be used again. Vaughn sighs once more and pours another shot, nodding once to the photo before drinking it. We slowly leave the shot with one more view of the outside... with everything looking very still and peaceful.~

]]> <![CDATA[Finally! What the actual...]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44601 Fri, 23 Sep 2022 22:17:02 -0700 Atara Raven]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44601

Despite a profanity filled first episode, the success of the first episode of The Ravens was enough for it not to be immediately cancelled. Given the poor opposition it faced it was likely the show could be as vulgar or as mundane as it wanted and still it would be the superior ratings pull on any given time slot. Even though, the producers urged for a little more wholesomeness and so episode 2 opened with Atara sat comfortably in the confessional shot chair. Beaming, the Goddess was all pride and eagerness ready to begin and start by bragging on the man she married.

"Let me tell how amazing my husband is. I mean we know how amazing he is but let me tell you how really amazing he is. So we find out we're having a baby right and we're trying to decide living arrangements because you know at the time we weren't married. I don't even know if it was on the table, I mean for me it was always on the table but you know he had a thing about it with Betsy but that's beside the point."

Animate and expressive as usual, Atara kept on without even seeming to take a breath.

"So anyway, I'm all the way in Greece and he's all the way in the Canada and he's like I'll come to Athens it's just me here and you have your family there and everything. And I'm like no we can't do that you have Tyler, his son, back there. We work primarily in America. I'll come to Canada so he's like ok. You come to Canada.

The scene cuts to a beautiful red brick Edwardian set behind a picturesque ivy covered stone fence. The camera throughs and lays out the house in all it's glory as Atty is heard through voice over still rambling enthusiastically about her husband.

"So he already has place in Toronto but he knows how much Greece means to me, I mean everyone knows being Greek is like my personality or something, but he knows I'm gonna want Ismini to grow up as Greek as possible. He knows even though I won't say it I'm a little torn up about moving away. This man not only finds a Greek Orthodox church for us to go to, but a Greek school, sells his house and buys us this one guess where?"

Pause for dramatic effect.

"Greektown. We moved to Greektown in Toronto. Even the street signs are in Greek. I mean I've still got my...now our place in Plaka and everything. He really is the G.O.A.T and he's gonna beat Bam Miller back into sobriety.

She stops abruptly and looks dead pan into the camera before instantly becoming animated happy rambling Atty again.

He's perfect. We're perfect. I don't even think we've argued ever.....not once."

The scene cuts to earlier footage of an upset Atty in the kitchen with a pleading James Raven insisting her poutine was fine. Atty isn't convinced by her interpretation of his reaction to it. A few seconds of back and forth air before cutting back to Atara in the chair.

"Nope. Not once."

Another cut away to a frantic James Raven nursing one of his vintage motorcycles while aggressively interrogating his wife who's babbling in Greek and begging forgiveness with the help of waterworks airs and then cut backs to Atara again.

Maybe once.

Commercial Break


Goth

Outlast me?

Hate to be the bearer of bad news Goth, but not really, your two pump chump act in the build of our little gig makes it pretty clear you have neither the stamina or mental acuity to back those claims up. Maybe when you were younger but I highly doubt it.

I'm an all day and all nighter Dove, expending just enough energy to make sure I get mine everytime. My minimum beats your maximum.

[Image: X0E1Bm1.gif]

Awww Get It Get It, I don't stop til I get enough. I'm young and sprung and down to get the violence on. Theses hip hop references hitting home Goth? Prolly not because I'm assuming you're just another tone deaf metal head who thinks because he survived a mosh pit he's some kind of hard ass now. Well let me, my dear, educate YOU with some Twitter Acclaimed and universally loved and accepted Atty Facts.

And please pay closer attention this time around than you did when you signed the contract because clearly you didn't understand the assignment before trying to mansplain the intricacies of the wrestling business to me and our opponents.

[Image: cTK8kRk.png]

If you're going to spout off bullshit and call it truth it's best you back it up with evidence. Case in point, you didn't and my profile on the XWF website, the most viewed page of all time fyi, clearly refutes your claim I'm just an extra looking for a little limelight. It clearly details my success in this business and other ventures and shows you're as disconnected from the business as you are from reality.

It shows you're either ill prepared or in denial about my reputation and caving over the pressure of my massive lady dick being bigger than yours.

The only bottom I've ever been is the Bottom Bitch and right now you're just another hoe for me to put back in line for our pimp daddy the XWF.

Validation. For someone who doesn't need it, you spend a lot of time Preeshing on the longetivety of your career as if somehow it validates your belief that experience makes you the overall favorite or most deserving superstar on the roster.

It doesn't. It makes you another bad knee veteran grasping for his last hoorah. You're not getting it at my expense sweetheart. You're going to catch a Judgement of Paris straight to the dome and leave with nothing but broken dreams and a case of CTE. Enjoy retirement and dementia. Gtfo.

Psychology. It's kind of the point of these see saw arguments we do, of spinning the narrative. If you're not trying to give me nerves and make me second guess myself then your a fucking idiot if you think a highly motivated, confidant, focused, talented, hot as fuck, Greek bad bitch named Atara is going to do anything less than your wreck your shit at every turn and bend.

Ask around buddy. Do the research. You want Head Case Atty who gives up and mails it in. You want Butt Hurt Don't Care Atty. You don't mansplain, virtue signal, ignore her as a legitimate threat, or assume she gives a fuck if you'll hit a woman or not because she will definitely curb stomp a man after verbally emasculating him at every chance she gets.

It's what they pay me to do. If you expected me to stroke your ego and ask you to be my friend after the match then we're just reiterating further the amount of delusion you are under.

The Xtreme Title. You can literally go to Preesh's home and drown him in butter and try to pin him whenever you want. Stop crying about the a title shot that you can literally take at any waking moment in any fucking day of the week.

[Image: DCOap1n.gif]

Here's a freebie for you. I lost the Xtreme title in similar fashion as Latina Submission Machine and I'm about win it over the likes of you. Not saying her name doesn't mean you're not a butt hurt bitch that your win over her didn't mean something you could use to validate yourself later.

That last bit. That's a call back to the validation thing. It's a subtle thing that requires being able to read through lines so fuck you on that also.

Moments in life. This is one you'll be able to look back on and say to yourself....

...that Greek bitch fucked me up ngl.

You're Welcome. Kalinikta.


Back from commercial, the footage opens on a irate Atara pacing back forth in the living room Infront of James who's dodging her with his head trying to get a clear view of the television. Atara is on the telephone and speaking Greek with little awareness of the nuisance she is being. A few seconds and we cut away to James Raven in the confessional chair.

"I would say the largest hurdle has been the language barrier. English is her second language, I know little Greek but I'm learning day by day and besides...it can be fun sometimes. I kind of like how she says James with a Z. Zeims...zeims. Yeah I really like that. If she ask, the plural of moose is meese. None of you better ruin that for me.

Seriously don't."

Scene switch to Atty and James in bed both attentive to their respective mobile devices in relative quiet. James nudges Atara.

"Honey, crossword. Need a five letter word for this book. War and...I know it but it slips my mind."

"Wore and Piss."

"I'm sorry?"

"WORE and PISS"

The scene transitions the smirking confessional James then to more recorded footage. The couple are in a furniture store eyeballing dining room sets.

"Are you sure this one has enough seats? What about guest?

"Yes, this one works."

I don't know. Where is Yiayia is going to sit?"

"Ela, she can sheet wherever she wants!"

[Blue]"Well I hope she shits in the toilet.

The scene makes a final transition to Confessional still shitting...sitting...with his devious little smirk.

"See, hours of entertainment."

Commercial Break


Ring Master]

Awwww poor baby. You should have Hufflepuffed a little harder and Ravenclawed some fucking courage to stand on those claims because now I'm just slamming that Gryffindor on those championship hopes and will be Slytherin dat ass come Relentless.

[Image: OloqC5S.png]

Everything is derivative sweety.

Don't come at me with some stealing hardwork bullshit, especially without pointing to an example. My country is the literal go to place for looting ideas of any significant value and is the very foundation of your red white & blue, working man, you can change your stars bullshit philosophy.

It's a Greek standing in that fucking harbour, it's Greek architecture that houses your president, it's Greek wrestling that gave you a fucking career, it's Greek theater at the core of the Hollywood you shamelessly pilfer ideas from in these shit stage plays you call promos.

Shady bitch I may be, but you're hiding under the branches of this Greek Bitch tree waiting for that next piece of fruit to sustain your flavorless, unimaginative, sham of existence. Don't get pissed at me if I drop sour grapes, Dove. and it's makes you sick. Blame the maker who fucked the engineering of your weak digestive system and learn when and how to harvest.

It's my vineyard Dove and you're trespassing. You might not have the time to check for Farmer Atty but best believe Farmer Atty has got time for you and she's coming shotgun in hand to get rid of any vermin hoping for a free meal.

Maybe take your own advice, listen to that little voice telling you you're outmatched and run.

Because while you may not praise The Goddess. She's admired by all for her beauty but it is when she is at her ugliest they love her most.

She is pleasure.

She is pain.

She is life.

She is death.

She is the mother of time.

She is the bringer of Doomsday. Yours is tomorrow.

Atara. Aphrodite. Kali. Paint me how you will, my judgement does not change.

[Image: B4YMnw7.png]


Back from our final commercial break, an episode full of all the shenanigans and wholesomeness that we said wouldn't be the basis of this show as entertained the masses and is winding down in it's final moments. We see the typical black and white night time footage of our couple in bed. The hour is late and the silence of their room is broken with the unmistakable sound of a baby stirring and beginning to wail in hunger.

"It's your turn."

No, I fed her before we came to bed.

No, it's your night. Remember.

No, we were rotating feedings.

No, we are doing alternate nights now.

Since when!

Since Meese

Aaah Malaka! Who told you!

[White]Atty's lips curl with a victorious smile as James starts to get up.

Fine. I'll be shitting in the living room.

S'Agapo.

Roll Credits


Preesh

Jesus Effin Christ Preesh! I thought you had shit the bed with that whole Xavier Lux thing earlier! I'm under enough stress as is you effin dolt. I thought you were dropping this title before the big day like the Jabroni curtain jerking fuck up are, and I was out here sending legitimate competitors to therapy for no reason.

Please, for the love of God, just hold it together for 24 hours and let me take this thing home before you go back burying to B.O.B further into it's ditch of depravity, despair, and dipshitness.

I'll even pay out of pocket for your next round of chicken nuggets and ring rats. I'll even go further and get you a nice plate chicken wings and a burrow at the Velvet Rabbit.

Actual professionally prepared food and girls that shower. Doesn't that sound nice?

Don't eff this up for me, please. I was B.O.B once remember. 

]]>

Despite a profanity filled first episode, the success of the first episode of The Ravens was enough for it not to be immediately cancelled. Given the poor opposition it faced it was likely the show could be as vulgar or as mundane as it wanted and still it would be the superior ratings pull on any given time slot. Even though, the producers urged for a little more wholesomeness and so episode 2 opened with Atara sat comfortably in the confessional shot chair. Beaming, the Goddess was all pride and eagerness ready to begin and start by bragging on the man she married.

"Let me tell how amazing my husband is. I mean we know how amazing he is but let me tell you how really amazing he is. So we find out we're having a baby right and we're trying to decide living arrangements because you know at the time we weren't married. I don't even know if it was on the table, I mean for me it was always on the table but you know he had a thing about it with Betsy but that's beside the point."

Animate and expressive as usual, Atara kept on without even seeming to take a breath.

"So anyway, I'm all the way in Greece and he's all the way in the Canada and he's like I'll come to Athens it's just me here and you have your family there and everything. And I'm like no we can't do that you have Tyler, his son, back there. We work primarily in America. I'll come to Canada so he's like ok. You come to Canada.

The scene cuts to a beautiful red brick Edwardian set behind a picturesque ivy covered stone fence. The camera throughs and lays out the house in all it's glory as Atty is heard through voice over still rambling enthusiastically about her husband.

"So he already has place in Toronto but he knows how much Greece means to me, I mean everyone knows being Greek is like my personality or something, but he knows I'm gonna want Ismini to grow up as Greek as possible. He knows even though I won't say it I'm a little torn up about moving away. This man not only finds a Greek Orthodox church for us to go to, but a Greek school, sells his house and buys us this one guess where?"

Pause for dramatic effect.

"Greektown. We moved to Greektown in Toronto. Even the street signs are in Greek. I mean I've still got my...now our place in Plaka and everything. He really is the G.O.A.T and he's gonna beat Bam Miller back into sobriety.

She stops abruptly and looks dead pan into the camera before instantly becoming animated happy rambling Atty again.

He's perfect. We're perfect. I don't even think we've argued ever.....not once."

The scene cuts to earlier footage of an upset Atty in the kitchen with a pleading James Raven insisting her poutine was fine. Atty isn't convinced by her interpretation of his reaction to it. A few seconds of back and forth air before cutting back to Atara in the chair.

"Nope. Not once."

Another cut away to a frantic James Raven nursing one of his vintage motorcycles while aggressively interrogating his wife who's babbling in Greek and begging forgiveness with the help of waterworks airs and then cut backs to Atara again.

Maybe once.

Commercial Break


Goth

Outlast me?

Hate to be the bearer of bad news Goth, but not really, your two pump chump act in the build of our little gig makes it pretty clear you have neither the stamina or mental acuity to back those claims up. Maybe when you were younger but I highly doubt it.

I'm an all day and all nighter Dove, expending just enough energy to make sure I get mine everytime. My minimum beats your maximum.

[Image: X0E1Bm1.gif]

Awww Get It Get It, I don't stop til I get enough. I'm young and sprung and down to get the violence on. Theses hip hop references hitting home Goth? Prolly not because I'm assuming you're just another tone deaf metal head who thinks because he survived a mosh pit he's some kind of hard ass now. Well let me, my dear, educate YOU with some Twitter Acclaimed and universally loved and accepted Atty Facts.

And please pay closer attention this time around than you did when you signed the contract because clearly you didn't understand the assignment before trying to mansplain the intricacies of the wrestling business to me and our opponents.

[Image: cTK8kRk.png]

If you're going to spout off bullshit and call it truth it's best you back it up with evidence. Case in point, you didn't and my profile on the XWF website, the most viewed page of all time fyi, clearly refutes your claim I'm just an extra looking for a little limelight. It clearly details my success in this business and other ventures and shows you're as disconnected from the business as you are from reality.

It shows you're either ill prepared or in denial about my reputation and caving over the pressure of my massive lady dick being bigger than yours.

The only bottom I've ever been is the Bottom Bitch and right now you're just another hoe for me to put back in line for our pimp daddy the XWF.

Validation. For someone who doesn't need it, you spend a lot of time Preeshing on the longetivety of your career as if somehow it validates your belief that experience makes you the overall favorite or most deserving superstar on the roster.

It doesn't. It makes you another bad knee veteran grasping for his last hoorah. You're not getting it at my expense sweetheart. You're going to catch a Judgement of Paris straight to the dome and leave with nothing but broken dreams and a case of CTE. Enjoy retirement and dementia. Gtfo.

Psychology. It's kind of the point of these see saw arguments we do, of spinning the narrative. If you're not trying to give me nerves and make me second guess myself then your a fucking idiot if you think a highly motivated, confidant, focused, talented, hot as fuck, Greek bad bitch named Atara is going to do anything less than your wreck your shit at every turn and bend.

Ask around buddy. Do the research. You want Head Case Atty who gives up and mails it in. You want Butt Hurt Don't Care Atty. You don't mansplain, virtue signal, ignore her as a legitimate threat, or assume she gives a fuck if you'll hit a woman or not because she will definitely curb stomp a man after verbally emasculating him at every chance she gets.

It's what they pay me to do. If you expected me to stroke your ego and ask you to be my friend after the match then we're just reiterating further the amount of delusion you are under.

The Xtreme Title. You can literally go to Preesh's home and drown him in butter and try to pin him whenever you want. Stop crying about the a title shot that you can literally take at any waking moment in any fucking day of the week.

[Image: DCOap1n.gif]

Here's a freebie for you. I lost the Xtreme title in similar fashion as Latina Submission Machine and I'm about win it over the likes of you. Not saying her name doesn't mean you're not a butt hurt bitch that your win over her didn't mean something you could use to validate yourself later.

That last bit. That's a call back to the validation thing. It's a subtle thing that requires being able to read through lines so fuck you on that also.

Moments in life. This is one you'll be able to look back on and say to yourself....

...that Greek bitch fucked me up ngl.

You're Welcome. Kalinikta.


Back from commercial, the footage opens on a irate Atara pacing back forth in the living room Infront of James who's dodging her with his head trying to get a clear view of the television. Atara is on the telephone and speaking Greek with little awareness of the nuisance she is being. A few seconds and we cut away to James Raven in the confessional chair.

"I would say the largest hurdle has been the language barrier. English is her second language, I know little Greek but I'm learning day by day and besides...it can be fun sometimes. I kind of like how she says James with a Z. Zeims...zeims. Yeah I really like that. If she ask, the plural of moose is meese. None of you better ruin that for me.

Seriously don't."

Scene switch to Atty and James in bed both attentive to their respective mobile devices in relative quiet. James nudges Atara.

"Honey, crossword. Need a five letter word for this book. War and...I know it but it slips my mind."

"Wore and Piss."

"I'm sorry?"

"WORE and PISS"

The scene transitions the smirking confessional James then to more recorded footage. The couple are in a furniture store eyeballing dining room sets.

"Are you sure this one has enough seats? What about guest?

"Yes, this one works."

I don't know. Where is Yiayia is going to sit?"

"Ela, she can sheet wherever she wants!"

[Blue]"Well I hope she shits in the toilet.

The scene makes a final transition to Confessional still shitting...sitting...with his devious little smirk.

"See, hours of entertainment."

Commercial Break


Ring Master]

Awwww poor baby. You should have Hufflepuffed a little harder and Ravenclawed some fucking courage to stand on those claims because now I'm just slamming that Gryffindor on those championship hopes and will be Slytherin dat ass come Relentless.

[Image: OloqC5S.png]

Everything is derivative sweety.

Don't come at me with some stealing hardwork bullshit, especially without pointing to an example. My country is the literal go to place for looting ideas of any significant value and is the very foundation of your red white & blue, working man, you can change your stars bullshit philosophy.

It's a Greek standing in that fucking harbour, it's Greek architecture that houses your president, it's Greek wrestling that gave you a fucking career, it's Greek theater at the core of the Hollywood you shamelessly pilfer ideas from in these shit stage plays you call promos.

Shady bitch I may be, but you're hiding under the branches of this Greek Bitch tree waiting for that next piece of fruit to sustain your flavorless, unimaginative, sham of existence. Don't get pissed at me if I drop sour grapes, Dove. and it's makes you sick. Blame the maker who fucked the engineering of your weak digestive system and learn when and how to harvest.

It's my vineyard Dove and you're trespassing. You might not have the time to check for Farmer Atty but best believe Farmer Atty has got time for you and she's coming shotgun in hand to get rid of any vermin hoping for a free meal.

Maybe take your own advice, listen to that little voice telling you you're outmatched and run.

Because while you may not praise The Goddess. She's admired by all for her beauty but it is when she is at her ugliest they love her most.

She is pleasure.

She is pain.

She is life.

She is death.

She is the mother of time.

She is the bringer of Doomsday. Yours is tomorrow.

Atara. Aphrodite. Kali. Paint me how you will, my judgement does not change.

[Image: B4YMnw7.png]


Back from our final commercial break, an episode full of all the shenanigans and wholesomeness that we said wouldn't be the basis of this show as entertained the masses and is winding down in it's final moments. We see the typical black and white night time footage of our couple in bed. The hour is late and the silence of their room is broken with the unmistakable sound of a baby stirring and beginning to wail in hunger.

"It's your turn."

No, I fed her before we came to bed.

No, it's your night. Remember.

No, we were rotating feedings.

No, we are doing alternate nights now.

Since when!

Since Meese

Aaah Malaka! Who told you!

[White]Atty's lips curl with a victorious smile as James starts to get up.

Fine. I'll be shitting in the living room.

S'Agapo.

Roll Credits


Preesh

Jesus Effin Christ Preesh! I thought you had shit the bed with that whole Xavier Lux thing earlier! I'm under enough stress as is you effin dolt. I thought you were dropping this title before the big day like the Jabroni curtain jerking fuck up are, and I was out here sending legitimate competitors to therapy for no reason.

Please, for the love of God, just hold it together for 24 hours and let me take this thing home before you go back burying to B.O.B further into it's ditch of depravity, despair, and dipshitness.

I'll even pay out of pocket for your next round of chicken nuggets and ring rats. I'll even go further and get you a nice plate chicken wings and a burrow at the Velvet Rabbit.

Actual professionally prepared food and girls that shower. Doesn't that sound nice?

Don't eff this up for me, please. I was B.O.B once remember. 

]]> <![CDATA[Possibilities]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44600 Fri, 23 Sep 2022 21:58:48 -0700 Ned Kaye]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44600
September 19th, 2022


The car puttered and whined as Ned accelerated, surrounded by a vast, open sea of grain and hill, swaying softly in the cooling breeze that brought Summer towards Autumn. It was a cheap sedan, the AC barely working, but it did the one thing it needed to do: drive. Kaye took in a deep breath as the wind rushed past his open windows. The last thing he had spoken about with Darce rang through his head, reverberating endlessly as he approached the outskirts where he planned to start heading towards his destination. His hands trembled slightly at the thought, but he had been thinking through it all for a long time and he understood that something had to crack. In short:

He had lugged around so much baggage and history from every little escapade and it had all became too much. Something had to give. Something was going to.

He pulled over to the shoulder, feeling the car vibrate underneath him as it passed over the small speed bump and slowed to a halt, an intersection in view just up ahead. It wasn't lost on him how undesirable this situation was, but he knew he had to buckle down and accept it. He had kicked the can down the road and delayed the inevitable for as long as he could. He was never good at surrendering, to circumstances or anything else. But this was long past the opportunity to decide. He stepped out of the car, his eyes still fixated on the intersection and walked over to one of the stalks of grain, his fingertips dancing against the rough texture as he thought about what was to come next. Which path to choose.

Which tie to sever? What could happen with each?















“Working class sensibilities are something I can get behind. Don't get me wrong, I know for me, it's a little... awkward, to say the least. There's a solidarity in a blue collar and I wouldn't have been able to pursue my dreams of wrestling without putting in the work myself and the support of my father, who spent way too much of his life lifting one thing or another to line the pockets of some billionaire. Your janitor stuff, Vaughn? It might be one of the few aspects about you I actively respect. But like a tattoo of a swear word, it always seems to come with an asterisk.”


“See, you couldn't admire the hustle and bustle of the working man and find a power in that. You couldn't embody the grit and power that comes with doing all the work because you never did it because it was the right thing or out of pride for a job well done. God knows unless you can a Peter Vaughn scented candle, you were never going to be happen. You didn't respect those doing the work with you, you admired the ones cracking the whip. When offered the chance to lift the boot off yourself and do something with a tiny bit of empathy, you just aspired to be a fancy new fuckin' boot. Do you really think that pyramid scheme shit wasn't going to stain your hands, too, or did you just figure not handling the bulk of the money or power would let you weasel your way out of culpability? What happened to you, Peter? Was it just greed that lured you into this lifestyle? Was it's Chris' flawless ability to play up your ego and accommodate you like a Tom Cruise to his David Miscavige? I'm not inquiring facetiously here, I really want to know. Because the sad fact of the matter is with a little self-respect, you could be more like me, Pete.”


“Now, before you chuckle your little dimwitted head off, I'll stop you right now. Because I'm sure you're wondering, “why would I like to be Ned Kaye?” Well, to start off, you'd be a hell of a lot more respected. Think about it, Peter, I can be in a career lull for months and people will always come to watch me perform and they do it because despite you having the edge in championships to me, I happen to be a hell of a lot more liked by my contemporaries. Am I perfect? Absolutely fucking not, but when I fail, I admit it and I wipe the dirt from my hands, the tears from my eyes, and the blood from my brow and I start swinging again. You clean messes for a living and yet you've failed to realize that the biggest heap of trash is the one you voluntarily hopped right into. See, that's the other difference between us. You weren't chosen for your character, you were chosen because you follow orders. You go ask Theo if he says jump and if I leave the ground and you'll find out real quick that there's no dollar amount on my loyalty. I choose my path, Peter, and I had the decency to forge it out for myself instead of tossing it up to some glorified accountant, MLM leader, attempted murderer scam artist.”


“But the debts of your little Enterprise in every sense of the term are about to come due, like all debts are oft to do. Years ago now, Chris Page beat me to get at Robert Main, a man he despises so much, he tried to take his legacy, his trust, and his life on countless occasions. Do you know how hard I tried to petition for that match? To find a time and place to face him again and beat the man who tried to kill my friend? I don't because I lost count, Peter. And now he is gone. And his legacy is you: an emblem of the worst of his behavior. Of the way he views professional wrestling, a side-gig to the most expensive kind of masturbation imaginable. That was my match to have, Peter. My chance to show him that his way doesn't work. And even though I am vindicated slightly by time itself, I was not given my chance to make that statement for now and forever doing what I do best: wrestling.”


“Until now. Until you.”


“You act like you get me or that you understand what makes me tic, but the truth is Vaughn, you wouldn't know what to use to clean my floor despite all your experience in doing so. I'm here to prove a goddamn point. I'm here to get that belt not to feel good, but to remind the world that I belong. That The Trilogy is three chapters, all of them draped in gold. But mostly, it's because I don't like you. I don't like what you stand for. I don't like the way you talk or think and I am more than done with you having a single shred of influence in this company. It has outgrown you and I'm just here to get it re-tailored. You can have your legacy birthed from infamy and wear it like shame around your neck for the rest of your godforsaken career. But I'm not here to infamous.”


“You know goddamn well what I'm here to be.”]]>
September 19th, 2022


The car puttered and whined as Ned accelerated, surrounded by a vast, open sea of grain and hill, swaying softly in the cooling breeze that brought Summer towards Autumn. It was a cheap sedan, the AC barely working, but it did the one thing it needed to do: drive. Kaye took in a deep breath as the wind rushed past his open windows. The last thing he had spoken about with Darce rang through his head, reverberating endlessly as he approached the outskirts where he planned to start heading towards his destination. His hands trembled slightly at the thought, but he had been thinking through it all for a long time and he understood that something had to crack. In short:

He had lugged around so much baggage and history from every little escapade and it had all became too much. Something had to give. Something was going to.

He pulled over to the shoulder, feeling the car vibrate underneath him as it passed over the small speed bump and slowed to a halt, an intersection in view just up ahead. It wasn't lost on him how undesirable this situation was, but he knew he had to buckle down and accept it. He had kicked the can down the road and delayed the inevitable for as long as he could. He was never good at surrendering, to circumstances or anything else. But this was long past the opportunity to decide. He stepped out of the car, his eyes still fixated on the intersection and walked over to one of the stalks of grain, his fingertips dancing against the rough texture as he thought about what was to come next. Which path to choose.

Which tie to sever? What could happen with each?















“Working class sensibilities are something I can get behind. Don't get me wrong, I know for me, it's a little... awkward, to say the least. There's a solidarity in a blue collar and I wouldn't have been able to pursue my dreams of wrestling without putting in the work myself and the support of my father, who spent way too much of his life lifting one thing or another to line the pockets of some billionaire. Your janitor stuff, Vaughn? It might be one of the few aspects about you I actively respect. But like a tattoo of a swear word, it always seems to come with an asterisk.”


“See, you couldn't admire the hustle and bustle of the working man and find a power in that. You couldn't embody the grit and power that comes with doing all the work because you never did it because it was the right thing or out of pride for a job well done. God knows unless you can a Peter Vaughn scented candle, you were never going to be happen. You didn't respect those doing the work with you, you admired the ones cracking the whip. When offered the chance to lift the boot off yourself and do something with a tiny bit of empathy, you just aspired to be a fancy new fuckin' boot. Do you really think that pyramid scheme shit wasn't going to stain your hands, too, or did you just figure not handling the bulk of the money or power would let you weasel your way out of culpability? What happened to you, Peter? Was it just greed that lured you into this lifestyle? Was it's Chris' flawless ability to play up your ego and accommodate you like a Tom Cruise to his David Miscavige? I'm not inquiring facetiously here, I really want to know. Because the sad fact of the matter is with a little self-respect, you could be more like me, Pete.”


“Now, before you chuckle your little dimwitted head off, I'll stop you right now. Because I'm sure you're wondering, “why would I like to be Ned Kaye?” Well, to start off, you'd be a hell of a lot more respected. Think about it, Peter, I can be in a career lull for months and people will always come to watch me perform and they do it because despite you having the edge in championships to me, I happen to be a hell of a lot more liked by my contemporaries. Am I perfect? Absolutely fucking not, but when I fail, I admit it and I wipe the dirt from my hands, the tears from my eyes, and the blood from my brow and I start swinging again. You clean messes for a living and yet you've failed to realize that the biggest heap of trash is the one you voluntarily hopped right into. See, that's the other difference between us. You weren't chosen for your character, you were chosen because you follow orders. You go ask Theo if he says jump and if I leave the ground and you'll find out real quick that there's no dollar amount on my loyalty. I choose my path, Peter, and I had the decency to forge it out for myself instead of tossing it up to some glorified accountant, MLM leader, attempted murderer scam artist.”


“But the debts of your little Enterprise in every sense of the term are about to come due, like all debts are oft to do. Years ago now, Chris Page beat me to get at Robert Main, a man he despises so much, he tried to take his legacy, his trust, and his life on countless occasions. Do you know how hard I tried to petition for that match? To find a time and place to face him again and beat the man who tried to kill my friend? I don't because I lost count, Peter. And now he is gone. And his legacy is you: an emblem of the worst of his behavior. Of the way he views professional wrestling, a side-gig to the most expensive kind of masturbation imaginable. That was my match to have, Peter. My chance to show him that his way doesn't work. And even though I am vindicated slightly by time itself, I was not given my chance to make that statement for now and forever doing what I do best: wrestling.”


“Until now. Until you.”


“You act like you get me or that you understand what makes me tic, but the truth is Vaughn, you wouldn't know what to use to clean my floor despite all your experience in doing so. I'm here to prove a goddamn point. I'm here to get that belt not to feel good, but to remind the world that I belong. That The Trilogy is three chapters, all of them draped in gold. But mostly, it's because I don't like you. I don't like what you stand for. I don't like the way you talk or think and I am more than done with you having a single shred of influence in this company. It has outgrown you and I'm just here to get it re-tailored. You can have your legacy birthed from infamy and wear it like shame around your neck for the rest of your godforsaken career. But I'm not here to infamous.”


“You know goddamn well what I'm here to be.”]]> <![CDATA[Connections Through Time, P2]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44599 Fri, 23 Sep 2022 21:19:16 -0700 Peter Vaughn]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44599


The Road So Far:

A Secret War Is Brewing, P1

A Secret War Is Brewing, P2

A Secret War Is Brewing, P3

Civil (Servants) War, P1

Civil (Servants) War, P2

Civil (Servants) War, P3

Connections Through Time, P1



[Image: executive-summary.jpg]

When last we saw Peter Vaughn, we were seeing in triplicate.

One version was a 16-year-old Peter Vaughn from 2008, a young man who had yet to be corrupted by his experiences inside the squared circle. He was a teenager who cared about his father, and who wanted to only do right by him, helping him in the "family business" of being a janitor. He also had no idea of his father's secret life, alongside a young Billy Sykes.

At another time, the 30-year-old Peter Vaughn was busy in the present day leading his Custodial Coalition troops into battle against the reformed Maintenance Mafia. They managed to take over one of the Mafia's secret computer labs, giving Vaughn's group the access it needed to find out what the Mafia was working for, and who was working with them. It also allowed him to trap Bill Sykes and reveal that he was the double agent working for both groups, who had let the Mafia into the Coalition's headquarters last month.

Third and finally, we had a 50-year-old Peter Vaughn in 2042. In a future that did not look pleasant, Vaughn looked to finally end his vendetta with Bill Sykes, only to find out Bill had constructed a long-lost weapon developed by the Mafia: a weapon dealing with time. Bill tried to bring Vaughn with him on his journey, saying that more needed to be fixed, but Vaughn's distrust of Sykes caused him to activate his electromagnetic shield, 'protecting' him from the time jump.

Afterwards, all three Vaughns mysteriously found themselves in an unknown meadow, with no signs of human life anywhere around them. Where are they? WHEN are they? Your guess is likely as good as mine, true believers.


20?? - Location Unknown

~All three Vaughns have continued to stand around in a circle... or a triangle, if you prefer... staring at each other. The camera rotates around each one of them. The young Vaughn looks stunned, unable to believe his eyes. The older Vaughn is glaring at both of them, as if feeling some deep-seated anger towards both of them. As for the present Vaughn, he appears to be coolly calculating their situation. He takes a step backwards from them, getting the attention of both.~

Older Vaughn: And where do you think you're going?

Present Vaughn: Just a little further away from you guys. Don't the rules state that the same matter cannot occupy the same space? Don't want us to merge together and turn into a blob or something...

Younger Vaughn: Wait, are you basing your whole logic of this situation on that Timecop movie with Jean-Claude Van Damme??

Present Vaughn: ... You know that movie?

Older Vaughn: It came out in the 1990's, dickshit.

Present Vaughn: .... Dickshit? I see language hasn't gotten any better in the future.

Younger Vaughn: So... are you guys really saying... that you're me? In the future? Do the zombies take over or something? Because you two... don't look that good...

Older Vaughn: Take it in, kid. This is what you've got to look forward to.

Younger Vaughn: ... I think I'm going to be sick.

~The younger Vaughn runs off to the side, falling into a thick grove of grass. The sounds coming from over there are... not pleasant. The other two Vaughns consider each other again, with the present Vaughn taking note of the new scars in his future.~

Present Vaughn: So tell me the truth...

Older Vaughn: Yeah?

Present Vaughn: I become Universal Champion again in the future, don't I?

Older Vaughn: With everything that's going on right now, that's what you want to know??

Present Vaughn: Well, I figured it was the easiest question, at least. I mean, it's something you should definitely know off the top of your... head...

~He grows silent, with the older Vaughn glancing over at him, confused. The younger Vaughn walks back over, wiping off his mouth with a handkerchief he always carries with him.~

Younger Vaughn: I'm sorry, I don't know if this is some paint fumes hallucination, but even if it is, I need to know what I can do to prevent... all this.

~The teenager gestures at both men, who immediately turn their glares on him.~

Older Vaughn: Anything we tell you could just screw the future up worse, kid. If this IS the future...

~The other two look around again at the area around them, one that shows no signs of human habitation. But the present Vaughn still looks like he's thinking things through. He turns to his older self.~

Present Vaughn: Do you remember any of this happening? Because I sure don't... and I think that's a problem, isn't it?

Older Vaughn: ... No. I can't say that I was expecting this. What's the issue?

Present Vaughn: Well, obviously, it's him...

~The present Vaughn points at his younger version, who immediately takes a step back out of fear.~

Younger Vaughn: Me?? What... what about me?

Present Vaughn: You're here. Which means that I, as your older self, should remember coming here, shouldn't I? But I don't. I don't remember any of this. But why?

Younger Vaughn: Does that mean I... never return home?

Present Vaughn: If that were the case, I'd think I wouldn't even exist, at least not in this version. So you have to get back, and I guess so must I, if old man Mechanic over there didn't live this twice before. That means that there must be some other answer.

Older Vaughn: And I think I know what it is, junior. You guys and I must be here to fix things. I mean, look at this place! Does it look like anyone's been here in a long time? Something drastic happened, and I know who did it. A man named Bill Sykes...

Younger Vaughn: Mr. Sykes?? I just met him!

Present Vaughn: And I was about to throttle him...

Older Vaughn: He told me he did something to save us, in that Mafia headquarters that day. Maybe he yanked you out of the timestream. Might have done the same to you too, kid.

~The younger Vaughn takes a seat, looking distraught, but the present Vaughn shakes his head.~

Present Vaughn: But how did Sykes pull this off? He wasn't an idiot by any means, but time travel? Really?

Older Vaughn: Apparently, he reconfigured an old Maintenance Mafia project and managed to reverse engineer their work enough to pull it off. Damn fool would have yanked me out of the timestream as well if I hadn't blocked it with my shield.

~Interested, the present Vaughn steps forward, admiring the technology that the older Vaughn is still holding.~

Present Vaughn: I've got to get me one of those. It'd make it far easier to hang onto the Supercontinental Title at Relentless if Ned couldn't even touch me.

~The present Vaughn reaches out as if to grab the shield emitter, but the older Vaughn pulls his hand away with a grimace.~

Older Vaughn: We've got far bigger concerns than a wrestling match!

Present Vaughn: Hey, you've got your priorities, I've got mine.

Younger Vaughn: Wait, what do you mean "wrestling match"? The "Supercontinent" Title??

Present Vaughn: You'll learn about it when you're older.

Older Vaughn: Let's concentrate on figuring out our course of action. Obviously, Sykes did something that skewered us off onto another branch of time. Somewhere when the life was wiped out here... or, possibly, sending us far backwards in time. But that makes less sense if he couldn't reach me. No, we're likely still in my present, because I wouldn't have moved. So that means that he changed something in our past.

Younger Vaughn: ... I wish Dad was here. He loves sci-fi stuff like this.

~Both of the other Vaughns look away awkwardly. No reason to tell their young self that their father dies at a young age, after all.~

Older Vaughn: So what I'm thinking is that your time periods have to be important. Sykes likely went to one or both of them, which would explain how you're both here. As the most senior and experienced member of our... trifecta, I'll naturally be taking charge. You both should follow my orders, and we should be able to come out of this relatively unscathed.

Present Vaughn: Uh huh. Well, I may not have the 'experience' that you do, gramps, but even I can see that we're missing something pretty important.

Older Vaughn: What are you talking about?

Present Vaughn: We got brought here... by a time machine... which we DON'T HAVE!!!

~The older Vaughn straightens up in shock. He glances around the ground in all directions, looking for a device, but there's no sign. The other two Vaughns reluctantly start to do the same, spreading out and looking, although none of them look very confident. But then, without that device... there's really no point in any other planning.~


Don't you hate it when you miss something that's blatantly obvious?

It can really bug you, I know, when things slip past you. Take Neddy Boy, for instance. He thought he'd make a big deal about how I don't have any connections in my life. I suppose he doesn't catch the Level Up EXP shows, then. He probably only cares about anything XWF-related, and I can't blame him for that. The shows are pretty damn entertaining, after all.

But let me fill you in on a few things, Kaydo. You talk from a privileged position, only referring to my mother as someone who would "give me money". I lost my mother early on in life, when she abandoned my father and I and went on to create a whole new life. I've actually reconnected with her recently. Angela Hill is her name, if you were curious. Turns out she's not completely the evil bitch I always had in my mind, but I can't say that I'd ever ask her for money, nor would I give her any if she asked. Still, you could probably say that, in the loosest sense, she was one of the people who helped me get to where I am today.

I also have a half-brother, Thomas Hill, but I'm not giving him ANY credit, as I've helped him far more than he's helped me.

But if we want to talk about people in the wrestling business who have helped mold me, then that's easy. There's the Accelerator, or Ace to his friends, who first pointed to me and said "Get in that ring". Without him, obviously, I'm not a four-time World Champion. There's his son, Jonathan Barrows, whose 'creative training methods' turned me from a curtain jerker into a main eventer. There are people like Mike Zybala and Chris Page who have handled the agent's side of things, allowing me to concentrate purely on the wrestling. And then, yes, then there are men like James Raven. Men who I strived to become. To overtake. To destroy.

Hail Raven.

All told, though, as much as all of these people helped me, I know that I'M the real reason I'm where I am today. I'm the one who has made the choices that have led me down this path. And I take full credit for every decision I've made, rather than "thanking my lucky stars" that I've gotten here.

Is that really how you feel, Ned? Lucky? I mean, seriously, when's the last time you've felt truly blessed, my man? You have all this God-given talent, yet you've failed to pull off the big victory again and again. You've been beaten down in War Games, by rancors, by friends and foes alike. Hell, most of the people you praised have had better careers than you have lately.

You can't rely on luck. You just can't. You have to be skilled, and you have to have a strong plan in order to win in this business. I'm sorry, Keys, I'm just speaking the truth here. That could really be your problem, if I'm being honest. Maybe you've just been hoping too much for your fairy godmother to save your ass. You just have to come to terms that the only person who can truly help you is... you.

Not in this match, of course. I don't care if you've got one hundred wishes from a hovering genie, I'm still going to find a way to break you apart and retain my championship.

But in the future, just think about this one, okay? I'm being serious here. Stop relying on four leaf clovers and become the Universal Champion most thought you would be someday. Build yourself to the level of a Kido, a Flynn, a Vaughn.

Or else your luck's just going to completely run out.


20?? - Location Unknown

~After a mutual discussion, the three individuals of the Peter Vaughn Trifecta have spread out across the field, each heading towards a nearby forested region. The camera first focuses on the older Vaughn, as he trudges along, rubbing at his knee as he limps.~

Older Vaughn: Damn torn meniscus. Hasn't been the same since the '35 War Games. Damn, I'm missing that ice wrap right about now.

~He moves on, determined not to show weakness in front of the others. The shot switches to the more familiar Vaughn, who looks pissed off as he shoves some branches out of the way.~

Present Vaughn: Asshole, telling me what to do. "Go search for supplies", he says. Like we needed him to tell us that. We aren't getting anywhere without food and shelter, of COURSE we need to search! If I didn't have to worry about phasing out of time, I'd punch him so hard in the...

~Vaughn stops for a moment, then smirks.~

Present Vaughn: Heh. I want to beat myself up. The XWF psychologist was right, even if she was wrong about the circumstances!

~Noticeably more cheerful, the present Vaughn continues on, picking up some pieces of wood along the way for a potential fire later. We switch again, this time going over to the younger Vaughn. He's moving far more cautiously, peering in either direction every few seconds while slowly stepping forward.~

Younger Vaughn: Wish Dad had taken me on more camping trips. We never could get away. Maybe if he had, I wouldn't look like those two in the future. Boy, if I do get back, I can guarantee that I'm never going to become a wrestler! I'll stick with the family business this time!

~The teenager stumbles for a second over a tree root, but manages to regain his balance. He sighs, continuing onwards.~

Younger Vaughn: I don't even know what I'm looking for. Any food I find might be poisonous, any water might be contaminated, and any cave might have a...

~There's a strong growl in front of the younger Vaughn, stopping him immediately in his tracks.~

Younger Vaughn: ... Bear?

~A snarl is heard. The younger Vaughn instantly turns and starts running away, screaming, as the chase begins. Back on either side of the meadow, the older and present Vaughns come running out of the forest. They glance at each other, then begin racing towards where their teenage self went.~

Present Vaughn: He did scream, right?

Older Vaughn: Uh huh.

Present Vaughn: I didn't think we could even reach that pitch.

Older Vaughn: Guess his haven't dropped yet. He won't meet Melinda Mayberry for two more years.

Present Vaughn: What happens if he dies out here?

Older Vaughn: Most likely? We disappear.

Present Vaughn: That's what I thought. YO KID!!! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU???

~The two Vaughns dart through the trees, searching for any sign of their teenage self. Suddenly, the older Vaughn changes course, running right, having spotted something on the ground. It looks to be a shoe. The older Vaughn runs right past it, with his younger self seriously considering grabbing the shoe before deciding it was better to be safe than transmogrified. He runs to catch up, just as they find an eerie see. Two large animals are moving around the bottom of a tree, growling as they look up at the terrified young man hanging from a couple of branches.~

Younger Vaughn: H-H-Help!

~The animals seem to notice the newcomers, turning to face the other two Vaughns. The older Vaughn sneers.~

Older Vaughn: Really? Just some wolves?

~Suddenly, the wolves rise up on their hind legs, standing almost like a man would. They both show their teeth, snarling at the startled men.~

Present Vaughn: Okay, mutated wolves...

Older Vaughn: Yeah, well, that's a little different...

~The wolves run towards the Vaughns, with one giving out a howl as it leaps forward... and both animals bounce off of the restored electromagnetic shield, yelping as they fall backwards. This was all the shield had left, however, as it sparks and dies. Taking advantage of the situation, the present Vaughn rushes forward, leaping into a dropkick into one wolf's head! Next to him, the older Vaughn is doing the same thing, taking both wolves down. They look at each other, suddenly bonding with a grin, as they both grab hold of the wolves from behind and yank them down with two different versions of the Revenged!!! The wolves cry out again, then scramble to their feet, immediately running away on all fours due to the terror and pain they're feeling. The two Vaughns get up, with the older Vaughn offering a high five. The present Vaughn almost does it, but the older Vaughn drops his hand and steps back before he can.~

Older Vaughn: Nah, just in case you're right...

Present Vaughn: Oh, yeah, sure... hey kid, you can come down n-

~The branch apparently gives way, as the younger Vaughn comes toppling down from the tree, landing hard in front of the other two men, neither of whom would risk trying to catch him. He gets up, rubbing his backside.~

Younger Vaughn: That stung! You know, if I had gotten paralyzed from that landing, you both would have regretted it.

Older Vaughn: It was a 10-feet fall, tops. Wimp.

Present Vaughn: Man, how'd we ever survive high school?

Older Vaughn: No idea.

Younger Vaughn: If you're through insulting me, how about we go see what that shiny structure is in the distance?

Older Vaughn: Huh? Where?

Younger Vaughn: I saw it while up in the tree. It's over that direction.

~Having nowhere else to go, and needing to stay together anyway in case the mutant wolves came back, the three men move off towards where the teenage Vaughn pointed. They disappear into the brush, out of the camera's view, as we can once again hear the wolves in the distance, howling. There's a tinge of embarrassment in their howls, or maybe that's just in your imagination.~


It's difficult to know your opponents when they're not even human. But I've put down dogs before. Orangutans, too. Oh, and that one Literal Gorilla. And I'm still here, knowing all of my opponents' weaknesses while they stay hung up on the regular misconceptions of my career.

It seems like every guy I face has this weird impression that I don't deserve the championship I'm holding. I mean, I called it last time. I was wondering if old K-Nutty there was going to cover the same ground. It doesn't matter to you, does it, Ned, that I actually won a tournament for this strap? That I've defended it twice against Calypso, beating him soundly within the rules both times? No, no, in your mind, I cheated to win everything, and thus, I'm undeserving to even be in the ring with you. I'm "besmirching" the Supercontinental Title, right?

It's rather hurtful. You know I don't think the same of you.

Of course, you did hit a few unique points in your descriptions of me. For one, calling me a "corporate suit". I can honestly say no one has ever said that about me before. If you haven't noticed my wardrobe, I'm more of a coveralls or cowboy boots kind of guy. If there's an event that requires me in a suit, I'll rent it, but I'll do my damnest to not be put in that position. It's just not my style of choice, unlike you, Keds.

Now, I get it. We're talking a little more 'figuratively' here, meaning that I'm a corporate suit because... why? The ownership isn't on my side. Theo signed me to a contract and threw me into battle, and I basically only hear from him when my contract comes up for renewal. I'm not exactly in a "corporate" situation with CCPE, either. Sure, Chris Page does a great job managing my schedules and keeping me in the fight, but we don't really have a 'business structure' to speak of. If he does something I don't agree with, I can guarantee I'll knock him on his ass and move on. I've never been one to worry about following orders.

But let's talk about that, shall we, Nedked? If anything, my order for Relentless would be to make you suffer. To take out a little anger on your brittle bones while I have the opportunity, due to your lack of respect for my abilities in the ring. It's not all about personality. It's also about skill, talent, the need to survive. I've done more than anyone could have ever expected from me, and I'm only getting started.

You've been stuck in second gear for months now.

Here's hoping your next order you take isn't at a fast food restaurant, trying to type out a custom burger creation while sitting in your wheelchair. Because, you know, in a match like this, your future may be coming to an end even quicker than it already is.

Don't forget to ask them about their drink.


20?? - Location Unknown

~The three Vaughns are shown from behind, as they're all standing nearby the strange, shining structure in front of them. But none of them are focused on the structure. They're all reading the memorial plaque planted out front of it.~

Present Vaughn: Well... shit...

Older Vaughn: "This memorial has been placed to remember the 300,000,000+ that vanished during Judgement Day, 2022. They will never be forgotten, and we will be reunited soon enough."

Younger Vaughn: 300 MILLION?? And they just vanished?? Did they get pulled into the timestream like us?

Older Vaughn: No. More likely something happened with the machine, wiping them all out of existence. That's close to the current population of the United States.

Present Vaughn: So we were part of the event that wiped out America. Yay, go team...

~All three men sit, somberly, in front of the strange 'memorial'. It looks just like a regular building, only with a condensed steel surface that has allowed it to survive for years.~

Older Vaughn: Well, on the plus side, there might still be human beings around. Maybe one of them can guide us to the technology we'd need to recreate the time machine...

Present Vaughn: Oh, the time machine is right here.

Younger Vaughn: Oh, yeah, it's right.... wait, WHAT?

~The two Vaughns turn in confusion towards the 'middle' Vaughn, who is already tapping on the side of the structure, searching for a way in. They look at each other.~

Younger Vaughn: Has he lost it?

Older Vaughn: Honestly, that definitely was a time period where I felt a bit insane, so...

Present Vaughn: Guys, look at the bottom of the plaque. Who's the name who donated it?

Older Vaughn: Well, let's see... it's... J. Barrows... as in Jonathan Barrows??

Younger Vaughn: Who's he?

Older Vaughn: ... Let's just say that... we have a history together, and leave it at that.

Younger Vaughn: So I meet him at some point. He's a friend?

Older Vaughn: That's... complicated...

Present Vaughn: What matters is why this memorial is here. I'm willing to grant the coincidence that it was placed so close to our arrival location. I'm even willing to let slide the fact that it was still in one piece. But that it's from Barrows? BARROWS? No, this was placed here on purpose, and it might not even have been him...

~The present Vaughn feels around the side, eventually finding a hidden switch. He flips it, and a door pops open from the seam. All three Vaughns look inside.~

Younger Vaughn: What's that?

Older Vaughn: That's... that's the time machine doohicke, er, I mean, invention!!

Present Vaughn: I knew it...

~The older Vaughn carefully removes the device from its barely discernable hiding spot. It doesn't even appear like it's been there for long, although it must have been years. He brings the device up, considering it, before turning to the other two Vaughns.~

Older Vaughn: The question now is... where do we go?

~All three Vaughns speak at once, each having their own time in mind, and the argument begins.~


It can be infuriating to try and agree on a course of action when you're in a group. That's one reason I tend to prefer wrestling solo.

That way, it will be my call what books I use to smash you with in the antiques store, Newt. I hope they have a collection of the Encyclopedia Brittannia there. I could take you through all thirty-two volumes, trying to utilize a different location for each one. There may even be a section in there on anatomy, although I don't really need instruction on dislocations or bone fractures. I pretty much already have first-hand knowledge on how to crack someone's collarbone.

There could be so many more weapons there, Neddy, and in a location like this, the more unique the better. I'm so looking forward to seeing what else I get to use on you. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not going to go full-tilt hardcore. After all, this is all about retaining my championship, so if I can stun you with a victory roll in the first minute, I'm not going to ignore that opportunity. But let's be real here.

We're going to be using everything but the kitchen sink, and who knows? Maybe someone thought that sink was an antique at some point! I bet it shatters beautifully into your skull. Unless it's steel, which would actually be better, because it would enable multiple hits. Although it'd probably be heavy, so maybe not.

Sorry, I went off on a bit of a bloodthirsty tangent there. Eh, it happens.

The point is that I will use whatever is legally allowed to win this contest and retain my championship. And in a match like this, well, almost anything is legal. Wow, wouldn't it be crazy if a bunch of CCPE members showed up and attacked you en masse? Yeah, it's not going to happen. It would cost me a fortune, since they don't do anything for free. But it would still be pretty damn crazy. Of course, this does mean that you have the same advantage. You could call on all those friends you listed to come and help you take away my title.

But you won't do that, will you? You're hanging onto this nobility about loving the XWF, and hey, I think the place is great. But if you're going to make it your only game in town, you'd better damn find a way to be successful, or else at some point, you just become that groupie that's just hanging on hoping for another hit.

I still like you, Neddis. Even if you have a horrible opinion of me, I can't help but think of you as a worthy opponent that I can kick the shit out of. I don't actually want to destroy you, but if your downfall means my victory, then that's what it's going to have to be. Prep yourself for a bumpy landing, Neds.

You're blasting to the past and taking the Plunge.


20?? - Location Unknown

~As the argument continues, we can see the present Vaughn leaning against the memorial, while the younger and older Vaughns are face-to-face, while still not risking any contact.~

Younger Vaughn: I don't understand why you think we need to go anywhere other than home!

Older Vaughn: We have a responsibility!

Younger Vaughn: I'm 16 years old! I'm only responsible for getting my homework done, which this trip has made me extremely late for! Well... depending on when you return me, but YOU GET THE IDEA!!

Older Vaughn: And what about all the dead? This memorial says 300 million lives! Are you willing to let all of them die without at least trying to fix it??

Younger Vaughn: We don't even know that the memorial is real! It could be a fake, just so we'd find that whatchamacallit and mess with it. But it's our ticket home, and we should just use it!

~The younger Vaughn grabs at the device, fiddling with it, but the older Vaughn grabs it from the other side, trying to take it away.~

Older Vaughn: I forgot how damn spineless I was!

Younger Vaughn: I just want to go home!

Present Vaughn: Alright, that... is... ENOUGH!!

~Present Vaughn steps in-between the two, managing to yank away the device while remarkably not touching either man, at least as far as we can see. He steps away from them, looking down at the strange instrument that's caused all of this trouble.~

Present Vaughn: Everything you guys have said? None of it matters...

Younger Vaughn: What?

Older Vaughn: But, Peter... the lives...

Present Vaughn: I had nothing to do with that, and thus, I feel no responsibility for it. I do, however, still want to do two things. Kick Bill Sykes' ass, and beat the holy hell out of Ned Kaye. For that, I have to get back to my time so I can prep for my title defense. If that means saving the world, then so be it, but what are we waiting for??

~He twists the side of the device, powering it up, as a startled Older Vaughn steps forward.~

Older Vaughn: Wait! You have to set the coordinates...

~There's a sudden flash of light, and all three Vaughns are no longer there.~


2008 - The Past

~As the flash dies down, the Vaughn Trifecta stumbles slightly, thrown by the blast through the timestream. The younger Vaughn starts to fall, with the older Vaughn making a motion to catch him, until reconsidering at the last second. The younger Vaughn lands hard, out on the floor, as the other two try to recover.~

Older Vaughn: Well, that was a wild ride. Looks like the kid's unconscious. Wonder why that happened?

Present Vaughn: Where are we? Or when are we? Hey, this place looks familiar to me...

~The two men look around the area they've landed, taking note of the fact that it appears to be an apartment complex. Suddenly, from down the hall, they hear something strange.~

Peter Vaughn: "Now, I've got a confession. When I was young, I wanted attention. And I promised myself that I'd do anything, anything at all for them to notice me..."

Present Vaughn: Who's that? And why... why are they singing?

Older Vaughn: Is that what you call it? Sounds like a whale giving birth to me...

~Leaving the younger Vaughn behind, the two walk down a long hall, before looking around the corner of the intersection. There, dancing while he continues to buff the floor, is the younger Peter Vaughn!~

Peter Vaughn: "But I ain't complaining! We all wanna be famous! So go ahead and say what you wanna say!"

Present Vaughn: Damn. That's what we sound like?

Older Vaughn: There's a reason we never tried out for American Idol...

Present Vaughn: So we're in the past... is that why the teenager passed out? We're too early?

Older Vaughn: I don't know. Something really strange is going on...

Bill Sykes: You have no idea how right you are... Peters...

~Both Vaughns turn as one, staring back as an older Bill Sykes comes out of the shadows. His face appears burned, and he's got a robotic eye to go with his real one. He's holding a phaser-style weapon, pointing it their direction.~

Older Vaughn: Sykes...

Bill Sykes: You can't be here. Not now. Not when I'm about to end this all once and for all...

~Sykes points past the two Vaughns, down the hallway, where the younger Vaughn is still getting his groove on. He starts to squeeze the trigger, as the shot goes... dark.. ~



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The Road So Far:

A Secret War Is Brewing, P1

A Secret War Is Brewing, P2

A Secret War Is Brewing, P3

Civil (Servants) War, P1

Civil (Servants) War, P2

Civil (Servants) War, P3

Connections Through Time, P1



[Image: executive-summary.jpg]

When last we saw Peter Vaughn, we were seeing in triplicate.

One version was a 16-year-old Peter Vaughn from 2008, a young man who had yet to be corrupted by his experiences inside the squared circle. He was a teenager who cared about his father, and who wanted to only do right by him, helping him in the "family business" of being a janitor. He also had no idea of his father's secret life, alongside a young Billy Sykes.

At another time, the 30-year-old Peter Vaughn was busy in the present day leading his Custodial Coalition troops into battle against the reformed Maintenance Mafia. They managed to take over one of the Mafia's secret computer labs, giving Vaughn's group the access it needed to find out what the Mafia was working for, and who was working with them. It also allowed him to trap Bill Sykes and reveal that he was the double agent working for both groups, who had let the Mafia into the Coalition's headquarters last month.

Third and finally, we had a 50-year-old Peter Vaughn in 2042. In a future that did not look pleasant, Vaughn looked to finally end his vendetta with Bill Sykes, only to find out Bill had constructed a long-lost weapon developed by the Mafia: a weapon dealing with time. Bill tried to bring Vaughn with him on his journey, saying that more needed to be fixed, but Vaughn's distrust of Sykes caused him to activate his electromagnetic shield, 'protecting' him from the time jump.

Afterwards, all three Vaughns mysteriously found themselves in an unknown meadow, with no signs of human life anywhere around them. Where are they? WHEN are they? Your guess is likely as good as mine, true believers.


20?? - Location Unknown

~All three Vaughns have continued to stand around in a circle... or a triangle, if you prefer... staring at each other. The camera rotates around each one of them. The young Vaughn looks stunned, unable to believe his eyes. The older Vaughn is glaring at both of them, as if feeling some deep-seated anger towards both of them. As for the present Vaughn, he appears to be coolly calculating their situation. He takes a step backwards from them, getting the attention of both.~

Older Vaughn: And where do you think you're going?

Present Vaughn: Just a little further away from you guys. Don't the rules state that the same matter cannot occupy the same space? Don't want us to merge together and turn into a blob or something...

Younger Vaughn: Wait, are you basing your whole logic of this situation on that Timecop movie with Jean-Claude Van Damme??

Present Vaughn: ... You know that movie?

Older Vaughn: It came out in the 1990's, dickshit.

Present Vaughn: .... Dickshit? I see language hasn't gotten any better in the future.

Younger Vaughn: So... are you guys really saying... that you're me? In the future? Do the zombies take over or something? Because you two... don't look that good...

Older Vaughn: Take it in, kid. This is what you've got to look forward to.

Younger Vaughn: ... I think I'm going to be sick.

~The younger Vaughn runs off to the side, falling into a thick grove of grass. The sounds coming from over there are... not pleasant. The other two Vaughns consider each other again, with the present Vaughn taking note of the new scars in his future.~

Present Vaughn: So tell me the truth...

Older Vaughn: Yeah?

Present Vaughn: I become Universal Champion again in the future, don't I?

Older Vaughn: With everything that's going on right now, that's what you want to know??

Present Vaughn: Well, I figured it was the easiest question, at least. I mean, it's something you should definitely know off the top of your... head...

~He grows silent, with the older Vaughn glancing over at him, confused. The younger Vaughn walks back over, wiping off his mouth with a handkerchief he always carries with him.~

Younger Vaughn: I'm sorry, I don't know if this is some paint fumes hallucination, but even if it is, I need to know what I can do to prevent... all this.

~The teenager gestures at both men, who immediately turn their glares on him.~

Older Vaughn: Anything we tell you could just screw the future up worse, kid. If this IS the future...

~The other two look around again at the area around them, one that shows no signs of human habitation. But the present Vaughn still looks like he's thinking things through. He turns to his older self.~

Present Vaughn: Do you remember any of this happening? Because I sure don't... and I think that's a problem, isn't it?

Older Vaughn: ... No. I can't say that I was expecting this. What's the issue?

Present Vaughn: Well, obviously, it's him...

~The present Vaughn points at his younger version, who immediately takes a step back out of fear.~

Younger Vaughn: Me?? What... what about me?

Present Vaughn: You're here. Which means that I, as your older self, should remember coming here, shouldn't I? But I don't. I don't remember any of this. But why?

Younger Vaughn: Does that mean I... never return home?

Present Vaughn: If that were the case, I'd think I wouldn't even exist, at least not in this version. So you have to get back, and I guess so must I, if old man Mechanic over there didn't live this twice before. That means that there must be some other answer.

Older Vaughn: And I think I know what it is, junior. You guys and I must be here to fix things. I mean, look at this place! Does it look like anyone's been here in a long time? Something drastic happened, and I know who did it. A man named Bill Sykes...

Younger Vaughn: Mr. Sykes?? I just met him!

Present Vaughn: And I was about to throttle him...

Older Vaughn: He told me he did something to save us, in that Mafia headquarters that day. Maybe he yanked you out of the timestream. Might have done the same to you too, kid.

~The younger Vaughn takes a seat, looking distraught, but the present Vaughn shakes his head.~

Present Vaughn: But how did Sykes pull this off? He wasn't an idiot by any means, but time travel? Really?

Older Vaughn: Apparently, he reconfigured an old Maintenance Mafia project and managed to reverse engineer their work enough to pull it off. Damn fool would have yanked me out of the timestream as well if I hadn't blocked it with my shield.

~Interested, the present Vaughn steps forward, admiring the technology that the older Vaughn is still holding.~

Present Vaughn: I've got to get me one of those. It'd make it far easier to hang onto the Supercontinental Title at Relentless if Ned couldn't even touch me.

~The present Vaughn reaches out as if to grab the shield emitter, but the older Vaughn pulls his hand away with a grimace.~

Older Vaughn: We've got far bigger concerns than a wrestling match!

Present Vaughn: Hey, you've got your priorities, I've got mine.

Younger Vaughn: Wait, what do you mean "wrestling match"? The "Supercontinent" Title??

Present Vaughn: You'll learn about it when you're older.

Older Vaughn: Let's concentrate on figuring out our course of action. Obviously, Sykes did something that skewered us off onto another branch of time. Somewhere when the life was wiped out here... or, possibly, sending us far backwards in time. But that makes less sense if he couldn't reach me. No, we're likely still in my present, because I wouldn't have moved. So that means that he changed something in our past.

Younger Vaughn: ... I wish Dad was here. He loves sci-fi stuff like this.

~Both of the other Vaughns look away awkwardly. No reason to tell their young self that their father dies at a young age, after all.~

Older Vaughn: So what I'm thinking is that your time periods have to be important. Sykes likely went to one or both of them, which would explain how you're both here. As the most senior and experienced member of our... trifecta, I'll naturally be taking charge. You both should follow my orders, and we should be able to come out of this relatively unscathed.

Present Vaughn: Uh huh. Well, I may not have the 'experience' that you do, gramps, but even I can see that we're missing something pretty important.

Older Vaughn: What are you talking about?

Present Vaughn: We got brought here... by a time machine... which we DON'T HAVE!!!

~The older Vaughn straightens up in shock. He glances around the ground in all directions, looking for a device, but there's no sign. The other two Vaughns reluctantly start to do the same, spreading out and looking, although none of them look very confident. But then, without that device... there's really no point in any other planning.~


Don't you hate it when you miss something that's blatantly obvious?

It can really bug you, I know, when things slip past you. Take Neddy Boy, for instance. He thought he'd make a big deal about how I don't have any connections in my life. I suppose he doesn't catch the Level Up EXP shows, then. He probably only cares about anything XWF-related, and I can't blame him for that. The shows are pretty damn entertaining, after all.

But let me fill you in on a few things, Kaydo. You talk from a privileged position, only referring to my mother as someone who would "give me money". I lost my mother early on in life, when she abandoned my father and I and went on to create a whole new life. I've actually reconnected with her recently. Angela Hill is her name, if you were curious. Turns out she's not completely the evil bitch I always had in my mind, but I can't say that I'd ever ask her for money, nor would I give her any if she asked. Still, you could probably say that, in the loosest sense, she was one of the people who helped me get to where I am today.

I also have a half-brother, Thomas Hill, but I'm not giving him ANY credit, as I've helped him far more than he's helped me.

But if we want to talk about people in the wrestling business who have helped mold me, then that's easy. There's the Accelerator, or Ace to his friends, who first pointed to me and said "Get in that ring". Without him, obviously, I'm not a four-time World Champion. There's his son, Jonathan Barrows, whose 'creative training methods' turned me from a curtain jerker into a main eventer. There are people like Mike Zybala and Chris Page who have handled the agent's side of things, allowing me to concentrate purely on the wrestling. And then, yes, then there are men like James Raven. Men who I strived to become. To overtake. To destroy.

Hail Raven.

All told, though, as much as all of these people helped me, I know that I'M the real reason I'm where I am today. I'm the one who has made the choices that have led me down this path. And I take full credit for every decision I've made, rather than "thanking my lucky stars" that I've gotten here.

Is that really how you feel, Ned? Lucky? I mean, seriously, when's the last time you've felt truly blessed, my man? You have all this God-given talent, yet you've failed to pull off the big victory again and again. You've been beaten down in War Games, by rancors, by friends and foes alike. Hell, most of the people you praised have had better careers than you have lately.

You can't rely on luck. You just can't. You have to be skilled, and you have to have a strong plan in order to win in this business. I'm sorry, Keys, I'm just speaking the truth here. That could really be your problem, if I'm being honest. Maybe you've just been hoping too much for your fairy godmother to save your ass. You just have to come to terms that the only person who can truly help you is... you.

Not in this match, of course. I don't care if you've got one hundred wishes from a hovering genie, I'm still going to find a way to break you apart and retain my championship.

But in the future, just think about this one, okay? I'm being serious here. Stop relying on four leaf clovers and become the Universal Champion most thought you would be someday. Build yourself to the level of a Kido, a Flynn, a Vaughn.

Or else your luck's just going to completely run out.


20?? - Location Unknown

~After a mutual discussion, the three individuals of the Peter Vaughn Trifecta have spread out across the field, each heading towards a nearby forested region. The camera first focuses on the older Vaughn, as he trudges along, rubbing at his knee as he limps.~

Older Vaughn: Damn torn meniscus. Hasn't been the same since the '35 War Games. Damn, I'm missing that ice wrap right about now.

~He moves on, determined not to show weakness in front of the others. The shot switches to the more familiar Vaughn, who looks pissed off as he shoves some branches out of the way.~

Present Vaughn: Asshole, telling me what to do. "Go search for supplies", he says. Like we needed him to tell us that. We aren't getting anywhere without food and shelter, of COURSE we need to search! If I didn't have to worry about phasing out of time, I'd punch him so hard in the...

~Vaughn stops for a moment, then smirks.~

Present Vaughn: Heh. I want to beat myself up. The XWF psychologist was right, even if she was wrong about the circumstances!

~Noticeably more cheerful, the present Vaughn continues on, picking up some pieces of wood along the way for a potential fire later. We switch again, this time going over to the younger Vaughn. He's moving far more cautiously, peering in either direction every few seconds while slowly stepping forward.~

Younger Vaughn: Wish Dad had taken me on more camping trips. We never could get away. Maybe if he had, I wouldn't look like those two in the future. Boy, if I do get back, I can guarantee that I'm never going to become a wrestler! I'll stick with the family business this time!

~The teenager stumbles for a second over a tree root, but manages to regain his balance. He sighs, continuing onwards.~

Younger Vaughn: I don't even know what I'm looking for. Any food I find might be poisonous, any water might be contaminated, and any cave might have a...

~There's a strong growl in front of the younger Vaughn, stopping him immediately in his tracks.~

Younger Vaughn: ... Bear?

~A snarl is heard. The younger Vaughn instantly turns and starts running away, screaming, as the chase begins. Back on either side of the meadow, the older and present Vaughns come running out of the forest. They glance at each other, then begin racing towards where their teenage self went.~

Present Vaughn: He did scream, right?

Older Vaughn: Uh huh.

Present Vaughn: I didn't think we could even reach that pitch.

Older Vaughn: Guess his haven't dropped yet. He won't meet Melinda Mayberry for two more years.

Present Vaughn: What happens if he dies out here?

Older Vaughn: Most likely? We disappear.

Present Vaughn: That's what I thought. YO KID!!! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU???

~The two Vaughns dart through the trees, searching for any sign of their teenage self. Suddenly, the older Vaughn changes course, running right, having spotted something on the ground. It looks to be a shoe. The older Vaughn runs right past it, with his younger self seriously considering grabbing the shoe before deciding it was better to be safe than transmogrified. He runs to catch up, just as they find an eerie see. Two large animals are moving around the bottom of a tree, growling as they look up at the terrified young man hanging from a couple of branches.~

Younger Vaughn: H-H-Help!

~The animals seem to notice the newcomers, turning to face the other two Vaughns. The older Vaughn sneers.~

Older Vaughn: Really? Just some wolves?

~Suddenly, the wolves rise up on their hind legs, standing almost like a man would. They both show their teeth, snarling at the startled men.~

Present Vaughn: Okay, mutated wolves...

Older Vaughn: Yeah, well, that's a little different...

~The wolves run towards the Vaughns, with one giving out a howl as it leaps forward... and both animals bounce off of the restored electromagnetic shield, yelping as they fall backwards. This was all the shield had left, however, as it sparks and dies. Taking advantage of the situation, the present Vaughn rushes forward, leaping into a dropkick into one wolf's head! Next to him, the older Vaughn is doing the same thing, taking both wolves down. They look at each other, suddenly bonding with a grin, as they both grab hold of the wolves from behind and yank them down with two different versions of the Revenged!!! The wolves cry out again, then scramble to their feet, immediately running away on all fours due to the terror and pain they're feeling. The two Vaughns get up, with the older Vaughn offering a high five. The present Vaughn almost does it, but the older Vaughn drops his hand and steps back before he can.~

Older Vaughn: Nah, just in case you're right...

Present Vaughn: Oh, yeah, sure... hey kid, you can come down n-

~The branch apparently gives way, as the younger Vaughn comes toppling down from the tree, landing hard in front of the other two men, neither of whom would risk trying to catch him. He gets up, rubbing his backside.~

Younger Vaughn: That stung! You know, if I had gotten paralyzed from that landing, you both would have regretted it.

Older Vaughn: It was a 10-feet fall, tops. Wimp.

Present Vaughn: Man, how'd we ever survive high school?

Older Vaughn: No idea.

Younger Vaughn: If you're through insulting me, how about we go see what that shiny structure is in the distance?

Older Vaughn: Huh? Where?

Younger Vaughn: I saw it while up in the tree. It's over that direction.

~Having nowhere else to go, and needing to stay together anyway in case the mutant wolves came back, the three men move off towards where the teenage Vaughn pointed. They disappear into the brush, out of the camera's view, as we can once again hear the wolves in the distance, howling. There's a tinge of embarrassment in their howls, or maybe that's just in your imagination.~


It's difficult to know your opponents when they're not even human. But I've put down dogs before. Orangutans, too. Oh, and that one Literal Gorilla. And I'm still here, knowing all of my opponents' weaknesses while they stay hung up on the regular misconceptions of my career.

It seems like every guy I face has this weird impression that I don't deserve the championship I'm holding. I mean, I called it last time. I was wondering if old K-Nutty there was going to cover the same ground. It doesn't matter to you, does it, Ned, that I actually won a tournament for this strap? That I've defended it twice against Calypso, beating him soundly within the rules both times? No, no, in your mind, I cheated to win everything, and thus, I'm undeserving to even be in the ring with you. I'm "besmirching" the Supercontinental Title, right?

It's rather hurtful. You know I don't think the same of you.

Of course, you did hit a few unique points in your descriptions of me. For one, calling me a "corporate suit". I can honestly say no one has ever said that about me before. If you haven't noticed my wardrobe, I'm more of a coveralls or cowboy boots kind of guy. If there's an event that requires me in a suit, I'll rent it, but I'll do my damnest to not be put in that position. It's just not my style of choice, unlike you, Keds.

Now, I get it. We're talking a little more 'figuratively' here, meaning that I'm a corporate suit because... why? The ownership isn't on my side. Theo signed me to a contract and threw me into battle, and I basically only hear from him when my contract comes up for renewal. I'm not exactly in a "corporate" situation with CCPE, either. Sure, Chris Page does a great job managing my schedules and keeping me in the fight, but we don't really have a 'business structure' to speak of. If he does something I don't agree with, I can guarantee I'll knock him on his ass and move on. I've never been one to worry about following orders.

But let's talk about that, shall we, Nedked? If anything, my order for Relentless would be to make you suffer. To take out a little anger on your brittle bones while I have the opportunity, due to your lack of respect for my abilities in the ring. It's not all about personality. It's also about skill, talent, the need to survive. I've done more than anyone could have ever expected from me, and I'm only getting started.

You've been stuck in second gear for months now.

Here's hoping your next order you take isn't at a fast food restaurant, trying to type out a custom burger creation while sitting in your wheelchair. Because, you know, in a match like this, your future may be coming to an end even quicker than it already is.

Don't forget to ask them about their drink.


20?? - Location Unknown

~The three Vaughns are shown from behind, as they're all standing nearby the strange, shining structure in front of them. But none of them are focused on the structure. They're all reading the memorial plaque planted out front of it.~

Present Vaughn: Well... shit...

Older Vaughn: "This memorial has been placed to remember the 300,000,000+ that vanished during Judgement Day, 2022. They will never be forgotten, and we will be reunited soon enough."

Younger Vaughn: 300 MILLION?? And they just vanished?? Did they get pulled into the timestream like us?

Older Vaughn: No. More likely something happened with the machine, wiping them all out of existence. That's close to the current population of the United States.

Present Vaughn: So we were part of the event that wiped out America. Yay, go team...

~All three men sit, somberly, in front of the strange 'memorial'. It looks just like a regular building, only with a condensed steel surface that has allowed it to survive for years.~

Older Vaughn: Well, on the plus side, there might still be human beings around. Maybe one of them can guide us to the technology we'd need to recreate the time machine...

Present Vaughn: Oh, the time machine is right here.

Younger Vaughn: Oh, yeah, it's right.... wait, WHAT?

~The two Vaughns turn in confusion towards the 'middle' Vaughn, who is already tapping on the side of the structure, searching for a way in. They look at each other.~

Younger Vaughn: Has he lost it?

Older Vaughn: Honestly, that definitely was a time period where I felt a bit insane, so...

Present Vaughn: Guys, look at the bottom of the plaque. Who's the name who donated it?

Older Vaughn: Well, let's see... it's... J. Barrows... as in Jonathan Barrows??

Younger Vaughn: Who's he?

Older Vaughn: ... Let's just say that... we have a history together, and leave it at that.

Younger Vaughn: So I meet him at some point. He's a friend?

Older Vaughn: That's... complicated...

Present Vaughn: What matters is why this memorial is here. I'm willing to grant the coincidence that it was placed so close to our arrival location. I'm even willing to let slide the fact that it was still in one piece. But that it's from Barrows? BARROWS? No, this was placed here on purpose, and it might not even have been him...

~The present Vaughn feels around the side, eventually finding a hidden switch. He flips it, and a door pops open from the seam. All three Vaughns look inside.~

Younger Vaughn: What's that?

Older Vaughn: That's... that's the time machine doohicke, er, I mean, invention!!

Present Vaughn: I knew it...

~The older Vaughn carefully removes the device from its barely discernable hiding spot. It doesn't even appear like it's been there for long, although it must have been years. He brings the device up, considering it, before turning to the other two Vaughns.~

Older Vaughn: The question now is... where do we go?

~All three Vaughns speak at once, each having their own time in mind, and the argument begins.~


It can be infuriating to try and agree on a course of action when you're in a group. That's one reason I tend to prefer wrestling solo.

That way, it will be my call what books I use to smash you with in the antiques store, Newt. I hope they have a collection of the Encyclopedia Brittannia there. I could take you through all thirty-two volumes, trying to utilize a different location for each one. There may even be a section in there on anatomy, although I don't really need instruction on dislocations or bone fractures. I pretty much already have first-hand knowledge on how to crack someone's collarbone.

There could be so many more weapons there, Neddy, and in a location like this, the more unique the better. I'm so looking forward to seeing what else I get to use on you. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not going to go full-tilt hardcore. After all, this is all about retaining my championship, so if I can stun you with a victory roll in the first minute, I'm not going to ignore that opportunity. But let's be real here.

We're going to be using everything but the kitchen sink, and who knows? Maybe someone thought that sink was an antique at some point! I bet it shatters beautifully into your skull. Unless it's steel, which would actually be better, because it would enable multiple hits. Although it'd probably be heavy, so maybe not.

Sorry, I went off on a bit of a bloodthirsty tangent there. Eh, it happens.

The point is that I will use whatever is legally allowed to win this contest and retain my championship. And in a match like this, well, almost anything is legal. Wow, wouldn't it be crazy if a bunch of CCPE members showed up and attacked you en masse? Yeah, it's not going to happen. It would cost me a fortune, since they don't do anything for free. But it would still be pretty damn crazy. Of course, this does mean that you have the same advantage. You could call on all those friends you listed to come and help you take away my title.

But you won't do that, will you? You're hanging onto this nobility about loving the XWF, and hey, I think the place is great. But if you're going to make it your only game in town, you'd better damn find a way to be successful, or else at some point, you just become that groupie that's just hanging on hoping for another hit.

I still like you, Neddis. Even if you have a horrible opinion of me, I can't help but think of you as a worthy opponent that I can kick the shit out of. I don't actually want to destroy you, but if your downfall means my victory, then that's what it's going to have to be. Prep yourself for a bumpy landing, Neds.

You're blasting to the past and taking the Plunge.


20?? - Location Unknown

~As the argument continues, we can see the present Vaughn leaning against the memorial, while the younger and older Vaughns are face-to-face, while still not risking any contact.~

Younger Vaughn: I don't understand why you think we need to go anywhere other than home!

Older Vaughn: We have a responsibility!

Younger Vaughn: I'm 16 years old! I'm only responsible for getting my homework done, which this trip has made me extremely late for! Well... depending on when you return me, but YOU GET THE IDEA!!

Older Vaughn: And what about all the dead? This memorial says 300 million lives! Are you willing to let all of them die without at least trying to fix it??

Younger Vaughn: We don't even know that the memorial is real! It could be a fake, just so we'd find that whatchamacallit and mess with it. But it's our ticket home, and we should just use it!

~The younger Vaughn grabs at the device, fiddling with it, but the older Vaughn grabs it from the other side, trying to take it away.~

Older Vaughn: I forgot how damn spineless I was!

Younger Vaughn: I just want to go home!

Present Vaughn: Alright, that... is... ENOUGH!!

~Present Vaughn steps in-between the two, managing to yank away the device while remarkably not touching either man, at least as far as we can see. He steps away from them, looking down at the strange instrument that's caused all of this trouble.~

Present Vaughn: Everything you guys have said? None of it matters...

Younger Vaughn: What?

Older Vaughn: But, Peter... the lives...

Present Vaughn: I had nothing to do with that, and thus, I feel no responsibility for it. I do, however, still want to do two things. Kick Bill Sykes' ass, and beat the holy hell out of Ned Kaye. For that, I have to get back to my time so I can prep for my title defense. If that means saving the world, then so be it, but what are we waiting for??

~He twists the side of the device, powering it up, as a startled Older Vaughn steps forward.~

Older Vaughn: Wait! You have to set the coordinates...

~There's a sudden flash of light, and all three Vaughns are no longer there.~


2008 - The Past

~As the flash dies down, the Vaughn Trifecta stumbles slightly, thrown by the blast through the timestream. The younger Vaughn starts to fall, with the older Vaughn making a motion to catch him, until reconsidering at the last second. The younger Vaughn lands hard, out on the floor, as the other two try to recover.~

Older Vaughn: Well, that was a wild ride. Looks like the kid's unconscious. Wonder why that happened?

Present Vaughn: Where are we? Or when are we? Hey, this place looks familiar to me...

~The two men look around the area they've landed, taking note of the fact that it appears to be an apartment complex. Suddenly, from down the hall, they hear something strange.~

Peter Vaughn: "Now, I've got a confession. When I was young, I wanted attention. And I promised myself that I'd do anything, anything at all for them to notice me..."

Present Vaughn: Who's that? And why... why are they singing?

Older Vaughn: Is that what you call it? Sounds like a whale giving birth to me...

~Leaving the younger Vaughn behind, the two walk down a long hall, before looking around the corner of the intersection. There, dancing while he continues to buff the floor, is the younger Peter Vaughn!~

Peter Vaughn: "But I ain't complaining! We all wanna be famous! So go ahead and say what you wanna say!"

Present Vaughn: Damn. That's what we sound like?

Older Vaughn: There's a reason we never tried out for American Idol...

Present Vaughn: So we're in the past... is that why the teenager passed out? We're too early?

Older Vaughn: I don't know. Something really strange is going on...

Bill Sykes: You have no idea how right you are... Peters...

~Both Vaughns turn as one, staring back as an older Bill Sykes comes out of the shadows. His face appears burned, and he's got a robotic eye to go with his real one. He's holding a phaser-style weapon, pointing it their direction.~

Older Vaughn: Sykes...

Bill Sykes: You can't be here. Not now. Not when I'm about to end this all once and for all...

~Sykes points past the two Vaughns, down the hallway, where the younger Vaughn is still getting his groove on. He starts to squeeze the trigger, as the shot goes... dark.. ~



]]> <![CDATA[Forbidden Forest]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44597 Fri, 23 Sep 2022 18:24:10 -0700 Ring Master]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44597 Location: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Year: 2022

Ring Master and The Beast of the Forbidden Forest

The year was 2022 Lord PREESH was destroyed long ago. Albus Dumbledore had set the standard high, but Harry Potter was proclaimed a nationwide hero and was now Headmaster of Hogwarts. Everything was peaceful in the wizardry world for far too long and Harry knew that spelled trouble. Weeks went by as the peaceful environment continued until one day as Harry stood and looked out towards the forbidden forest, he got an uncomfortable feeling. It was not a feeling he recently had, but he could not put his finger on it. Learning from past mistakes he knew better than to ignore the feeling. Harry decides to discuss the feeling of his trusted counsel Ron and Hermione Weasley. They were on vacation, but he could always count on them whenever he needed them. Headmaster Potter sends out an owl with the following message.

"Trouble is brewing at Hogwarts once more we need to talk."

Harry Potter did not want to wait until they responded though considering he had no idea how immediate the threat is. He made a phone call to a close family friend. It was Ring Master they had recently reconnected after many years of no communication due to the jealousy Ring Master had toward Harry. It was a big favor to ask of Ring Master but what choice did the headmaster have he needed people who were reliable and would keep the students safe no matter the circumstances. Sending another owl toward Ring Master last location.

"Ring Master, I hate to ask this of you, but I need to speak with you at Hogwarts it's urgent."

Once the messages were sent Headmaster Harry Potter retired to his room for the night. The next morning, he received a response from Hermione and Ron.

"We will be there tonight!"

He had not heard anything from Ring Master which worried him slightly considering he was always quick to respond but regardless it was time to speak with the entire school and staff about this feeling he was having. Throwing on his best Headmaster robe he made his way toward The Great Hall

[Image: bf37c69cede8bc95aa6eea3a49c94813.jpg]

It was empty and peaceful for the moment as he stood behind the podium as the students and staff walked in for chow. The students and staff are content with how things were going at the school, so the appearance of Headmaster Harry Potter made some feel uneasy since Harry only spoke to them when there was a concern. The students sat according to the respective houses they are categorized in. The staff was located behind Headmaster Harry as he begins to speak.

Headmaster Harry Potter
I will never be the type of Headmaster to hide anything from my students until absolutely needed. I will communicate with you on the highest level of respect and authority. Everyone here is intelligent enough to know that I am here to tell you that I am concerned that the peaceful period Hogwarts has experienced is about to end. I have no proof yet however, to be sure you get the best protection around I have decided to forbid anyone to leave Hogwarts Castle. Outside activities are canceled until further notice.

He was about to continue his speech when The Great Hall door swings open and the entire school turns to see who it could be. Headmaster Harry knew right away as he smiles and walks to greet Ring Master Once the two men greet each other with a firm hug and shake Headmaster Harry directs Ring Master toward the podium where Headmaster Harry continues speaking with the students but with a different tone of confidence this time.

Headmaster Harry Potter
This man right here is a great asset to this school and with my intelligence and his creative personality we will find out what's going on outside. Enjoy your meal and when I know more you will be filled in.

He dismisses himself as the mood has changed. The kids were talking trying to figure out what is about to happen as Ring Master follows Harry to his office. They walk inside shutting the door behind them. Harry offers him a seat, but he prefers to stand as he eats peanuts. Harry stood near the window looking out at the Forbidden Forest once more as he speaks the concern clearly on his mind.

Headmaster Harry Potter
Ring Master, the favor I ask of you is dangerous. It is not something I wish on anyone, nor can any particular person handle this assignment.

Ring Master
What is the favor?

Headmaster Harry Potter
The Forbidden Forest has been around longer than anyone can remember. It was always a place that gave me the creeps when I was a student here long ago. I thought destroying Lord PHEESH would eliminate evil throughout the land but looking down into the forest I am uneasy.

Ring Master
Whatcha thinking?

Headmaster Harry Potter
I can't put my finger on it, but there is something evil lurking in the Forbidden Forest once Ron and Hermione arrive, we will discuss further and take a look sound good?

Ring Master
Absolutely!

Headmaster Harry turned away from the window wanting to focus on enjoying the visit. They sit down to catch up about the last few years as a thunderstorm rolls in. Ring Master calls it an early night as does Headmaster Harry. The headmaster would soon find out just how right he was about that feeling as the storm rages on outside a figure appears from the Forbidden Forest.

[Image: 408476.jpg]

This figure was a creature who only appeared in the dark of the night. It was afraid of no one and always got what he wanted. It was a creature that was about to shake Hogwarts School to the core. The creature made its way to Hogwarts School and managed to sneak his way into the hallway where he sees two students out of bed not following the rules. Looking around he hides in the shadows. The gothic creature was creative with playing on emotions. Ring Master suddenly woke up. He got a feeling they were no longer alone in the castle. Suddenly students can be heard screaming for a moment. Ring Master jumps out of bed.

Ring Master: This creature is closer than we realize.

He made his way to Harry and was about to wake him up when Ron and Hermione come in. Harry jumps up startled from all the noise. Grabbing his glasses, they start to talk.

Ron and Hermione
Harry! How's being the headmaster treating you?

Headmaster Harry Potter
Look guys, it's okay but Ring Master is here because he is the muscle of the operation.

They are about to figure out a plan when a student runs in. Tears are flowing down.

Headmaster Harry Potter
What's going on? Is everything okay?

Student
Headmaster last night I admit that I was out of bed. However, my reasoning was good two of my fellow Gryffindor's had wandered off and I wanted to find them before we all got in trouble. I was about to reach them when I saw this green glow in the shadows. I froze in fear as it jumped out and took James and Lily.

Headmaster Harry Potter
Do you know which way this creature went?

The student looks the headmaster in the eyes and nods.

Student
The Forbidden Forest

Headmaster Harry Potter
Did the creature have a name?

Student
It didn’t speak at all.

Headmaster Harry Potter
It’s fine now please enjoy breakfast we will take care of this.

The young Gryffindor leaves as Ring Master, Ron, Hermione, and Headmaster Harry look at each other knowing that whatever this meeting was going to be about had now changed. As the door shuts for the second time Headmaster Harry Potter sat behind his desk as the other three stand in front of him.

Headmaster Harry Potter
I was just telling Ring Master last night that I was having a bad feeling for a few days now about the Forbidden Forest. I even tried to talk to everyone to keep them safe and yet I failed. I need your help to correct this and find whatever is attacking the students and do it quickly.

Ron Weasley
You know I hate that bloody Forbidden Forest.

Hermione Weasley
Ron, get over yourself and let's work together and help our prestigious Headmaster protect Hogwarts.

Ring Master
Let's do this!

Headmaster Harry Potter
Look everyone here outside of Ring Master has been through it all with me. This should not be a problem at all.

Hermione Weasley
Headmaster one question, though. What role does Ring Master play in all this? He has no idea what he is signing up for.

Headmaster Harry Potter
Ring Master is strong and a survivor. He is an honorary potter but unfortunately, he was not blessed with a magic ability like the rest of us. He will figure out a way to help us we just need to watch his back and protect him as well. Let's get going, though, since it's early in the morning.

The headmaster led the way as the group makes their way down toward the Forbidden Forest. Everyone is looking around making sure they are not being watched or followed by curious students. Hermione, Ron, Ring Master, and the headmaster eventually reach the forest and stand there looking not sure what they will find.

[Image: forest.jpg]

Headmaster Harry knew he had to lead the way as he takes one step and then another. Everyone follows his lead as they go slow not wanting to separate but unsure which direction to go in a huge forest.

Headmaster Harry Potter
I hate saying this, but we need to separate in order to try and find some clues. Stay in shouting distance of course but it's the only option we have.

Ron Weasley
Um...

Hermione Weasley
Ron, do I always have to take the lead in this marriage? I will go with you and keep you safe.

Ring Master
I will go with Harry.

The group splits into two groups as the one goes go left and the other goes right. The two groups search for nearly an hour when Ring Master looks down at his feet and finds a potential clue.

[Image: 1.jpg]

He kneels giving it a little taste.

Ring Master
Headmaster!

Harry flips around looking back. He noticed Ring Master kneeling and then saw the puddle of blood.

Headmaster Harry Potter
Blood? What kind of creature is this? It looks fresh so whatever it is the creature is active.

He grabbed a handful as they both run and catch up with Ron and Hermione showing them what he found. Suddenly a voice can be heard in the distance.

"Come and find me, Ring Master."

Harry and Ring Master look at each other. It clearly was speaking to Ring Master, but he hadn't been in a battle for years. Suddenly two screams can be heard, and everyone knew it was the students. Ring Master without thinking took off towards the screams disappearing farther into the forest. The others run toward him as the creature laughs echoes the entire forest followed by more screams. Ring Master figured out what direction the screams are and eventually finds the missing Gryffindor's tied up covered in blood and crying. He worked quickly to free them. They are looking straight ahead as he frees them, but they don't move all they do is point to a cave as Ring Master looks back at everyone.

Ring Master
Take the kids back to Hogwarts I am going to handle this creature Ring Master style.

Ron Weasley
Ring Master, this is not your battle.

Hermione Weasley
Yeah, please do not be foolish this creature is far more advanced than you think.

Headmaster Harry Potter
I love you but I can't let you do this. This battle is mine, not yours.

The conversation is interrupted by the horrible voice of the creature.

"I'm not alone Ring Master. Come in if you dare."

He walked over to everyone looking them in the eyes.

Ring Master
Harry, you told me yesterday that you needed a favor from me. Let's face it you are not in combat form anymore. Being the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has made you soft and plump. I understand you have always been the stronger person and led by example but were family. Besides it clearly wants me and not you.

Headmaster Harry Potter
I know and you're right I did reach out asking you for a favor. This is that favor and I am grateful, but I do not have to like it.

With those words, the Headmaster, Ron, and Hermione turned around taking Lily and James back to Hogwarts to get them checked out. Ring Master turned his attention to the creature that awaits. He cracked his knuckles and neck pulling a sandwich out of his pocket devouring it quickly figuring if he did not survive at least, he would not be hungry. Walking towards the cave entrance Ring Master investigated the darkness and spoke

[Image: d204d40eae08fd99b7fc7cef697e4934.jpg]

Ring Master
I am not afraid of you. I am not afraid of the dark. However, you should be very afraid of me. You feed on innocent children destroying their childhood with memories that they can never erase. I may not be a magical man but believe me, buddy I am your biggest threat to date. I will not stop until you are destroyed. There is only one thing left to say, "I'm Ring Master & I'm coming to get cha!"

He continued into the cave knowing that Hogwarts and the world were depending on him. He made his way through the dark cave as he turns a corner and notices the green eyes glowing in the dark. He prepared himself when two more sets of eyes open and the beast lights up with fire.

[Image: cerberus_by_moonxels-damgi0t.jpg]

Ring Master smiled as he charged the beast. He gets within a few feet of him when suddenly the eyes move and Ring Master falls face-first into a pit of blood. It was a death trap for most people but not him. The blood was heavy holding him down, but he was desperate and buried his face into the blood. Good thing he had a steel stomach as he drinks the blood. He laughed at the three headed beast. Ring Master suddenly attacked it but not physically. Oh no that would be foolish. He took the three heads tying it into a knot and laughed at it.

Ring Master
What's the matter beast? All tied up and nowhere to go. Ha! I know who you are. I know the identity of each of you. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Hell let's do this the Ring Master way.

Suddenly the sword of Gryffindor appeared next to him. he grabbed it and in one swift motion sliced the three heads off. It would reveal the identity of each.

[Image: tenor.gif]

There was a rumble as the first head transformed into a massive blob.

[Image: the-blob-review-2.jpg]

Ring Master held the sword closely. He put the blade to its throat and looked into the blob's eyes.

Buddy, the pool party was a failure because the moment you jumped the water disappeared. You should be ashamed of yourself carry about that excess weight. Take care of yourself for crying out loud. You are the worse champion the XWF has ever had. What about you screams champion? The fact you can eat the competition, That's probably about it. I am surprised you remember 1986 it might have been the last time you tried exercising but even then, that might be generous. You want to mention my name in your filthy mouth I suggest you brush your teeth first. It's no surprise you have gout bigger, fatter, and older than me. Hell, your Gout has its own zip code and mailing address. You could line a certified 747 on that runway buddy. Ring Master is not fill in, so I suggest you stop telling lies before I gut you and let the grease flow from your body. Truth is you're not walking out of Relentless with that X-Treme Championship. It will give you the perfect excuse to get fatter and fade into the halls of the unknown.

With those words he guts the blob as it melts into liquid poo. The second head was transforming into a darker figure. The face was deformed a little, but Ring Master don't judge.

[Image: 5445c560889645.5a5cece0a04b2.jpg]

Goth, it’s funny how the Ring Master speaks, and no one listens. I try to tell you to run and do yourself a favor, yet you continue to show stupidity and want to fight. It's not surprise though knowing how sad your life is. You live in the darkness because you can relate. The world is not made for someone like you. It is made for Ring Master. I am normal and you are like roadkill getting picked off by the vultures of the wild. Once down, only bone exposing the once life filled animal. Now laying there looking disgusted and unrecognizable. This match is about more than the X-Treme Championship. It is only one match. That does not define my future. This match is about stability and stop the madness of rotating champions. Not to mention you sign here and just stick your nose in my business. It's personal now. Business has no place in this match. If I could I'd throw you off the rooftop and send your ass to hell.

He guts the second head focusing on the final one. An interesting Goddess appears.

[Image: 85fa11c5f180c3d4f9d9908eb2e53b07.jpg]

Sweetheart, there is nothing pleasurable about your palace. Maybe you can go on social media and steal more of my hard work without permission. I get you think being a goddess matters here but it doesn't. No one cares who you are on the outside because your ugly on the inside. I love everyone equally but you're just a shady bitch to me and I don't time for that in my life.

He stomps her into the ground as the scene fades with him rising the sword in the air like he just doesn't care.

OOC: Hope you guys enjoy. Have to work but did the best I could.]]> Location: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Year: 2022

Ring Master and The Beast of the Forbidden Forest

The year was 2022 Lord PREESH was destroyed long ago. Albus Dumbledore had set the standard high, but Harry Potter was proclaimed a nationwide hero and was now Headmaster of Hogwarts. Everything was peaceful in the wizardry world for far too long and Harry knew that spelled trouble. Weeks went by as the peaceful environment continued until one day as Harry stood and looked out towards the forbidden forest, he got an uncomfortable feeling. It was not a feeling he recently had, but he could not put his finger on it. Learning from past mistakes he knew better than to ignore the feeling. Harry decides to discuss the feeling of his trusted counsel Ron and Hermione Weasley. They were on vacation, but he could always count on them whenever he needed them. Headmaster Potter sends out an owl with the following message.

"Trouble is brewing at Hogwarts once more we need to talk."

Harry Potter did not want to wait until they responded though considering he had no idea how immediate the threat is. He made a phone call to a close family friend. It was Ring Master they had recently reconnected after many years of no communication due to the jealousy Ring Master had toward Harry. It was a big favor to ask of Ring Master but what choice did the headmaster have he needed people who were reliable and would keep the students safe no matter the circumstances. Sending another owl toward Ring Master last location.

"Ring Master, I hate to ask this of you, but I need to speak with you at Hogwarts it's urgent."

Once the messages were sent Headmaster Harry Potter retired to his room for the night. The next morning, he received a response from Hermione and Ron.

"We will be there tonight!"

He had not heard anything from Ring Master which worried him slightly considering he was always quick to respond but regardless it was time to speak with the entire school and staff about this feeling he was having. Throwing on his best Headmaster robe he made his way toward The Great Hall

[Image: bf37c69cede8bc95aa6eea3a49c94813.jpg]

It was empty and peaceful for the moment as he stood behind the podium as the students and staff walked in for chow. The students and staff are content with how things were going at the school, so the appearance of Headmaster Harry Potter made some feel uneasy since Harry only spoke to them when there was a concern. The students sat according to the respective houses they are categorized in. The staff was located behind Headmaster Harry as he begins to speak.

Headmaster Harry Potter
I will never be the type of Headmaster to hide anything from my students until absolutely needed. I will communicate with you on the highest level of respect and authority. Everyone here is intelligent enough to know that I am here to tell you that I am concerned that the peaceful period Hogwarts has experienced is about to end. I have no proof yet however, to be sure you get the best protection around I have decided to forbid anyone to leave Hogwarts Castle. Outside activities are canceled until further notice.

He was about to continue his speech when The Great Hall door swings open and the entire school turns to see who it could be. Headmaster Harry knew right away as he smiles and walks to greet Ring Master Once the two men greet each other with a firm hug and shake Headmaster Harry directs Ring Master toward the podium where Headmaster Harry continues speaking with the students but with a different tone of confidence this time.

Headmaster Harry Potter
This man right here is a great asset to this school and with my intelligence and his creative personality we will find out what's going on outside. Enjoy your meal and when I know more you will be filled in.

He dismisses himself as the mood has changed. The kids were talking trying to figure out what is about to happen as Ring Master follows Harry to his office. They walk inside shutting the door behind them. Harry offers him a seat, but he prefers to stand as he eats peanuts. Harry stood near the window looking out at the Forbidden Forest once more as he speaks the concern clearly on his mind.

Headmaster Harry Potter
Ring Master, the favor I ask of you is dangerous. It is not something I wish on anyone, nor can any particular person handle this assignment.

Ring Master
What is the favor?

Headmaster Harry Potter
The Forbidden Forest has been around longer than anyone can remember. It was always a place that gave me the creeps when I was a student here long ago. I thought destroying Lord PHEESH would eliminate evil throughout the land but looking down into the forest I am uneasy.

Ring Master
Whatcha thinking?

Headmaster Harry Potter
I can't put my finger on it, but there is something evil lurking in the Forbidden Forest once Ron and Hermione arrive, we will discuss further and take a look sound good?

Ring Master
Absolutely!

Headmaster Harry turned away from the window wanting to focus on enjoying the visit. They sit down to catch up about the last few years as a thunderstorm rolls in. Ring Master calls it an early night as does Headmaster Harry. The headmaster would soon find out just how right he was about that feeling as the storm rages on outside a figure appears from the Forbidden Forest.

[Image: 408476.jpg]

This figure was a creature who only appeared in the dark of the night. It was afraid of no one and always got what he wanted. It was a creature that was about to shake Hogwarts School to the core. The creature made its way to Hogwarts School and managed to sneak his way into the hallway where he sees two students out of bed not following the rules. Looking around he hides in the shadows. The gothic creature was creative with playing on emotions. Ring Master suddenly woke up. He got a feeling they were no longer alone in the castle. Suddenly students can be heard screaming for a moment. Ring Master jumps out of bed.

Ring Master: This creature is closer than we realize.

He made his way to Harry and was about to wake him up when Ron and Hermione come in. Harry jumps up startled from all the noise. Grabbing his glasses, they start to talk.

Ron and Hermione
Harry! How's being the headmaster treating you?

Headmaster Harry Potter
Look guys, it's okay but Ring Master is here because he is the muscle of the operation.

They are about to figure out a plan when a student runs in. Tears are flowing down.

Headmaster Harry Potter
What's going on? Is everything okay?

Student
Headmaster last night I admit that I was out of bed. However, my reasoning was good two of my fellow Gryffindor's had wandered off and I wanted to find them before we all got in trouble. I was about to reach them when I saw this green glow in the shadows. I froze in fear as it jumped out and took James and Lily.

Headmaster Harry Potter
Do you know which way this creature went?

The student looks the headmaster in the eyes and nods.

Student
The Forbidden Forest

Headmaster Harry Potter
Did the creature have a name?

Student
It didn’t speak at all.

Headmaster Harry Potter
It’s fine now please enjoy breakfast we will take care of this.

The young Gryffindor leaves as Ring Master, Ron, Hermione, and Headmaster Harry look at each other knowing that whatever this meeting was going to be about had now changed. As the door shuts for the second time Headmaster Harry Potter sat behind his desk as the other three stand in front of him.

Headmaster Harry Potter
I was just telling Ring Master last night that I was having a bad feeling for a few days now about the Forbidden Forest. I even tried to talk to everyone to keep them safe and yet I failed. I need your help to correct this and find whatever is attacking the students and do it quickly.

Ron Weasley
You know I hate that bloody Forbidden Forest.

Hermione Weasley
Ron, get over yourself and let's work together and help our prestigious Headmaster protect Hogwarts.

Ring Master
Let's do this!

Headmaster Harry Potter
Look everyone here outside of Ring Master has been through it all with me. This should not be a problem at all.

Hermione Weasley
Headmaster one question, though. What role does Ring Master play in all this? He has no idea what he is signing up for.

Headmaster Harry Potter
Ring Master is strong and a survivor. He is an honorary potter but unfortunately, he was not blessed with a magic ability like the rest of us. He will figure out a way to help us we just need to watch his back and protect him as well. Let's get going, though, since it's early in the morning.

The headmaster led the way as the group makes their way down toward the Forbidden Forest. Everyone is looking around making sure they are not being watched or followed by curious students. Hermione, Ron, Ring Master, and the headmaster eventually reach the forest and stand there looking not sure what they will find.

[Image: forest.jpg]

Headmaster Harry knew he had to lead the way as he takes one step and then another. Everyone follows his lead as they go slow not wanting to separate but unsure which direction to go in a huge forest.

Headmaster Harry Potter
I hate saying this, but we need to separate in order to try and find some clues. Stay in shouting distance of course but it's the only option we have.

Ron Weasley
Um...

Hermione Weasley
Ron, do I always have to take the lead in this marriage? I will go with you and keep you safe.

Ring Master
I will go with Harry.

The group splits into two groups as the one goes go left and the other goes right. The two groups search for nearly an hour when Ring Master looks down at his feet and finds a potential clue.

[Image: 1.jpg]

He kneels giving it a little taste.

Ring Master
Headmaster!

Harry flips around looking back. He noticed Ring Master kneeling and then saw the puddle of blood.

Headmaster Harry Potter
Blood? What kind of creature is this? It looks fresh so whatever it is the creature is active.

He grabbed a handful as they both run and catch up with Ron and Hermione showing them what he found. Suddenly a voice can be heard in the distance.

"Come and find me, Ring Master."

Harry and Ring Master look at each other. It clearly was speaking to Ring Master, but he hadn't been in a battle for years. Suddenly two screams can be heard, and everyone knew it was the students. Ring Master without thinking took off towards the screams disappearing farther into the forest. The others run toward him as the creature laughs echoes the entire forest followed by more screams. Ring Master figured out what direction the screams are and eventually finds the missing Gryffindor's tied up covered in blood and crying. He worked quickly to free them. They are looking straight ahead as he frees them, but they don't move all they do is point to a cave as Ring Master looks back at everyone.

Ring Master
Take the kids back to Hogwarts I am going to handle this creature Ring Master style.

Ron Weasley
Ring Master, this is not your battle.

Hermione Weasley
Yeah, please do not be foolish this creature is far more advanced than you think.

Headmaster Harry Potter
I love you but I can't let you do this. This battle is mine, not yours.

The conversation is interrupted by the horrible voice of the creature.

"I'm not alone Ring Master. Come in if you dare."

He walked over to everyone looking them in the eyes.

Ring Master
Harry, you told me yesterday that you needed a favor from me. Let's face it you are not in combat form anymore. Being the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has made you soft and plump. I understand you have always been the stronger person and led by example but were family. Besides it clearly wants me and not you.

Headmaster Harry Potter
I know and you're right I did reach out asking you for a favor. This is that favor and I am grateful, but I do not have to like it.

With those words, the Headmaster, Ron, and Hermione turned around taking Lily and James back to Hogwarts to get them checked out. Ring Master turned his attention to the creature that awaits. He cracked his knuckles and neck pulling a sandwich out of his pocket devouring it quickly figuring if he did not survive at least, he would not be hungry. Walking towards the cave entrance Ring Master investigated the darkness and spoke

[Image: d204d40eae08fd99b7fc7cef697e4934.jpg]

Ring Master
I am not afraid of you. I am not afraid of the dark. However, you should be very afraid of me. You feed on innocent children destroying their childhood with memories that they can never erase. I may not be a magical man but believe me, buddy I am your biggest threat to date. I will not stop until you are destroyed. There is only one thing left to say, "I'm Ring Master & I'm coming to get cha!"

He continued into the cave knowing that Hogwarts and the world were depending on him. He made his way through the dark cave as he turns a corner and notices the green eyes glowing in the dark. He prepared himself when two more sets of eyes open and the beast lights up with fire.

[Image: cerberus_by_moonxels-damgi0t.jpg]

Ring Master smiled as he charged the beast. He gets within a few feet of him when suddenly the eyes move and Ring Master falls face-first into a pit of blood. It was a death trap for most people but not him. The blood was heavy holding him down, but he was desperate and buried his face into the blood. Good thing he had a steel stomach as he drinks the blood. He laughed at the three headed beast. Ring Master suddenly attacked it but not physically. Oh no that would be foolish. He took the three heads tying it into a knot and laughed at it.

Ring Master
What's the matter beast? All tied up and nowhere to go. Ha! I know who you are. I know the identity of each of you. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Hell let's do this the Ring Master way.

Suddenly the sword of Gryffindor appeared next to him. he grabbed it and in one swift motion sliced the three heads off. It would reveal the identity of each.

[Image: tenor.gif]

There was a rumble as the first head transformed into a massive blob.

[Image: the-blob-review-2.jpg]

Ring Master held the sword closely. He put the blade to its throat and looked into the blob's eyes.

Buddy, the pool party was a failure because the moment you jumped the water disappeared. You should be ashamed of yourself carry about that excess weight. Take care of yourself for crying out loud. You are the worse champion the XWF has ever had. What about you screams champion? The fact you can eat the competition, That's probably about it. I am surprised you remember 1986 it might have been the last time you tried exercising but even then, that might be generous. You want to mention my name in your filthy mouth I suggest you brush your teeth first. It's no surprise you have gout bigger, fatter, and older than me. Hell, your Gout has its own zip code and mailing address. You could line a certified 747 on that runway buddy. Ring Master is not fill in, so I suggest you stop telling lies before I gut you and let the grease flow from your body. Truth is you're not walking out of Relentless with that X-Treme Championship. It will give you the perfect excuse to get fatter and fade into the halls of the unknown.

With those words he guts the blob as it melts into liquid poo. The second head was transforming into a darker figure. The face was deformed a little, but Ring Master don't judge.

[Image: 5445c560889645.5a5cece0a04b2.jpg]

Goth, it’s funny how the Ring Master speaks, and no one listens. I try to tell you to run and do yourself a favor, yet you continue to show stupidity and want to fight. It's not surprise though knowing how sad your life is. You live in the darkness because you can relate. The world is not made for someone like you. It is made for Ring Master. I am normal and you are like roadkill getting picked off by the vultures of the wild. Once down, only bone exposing the once life filled animal. Now laying there looking disgusted and unrecognizable. This match is about more than the X-Treme Championship. It is only one match. That does not define my future. This match is about stability and stop the madness of rotating champions. Not to mention you sign here and just stick your nose in my business. It's personal now. Business has no place in this match. If I could I'd throw you off the rooftop and send your ass to hell.

He guts the second head focusing on the final one. An interesting Goddess appears.

[Image: 85fa11c5f180c3d4f9d9908eb2e53b07.jpg]

Sweetheart, there is nothing pleasurable about your palace. Maybe you can go on social media and steal more of my hard work without permission. I get you think being a goddess matters here but it doesn't. No one cares who you are on the outside because your ugly on the inside. I love everyone equally but you're just a shady bitch to me and I don't time for that in my life.

He stomps her into the ground as the scene fades with him rising the sword in the air like he just doesn't care.

OOC: Hope you guys enjoy. Have to work but did the best I could.]]> <![CDATA[Time to be Relentless part 2]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44593 Fri, 23 Sep 2022 16:20:13 -0700 Goth]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44593
[Image: goth_banner.jpg]

The Genesis of Goth 

Chapter Seven: Seriously??



It’s early in the morning, Goth just woke up and has gotten out of his bed to take a shower. Enjoying the warm water splashing upon his face and his naked bod as he leans his head backwards, his eyes are closed as he thinks back to the wonderful night he had with Melissa. Having gone to a restaurant before taking a nice walk as he had placed his jacket around her shoulders to keep her from getting cold, ultimately having the night end with them making passionate love. He had noticed that Melissa had already left the bed when he had woken up, leaving him a message telling that she had gone to the gym. This caused him to smile as she had been a bigger gym freak than he was.

“I’m getting too old for this”

He chuckles, words he remembered coming from his father’s mouth as he remembered him when his father was his age,always complaining before getting into the shower as he prepared to go to work. His father was a good man, their lives back then were just a miserable one. He had wished that he could have supported his parents back then with the money he was making now, at least money that he hadn’t earned on the streets.

“Stop it….”

He puts both of his hands towards his skull, digging his fingers deep into the side of his head, as if he was trying to dig out the memories that he was ashamed of. His teenage years where he had been easily influenced by the wrong people, combined with the financial problems his parents were having had made him try to make an easy buck. We see tears flow down his cheeks in combination with the water that is splashing down his face, thining back at his first attempt to ship drugs to another country.

“Forgive me mom, dad…. I was so stupid back then….”

He lowers his head as his forearms are leaning against the shower walls, feeling the warm water hit the back of his neck and his back. Desperately trying to forget the memories of him being caught by the security and handed over to the police. He never cared for being caught, but the shame came when they had called his parents, informing them of what he had done. The look on her mothers face still haunts him to this very day, he could tell that she had cried all the time. While his father wouldn’t want to look at him or talk to him, a moment where he had felt so helpless and stupid.

It was the first time that he had come in contact with the law, sadly it wasn’t the last either. His mother tried to help him, but he was being rebellious. Wanting so desperately the forgiveness of his father after the first mishap. Trying so hard to explain that what he had done was wrong, but that he had done it for them. But his father would not want to hear any of it.

“I’m so sorry dad….”

He says in a soft whisper that is barely herd through the splashing water, he remembers that his father had died not much later through a heart attack as he was still serving his sentence. It had enraged him that he could not get a leave to visit his father’s funeral, something that many relatives and their friends had blamed him for. Even he himself had sleepless nights from it, the reage had even caused him to attack another inmate that had been taunting him for something as silly as his long hair. It was the first time that he had come in contact with the same rage that he knew his father could have had when provoked, yet he still loved that man.

He had tried to better his life, because he had promised his mother when he was finally released from prison and had visited his father’s grave for the first time. Sadly enough he was trying to convince himself even though his misery had dragged him deeper into drug abuse that had taken a shot that very same day after coming home. He hadn’t cared about his drug abuse, the true painful moment came when his mother had caught him stealing money from her to get himself another shot. That day was the day that she had kicked him out of the house and forced him to wander the streets.

He doesn’t blame her now, but back then he felt that everyone was against him. As if the world never even dared to love him. 17 year old Drug Addict, wandering the streets without anyone looking out for him… Well except for the supposedly friends of course. He sighs as he shakes off the thoughts for a few moments, wiping the tears away from underneath his eyes with the back of his wet hand.

“God, why was I such an asshole?”

He was part of a gang, he still has the tattoos to remind himself every single day how fortunate he is to have gotten a second chance, being able to live a normal life instead of being a drug addict or even worse… dead. And all because someone he had fallen in love with, someone that he thought would never love him back. The woman that ultimately became his wife, someone that to this very day he told himself that he had not deserved her and her love. And yet she had spend a majority of his life by his side, helping him overcome his abuse and even meeting his mother after he had made it as a wrestler. Once again feeling the love of the one person that he had always loved the most, but was too ashamed to have asked her for forgiveness. Something he finally received, but always knew in the back of his head that he didn’t deserve it.

“Knock, knock.”.

He snaps his head back after hearing Melissa’s voice, clearing his face with a few more rubs from the back of his hand before realizing how silly that may have looked. He opens the shower door slightly while popping his head through it.

“I’m almost done, You can…..”

His words slowly fade as his eyes trail over the beautiful naked body of his fiance Melissa, she grins towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kisses him passionately. Causing him to groan as he feels her soft lips engulf his own. His arms instinctively wrap around her slender waist, his hands caressing her as slowly everything starts to become a blur to him as if he had been drinking alcohol once more. He wants to pull away from her even though his body is resisting the warnings that his brain is attempting to communicate with him. He suddenly feels his body being enwrapped closer towards Melissa by some sort of tentacles, causing Goth to suddenly open his eyes and seeing a near dead being standing in front of him. Flesh rotting off of her bone structure like body, he feels an immense power containing him as he tries harder to break free from it but fails.

”What’s wrong Gerrit?”

This freaks Goth out, hearing the voice of his fiance talking to him while staring at a body that must have decayed for many years. He feels the tentacles bore a hole through his body as it enters his stomach and exits him from the back. Causing him to scream out in agony as he cannot contain his agony anymore.A sudden rush comes over him, managing to break his arms free and push the figure away from him as he attempts to run away from it. His feet buckle underneath him as he falls down o the bathroom floor as soon as he made contact with it.

”Oh my God, you are bleeding. I will call the medical staff immediately!!!”

Goth hears Melissa scream, he manages to look up as he sees her well curved body run away from him. Making him wonder what had happened to the creature. Causing him to turn around and see nothing else but the shower room, with the shower head hanging loosely from it’s holder, where we see blood pour from it. Goth stares closer to the shower head, wondering where the blood had come from before remembering as he touches his stomach. He slowly rises his hand back towards his face as he sees blood drip from his fingers.

”Good God, what is going on??”

He starts to talk out loud, not even being able to keep his own thoughts to himself. He tries to regain composure s he suddenly see his blood that is oozing in the floor of the shower turn into dark black goo. Causing his brain to realize who is behind it, only to cause his eyes to fade as his brain shuts down.

Goth ultimately wakes up, resting upon a bed in a room he cannot remember ever having slept in his entire life. He looks at the room, realizing that he is no longer in the hotel that he and Melissa had been staying at as he assumes that he is at a hospital.

”Melissa??”

His words softly croak from his dry mouth, he can tell that he has not drank anything in quite some time. Making him wonder whether he truly is in a hospital as this causes him to look around, only to lift a hand above his eyes as the light is blinding him. He quickly lifts an arm in front of his face, realizing that he is wearing a white satin shirt, causing alarm bells to ring as he remembers the last time that he had worn a shirt like this.

”The alcohol rehab facinity?? But how??”

He allows his eyes t slowly adjust to the bright light, recognizing features of the room around him that it indeed is the place he had stayed during his alcohol rehab after his wife had passed away. A door suddenly opens as Goth turns his head to the direction where the sound had come from, recognizing the person that had just entered the room with him.

”This can’t be happening to me….”

And there in front of him stands the man that had been treating him during the period that he had rehabbed for his alcohol abuse. Doctor Johnson, a kind but strict man that he had gotten to know throughout the period of time that he had spent there, wearing a sad look upon his face as he sat down next to him.

”Why are you back Gerrit? I thought you had cleaned up your act?”

The words bore a hole through his soul, realizing what he was implying. But this cannot be true, he has not had a drop of alcohol in many years since he had sobered up. He wants to answer Doctor Johnson, but realizes that he had a gag inside his mouth. Instinctively he wants to reach for it to pull out of his mouth, but his arms are tied to the bed that he is resting on by many leather straps across his chest and arms as well as his legs. Causing a bell to ring as he had never been in this situation that he is right now.

His eyes stare pleadingly towards the man that helped him through his rehab, begging towards him to let him go. But the only sound he could make was nothing more than some sort of mumbling

”Mhhmmmff Mhhhhmmmfff”

Doctor Johnson shakes his head with a sad look upon his face, as if every muffled word he could understand.

”I am afraid I cannot do that Gerrit, no patient that fails his or her sobriety after being declared rehabbed won’t be allowed a moment alone. I had so great hopes for you Gerrit, You truly let me down….”

The words causes a shiver to run down his spine, staring at the man that had treated him so many years ago. But suddenly he hears the voice of his deceased father speaking to him through the doctor. This causes his body to spasm in uncontrollable emotion of pain, rage and even hope. The one hope that he never had, a chance to talk to his father, something that he never got the opportunity to do. His arms are shaking intensively against the leather straps, trying to break free from its grip only to fail.

”You hurt me and your mother son”

Continues the voice of his father speak through the mouth that opens and closes with every word, the mouth that was not a part of his father. And yet there he was, tears are flowing from his eyes as feels the love he always felt for this man, combined with the utter shame of breaking his heart during his teenage years. Got tries to adjust his mouth and lips in a way to try and tel his father how sorry he was, hoping that he could forgive him. But to no avail, as he could only produce mumbling sounds. He finally stops his foolish attempts after a few more tries, feeling a cold shiver run down his spine as he arches his back all of the sudden as he feels a cold sensation take control of his body. He is shaking his head from left to right, unable to stop the muscles in his neck forcing him to shake like a mad man.

”Why did you do it my son? Why have you fallen back to old ways?? I thought you were happy with Melissa… I cannot understand why you are doing this to me…”

Goth’s eyes widen as he sees flesh slowly vanish from the face of the man that looks like his doctor and sounds like his father. He sees the empty holes where the man’s eyes once were. He sees the bone structure of the skull all the way towards the neck and then shoulders and rib cage. Asking himself why this is constantly happening to him before suddenly remembering a name.

”Lady Ashe….”

The anger causes his jaw somehow snap the gag, breaking it into a million pieces as it suddenly vanishes.His upper body starts to push itself uncontrollably on and off the table as the goo reemerges, but this time it does not cause fear to come over him as he knows who is behind it.

“SHOW YOURSELF!!!!”

Goth screams out in agony, there’s a moment of silence before he hears the echo of a familiar laughter. The Doctor/Father figure has now completely stripped down towards a skeleton that stands there in front of him,awaiting the arrival of the vampire woman that has been haunting Goth for months now in his dreams. Goth realizes there’s no need for him to struggle, because he knows that there’s no use for it as he relaxes. He notices the chamber has changed into a chamber of an ancient castle. He notices burning candles against the walls with several feet separating them to create an eerie atmosphere. He hears footsteps approaching him as the familiar high heels clicking upon the stone floor, accompanied by several softer steps and growling sounds as well.

“Oh God, she brought the hell hounds…. Great.”

A soft howl is heard as he hears the familiar voice of Ashe telling the hound to calm down, causing it to react in a disgruntled fashion. It has been ages since Goth had seen her hellhounds, the dogs that played an important role in her career before he took her down in their first ever confrontation. Ultimately they had vanished upon from his own mind as he could not remember them anymore, wondering how in the hell they could be back after so many years since that day

“Dogs produce pups Gerrit, I thought you knew”

A voice echoes through the hallway as she is approaching him, he stares at the open entrance as there’s nothing but darkness in front of him, making it impossible for him to tell how far away she is from him. Taking a few moments to adjust his eyes when he notices a silhouette of the pale white skin of the woman he had known as his biggest rival turned into a dissapointment. Something that he knew she had taken very personal, mostly because she knew it was the truth.

He sees the slit that reveals the left inner thigh from the woman, noticing that the muscular body part has not changed a damn thing after sixteen years. Causing him to admire her ability to seemingly stay as youthful as possible, making him hate himself for admiring the one person he hates the most right now.

“Come on now Gerrit, don’t take things so personally. Your hatred is truly blinding you.”

“Blinding me?? Why don’t you unclasp those leather straps and I will blind YOU!!!!”

The words cause her to let out a soft, but dark laughter. Shaking her head as she enters the vicinity of where Goth is tied up and watched by a dead creature. She is followed by two Hellhounds, that are similar to the originals that accompanied her in the past. She is holding a white cat in the palm of her hand, stroking its head with the other. He can hear the cat purr very loud, wondering why he had not head it as she had approached him. He snaps out of his thoughts as he notices her suddenly stand next to him, dropping her cat gently upon the table as it starts to investigate the tied up man.

“So it is true, you are indeed a cat person…”

She says with a sinister tone in her voice as she lowers herself closer to his face. He turns his gaze away from her as he smelled the foul breath from her mouth, making him sickening. He senses the sharp nails of the cat as its paw touches his shoulder as it gets stuck against his shirt.

“I remember your pathetic attempt to run a company, playing a role where you called yourself the Gothfather. I saw you play with a white cat just like this one, isn’t it ironic that I bring every memory back in your life???”

He growls in anger, closing his hands into fists as the long nails dig into his flesh. The cat slowly jumps on top of him and slowly approaches Goth towards his chest before nestling itself upon him.

“It loves you Gerrit, just like seemingly worthless loves the Gothic One. How pathetic to think that you are one of the most loved and referred wrestlers… while it should have been ME.”

The words causes a chuckle to emerge upon his face, shaking his head in disagreement.

“I never thought to have heard you utter the words love, as if you have known how to love in your entire miserable life.”

This causes her smile to vanish into a sickening look of anger, she suddenly grabs his throat with both hands as she lowers her face near his. Pulling Goth’s face towards hers in a violent way. Her breathing is now even more violent than a few moments ago as he can see her lick her lips before watching her tongue touch her fangs.

“I could just end your life like that Gerrit.”

“No you won’t, because you need me so much more than I need you.”

He says with a laugh that is combined with several loud coughs as she squeezes his throat even tighter, making it harder for him to breathe.

“I don’t need anyone Gerrit, especially not you.”

But her words aren’t convincing enough for him as he manages to look her deep down her blood red eyes.

“Oh yes you do, come to think of it. You are not even real, you justshow up in my dreams uninvited in an attempt to startle me?? Why don’t you show up for real for a change.”

The rage in her eyes turns darker, he can tell that the words have an impression upon her as she is starting to have second thoughts. But that only lasts a moment before turning her gaze back upon him, looking at him with a new look of determination.

“For you it all seems so clear isn’t it Gerrit? You sleep when you close your eyes, you are awake when you reopen them. I have wished upon a more simpler life, but the way you describe things causes the hair to stand up on the back of my neck of pure simplicity. I need to alter that Gerrit, before it is too late. I….”

“Too late for what??”

His eyes are fixated upon the woman he has grown to hate, but she doesn’t respond in words. She looks over at the skeleton and nods her head, causing Goth to turn his attention towards him as he notices him placing a lid on top of him. This causes Goth to react in shock as he all of the sudden notices that he is inside a coffin.

“GET ME OUT OF HERE ELIZABETH!!!!”

The scream is loud and violent, causing the woman to shiver all over her body as she walks out of the room with a sickening smile upon her face.

To be continued

it’s day, Goth is seated at the edge of the swimming pool while drinking some orange juice while reading some papers. Wearing some sunglasses and a casual shirt along with knee high shorts that fits the shirt perfectly.

“Interesting to see how the buyrates of the Wednesday shows on XWF has jumped up immensely since my in ring debut on that show against LSM.”

He says with a smirk, for him it’s anything BUT a surprise that the interest of XWF Programming on wednesday night has increased since the news broke that he had signed with that company besides Sin City Wrestling. He takes another sip from the glass of orange juice as he drops the papers and grabbed some notes that he had written on a notebook.

“I have to say that surprises do not come often in this industry, but I was surely treated by some major surprises this past week. you surely must have witnessed yourself people.”

Goth takes off his sunglasses and leans back against the chair that he is seated upon, staring into the camera with a look of utter dissapointment.

“I have to admit, it’s just like going on a first date. You never know what you can expect from the other person. It makes the situation that you will find yourself so exciting, only to realize that you either come home with a heart filled with love or merely a foul taste in your mouth. And thank goodness I’n not going to be dating any of these three, but please……”

He runs his hands through his hair, pushing it backwards while having his concentration solely focused upon the camera.

“I don’t even know who I will grant the honor of being the first to be educated in how to cut a promo. I mean everyone can open their mouth to let out some bad breath, but I have come to the conclusion that some of you believe that letting out a sound could be appreciated… and I use that term loosely, but appreciated by people that have made a living of reviewing anything that takes place on National television. And for what?? So that people could watch them on Youtube, critique them on whether they agree witht heir assumptions or not. And I guess I just got lucky by hitting the jackpot with these three. So I guess I am forced to do exactly that, to at least being able to delve inside their made up minds of theirs and give them an either two thumbs up…. or two thumbs down.

“But don’t worry, for those who have not lived in a society that there have been a distinguished difference between people that actually mattered and those who don’t…. I will educate you all, so that at the end of this promo you will be educated. Too bad that when reality hits you in the face, that it is already too late.”

He runs through the notes of his notebook before finally stopping at the third page as he reads what he had written down.

“Now I am one that has been taught to appreciate those who have accomplished something. And when I realized that someone actually accomplished exactly that what I wanted to do, I realized how fortunate this man should be. And apparently someone got really upset and started a gossip corner for the company when I mentioned a woman’s name too often. So for those who have the benefit of understanding the concept of reading between the lines…. Please, don’t. It will only cause a certain chromosome to get all worked up for no fucking reason.”

“Anyways, back to the topic at hand. I thought this certain…., let’s call her Jane Doe got taken for what she truly is… a failure, a joke and a laughing stock when someone took her title away. I assumed that at least things would get better, but I realize now that I have been sadly mistaken and I realize that I must do whatever civilized human being should do in a similar situation like mine. Dedicating this match that I am destined to win to every other champion that took pride in their accomplishments instead of being exactly THAT what Big Preesh is all about.”

Goth groans, lifting his left hand towards his face and rubs his fingers against his forehead, trying to rub away the frustration of actually having to address the man that is still the Xtreme champion.

”I am trying to understand, trust me I really do. I tried to look at it from the left, then from the right. I even tried to put on some fake glasses, in the hope of finding any trace of a possible intelligent life form that has not yet been discovered. And all I return to is nothing more than a pile of shit. I’m sorry, it’s the best that I could come up with in such a short notice that would resemble anything positive so far in your hopefully not so long career.”

“On a positive note though, I realize that anything that I am saying about you is already way above your head my friend. So do me a favor, please allow me to beat the living shit out of you. It will tell you a few things about the difference between you and the rest of this clusterfuck of a match for that matter and me. Because there’s only one true competitor that takes pride and has the dignity of even entering this match. You just put the true meaning of being a wrestler to shame. But you will do me and the entire world of breathing mammals a favor after I beat the shit out of you and leave you lying for the ten count. Because that’s what YOU and the rest of this so-called opposition in this match deserves to receive.”

He leans his head backwards, tracing his hair with his hands as they fall loosely into the void behind his back. He whispers something that could not be identified by the microphone, but it never sounded anything remotely positive.

”Now who to choose? A man that has confused the message of the Master Of Puppets song from Metallica and what it is like to be in the middle of the ring. And then we have the lady that has confused my already short, yet impressive XWF Wikepedia page and what my motives are for mentioning other wrestlers that I have already faced in the past. You see that’s the correct narrative, the past. Because that’s all what it is, you cannot retrieve it and alter it. The only thing that you can do is acknowledge it and move on…. Something that is apparently a clueless concept for her. But trust me, I have enough for her to mentally swallow inside that pea sized brain of hers, in the hope of perhaps being able to witness a lifelike evolution of how mankind have evolved from being living cave creatures to the idiots that could open an app to be educated by socials in how to live without being able to think. Trust me sweetcakes, you would have been better off with a Bam Bam ripoff while bashing some rocks for a living.

“Now I understand that this may come across as very female unfriendly remarks, for those who have a very sensitive soul…. I apologize, but I am a wrestler and I can verbally assault men, women or even the next door neighbors poodle just as good as I just did to the unidentified living entity that is Big Preesh without even caring whether you got something that others don’t or not.”

“I have not come this far in my career to care whether I should strike a woman that is dumb enough to sign underneatht he dotted line for being a wrestler, a wrestler that agrees to fight men or female. I just tell it like I see it, tell it like it is. And if the almighty and delusional cumquat decide to become a Skip Bayless of wrestling gossiping, then by all means… be my guest. It’s only acknowledging the fact that you feel the need to be acknowledged by your peers, just like each and every other wrestler out there. The only difference is that you seek it for the wrong reasons. And all I got to say to you is to not worry, not worry about the fact whether I will be mentioning your name in the days, weeks or months to come. Because after I have knocked you down for the count of ten, your entire existence will be erased from my mind as others would do with a hard drive tha is filled with nothing more than garbage and crap.”

“But don’t worry Atara, I will not forget that you are also here to do exactly what I intend to do. To take home the XWF Xtreme championship belt, the only difference is between you and me is the fact that you need it to remove yourself from the bottom of the foodchain that is wrestling. And you may come out here, start to yell and scream and tell the world that all I am saying is false. But that’s because your wrestling existence has been nothing more than a programmed lie.”

“A lie that you have started to believe in every single day since you joined a wrestling company, a lie that one day you could mount to anything special. To make headlines and have people talk to others of ever seeing you wrestle as if it was something special. And all i can tell that if your insecure jibber jabber that you executed the other day on the microphone is any indication of what you will be able to do inside that wrestling ring?? Then I would truly be surprised if you have played a mental trick upon us in not revealing anything that would make you who the fuck you truly are.”

Goth shakes his head in disbelief as he rubs his hands across his face a few times before dropping them across his lap as he sits forwards in the chair.

”I have acknowledged Game Girl in my past promo against Jane Doe my pretty, acknowledging her in expressing my respect for her doing what she had done to me. But is that a certain protocol to reautharate every past accomplishment in my wrestling career that was a misstep? A failure or even worse, the biggest mistake of my entire existence??? I guess that would make you sound very gullible in the eyes little children that seek a hero to believe in, going even so far to acknowledge lies to be reversed in truths as long as it would benefit their hero in order to have the believe that one day it would benefit themselves as well.”

He stares into the camera and has a big grin on his face while shaking his head in disbelief.

”The only problem for you is that you will neve be able to keep up that sharade for too long my dear. And neither will you be able to keep up with me when we face each other, because in the end I will outlast you. I will out preserve you and most importantly, I will beat you down so hard that eventually you will start to beg for me to stop..”

“I cannot phantom what these words would do to your inner peace, or should I say the lack off. Because if my words that I have uttered a week ago had stung, then i guess that you are being electrocuted in a fashion that your brain would melt as I am just getting started. You see, the words I had uttered were never meant to anger you. Those words were never meant to rattle you. they were merely meant to tell the truth, And the mere fact that you are incapable of handling the truth tells the world exactly what you are all about. An extra that was thrown into this match for whatever reason. Because I guess you had forgotten the fact that it was MY championship belt that was taken away from me underneath my nose merely because Jane Doe could not keep up her end of the deal. But I guess you are too uptight to see past the assumption that it was a fluke.”

“I could have retired years ago every time I received a Dollar for any other short sighted individual that could not see past their own nose. I am just curious what the excuse will be next time that you show your face on National Television and blame your lack of being anything beyond an extra.

“I earned the chance to fight for that championship belt, I earned it by making two people tap out that were supposedly better than me. You know what it should allow you to process Atara?? That indeed I got beat and that I beat two others to get here. Four matches in and I am headlining one of the three nights of this supposedly greatest show of the year. in just my fourth match. So if that means that I have to rattle some brains here and there to get people upset for the mere truth?? So be it, because reality hits you in the face just as hared before I knock you down for another ten count.”

Goth shakes his head as he takes a deep breath before turning his focus back upon the camera.

”And even though I could talk about you forever, just like I could about my past accomplishments. But I am not as shortsighted as you Atara. But just like every good thing in life, even you must come to an end. Because there’s another individual tha I cannot take seriously. And I am sure all of you people must be thinking why Goth?? Why do you need to besmirch the career of the Ring Master??”

“Because it’s quite obvious isn’t it?? I have already uttered my reasons the last time that I addressed the world upon the subject of the Ring Master. The name in itself has created expectations of the highest level. A level that I expect myself to reach sooner than later. And a level that I can clearly state that this man is not even close to reach. And I know that these are the moments that people will tell you that he needs time to accomplish his goals in life.”

this causes Goth’s expression to harden before starting to scream out loud.

”NO!!!! Of course these are excuses from people that seek an excuse to soothe the pain. Whereas you need to accept every misstep in life and move on, because just like I tried to explain the other delusional personification of stupidity that it is nothing more than a moment in life. One moment it’s here, the next it’s gone. You just seem like you have never been here in the first place Ring Master. And i may be wrong, I may have to eat my words in the reality realm of your own existence. But when we step foot on that rooftop my friend, all realities will be swallowed completely by the reality that is Goth. The greatest wrestler that has ever lived, a wrestler that has lost here and there…. but ultiamtely already has carved a legacy in this company that you people are all too blind to recognize.

“But just like the other two in this match, I am here to educate. I am here to open your eyes and see the way of the Goth. You just have to be willing to open up and allow the world to be one…. Extreme Mess. Because I intend to knock you all down for the count of ten, because all of you have been pinned here and there. And it will never educate you into believing the words that I preach. So I will knock the living shit out of you, just like I will against the other two competitors… because only that will set you free and I shall be crowned… Xtreme champion of X….W……F…..”

With that the shot fades as Goth walks off.

[Image: gothbanner2.png]

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[Image: goth_banner.jpg]

The Genesis of Goth 

Chapter Seven: Seriously??



It’s early in the morning, Goth just woke up and has gotten out of his bed to take a shower. Enjoying the warm water splashing upon his face and his naked bod as he leans his head backwards, his eyes are closed as he thinks back to the wonderful night he had with Melissa. Having gone to a restaurant before taking a nice walk as he had placed his jacket around her shoulders to keep her from getting cold, ultimately having the night end with them making passionate love. He had noticed that Melissa had already left the bed when he had woken up, leaving him a message telling that she had gone to the gym. This caused him to smile as she had been a bigger gym freak than he was.

“I’m getting too old for this”

He chuckles, words he remembered coming from his father’s mouth as he remembered him when his father was his age,always complaining before getting into the shower as he prepared to go to work. His father was a good man, their lives back then were just a miserable one. He had wished that he could have supported his parents back then with the money he was making now, at least money that he hadn’t earned on the streets.

“Stop it….”

He puts both of his hands towards his skull, digging his fingers deep into the side of his head, as if he was trying to dig out the memories that he was ashamed of. His teenage years where he had been easily influenced by the wrong people, combined with the financial problems his parents were having had made him try to make an easy buck. We see tears flow down his cheeks in combination with the water that is splashing down his face, thining back at his first attempt to ship drugs to another country.

“Forgive me mom, dad…. I was so stupid back then….”

He lowers his head as his forearms are leaning against the shower walls, feeling the warm water hit the back of his neck and his back. Desperately trying to forget the memories of him being caught by the security and handed over to the police. He never cared for being caught, but the shame came when they had called his parents, informing them of what he had done. The look on her mothers face still haunts him to this very day, he could tell that she had cried all the time. While his father wouldn’t want to look at him or talk to him, a moment where he had felt so helpless and stupid.

It was the first time that he had come in contact with the law, sadly it wasn’t the last either. His mother tried to help him, but he was being rebellious. Wanting so desperately the forgiveness of his father after the first mishap. Trying so hard to explain that what he had done was wrong, but that he had done it for them. But his father would not want to hear any of it.

“I’m so sorry dad….”

He says in a soft whisper that is barely herd through the splashing water, he remembers that his father had died not much later through a heart attack as he was still serving his sentence. It had enraged him that he could not get a leave to visit his father’s funeral, something that many relatives and their friends had blamed him for. Even he himself had sleepless nights from it, the reage had even caused him to attack another inmate that had been taunting him for something as silly as his long hair. It was the first time that he had come in contact with the same rage that he knew his father could have had when provoked, yet he still loved that man.

He had tried to better his life, because he had promised his mother when he was finally released from prison and had visited his father’s grave for the first time. Sadly enough he was trying to convince himself even though his misery had dragged him deeper into drug abuse that had taken a shot that very same day after coming home. He hadn’t cared about his drug abuse, the true painful moment came when his mother had caught him stealing money from her to get himself another shot. That day was the day that she had kicked him out of the house and forced him to wander the streets.

He doesn’t blame her now, but back then he felt that everyone was against him. As if the world never even dared to love him. 17 year old Drug Addict, wandering the streets without anyone looking out for him… Well except for the supposedly friends of course. He sighs as he shakes off the thoughts for a few moments, wiping the tears away from underneath his eyes with the back of his wet hand.

“God, why was I such an asshole?”

He was part of a gang, he still has the tattoos to remind himself every single day how fortunate he is to have gotten a second chance, being able to live a normal life instead of being a drug addict or even worse… dead. And all because someone he had fallen in love with, someone that he thought would never love him back. The woman that ultimately became his wife, someone that to this very day he told himself that he had not deserved her and her love. And yet she had spend a majority of his life by his side, helping him overcome his abuse and even meeting his mother after he had made it as a wrestler. Once again feeling the love of the one person that he had always loved the most, but was too ashamed to have asked her for forgiveness. Something he finally received, but always knew in the back of his head that he didn’t deserve it.

“Knock, knock.”.

He snaps his head back after hearing Melissa’s voice, clearing his face with a few more rubs from the back of his hand before realizing how silly that may have looked. He opens the shower door slightly while popping his head through it.

“I’m almost done, You can…..”

His words slowly fade as his eyes trail over the beautiful naked body of his fiance Melissa, she grins towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kisses him passionately. Causing him to groan as he feels her soft lips engulf his own. His arms instinctively wrap around her slender waist, his hands caressing her as slowly everything starts to become a blur to him as if he had been drinking alcohol once more. He wants to pull away from her even though his body is resisting the warnings that his brain is attempting to communicate with him. He suddenly feels his body being enwrapped closer towards Melissa by some sort of tentacles, causing Goth to suddenly open his eyes and seeing a near dead being standing in front of him. Flesh rotting off of her bone structure like body, he feels an immense power containing him as he tries harder to break free from it but fails.

”What’s wrong Gerrit?”

This freaks Goth out, hearing the voice of his fiance talking to him while staring at a body that must have decayed for many years. He feels the tentacles bore a hole through his body as it enters his stomach and exits him from the back. Causing him to scream out in agony as he cannot contain his agony anymore.A sudden rush comes over him, managing to break his arms free and push the figure away from him as he attempts to run away from it. His feet buckle underneath him as he falls down o the bathroom floor as soon as he made contact with it.

”Oh my God, you are bleeding. I will call the medical staff immediately!!!”

Goth hears Melissa scream, he manages to look up as he sees her well curved body run away from him. Making him wonder what had happened to the creature. Causing him to turn around and see nothing else but the shower room, with the shower head hanging loosely from it’s holder, where we see blood pour from it. Goth stares closer to the shower head, wondering where the blood had come from before remembering as he touches his stomach. He slowly rises his hand back towards his face as he sees blood drip from his fingers.

”Good God, what is going on??”

He starts to talk out loud, not even being able to keep his own thoughts to himself. He tries to regain composure s he suddenly see his blood that is oozing in the floor of the shower turn into dark black goo. Causing his brain to realize who is behind it, only to cause his eyes to fade as his brain shuts down.

Goth ultimately wakes up, resting upon a bed in a room he cannot remember ever having slept in his entire life. He looks at the room, realizing that he is no longer in the hotel that he and Melissa had been staying at as he assumes that he is at a hospital.

”Melissa??”

His words softly croak from his dry mouth, he can tell that he has not drank anything in quite some time. Making him wonder whether he truly is in a hospital as this causes him to look around, only to lift a hand above his eyes as the light is blinding him. He quickly lifts an arm in front of his face, realizing that he is wearing a white satin shirt, causing alarm bells to ring as he remembers the last time that he had worn a shirt like this.

”The alcohol rehab facinity?? But how??”

He allows his eyes t slowly adjust to the bright light, recognizing features of the room around him that it indeed is the place he had stayed during his alcohol rehab after his wife had passed away. A door suddenly opens as Goth turns his head to the direction where the sound had come from, recognizing the person that had just entered the room with him.

”This can’t be happening to me….”

And there in front of him stands the man that had been treating him during the period that he had rehabbed for his alcohol abuse. Doctor Johnson, a kind but strict man that he had gotten to know throughout the period of time that he had spent there, wearing a sad look upon his face as he sat down next to him.

”Why are you back Gerrit? I thought you had cleaned up your act?”

The words bore a hole through his soul, realizing what he was implying. But this cannot be true, he has not had a drop of alcohol in many years since he had sobered up. He wants to answer Doctor Johnson, but realizes that he had a gag inside his mouth. Instinctively he wants to reach for it to pull out of his mouth, but his arms are tied to the bed that he is resting on by many leather straps across his chest and arms as well as his legs. Causing a bell to ring as he had never been in this situation that he is right now.

His eyes stare pleadingly towards the man that helped him through his rehab, begging towards him to let him go. But the only sound he could make was nothing more than some sort of mumbling

”Mhhmmmff Mhhhhmmmfff”

Doctor Johnson shakes his head with a sad look upon his face, as if every muffled word he could understand.

”I am afraid I cannot do that Gerrit, no patient that fails his or her sobriety after being declared rehabbed won’t be allowed a moment alone. I had so great hopes for you Gerrit, You truly let me down….”

The words causes a shiver to run down his spine, staring at the man that had treated him so many years ago. But suddenly he hears the voice of his deceased father speaking to him through the doctor. This causes his body to spasm in uncontrollable emotion of pain, rage and even hope. The one hope that he never had, a chance to talk to his father, something that he never got the opportunity to do. His arms are shaking intensively against the leather straps, trying to break free from its grip only to fail.

”You hurt me and your mother son”

Continues the voice of his father speak through the mouth that opens and closes with every word, the mouth that was not a part of his father. And yet there he was, tears are flowing from his eyes as feels the love he always felt for this man, combined with the utter shame of breaking his heart during his teenage years. Got tries to adjust his mouth and lips in a way to try and tel his father how sorry he was, hoping that he could forgive him. But to no avail, as he could only produce mumbling sounds. He finally stops his foolish attempts after a few more tries, feeling a cold shiver run down his spine as he arches his back all of the sudden as he feels a cold sensation take control of his body. He is shaking his head from left to right, unable to stop the muscles in his neck forcing him to shake like a mad man.

”Why did you do it my son? Why have you fallen back to old ways?? I thought you were happy with Melissa… I cannot understand why you are doing this to me…”

Goth’s eyes widen as he sees flesh slowly vanish from the face of the man that looks like his doctor and sounds like his father. He sees the empty holes where the man’s eyes once were. He sees the bone structure of the skull all the way towards the neck and then shoulders and rib cage. Asking himself why this is constantly happening to him before suddenly remembering a name.

”Lady Ashe….”

The anger causes his jaw somehow snap the gag, breaking it into a million pieces as it suddenly vanishes.His upper body starts to push itself uncontrollably on and off the table as the goo reemerges, but this time it does not cause fear to come over him as he knows who is behind it.

“SHOW YOURSELF!!!!”

Goth screams out in agony, there’s a moment of silence before he hears the echo of a familiar laughter. The Doctor/Father figure has now completely stripped down towards a skeleton that stands there in front of him,awaiting the arrival of the vampire woman that has been haunting Goth for months now in his dreams. Goth realizes there’s no need for him to struggle, because he knows that there’s no use for it as he relaxes. He notices the chamber has changed into a chamber of an ancient castle. He notices burning candles against the walls with several feet separating them to create an eerie atmosphere. He hears footsteps approaching him as the familiar high heels clicking upon the stone floor, accompanied by several softer steps and growling sounds as well.

“Oh God, she brought the hell hounds…. Great.”

A soft howl is heard as he hears the familiar voice of Ashe telling the hound to calm down, causing it to react in a disgruntled fashion. It has been ages since Goth had seen her hellhounds, the dogs that played an important role in her career before he took her down in their first ever confrontation. Ultimately they had vanished upon from his own mind as he could not remember them anymore, wondering how in the hell they could be back after so many years since that day

“Dogs produce pups Gerrit, I thought you knew”

A voice echoes through the hallway as she is approaching him, he stares at the open entrance as there’s nothing but darkness in front of him, making it impossible for him to tell how far away she is from him. Taking a few moments to adjust his eyes when he notices a silhouette of the pale white skin of the woman he had known as his biggest rival turned into a dissapointment. Something that he knew she had taken very personal, mostly because she knew it was the truth.

He sees the slit that reveals the left inner thigh from the woman, noticing that the muscular body part has not changed a damn thing after sixteen years. Causing him to admire her ability to seemingly stay as youthful as possible, making him hate himself for admiring the one person he hates the most right now.

“Come on now Gerrit, don’t take things so personally. Your hatred is truly blinding you.”

“Blinding me?? Why don’t you unclasp those leather straps and I will blind YOU!!!!”

The words cause her to let out a soft, but dark laughter. Shaking her head as she enters the vicinity of where Goth is tied up and watched by a dead creature. She is followed by two Hellhounds, that are similar to the originals that accompanied her in the past. She is holding a white cat in the palm of her hand, stroking its head with the other. He can hear the cat purr very loud, wondering why he had not head it as she had approached him. He snaps out of his thoughts as he notices her suddenly stand next to him, dropping her cat gently upon the table as it starts to investigate the tied up man.

“So it is true, you are indeed a cat person…”

She says with a sinister tone in her voice as she lowers herself closer to his face. He turns his gaze away from her as he smelled the foul breath from her mouth, making him sickening. He senses the sharp nails of the cat as its paw touches his shoulder as it gets stuck against his shirt.

“I remember your pathetic attempt to run a company, playing a role where you called yourself the Gothfather. I saw you play with a white cat just like this one, isn’t it ironic that I bring every memory back in your life???”

He growls in anger, closing his hands into fists as the long nails dig into his flesh. The cat slowly jumps on top of him and slowly approaches Goth towards his chest before nestling itself upon him.

“It loves you Gerrit, just like seemingly worthless loves the Gothic One. How pathetic to think that you are one of the most loved and referred wrestlers… while it should have been ME.”

The words causes a chuckle to emerge upon his face, shaking his head in disagreement.

“I never thought to have heard you utter the words love, as if you have known how to love in your entire miserable life.”

This causes her smile to vanish into a sickening look of anger, she suddenly grabs his throat with both hands as she lowers her face near his. Pulling Goth’s face towards hers in a violent way. Her breathing is now even more violent than a few moments ago as he can see her lick her lips before watching her tongue touch her fangs.

“I could just end your life like that Gerrit.”

“No you won’t, because you need me so much more than I need you.”

He says with a laugh that is combined with several loud coughs as she squeezes his throat even tighter, making it harder for him to breathe.

“I don’t need anyone Gerrit, especially not you.”

But her words aren’t convincing enough for him as he manages to look her deep down her blood red eyes.

“Oh yes you do, come to think of it. You are not even real, you justshow up in my dreams uninvited in an attempt to startle me?? Why don’t you show up for real for a change.”

The rage in her eyes turns darker, he can tell that the words have an impression upon her as she is starting to have second thoughts. But that only lasts a moment before turning her gaze back upon him, looking at him with a new look of determination.

“For you it all seems so clear isn’t it Gerrit? You sleep when you close your eyes, you are awake when you reopen them. I have wished upon a more simpler life, but the way you describe things causes the hair to stand up on the back of my neck of pure simplicity. I need to alter that Gerrit, before it is too late. I….”

“Too late for what??”

His eyes are fixated upon the woman he has grown to hate, but she doesn’t respond in words. She looks over at the skeleton and nods her head, causing Goth to turn his attention towards him as he notices him placing a lid on top of him. This causes Goth to react in shock as he all of the sudden notices that he is inside a coffin.

“GET ME OUT OF HERE ELIZABETH!!!!”

The scream is loud and violent, causing the woman to shiver all over her body as she walks out of the room with a sickening smile upon her face.

To be continued

it’s day, Goth is seated at the edge of the swimming pool while drinking some orange juice while reading some papers. Wearing some sunglasses and a casual shirt along with knee high shorts that fits the shirt perfectly.

“Interesting to see how the buyrates of the Wednesday shows on XWF has jumped up immensely since my in ring debut on that show against LSM.”

He says with a smirk, for him it’s anything BUT a surprise that the interest of XWF Programming on wednesday night has increased since the news broke that he had signed with that company besides Sin City Wrestling. He takes another sip from the glass of orange juice as he drops the papers and grabbed some notes that he had written on a notebook.

“I have to say that surprises do not come often in this industry, but I was surely treated by some major surprises this past week. you surely must have witnessed yourself people.”

Goth takes off his sunglasses and leans back against the chair that he is seated upon, staring into the camera with a look of utter dissapointment.

“I have to admit, it’s just like going on a first date. You never know what you can expect from the other person. It makes the situation that you will find yourself so exciting, only to realize that you either come home with a heart filled with love or merely a foul taste in your mouth. And thank goodness I’n not going to be dating any of these three, but please……”

He runs his hands through his hair, pushing it backwards while having his concentration solely focused upon the camera.

“I don’t even know who I will grant the honor of being the first to be educated in how to cut a promo. I mean everyone can open their mouth to let out some bad breath, but I have come to the conclusion that some of you believe that letting out a sound could be appreciated… and I use that term loosely, but appreciated by people that have made a living of reviewing anything that takes place on National television. And for what?? So that people could watch them on Youtube, critique them on whether they agree witht heir assumptions or not. And I guess I just got lucky by hitting the jackpot with these three. So I guess I am forced to do exactly that, to at least being able to delve inside their made up minds of theirs and give them an either two thumbs up…. or two thumbs down.

“But don’t worry, for those who have not lived in a society that there have been a distinguished difference between people that actually mattered and those who don’t…. I will educate you all, so that at the end of this promo you will be educated. Too bad that when reality hits you in the face, that it is already too late.”

He runs through the notes of his notebook before finally stopping at the third page as he reads what he had written down.

“Now I am one that has been taught to appreciate those who have accomplished something. And when I realized that someone actually accomplished exactly that what I wanted to do, I realized how fortunate this man should be. And apparently someone got really upset and started a gossip corner for the company when I mentioned a woman’s name too often. So for those who have the benefit of understanding the concept of reading between the lines…. Please, don’t. It will only cause a certain chromosome to get all worked up for no fucking reason.”

“Anyways, back to the topic at hand. I thought this certain…., let’s call her Jane Doe got taken for what she truly is… a failure, a joke and a laughing stock when someone took her title away. I assumed that at least things would get better, but I realize now that I have been sadly mistaken and I realize that I must do whatever civilized human being should do in a similar situation like mine. Dedicating this match that I am destined to win to every other champion that took pride in their accomplishments instead of being exactly THAT what Big Preesh is all about.”

Goth groans, lifting his left hand towards his face and rubs his fingers against his forehead, trying to rub away the frustration of actually having to address the man that is still the Xtreme champion.

”I am trying to understand, trust me I really do. I tried to look at it from the left, then from the right. I even tried to put on some fake glasses, in the hope of finding any trace of a possible intelligent life form that has not yet been discovered. And all I return to is nothing more than a pile of shit. I’m sorry, it’s the best that I could come up with in such a short notice that would resemble anything positive so far in your hopefully not so long career.”

“On a positive note though, I realize that anything that I am saying about you is already way above your head my friend. So do me a favor, please allow me to beat the living shit out of you. It will tell you a few things about the difference between you and the rest of this clusterfuck of a match for that matter and me. Because there’s only one true competitor that takes pride and has the dignity of even entering this match. You just put the true meaning of being a wrestler to shame. But you will do me and the entire world of breathing mammals a favor after I beat the shit out of you and leave you lying for the ten count. Because that’s what YOU and the rest of this so-called opposition in this match deserves to receive.”

He leans his head backwards, tracing his hair with his hands as they fall loosely into the void behind his back. He whispers something that could not be identified by the microphone, but it never sounded anything remotely positive.

”Now who to choose? A man that has confused the message of the Master Of Puppets song from Metallica and what it is like to be in the middle of the ring. And then we have the lady that has confused my already short, yet impressive XWF Wikepedia page and what my motives are for mentioning other wrestlers that I have already faced in the past. You see that’s the correct narrative, the past. Because that’s all what it is, you cannot retrieve it and alter it. The only thing that you can do is acknowledge it and move on…. Something that is apparently a clueless concept for her. But trust me, I have enough for her to mentally swallow inside that pea sized brain of hers, in the hope of perhaps being able to witness a lifelike evolution of how mankind have evolved from being living cave creatures to the idiots that could open an app to be educated by socials in how to live without being able to think. Trust me sweetcakes, you would have been better off with a Bam Bam ripoff while bashing some rocks for a living.

“Now I understand that this may come across as very female unfriendly remarks, for those who have a very sensitive soul…. I apologize, but I am a wrestler and I can verbally assault men, women or even the next door neighbors poodle just as good as I just did to the unidentified living entity that is Big Preesh without even caring whether you got something that others don’t or not.”

“I have not come this far in my career to care whether I should strike a woman that is dumb enough to sign underneatht he dotted line for being a wrestler, a wrestler that agrees to fight men or female. I just tell it like I see it, tell it like it is. And if the almighty and delusional cumquat decide to become a Skip Bayless of wrestling gossiping, then by all means… be my guest. It’s only acknowledging the fact that you feel the need to be acknowledged by your peers, just like each and every other wrestler out there. The only difference is that you seek it for the wrong reasons. And all I got to say to you is to not worry, not worry about the fact whether I will be mentioning your name in the days, weeks or months to come. Because after I have knocked you down for the count of ten, your entire existence will be erased from my mind as others would do with a hard drive tha is filled with nothing more than garbage and crap.”

“But don’t worry Atara, I will not forget that you are also here to do exactly what I intend to do. To take home the XWF Xtreme championship belt, the only difference is between you and me is the fact that you need it to remove yourself from the bottom of the foodchain that is wrestling. And you may come out here, start to yell and scream and tell the world that all I am saying is false. But that’s because your wrestling existence has been nothing more than a programmed lie.”

“A lie that you have started to believe in every single day since you joined a wrestling company, a lie that one day you could mount to anything special. To make headlines and have people talk to others of ever seeing you wrestle as if it was something special. And all i can tell that if your insecure jibber jabber that you executed the other day on the microphone is any indication of what you will be able to do inside that wrestling ring?? Then I would truly be surprised if you have played a mental trick upon us in not revealing anything that would make you who the fuck you truly are.”

Goth shakes his head in disbelief as he rubs his hands across his face a few times before dropping them across his lap as he sits forwards in the chair.

”I have acknowledged Game Girl in my past promo against Jane Doe my pretty, acknowledging her in expressing my respect for her doing what she had done to me. But is that a certain protocol to reautharate every past accomplishment in my wrestling career that was a misstep? A failure or even worse, the biggest mistake of my entire existence??? I guess that would make you sound very gullible in the eyes little children that seek a hero to believe in, going even so far to acknowledge lies to be reversed in truths as long as it would benefit their hero in order to have the believe that one day it would benefit themselves as well.”

He stares into the camera and has a big grin on his face while shaking his head in disbelief.

”The only problem for you is that you will neve be able to keep up that sharade for too long my dear. And neither will you be able to keep up with me when we face each other, because in the end I will outlast you. I will out preserve you and most importantly, I will beat you down so hard that eventually you will start to beg for me to stop..”

“I cannot phantom what these words would do to your inner peace, or should I say the lack off. Because if my words that I have uttered a week ago had stung, then i guess that you are being electrocuted in a fashion that your brain would melt as I am just getting started. You see, the words I had uttered were never meant to anger you. Those words were never meant to rattle you. they were merely meant to tell the truth, And the mere fact that you are incapable of handling the truth tells the world exactly what you are all about. An extra that was thrown into this match for whatever reason. Because I guess you had forgotten the fact that it was MY championship belt that was taken away from me underneath my nose merely because Jane Doe could not keep up her end of the deal. But I guess you are too uptight to see past the assumption that it was a fluke.”

“I could have retired years ago every time I received a Dollar for any other short sighted individual that could not see past their own nose. I am just curious what the excuse will be next time that you show your face on National Television and blame your lack of being anything beyond an extra.

“I earned the chance to fight for that championship belt, I earned it by making two people tap out that were supposedly better than me. You know what it should allow you to process Atara?? That indeed I got beat and that I beat two others to get here. Four matches in and I am headlining one of the three nights of this supposedly greatest show of the year. in just my fourth match. So if that means that I have to rattle some brains here and there to get people upset for the mere truth?? So be it, because reality hits you in the face just as hared before I knock you down for another ten count.”

Goth shakes his head as he takes a deep breath before turning his focus back upon the camera.

”And even though I could talk about you forever, just like I could about my past accomplishments. But I am not as shortsighted as you Atara. But just like every good thing in life, even you must come to an end. Because there’s another individual tha I cannot take seriously. And I am sure all of you people must be thinking why Goth?? Why do you need to besmirch the career of the Ring Master??”

“Because it’s quite obvious isn’t it?? I have already uttered my reasons the last time that I addressed the world upon the subject of the Ring Master. The name in itself has created expectations of the highest level. A level that I expect myself to reach sooner than later. And a level that I can clearly state that this man is not even close to reach. And I know that these are the moments that people will tell you that he needs time to accomplish his goals in life.”

this causes Goth’s expression to harden before starting to scream out loud.

”NO!!!! Of course these are excuses from people that seek an excuse to soothe the pain. Whereas you need to accept every misstep in life and move on, because just like I tried to explain the other delusional personification of stupidity that it is nothing more than a moment in life. One moment it’s here, the next it’s gone. You just seem like you have never been here in the first place Ring Master. And i may be wrong, I may have to eat my words in the reality realm of your own existence. But when we step foot on that rooftop my friend, all realities will be swallowed completely by the reality that is Goth. The greatest wrestler that has ever lived, a wrestler that has lost here and there…. but ultiamtely already has carved a legacy in this company that you people are all too blind to recognize.

“But just like the other two in this match, I am here to educate. I am here to open your eyes and see the way of the Goth. You just have to be willing to open up and allow the world to be one…. Extreme Mess. Because I intend to knock you all down for the count of ten, because all of you have been pinned here and there. And it will never educate you into believing the words that I preach. So I will knock the living shit out of you, just like I will against the other two competitors… because only that will set you free and I shall be crowned… Xtreme champion of X….W……F…..”

With that the shot fades as Goth walks off.

[Image: gothbanner2.png]

]]> <![CDATA[Nightmare On Gravy Lane (Continued)]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44591 Fri, 23 Sep 2022 12:02:03 -0700 (Gravy_Xtreme_5000)]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44591



Gravy sat alone in a dark room that was only dimly lit from the fire burning in the furnace.


[Image: GravyK.jpg]


In his ungloved hand was a glass of blood-red wine, from which he sipped regularly.
He read comics about his own past misdeeds to pass the time.


Soon she would fall asleep, and then it would be time to get down to business.


Her name was Robyn Gonzalez.


AKA, The "Latina Submission Machina".


A submission specialist, or so she claimed.


That didn't matter to Gravy. Submitting was for bitches and Gravy would rather lose an appendage than be a bitch!


Gravy had been stalking her for weeks.


The nightmare started out simple enough.


Just standard stuff like wrestling nude in front of a mocking crowd.


As the nights wore on her dreams began to become aggressively evil, playing into her daddy issues, personal struggles with her own moral alignment, and even the objectification by her superiors and colleagues.


Gravy took great pleasure in the pain and horror of LSM. This was the case for all of his victims.


That was until last night when LSM managed to rip off a piece of Gravy's 1:1 replica Freddy sweater. She took it with her from the realm of dreams to reality.


It wasn't the torn fabric that pissed Gravy off. He already fixed it with his potato fueled dream powers.


No, it was the fact that now LSM knew of Gravy's weakness.


She must have seen the film.


If she were to pull him out of the dream, he'd lose all of this power.


Gravy was sick of losing power!


That's why tonight he had to finish her off.


Tonight!


[Image: MOSHED-2022-9-16-21-8-42.gif]




Suddenly, he felt her presence. He smiled, his rotten teeth glistening in the dark.


"Time to play."


Gravy got up from his chair, put the wine and comic book on a nearby table, and approached  the only exit.


To reach LSM, he had to go through a dark corridor with four doors open, two on each side.


The first one held Gravy's earliest memories as a baby. He was being uneasily held by his birth mother. She was not cradling or playing with Gravy. Just holding him and listening to his cries with disgust on her face.


Gravy cried and cried and cried, but no motherly instinct would kick in. Gravy was abandoned long before she died.


He never knew his biological mother, or why she hated him so, but the dream world made him realize that there was absolutely no love between them.


Maybe she could sense the evil in her child early on? Maybe she was just a shit mother? Whatever the case, to his mother, Gravy was a curse, and after being confronted by these memories, Gravy thought that she was nothing more than a bitch.


”Hope you’re burning in Hell, bitch.”


The next doorway held Gravy's childhood memories. He was surrounded by an entire class of kids who were throwing pencils, scissors, and anything else they could find at him. They shouted insults and taunted him until Gravy ran away in tears.


Then the children laughed.


Later that day, Gravy found a squirrel caught in a trappers cage.


He beat it to death with a stick.


Killing animals.


There was something about holding power over something weaker than himself that made Gravy happy and allowed him to survive his harrowing childhood.


The third doorway showed Gravy in his teen years.


At the time he was under the care of a man named Mr. Johnson.


Mr. Johnson was anything but nice however.


He would beat Gravy with a belt over the tiniest of mistakes.


By this time, Gravy had graduated from killing animals to self-harm.


Mr. Johnson came downstairs with his belt off ready to give Grevy his "medicine."


Gravy loves this memory.


It was his first murder.


He’ll never forget the look on Johnson's face when he slashed his throat with that blade.


The fourth and final doorway held the most painful memories: his adult life.


He was married to a woman.


They had a daughter and son together.


Life was good for Gravy.


But he couldn't ignore his need to kill for long.


Soon the call to inflict harm would prove too intense to ignore.


Gravy would return to the XWF and begin a descent back into madness.


Gravy felt really sad passing through that final memory.


Back then he really tried his hardest to be a good person, but the world was just too cruel.


Gravy grew up without love and therefore couldn't understand it.


Even his family and the life that they built would, in the end, turn out to be just another dream.


There was no love for Gravy in this world, but it was fine since he had none left to give.


Gravy shook his head clear of these thoughts.


This was no time for a trip down memory lane.


He had a job to do.


When Gravy finally reached the boiler room, he was greeted by three children, two boys and one girl, all dressed in white. Gravy knew these kids all too well.


They were the spirits of children that he murdered as a human, now bound to him for all eternity.


"You know what to do." Gravy growled.


The young trio ran away from Gravy and he followed them. They would find her for him. Then they would lead him to her with their rhyme. Not even a minute had passed and Gravy could already hear the chant.


"1, 2 Gravy's coming for you."


He walked toward the sound.


"3, 4 Better lock your door."


He began flickering his claws in anticipation of the upcoming kill.


"5, 6 Grab your crucifix."


He could see the familiar and terrified face of his future victim.


"7, 8 Gonna stay up late."


He began dragging his blades against the wall as he approached her. The noise didn't bother him but it sure bothered her.


"9, 10 Never sleep again."


Gravy was now face to face with LSM. She had long black hair, smooth tan skin, and was clad only in a long white nightgown.


Minus her butterface, she was beautiful.


It was almost a shame Gravy had to kill her tonight.


Almost.


"Tonight's the night you meet your maker."


Gravy said. He raised his blades to her. "Any last words?"


"Just one." LSM pulled out a cross from behind her back. It transformed into a sword and with it, LSM sliced Gravy's right arm off. Blackish-green blood spurted from the trunk as the arm fell to the floor.


Gravy howled in agony. LSM picked up the severed arm and waved it mockingly at Gravy.


"Bet you didn't see that one coming, did ya?" She teased.


Gravy looked down at the stump that was his right arm. If he were in the real world, his blood would be dark red.


"You said just one and then puked up a whole sentence, you lying bitch!”


Gravy's arm snapped out of his stump complete with his blades, good as new.


"Why don't you leave one-liners to the professionals?" Gravy gestured to the severed arm LSM was holding which had now turned into a slithering python. Panicked, LSM threw the snake at Gravy and ran away.


"You won't get far bitch!" He said as he dodged the snake and gave chase. "You're in my world now!"


"It may be your world." LSM was heading toward a dead end.


Suddenly, wings sprouted from her bare back and she took flight, puncturing a hole through the boiler room. "But it's my dream."


Gravy wasn't bothered by this. He spouted black wings from his own back and flew through the same hole.


They were both now outside the boiler room, flying over an endless car graveyard.


Gravy saw LSM in the distance and increased his speed, losing his hat in the process.


It didn't matter. He'd reclaim it later.


As he was gaining on her, Gravy could see the four huge claw marks on her left arm, the other thing she took from their last encounter. Gravy smiled upon seeing those scars. He was gonna make them bigger. He raised his gloved hand ready to strike when LSM, out of the blue, veered around and kicked the glove right off his hand.


"Nice try, bicho raro!"


She punched him square in the face and Gravy found himself plummeting to the earth.


He crashed into some cars.


He was bleeding from his head and arms.


His left arm was broken and his sweater was ripped open, revealing the mortified faces of the hundreds of tortured souls dwelling inside him.
Despite all this, he managed to get up on his feet while LSM flew around like a giant fly.


"You're not even scary! You're not even scary!" LSM teased.


It reminded Gravy of the torment he endured as a child.


Those chants. Those horrible, mocking chants.


That was the last straw.


"You want to see scary, bitch!? I'll show you scary!" Gravy suddenly burst into flame. A spark from the huge fire caught on LSM's wings and burned them to a crisp, causing her to fall on top of a car, crushing it’s roof in her landing.
The flame went out and Gravy was transformed. He was now wearing the trench coat from his human years over his sweater and huge sections of his muscle were exposed. He had a new green fedora sitting on his head and his "glove" looked more organic, with five steel claws unsheathed from his fingertips.


LSM's eyes widened with fear. She ducked down on her knees and began to pray.


"Now I lay myself down to sleep. Master of Dreams, my soul I'll keep." She said in a shaky voice.


Gravy approached her and was ready to tear her to pieces, but he stopped when he suddenly had a very wicked idea.


He retracted his claws and with a snap of his fingers, LSM was back in her bed.


They were still in the dream world, but only Gravy knew it. He took the form of her father and materialized a copy of her mother next to him. He then opened the door.


"What's wrong sweetie?" Gravy asked in Charlie Nickles voice.


LSM herself was drenched in sweat and was on the brink of tears. "Dad!? Mom!?" She hugged both Gravy and the fake Mom tightly.


"I-I need Hypnocil." LSM whispered.
"What?" Gravy-Dad asked.


"I need Hypnocil! I can't handle the nightmares! I don't want to dream anymore!”


"But sweetie, Hypnocil is a very dangerous medicine. Why look at what it did to me." As she said this, LSM's "mother" began to melt before her eyes, which terrified LSM.


"Mamá!"


"We all need to dream young lady." Gravy said as his disguise began to fade away. "JUST LIKE WE ALL NEED TO GET FUCKED!”


Before the LSM could react, Gravy lifted his bladed glove high above her.


LSM looked on in fear as Gravy's blades transmuted into dildos of various colors!


"Abandonment issues? I'll be your daddy, bitch!"


Gravy swung his arm like he was pitching a softball, but before his finger dildo's could make contact with their intended target, LSM vanished into thin air!


”What!? NOOO!!!”


Gravy was pissed!




”I guess we can save my pleasure in your pain for Relentless, which hey, FINE BY ME! Ole Gravy’s sick and tired of all of his fantasy’s being just that! The dream world sucks dick!"


"Out here, in the REAL world, I can feel your thick, warm, sticky blood running between my fingers and I can taste the salty excess discharging from your fucking corpose!”


“I’m sure you’d rather be anywhere but here, facing down the nastiest, grimiest, meanest son of a bitch that… Oh shit, I could be your dad! Well, no!”


“On second thought, I couldn’t! I mean, I’ve done a lot of fucked up shit in my life, fuck even if I had a cousin, I can say with full confidence that I’d never fuck her!”


“The same can’t be said about your bloodline, can it? Naw, just one look at that genepool deprived fucking face confirms your fucking lineage.”


[Image: Thunder-Rosa.jpg]


”And I’ll tell ya right now, I might have come up short against the Universal Champion and the idiot stealing my schtick to beat him, but when he does beat him it’ll just prove what most already know is true.”


“Gravy ain’t a fucker to mess with!”


“You HAVE messed with me, chika, and messed with me pretty bad! Some might go so far as to say that you fucked me real good. The two of us? We’ve been on a collision course for months! This match? It was never not going to happen!”


“The best part? You think you’re going to beat me just because I racked up a couple of losses to the Universal Champion and his Relentless contender Mark Flynn? Bitch, first of all, baby oil and the concrete floor beat me! Second of all, yer dumbass ain’t even sniffed the Uni scene’s crotch, much less earned yer’self a Superstar of the Month award by turning so many heads so quick you damn near got arrested for murder!”


“You HAVE managed to stink up the ring losing all over the fucking XWF! Goth, Ruby, Jason Cashe!? Nope, ain’t none of them fuckers on my level, and they sure as fuck ain’t no Uni contenders!”


“Well, maybe Ruby, but that would require her taking her head out of Centurion’s ass long enough to step outside of Anarchy for anything meaningful!”


“Chances of that happening are about as slim as your dumbass not realizing that you can’t play the noble hero while paling around with the most hated fucker in the XWF this side of me, daddy or no daddy!”


"Oh, and if anyone's gonna be crying backstage, it's going to be the thin skinned slut that already bawled her eyes out on national TV. Do you have no self respect!?"


"I know I don't! That shit was beaten out of me a long ass time ago, but it's fine, baby, because a man that doesn't respect himself, doesn't respect shit, including the so called sanctity of a woman's body, and I got all the motivation I need to take advantage of you in every fucking sense of the word!"


"Talkin' shit on Gravy, like you're anything special! Tell me, little girl, the fuck have you done since Relentless last year? Nothing of note? Huh, but I could've sworn you'd been fed opportunity after opportunity all year long! Hell, Im pretty sure your ass is running neck and neck for most undeserving title shots, except you ain't beating people up to get them, you're probably beating them off!"


"Oh, those nudies on yer phone make more sense now! No wonder you got all BOO-HOO when Big P, not to be confused with that fa- uh.... DUMMY, BIG D! That guy sucks, but Big P can't possibly suck, because he beat your ass backstage like a hundred fucking times as you desperately tried everything you could to save your honor and recapture that belt, and OH BOY DID IT LOOK DESPERATE!"


"My shit with you, baby doll, I was just having fun. Never wanted that Xtreme title, and sure as shit don't need it to prove how Xtreme I am. As a matter of fact, if anything that fucking belt needs ME to legitimize IT, because it's undeniable that you and all the pussies before you to carry that shit, haven't done a damn thing to live up to the titles namesake!"


"Xtreme rules: In my favor! Rabid bikers acting as lumberjacks: Likely racist republicans, and also in my favor! Wrestling in Green Hills? I fucking used to own at Sonic The Hedgehog! Even beat the shit out of Mario dressed up like him once, so OBVIOUSLY ALSO IN MY FAVOR!"


"You ain't got shit going for ya, 'cept a deadbeat daddy, a broken down jalopy,  and a world of fucking pain before you rack up yet another loss!"


"Afterwards, you can cry yourself to fucking sleep knowing that you're fake fucking personality ain't fool nobody, just like your fake ass submission talent hasn't fooled any damn one, especially after watching you submit to Jason Cashe's weak as fuck submission! Seriously, Flynn thinks my hands are bad? That was the most atrocious Crossface that I've ever seen, but fuck me if you weren't powerless to do shit about it!"


"Everything about you is fake bitch! Faker than Freddy! How many times have you had enough and been on the verge of showing us the "real you"!? The meaner, badder, no fuck giving LSM, all to ALWAYS reel it back in, because YOU know that mean you is just as shitty and talentless as fake you, but without the fucking ego stroke of hearing 10,000 idiots chant your name because the only people too stupid to see through you are the virgin fucking neckbeards that comprise the majority of the XWF's audience."


"At Relentless, LSM goes down, and Gravy goes up, straight to the Television Championship!"


A sinister grin falls over Gravy as he raises his right hand to reveal that he actually made a real life Freddy Glove!


"Time to play, bitch!"]]>



Gravy sat alone in a dark room that was only dimly lit from the fire burning in the furnace.


[Image: GravyK.jpg]


In his ungloved hand was a glass of blood-red wine, from which he sipped regularly.
He read comics about his own past misdeeds to pass the time.


Soon she would fall asleep, and then it would be time to get down to business.


Her name was Robyn Gonzalez.


AKA, The "Latina Submission Machina".


A submission specialist, or so she claimed.


That didn't matter to Gravy. Submitting was for bitches and Gravy would rather lose an appendage than be a bitch!


Gravy had been stalking her for weeks.


The nightmare started out simple enough.


Just standard stuff like wrestling nude in front of a mocking crowd.


As the nights wore on her dreams began to become aggressively evil, playing into her daddy issues, personal struggles with her own moral alignment, and even the objectification by her superiors and colleagues.


Gravy took great pleasure in the pain and horror of LSM. This was the case for all of his victims.


That was until last night when LSM managed to rip off a piece of Gravy's 1:1 replica Freddy sweater. She took it with her from the realm of dreams to reality.


It wasn't the torn fabric that pissed Gravy off. He already fixed it with his potato fueled dream powers.


No, it was the fact that now LSM knew of Gravy's weakness.


She must have seen the film.


If she were to pull him out of the dream, he'd lose all of this power.


Gravy was sick of losing power!


That's why tonight he had to finish her off.


Tonight!


[Image: MOSHED-2022-9-16-21-8-42.gif]




Suddenly, he felt her presence. He smiled, his rotten teeth glistening in the dark.


"Time to play."


Gravy got up from his chair, put the wine and comic book on a nearby table, and approached  the only exit.


To reach LSM, he had to go through a dark corridor with four doors open, two on each side.


The first one held Gravy's earliest memories as a baby. He was being uneasily held by his birth mother. She was not cradling or playing with Gravy. Just holding him and listening to his cries with disgust on her face.


Gravy cried and cried and cried, but no motherly instinct would kick in. Gravy was abandoned long before she died.


He never knew his biological mother, or why she hated him so, but the dream world made him realize that there was absolutely no love between them.


Maybe she could sense the evil in her child early on? Maybe she was just a shit mother? Whatever the case, to his mother, Gravy was a curse, and after being confronted by these memories, Gravy thought that she was nothing more than a bitch.


”Hope you’re burning in Hell, bitch.”


The next doorway held Gravy's childhood memories. He was surrounded by an entire class of kids who were throwing pencils, scissors, and anything else they could find at him. They shouted insults and taunted him until Gravy ran away in tears.


Then the children laughed.


Later that day, Gravy found a squirrel caught in a trappers cage.


He beat it to death with a stick.


Killing animals.


There was something about holding power over something weaker than himself that made Gravy happy and allowed him to survive his harrowing childhood.


The third doorway showed Gravy in his teen years.


At the time he was under the care of a man named Mr. Johnson.


Mr. Johnson was anything but nice however.


He would beat Gravy with a belt over the tiniest of mistakes.


By this time, Gravy had graduated from killing animals to self-harm.


Mr. Johnson came downstairs with his belt off ready to give Grevy his "medicine."


Gravy loves this memory.


It was his first murder.


He’ll never forget the look on Johnson's face when he slashed his throat with that blade.


The fourth and final doorway held the most painful memories: his adult life.


He was married to a woman.


They had a daughter and son together.


Life was good for Gravy.


But he couldn't ignore his need to kill for long.


Soon the call to inflict harm would prove too intense to ignore.


Gravy would return to the XWF and begin a descent back into madness.


Gravy felt really sad passing through that final memory.


Back then he really tried his hardest to be a good person, but the world was just too cruel.


Gravy grew up without love and therefore couldn't understand it.


Even his family and the life that they built would, in the end, turn out to be just another dream.


There was no love for Gravy in this world, but it was fine since he had none left to give.


Gravy shook his head clear of these thoughts.


This was no time for a trip down memory lane.


He had a job to do.


When Gravy finally reached the boiler room, he was greeted by three children, two boys and one girl, all dressed in white. Gravy knew these kids all too well.


They were the spirits of children that he murdered as a human, now bound to him for all eternity.


"You know what to do." Gravy growled.


The young trio ran away from Gravy and he followed them. They would find her for him. Then they would lead him to her with their rhyme. Not even a minute had passed and Gravy could already hear the chant.


"1, 2 Gravy's coming for you."


He walked toward the sound.


"3, 4 Better lock your door."


He began flickering his claws in anticipation of the upcoming kill.


"5, 6 Grab your crucifix."


He could see the familiar and terrified face of his future victim.


"7, 8 Gonna stay up late."


He began dragging his blades against the wall as he approached her. The noise didn't bother him but it sure bothered her.


"9, 10 Never sleep again."


Gravy was now face to face with LSM. She had long black hair, smooth tan skin, and was clad only in a long white nightgown.


Minus her butterface, she was beautiful.


It was almost a shame Gravy had to kill her tonight.


Almost.


"Tonight's the night you meet your maker."


Gravy said. He raised his blades to her. "Any last words?"


"Just one." LSM pulled out a cross from behind her back. It transformed into a sword and with it, LSM sliced Gravy's right arm off. Blackish-green blood spurted from the trunk as the arm fell to the floor.


Gravy howled in agony. LSM picked up the severed arm and waved it mockingly at Gravy.


"Bet you didn't see that one coming, did ya?" She teased.


Gravy looked down at the stump that was his right arm. If he were in the real world, his blood would be dark red.


"You said just one and then puked up a whole sentence, you lying bitch!”


Gravy's arm snapped out of his stump complete with his blades, good as new.


"Why don't you leave one-liners to the professionals?" Gravy gestured to the severed arm LSM was holding which had now turned into a slithering python. Panicked, LSM threw the snake at Gravy and ran away.


"You won't get far bitch!" He said as he dodged the snake and gave chase. "You're in my world now!"


"It may be your world." LSM was heading toward a dead end.


Suddenly, wings sprouted from her bare back and she took flight, puncturing a hole through the boiler room. "But it's my dream."


Gravy wasn't bothered by this. He spouted black wings from his own back and flew through the same hole.


They were both now outside the boiler room, flying over an endless car graveyard.


Gravy saw LSM in the distance and increased his speed, losing his hat in the process.


It didn't matter. He'd reclaim it later.


As he was gaining on her, Gravy could see the four huge claw marks on her left arm, the other thing she took from their last encounter. Gravy smiled upon seeing those scars. He was gonna make them bigger. He raised his gloved hand ready to strike when LSM, out of the blue, veered around and kicked the glove right off his hand.


"Nice try, bicho raro!"


She punched him square in the face and Gravy found himself plummeting to the earth.


He crashed into some cars.


He was bleeding from his head and arms.


His left arm was broken and his sweater was ripped open, revealing the mortified faces of the hundreds of tortured souls dwelling inside him.
Despite all this, he managed to get up on his feet while LSM flew around like a giant fly.


"You're not even scary! You're not even scary!" LSM teased.


It reminded Gravy of the torment he endured as a child.


Those chants. Those horrible, mocking chants.


That was the last straw.


"You want to see scary, bitch!? I'll show you scary!" Gravy suddenly burst into flame. A spark from the huge fire caught on LSM's wings and burned them to a crisp, causing her to fall on top of a car, crushing it’s roof in her landing.
The flame went out and Gravy was transformed. He was now wearing the trench coat from his human years over his sweater and huge sections of his muscle were exposed. He had a new green fedora sitting on his head and his "glove" looked more organic, with five steel claws unsheathed from his fingertips.


LSM's eyes widened with fear. She ducked down on her knees and began to pray.


"Now I lay myself down to sleep. Master of Dreams, my soul I'll keep." She said in a shaky voice.


Gravy approached her and was ready to tear her to pieces, but he stopped when he suddenly had a very wicked idea.


He retracted his claws and with a snap of his fingers, LSM was back in her bed.


They were still in the dream world, but only Gravy knew it. He took the form of her father and materialized a copy of her mother next to him. He then opened the door.


"What's wrong sweetie?" Gravy asked in Charlie Nickles voice.


LSM herself was drenched in sweat and was on the brink of tears. "Dad!? Mom!?" She hugged both Gravy and the fake Mom tightly.


"I-I need Hypnocil." LSM whispered.
"What?" Gravy-Dad asked.


"I need Hypnocil! I can't handle the nightmares! I don't want to dream anymore!”


"But sweetie, Hypnocil is a very dangerous medicine. Why look at what it did to me." As she said this, LSM's "mother" began to melt before her eyes, which terrified LSM.


"Mamá!"


"We all need to dream young lady." Gravy said as his disguise began to fade away. "JUST LIKE WE ALL NEED TO GET FUCKED!”


Before the LSM could react, Gravy lifted his bladed glove high above her.


LSM looked on in fear as Gravy's blades transmuted into dildos of various colors!


"Abandonment issues? I'll be your daddy, bitch!"


Gravy swung his arm like he was pitching a softball, but before his finger dildo's could make contact with their intended target, LSM vanished into thin air!


”What!? NOOO!!!”


Gravy was pissed!




”I guess we can save my pleasure in your pain for Relentless, which hey, FINE BY ME! Ole Gravy’s sick and tired of all of his fantasy’s being just that! The dream world sucks dick!"


"Out here, in the REAL world, I can feel your thick, warm, sticky blood running between my fingers and I can taste the salty excess discharging from your fucking corpose!”


“I’m sure you’d rather be anywhere but here, facing down the nastiest, grimiest, meanest son of a bitch that… Oh shit, I could be your dad! Well, no!”


“On second thought, I couldn’t! I mean, I’ve done a lot of fucked up shit in my life, fuck even if I had a cousin, I can say with full confidence that I’d never fuck her!”


“The same can’t be said about your bloodline, can it? Naw, just one look at that genepool deprived fucking face confirms your fucking lineage.”


[Image: Thunder-Rosa.jpg]


”And I’ll tell ya right now, I might have come up short against the Universal Champion and the idiot stealing my schtick to beat him, but when he does beat him it’ll just prove what most already know is true.”


“Gravy ain’t a fucker to mess with!”


“You HAVE messed with me, chika, and messed with me pretty bad! Some might go so far as to say that you fucked me real good. The two of us? We’ve been on a collision course for months! This match? It was never not going to happen!”


“The best part? You think you’re going to beat me just because I racked up a couple of losses to the Universal Champion and his Relentless contender Mark Flynn? Bitch, first of all, baby oil and the concrete floor beat me! Second of all, yer dumbass ain’t even sniffed the Uni scene’s crotch, much less earned yer’self a Superstar of the Month award by turning so many heads so quick you damn near got arrested for murder!”


“You HAVE managed to stink up the ring losing all over the fucking XWF! Goth, Ruby, Jason Cashe!? Nope, ain’t none of them fuckers on my level, and they sure as fuck ain’t no Uni contenders!”


“Well, maybe Ruby, but that would require her taking her head out of Centurion’s ass long enough to step outside of Anarchy for anything meaningful!”


“Chances of that happening are about as slim as your dumbass not realizing that you can’t play the noble hero while paling around with the most hated fucker in the XWF this side of me, daddy or no daddy!”


"Oh, and if anyone's gonna be crying backstage, it's going to be the thin skinned slut that already bawled her eyes out on national TV. Do you have no self respect!?"


"I know I don't! That shit was beaten out of me a long ass time ago, but it's fine, baby, because a man that doesn't respect himself, doesn't respect shit, including the so called sanctity of a woman's body, and I got all the motivation I need to take advantage of you in every fucking sense of the word!"


"Talkin' shit on Gravy, like you're anything special! Tell me, little girl, the fuck have you done since Relentless last year? Nothing of note? Huh, but I could've sworn you'd been fed opportunity after opportunity all year long! Hell, Im pretty sure your ass is running neck and neck for most undeserving title shots, except you ain't beating people up to get them, you're probably beating them off!"


"Oh, those nudies on yer phone make more sense now! No wonder you got all BOO-HOO when Big P, not to be confused with that fa- uh.... DUMMY, BIG D! That guy sucks, but Big P can't possibly suck, because he beat your ass backstage like a hundred fucking times as you desperately tried everything you could to save your honor and recapture that belt, and OH BOY DID IT LOOK DESPERATE!"


"My shit with you, baby doll, I was just having fun. Never wanted that Xtreme title, and sure as shit don't need it to prove how Xtreme I am. As a matter of fact, if anything that fucking belt needs ME to legitimize IT, because it's undeniable that you and all the pussies before you to carry that shit, haven't done a damn thing to live up to the titles namesake!"


"Xtreme rules: In my favor! Rabid bikers acting as lumberjacks: Likely racist republicans, and also in my favor! Wrestling in Green Hills? I fucking used to own at Sonic The Hedgehog! Even beat the shit out of Mario dressed up like him once, so OBVIOUSLY ALSO IN MY FAVOR!"


"You ain't got shit going for ya, 'cept a deadbeat daddy, a broken down jalopy,  and a world of fucking pain before you rack up yet another loss!"


"Afterwards, you can cry yourself to fucking sleep knowing that you're fake fucking personality ain't fool nobody, just like your fake ass submission talent hasn't fooled any damn one, especially after watching you submit to Jason Cashe's weak as fuck submission! Seriously, Flynn thinks my hands are bad? That was the most atrocious Crossface that I've ever seen, but fuck me if you weren't powerless to do shit about it!"


"Everything about you is fake bitch! Faker than Freddy! How many times have you had enough and been on the verge of showing us the "real you"!? The meaner, badder, no fuck giving LSM, all to ALWAYS reel it back in, because YOU know that mean you is just as shitty and talentless as fake you, but without the fucking ego stroke of hearing 10,000 idiots chant your name because the only people too stupid to see through you are the virgin fucking neckbeards that comprise the majority of the XWF's audience."


"At Relentless, LSM goes down, and Gravy goes up, straight to the Television Championship!"


A sinister grin falls over Gravy as he raises his right hand to reveal that he actually made a real life Freddy Glove!


"Time to play, bitch!"]]> <![CDATA[Miller Time: SLAY THE GOAT]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44582 Thu, 22 Sep 2022 10:54:20 -0700 BamMiller]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44582
We open up to an old Catholic Foster home in Detroit Michigan, The outside of the home isn't in good condition as the paint is falling off the walls, the front windows have boards on them, and the roof has a hole in the middle that the bright sun shines through. As we enter the home we notice it hasn't been open in a while as we see cobwebs and dust everywhere on the walls and ceiling while the floorboards creak with each step taken. We go deeper into the house as we walk up the old squeaky steps to the upstairs floor and then turn a corner into a room where the sun shines through the hole and down on Bam that sits on a kid-size Bed as he stares at the wall that has an old Wrestleverse poster of The Goat James Raven on it, he stares at it for a moment and even admires it a little before putting on a smirk as the camera zooms in.

I can almost remember it like it was yesterday I was nothing more than a teen when I went to my first wrestling event and it just so happens it was an XWF event at that and one of their biggest Wrestleverse where I saw James Raven wrestle for the first time live, sure I had seen him on TV before as he impressed us with his in-ring skill and the overly charming, charismatic attitude he carries with him, but seeing him in person was so different.

Bam looks at the poster again as he appreciates every detail of it.

I was already on the path to the wrestling business when I went to that show, the idea of being in the ring was always exciting to me, and being able to cause pain to another person was always a draw to me but then seeing James Raven The Goat himself perform at the highest level that many people say nobody else can reach and when James is at his best he is untouchable and that's why he's the Goat and it showed during that time of dominance he showed as he took out heavy hitter after heavy hitter. Hell, he even beat my agent and friend Chris Page whos just as much of a legend as the next guy but even he couldn't hold a candle next to prime James Raven.

Bam smiles as he sits there on the bed reminiscing.

I'm not even sure if James is aware of how many people he inspired to get into this business and try to have the same success as him. I can't even lie I've always been a fan of his because I could tell he really gave a damn about the fans and the product itself. James just doesn't show up to work, he shows up to create art, moments we will never forget and can only relive over and over again in our heads. James has created more dreamers than sleep has ever done. Just go ask any young star in the locker room about James Raven you would get the same answer and that he's the reason I'm here.

Bam pulls a black box from under his old bed and sits it to the side of him and pulls out an old XWF shirt with James Raven's autograph and then a picture of a young Bam with a primed James Raven together.

Man, this right here takes me back and was one of the best days I had growing up and I can remember it just so accurately because growing up in this dump wasn't too many great memories to hold on to but this one right here was special. I got to meet The Goat later that night at Wrestleverse. James was so cool and made me feel like he gave a damn that I had to hustle to get money to buy a ticket just to see him and it was worth it too, he really made my day when he agreed to take this picture and even told an orphan teen like I could grow up and be just like him. That meant a lot and gave me the extra fuel I needed to ignite my fire to grow deeper inside me. He set me on this path that led me here now. Meeting James Raven was surreal, to me it was like the Pope meeting God. That's how epic that day was for me because James gave me hope that a kid from Detroit Michigan could grow up and make something of himself. I thought I left a good impression of myself to James, but years later I would find out that wasn't true at all.

Bam stands up and reaches into his left pocket for his Newport cigarettes. He pulls one out and taps it on his hand before lighting it up and taking a few puffs, then blows the smoke out towards the hole in the roof as he looks up and watches the smoke dance off towards the sun as the wind blows it away.

You see James you may not remember but just last year and a couple of months ago I arrived in OCW, at the time they were a great company coming up and had signed a lot of great talent after their Margarita mix that I competed in and I was making big waves in the company when we started feuding with the XWF, I'm sure everyone remembers that. Hell that's how I met my agent Chris Page, back then I was willing to kick his ass but that's not important right now what is important is that the man I looked up to James Raven had no time for me, I could never get a one on one conversation with you and I understand you were running things as General Manager at the time and that probably kept you busy but then….

Bam takes another slow pull from his cigarette as he focuses on the poster again that hangs against the aging wall. He inhales the smoke and then blows it out in a form of an O.

OCW fired me and a bunch of other people and you let that happen to us, that's when I first started to second guess who you really are and I know you probably have guilt but you still let this happen under your watch. Do you know how heartbreaking and embarrassing that experience was? I gave my all to OCW and was ready to go to war against the XWF until that day happened and I could've thrown a fit like some of the others did on Twitter but not me. I sat back and weighed my options over and signed here with the XWF because they saw my value.

Bam pauses as he thinks about what he says next while puffing on his cigarette again to calm his nerves.

The place you made your legacy, saw that I could be a pillar for their future and they quickly put the rocket on my back as they put me in the path of one of their biggest stars at the time Jim Caedus who was holding the XWF Xtreme Championship at the time, a Championship that you brought so much prestige too during your time in the XWF, what was it eight or nine times you held that thing above your head? Yeah, that sounds right and I took it from Jim with one single swing with a brick, and just like that the Jim caedus era was over and I begin my rise into this company and the reason the company trusted me was that they know no matter who it is, I’ll show up and make it the must-see money fight. Fight?

Bam smirks as he rubs his fingers through his brown bearded chin.

Fight was so long ago but so fresh in my mind, especially your arrival. It was surreal to see you again this time as a competitor and not someone wearing the GM hat. You had the whole world's attention again as you helped NSQ remain in power. You created so much buzz and had the world talking about you again and there was legitimate excitement from the fans and even from your peers like me. We were all ready to see James Raven back in the ring and away from a desk. The dream matches that you could have with talents like Dickie Watson, Paul Montuori, Joe Montuori, and many more. You had the world in the palm of your hand, people were literally acting like it was the second coming of Jesus. Ticket prices, merchandise and anything else Fight could put your name on were selling quickly, and stadiums were packed out but then you failed to deliver on the hype…

Bam pauses for a moment and then takes another slow pull from his cigarette.

We waited to see what great things James Raven would accomplish in Fight, but you never really got going there and I'm sure you'll bring up winning the Island Titles with Atara but that was really beneath a man of your stature. You were supposed to come in and take Fight to the next level but all you did was become a background player in NSQ while Shawn and Dickie soaked up all the glory and fame. You faded away and so did the company before you could change that narrative and then everyone started to question does he even still have it.

Bam pulls out a Miller Lite beer from his black leather jacket and takes a few sips.

You've had a few good matches since then, your match with Chris Page at the DPI last February was a classic between two old rivals who wanted to see who was the better man this far down in their careers but we didn't get an answer to that because The Goat couldn't put Chris Page away and then you gave my good friend Peter Vaughn the fight of his life, hell it was his dream match and he really brought it to you despite what the critics thought but even then the great James Raven couldn't find a way to close out.

Bam shakes his head with a confident smile as he takes a sip of his beer.

It's just been such a long time since anyone could really call you a winner, for a while now we’ve been giving you the benefit of the doubt because of the nostalgia and the great moments you gave us in the past Raven. You know it’s funny how people said Matthew Knox was a great value Raven when you two share something in common… You both got put on your back by Corey Black! Nobody likes to bring it up because it is a blemish on your record but facts or facts you couldn’t get the job done then and like I explained earlier, you haven’t gotten the job done in a very long time, my friend. We might be going back to Relentless but there will be no turning back the clock and giving a vintage Raven performance.

He smirks with a bright smile as he reaches into his box and takes out a black dart and throws it at the James Raven poster.

The most accomplished thing you’ve done is fucked Atara, had a baby and tied the knot. Congratulations you're on track to being retired and I’m going to be the one to put you there. It’s clear as day that you lost love for this business a long time ago. That’s why you haven’t signed anywhere except where Atara tells you to because that rub from you better advances her career but as far as you doing anything worth talking about has been a dead subject for a long time, Raven.

He throws another dart and this time it lands on target as it hits James Raven's face.


That’s why I didn’t like seeing you at Warfare a few weeks ago, I could see past the cheesy smile and forced charisma that you were only back to steal the spotlight from young, hungry talent such as myself. I’m not even sure if you love the XWF as you claim because we only see you around this time of the year when the lights are the brightest and the media coverage is insane. You wanted it all for yourself but I wasn’t going to let that happen but you didn’t take me seriously James, you didn’t look at me as a threat to you. Instead, you looked at me as still that same child from way back then, you looked at me and thought to yourself who the fuck does this guy think he is stepping to me like we are seen on the same level. You turned your back on me and walked away with Atara like everything was good and sweet but you found out real quick I don’t do the jokes.


Bam laughs to himself for a moment as he rubs his hands through his brown beard and then takes a sip from his beer.

When I laid you out at the IIW Red Alert PPV that was a message to you that the fun and games were over and business was about to pick up. I don’t know if you’ve had time to talk to Page but he should’ve told you you done fucked up because The Slayer gets you in his sights there is no getting out of it and I know many people, including you, Page and he’ll even the fans think I don’t have a chance against you. I read the dirt sheets and see the comments from the fans. Nobody has faith in me to do what many others haven’t been able to do and that takes down The Goat!

Bam chugs the rest of his beer and then throws it against the dried-up paint-peeling wall.

They look at you and they look at me and they laugh in my face for even thinking I stand a chance of going against a Multi-time World Heavyweight Champion, a man that’s headlined many great events, and defeated legends and icons of this business. You have the world's respect but also their pity because they want to see you as still the charismatic Goat but in reality, they see the signs of your greatness deteriorating right in front of their eyes. You are no different from Jordan, Kobe, and Joe Montana who all had to come to terms late in their career that they just aren't the guy anymore, and while you have the better overall track record compared to me. Anyone I ever faced will tell you the same thing James, win or lose I'm going to take you to the limit, this will not be a one-sided affair like everyone thinks. To my gamblers out there you better bet on the underdog.

Bam points to himself.

You see why I lack the flash that James Raven has. I make up for it with what's inside of here.

Bam beats his fist against his heart.

I got a lot of heart and a ball of burning fire that's deep inside me and only grows more with each fuel of doubt from everyone that doesn't see me as a threat. I get fuel to prove everyone that ever doubted me wrong. I am driven to show my parents that they were dead wrong to leave be abounded in the dumpster. I m going to show them I have value and that I can be the man that beats The Goat James Raven. I got the memories of this fucked of place I stand in right now that fuel me each day because when I start to self-doubt and second guess myself I can always look back at my time in this hell hole that was supposed to give me the love and happiness that my parents rejected to give me but instead this place gave me pure rage and anger.

Bam grabs the picture of him and James Raven as he walks out of his old kid's room and walks down the hall for a few moments before coming to a closet with an old rusty lock on it that Bam is able to break easily with the brick that he pulled from his back pocket. He opens the door and the first thing that stands out in the dark quiet closet is a chair that has arm straps and leg straps attached to it along with the words Punishment Chair engraved on it.

They locked a lot of kids over the years in here as a way to punish us for our sins or whatever Mother Karen didn't feel like was holy enough for us to be doing, but none spent as much time as I did in here as I was locked away in the dark and unable to move. Just alone with my thoughts as I sat in here thinking about how fucked of a life I was given at a young age and I thought really hard about what I would do to change this situation for me, I had a lot of time to really think about it and that's when I made up my mind that I would do whatever it takes to better myself no matter what.

Bam closes the door and walks back down the hall as he heads toward the old raggedy squeaky steps, he's careful with each step he takes, knowing he could fall and hurt himself before Relentless. He takes one last step as he reaches the aging floors and walks into the kitchen and the first thing you notice is all the locks on the cabinets and refrigerator.

My hunger started a long time ago right here in this kitchen, Mother Karen didn't think we should have the right to feed ourselves, clearly, a ploy to make us rely on her even more but that cold bitch didn't give a damn if we were starving, not even if the other kids would cry themselves to sleep but not me. I got creative and found a way to outsmart her and feed my hunger. So to those that think I'm just some wild animal that's going to go in blind against James Raven without a plan you got another thing coming when I outsmart the clever Raven. There might not be any pins or submissions but I will walk away with the win when I ascend to the top of the Tower and hook up my electrical cord and shock James Raven back to reality.

Bam smirks as he walks out of the kitchen and heads for the front of the house as he picks up a gasoline can and pours gas throughout the house and really soaks the kitchen and upstairs rooms up the most before leaving out the front door and then takes a knife to him and James Raven photo that he leaves attached to the wall as he lights up a cigarette.

That reality will be that he is no longer the man or the Goat that ran the wrestling scene instead James you are nothing more than reputation at this point. You live off your past accomplishments because there is nothing to brag about these days except for playing second fiddle to Atara. After all, you no longer have the desire to be great and that's why I'm not calling our match a Dream Match as Peter did for you two because unlike my good friend Peter I know The Goat James Raven won't be standing across the ring from me.

Bam shakes his finger as he puffs on his cigarette again.

Instead, it will just be a shell of your former self and that's why I'm going to do the same favor they did gave Old Yeller when they put the old washed-up bitch out of its misery and I'm going to do the same thing to so you can finally hang it up the boots and go home and put on an apron and be the very best house dad you can be because your finished and I'm going to burn you from memory and make sure people remember that The story of Goat raven was a myth and he got Slayed by The Top Guy Slayer.

Bam takes one last long pull before tossing the cigarette into the fire as he walks away and the home gets absorbed into the fire as the smoke trails into the blue open sky and the last image we see is the picture of James and Bam fading away.


]]>
We open up to an old Catholic Foster home in Detroit Michigan, The outside of the home isn't in good condition as the paint is falling off the walls, the front windows have boards on them, and the roof has a hole in the middle that the bright sun shines through. As we enter the home we notice it hasn't been open in a while as we see cobwebs and dust everywhere on the walls and ceiling while the floorboards creak with each step taken. We go deeper into the house as we walk up the old squeaky steps to the upstairs floor and then turn a corner into a room where the sun shines through the hole and down on Bam that sits on a kid-size Bed as he stares at the wall that has an old Wrestleverse poster of The Goat James Raven on it, he stares at it for a moment and even admires it a little before putting on a smirk as the camera zooms in.

I can almost remember it like it was yesterday I was nothing more than a teen when I went to my first wrestling event and it just so happens it was an XWF event at that and one of their biggest Wrestleverse where I saw James Raven wrestle for the first time live, sure I had seen him on TV before as he impressed us with his in-ring skill and the overly charming, charismatic attitude he carries with him, but seeing him in person was so different.

Bam looks at the poster again as he appreciates every detail of it.

I was already on the path to the wrestling business when I went to that show, the idea of being in the ring was always exciting to me, and being able to cause pain to another person was always a draw to me but then seeing James Raven The Goat himself perform at the highest level that many people say nobody else can reach and when James is at his best he is untouchable and that's why he's the Goat and it showed during that time of dominance he showed as he took out heavy hitter after heavy hitter. Hell, he even beat my agent and friend Chris Page whos just as much of a legend as the next guy but even he couldn't hold a candle next to prime James Raven.

Bam smiles as he sits there on the bed reminiscing.

I'm not even sure if James is aware of how many people he inspired to get into this business and try to have the same success as him. I can't even lie I've always been a fan of his because I could tell he really gave a damn about the fans and the product itself. James just doesn't show up to work, he shows up to create art, moments we will never forget and can only relive over and over again in our heads. James has created more dreamers than sleep has ever done. Just go ask any young star in the locker room about James Raven you would get the same answer and that he's the reason I'm here.

Bam pulls a black box from under his old bed and sits it to the side of him and pulls out an old XWF shirt with James Raven's autograph and then a picture of a young Bam with a primed James Raven together.

Man, this right here takes me back and was one of the best days I had growing up and I can remember it just so accurately because growing up in this dump wasn't too many great memories to hold on to but this one right here was special. I got to meet The Goat later that night at Wrestleverse. James was so cool and made me feel like he gave a damn that I had to hustle to get money to buy a ticket just to see him and it was worth it too, he really made my day when he agreed to take this picture and even told an orphan teen like I could grow up and be just like him. That meant a lot and gave me the extra fuel I needed to ignite my fire to grow deeper inside me. He set me on this path that led me here now. Meeting James Raven was surreal, to me it was like the Pope meeting God. That's how epic that day was for me because James gave me hope that a kid from Detroit Michigan could grow up and make something of himself. I thought I left a good impression of myself to James, but years later I would find out that wasn't true at all.

Bam stands up and reaches into his left pocket for his Newport cigarettes. He pulls one out and taps it on his hand before lighting it up and taking a few puffs, then blows the smoke out towards the hole in the roof as he looks up and watches the smoke dance off towards the sun as the wind blows it away.

You see James you may not remember but just last year and a couple of months ago I arrived in OCW, at the time they were a great company coming up and had signed a lot of great talent after their Margarita mix that I competed in and I was making big waves in the company when we started feuding with the XWF, I'm sure everyone remembers that. Hell that's how I met my agent Chris Page, back then I was willing to kick his ass but that's not important right now what is important is that the man I looked up to James Raven had no time for me, I could never get a one on one conversation with you and I understand you were running things as General Manager at the time and that probably kept you busy but then….

Bam takes another slow pull from his cigarette as he focuses on the poster again that hangs against the aging wall. He inhales the smoke and then blows it out in a form of an O.

OCW fired me and a bunch of other people and you let that happen to us, that's when I first started to second guess who you really are and I know you probably have guilt but you still let this happen under your watch. Do you know how heartbreaking and embarrassing that experience was? I gave my all to OCW and was ready to go to war against the XWF until that day happened and I could've thrown a fit like some of the others did on Twitter but not me. I sat back and weighed my options over and signed here with the XWF because they saw my value.

Bam pauses as he thinks about what he says next while puffing on his cigarette again to calm his nerves.

The place you made your legacy, saw that I could be a pillar for their future and they quickly put the rocket on my back as they put me in the path of one of their biggest stars at the time Jim Caedus who was holding the XWF Xtreme Championship at the time, a Championship that you brought so much prestige too during your time in the XWF, what was it eight or nine times you held that thing above your head? Yeah, that sounds right and I took it from Jim with one single swing with a brick, and just like that the Jim caedus era was over and I begin my rise into this company and the reason the company trusted me was that they know no matter who it is, I’ll show up and make it the must-see money fight. Fight?

Bam smirks as he rubs his fingers through his brown bearded chin.

Fight was so long ago but so fresh in my mind, especially your arrival. It was surreal to see you again this time as a competitor and not someone wearing the GM hat. You had the whole world's attention again as you helped NSQ remain in power. You created so much buzz and had the world talking about you again and there was legitimate excitement from the fans and even from your peers like me. We were all ready to see James Raven back in the ring and away from a desk. The dream matches that you could have with talents like Dickie Watson, Paul Montuori, Joe Montuori, and many more. You had the world in the palm of your hand, people were literally acting like it was the second coming of Jesus. Ticket prices, merchandise and anything else Fight could put your name on were selling quickly, and stadiums were packed out but then you failed to deliver on the hype…

Bam pauses for a moment and then takes another slow pull from his cigarette.

We waited to see what great things James Raven would accomplish in Fight, but you never really got going there and I'm sure you'll bring up winning the Island Titles with Atara but that was really beneath a man of your stature. You were supposed to come in and take Fight to the next level but all you did was become a background player in NSQ while Shawn and Dickie soaked up all the glory and fame. You faded away and so did the company before you could change that narrative and then everyone started to question does he even still have it.

Bam pulls out a Miller Lite beer from his black leather jacket and takes a few sips.

You've had a few good matches since then, your match with Chris Page at the DPI last February was a classic between two old rivals who wanted to see who was the better man this far down in their careers but we didn't get an answer to that because The Goat couldn't put Chris Page away and then you gave my good friend Peter Vaughn the fight of his life, hell it was his dream match and he really brought it to you despite what the critics thought but even then the great James Raven couldn't find a way to close out.

Bam shakes his head with a confident smile as he takes a sip of his beer.

It's just been such a long time since anyone could really call you a winner, for a while now we’ve been giving you the benefit of the doubt because of the nostalgia and the great moments you gave us in the past Raven. You know it’s funny how people said Matthew Knox was a great value Raven when you two share something in common… You both got put on your back by Corey Black! Nobody likes to bring it up because it is a blemish on your record but facts or facts you couldn’t get the job done then and like I explained earlier, you haven’t gotten the job done in a very long time, my friend. We might be going back to Relentless but there will be no turning back the clock and giving a vintage Raven performance.

He smirks with a bright smile as he reaches into his box and takes out a black dart and throws it at the James Raven poster.

The most accomplished thing you’ve done is fucked Atara, had a baby and tied the knot. Congratulations you're on track to being retired and I’m going to be the one to put you there. It’s clear as day that you lost love for this business a long time ago. That’s why you haven’t signed anywhere except where Atara tells you to because that rub from you better advances her career but as far as you doing anything worth talking about has been a dead subject for a long time, Raven.

He throws another dart and this time it lands on target as it hits James Raven's face.


That’s why I didn’t like seeing you at Warfare a few weeks ago, I could see past the cheesy smile and forced charisma that you were only back to steal the spotlight from young, hungry talent such as myself. I’m not even sure if you love the XWF as you claim because we only see you around this time of the year when the lights are the brightest and the media coverage is insane. You wanted it all for yourself but I wasn’t going to let that happen but you didn’t take me seriously James, you didn’t look at me as a threat to you. Instead, you looked at me as still that same child from way back then, you looked at me and thought to yourself who the fuck does this guy think he is stepping to me like we are seen on the same level. You turned your back on me and walked away with Atara like everything was good and sweet but you found out real quick I don’t do the jokes.


Bam laughs to himself for a moment as he rubs his hands through his brown beard and then takes a sip from his beer.

When I laid you out at the IIW Red Alert PPV that was a message to you that the fun and games were over and business was about to pick up. I don’t know if you’ve had time to talk to Page but he should’ve told you you done fucked up because The Slayer gets you in his sights there is no getting out of it and I know many people, including you, Page and he’ll even the fans think I don’t have a chance against you. I read the dirt sheets and see the comments from the fans. Nobody has faith in me to do what many others haven’t been able to do and that takes down The Goat!

Bam chugs the rest of his beer and then throws it against the dried-up paint-peeling wall.

They look at you and they look at me and they laugh in my face for even thinking I stand a chance of going against a Multi-time World Heavyweight Champion, a man that’s headlined many great events, and defeated legends and icons of this business. You have the world's respect but also their pity because they want to see you as still the charismatic Goat but in reality, they see the signs of your greatness deteriorating right in front of their eyes. You are no different from Jordan, Kobe, and Joe Montana who all had to come to terms late in their career that they just aren't the guy anymore, and while you have the better overall track record compared to me. Anyone I ever faced will tell you the same thing James, win or lose I'm going to take you to the limit, this will not be a one-sided affair like everyone thinks. To my gamblers out there you better bet on the underdog.

Bam points to himself.

You see why I lack the flash that James Raven has. I make up for it with what's inside of here.

Bam beats his fist against his heart.

I got a lot of heart and a ball of burning fire that's deep inside me and only grows more with each fuel of doubt from everyone that doesn't see me as a threat. I get fuel to prove everyone that ever doubted me wrong. I am driven to show my parents that they were dead wrong to leave be abounded in the dumpster. I m going to show them I have value and that I can be the man that beats The Goat James Raven. I got the memories of this fucked of place I stand in right now that fuel me each day because when I start to self-doubt and second guess myself I can always look back at my time in this hell hole that was supposed to give me the love and happiness that my parents rejected to give me but instead this place gave me pure rage and anger.

Bam grabs the picture of him and James Raven as he walks out of his old kid's room and walks down the hall for a few moments before coming to a closet with an old rusty lock on it that Bam is able to break easily with the brick that he pulled from his back pocket. He opens the door and the first thing that stands out in the dark quiet closet is a chair that has arm straps and leg straps attached to it along with the words Punishment Chair engraved on it.

They locked a lot of kids over the years in here as a way to punish us for our sins or whatever Mother Karen didn't feel like was holy enough for us to be doing, but none spent as much time as I did in here as I was locked away in the dark and unable to move. Just alone with my thoughts as I sat in here thinking about how fucked of a life I was given at a young age and I thought really hard about what I would do to change this situation for me, I had a lot of time to really think about it and that's when I made up my mind that I would do whatever it takes to better myself no matter what.

Bam closes the door and walks back down the hall as he heads toward the old raggedy squeaky steps, he's careful with each step he takes, knowing he could fall and hurt himself before Relentless. He takes one last step as he reaches the aging floors and walks into the kitchen and the first thing you notice is all the locks on the cabinets and refrigerator.

My hunger started a long time ago right here in this kitchen, Mother Karen didn't think we should have the right to feed ourselves, clearly, a ploy to make us rely on her even more but that cold bitch didn't give a damn if we were starving, not even if the other kids would cry themselves to sleep but not me. I got creative and found a way to outsmart her and feed my hunger. So to those that think I'm just some wild animal that's going to go in blind against James Raven without a plan you got another thing coming when I outsmart the clever Raven. There might not be any pins or submissions but I will walk away with the win when I ascend to the top of the Tower and hook up my electrical cord and shock James Raven back to reality.

Bam smirks as he walks out of the kitchen and heads for the front of the house as he picks up a gasoline can and pours gas throughout the house and really soaks the kitchen and upstairs rooms up the most before leaving out the front door and then takes a knife to him and James Raven photo that he leaves attached to the wall as he lights up a cigarette.

That reality will be that he is no longer the man or the Goat that ran the wrestling scene instead James you are nothing more than reputation at this point. You live off your past accomplishments because there is nothing to brag about these days except for playing second fiddle to Atara. After all, you no longer have the desire to be great and that's why I'm not calling our match a Dream Match as Peter did for you two because unlike my good friend Peter I know The Goat James Raven won't be standing across the ring from me.

Bam shakes his finger as he puffs on his cigarette again.

Instead, it will just be a shell of your former self and that's why I'm going to do the same favor they did gave Old Yeller when they put the old washed-up bitch out of its misery and I'm going to do the same thing to so you can finally hang it up the boots and go home and put on an apron and be the very best house dad you can be because your finished and I'm going to burn you from memory and make sure people remember that The story of Goat raven was a myth and he got Slayed by The Top Guy Slayer.

Bam takes one last long pull before tossing the cigarette into the fire as he walks away and the home gets absorbed into the fire as the smoke trails into the blue open sky and the last image we see is the picture of James and Bam fading away.


]]> <![CDATA[Back to the What the Actual...]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44579 Wed, 21 Sep 2022 19:15:40 -0700 Atara Raven]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44579 "Hello There Dove"
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"Att...Atty is that you? Why are you dressed like Leave It To Beavers Mom?""

"Do you like? I bought it special for tonight? You remember what tonight is right Calvin?"
[Image: Afu1Rr6.gif]

"Tonight? Wait...who's Calvin?"

"You are Dove..."
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"Atty....."
[Image: 7C6817c.gif]


snorts
[Image: VQjKARQ.gif]

"I didnt know I owned purple underwear! What the is even going on?"

"You forgot? It's roleplay night James. We're doing Back to the Future for Relentless now just go with it and help your Mother with her flushed capacitor"
[Image: 91IJRE3.gif]

Ew God woman, what the actual....and it's flux. Flux Capacitor!"

Oh no Dove. It's flushed. It's very flushed.

"You better not be filming this"

For those of you hoping for some DancingRave'NGirl erotic Atty James fan fiction, this is the part where we unfortunately have to inform you that this is where the clip ends. Now if you're wondering, if there's no sex tape why is my time being wasted with this poorly executed parody vignette if it's not leading to anything interesting? The answer to that Doves, is obviously, we're trying to be topical and current and pull that same nostalgia fuelled 40 to ancient demographic the XWF is targeting in a little piece promoting James and I new reality show The Ravens airing soon on whatever network we have promotional material due for.


Oh really Atty? Like that one wrestling couple does already? No you effin malakas, not like that one. It's completely original! Its gonna be sophisticated and mature and not full of lighthearted shenanigans and aww moments! Just watch it!


Ring Master

It's supper time at the Raven household and while they don't live in America nor are one of the two American, they sit at the table like the model Golden Age American family. Being the busy lot they are, while they huddle around the gargantuan Greek feast Housewife Atty as prepared, the television set is going as they watch the promos and do film study on upcoming opponents. Naturally, this being an Atara piece, it's her opponent Ring Master on the screen.

[Image: hCFqr7I.gif]

Both a befuddled Mrs. Raven and her stepson Tyler look at the excited Mr. Raven, their confusion plastered on their faces. "But how Dad, this one is brand new?" inquiries the young Raven as is step mother nods with her affirmation.

"No, it can't be. I've seen it. I swear. The setup, the speech, and everything. You remember don't honey?" James says trying to convince them otherwise.

"No dear husband, we have never seen this one before. You must have him confused," she answers doing her best breathy Jackie Kennedy impression.

"No, we have. It's the guy, that conquers everything and let's nothing stop him."

Atara shakes her head, "No Dove. That's the Ring Master. He has never conquered anything and is literally stopped by everything. He's predictable and dull as fuck. My 1940ish internet viral refrigerator with the moving shelves has more versatility. Though it does hold less bullshit."

Dull! Impossible, he's the the life of the party. A literal comedian. See, he just said so." making his plea, James gestures to the television.

"Mom always says if you bring home anything but Greek olive again she's gonna chop your dick off and eat it like a gyro but she never does."

Tyler! Atara interjects before giving a scolding. "How dare you pronounce Gyro wrong! Your sister could hear!"

"You said it was fine?"

It doesn't matter! We're getting off topic.


...it does matter. California is not Greece. I said Greek olive oil. I bring home a jug and you bring home a tiny bottle and Ring Master has not once told a joke or a funny one!"

"Ok. I see you're point.

He hasn't told a joke or said anything funny in this one, but we're not done with the olive oil thing.

"I know I'm right. You think you've seen this one because it's all the Ring Master does. He sticks to the same script, much like in the ring, and telegraphs everything. You can tell he's another one who doesn't do his homework and thinks he can get buy with talent alone or bark louder, longer, and more often and try to scare an opponent.

He's resting on laurels that he clearly doesn't have and lies through his teeth every time he gets on the mic. He's not the hardest worker, he's not the most talented, he's not the future, and he's most definitely not the next XWF Xtreme Champion

He would very much like to be everyone's hero, the center of attention, but the Ring Master forgets no one pays to see the guy with the whip. They pay to see the fucking tigers and this tigeress can't exactly be caged.

I'm gonna rip his fuck.....

A knock on the door cuts Atara off and she  goes to answer."Vinnie?

[Image: 0uCtfOy.gif]

"Hey Atara, I left my binoculars in the tree. You guys gotta ladder?"



Big Preesh

"Why are you even entertaining this Atty? Why I'm I letting you let me entertain this? It's Vinnie." asks a frustrated and unwilling James Raven.

"I don't know. It seemed plausible and he's a scientist or something. You can't argue science James." responded the assured honeyed rasp of Atara.

Looking at his wife in disbelief James threw his head back.

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"We all have I our vices James and besides,"Atara paused canting her head and giving an admonishing look. "Don't act like you never tried to peep me from with from Centurion's when we were kids.

"Well, I'm your husband now for one and it's not peeping when you shout Hey James! and show me your titties everytime I was there."

"What's it going to hurt?" a now blushing Atty responded.

"It's just...it's Vinnie and I don't see what some fat kid with a lisp has to do with the physics of time."[blue]

"It's not a lisp, he says it like that on purpose. Preesh. Makes him feel hip and connected to the youth." Atty corrected.

[Blue]How do you know that if he exist in another timeline? Is this a joke? Is this about the olive oil? I'll get the right oil honey I swear?" James pleaded.

"It's curiosity and boredom really dear husband. So whatbif it sounds impossible, how do we know if it's impossible unless we try to do the impossible to prevent the impossible that's become possible from becoming possible to change the what's now incorrectly possible to get back to what is supposed to be the correct possible especially when it changes nothing for us that has been made possible?"

"He said we're still married. We still have the kids. Except we're super rich, successful, cultural and sex icons who look like literal Greek Gods and Goddesses.

We just get in Vinnie's little Pinto thing and take a trip. If we go to the future and keep a fluke of a champion from retaining his title and making a mockery of it, great. We'll get to see the future and see the limelight of a babbling idiot one brain cell shy from being Hodor get crushed and a career get tossed back into Vinnie's gimmick closet where it should have never left.

We'll keep some ring rats self respect and ribcage intact when she doesn't have to lay under him so she can go back to denying the advances of the T.H.U.G.S and every other piece of low key misogynistic trash in XWF.

We'll be doing the Lord's work Dove....

....and if not, we go on a little trip and make an old senile perverted old man happy for a little while.

Besides, Yiayia is here and agreed to babysit and I'm not passing it up even if it is just a ride along with Vinnie."Atty excitedly explained.

"But it's Vinnie," James stressed again."And he says this all centers a movie themed TV show? Hollywood would never make that Atty. Come on."

"I don't know, it sounds fun to me and if what he said is true they make sequels....and if there is sequels James.... Atty cooed looking at James desirously.

"There's more things to roleplay..."

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"Fuck it! I'm in."


Goth

Remember in our visit with each other the many anxieties that were plaguing our Goddess Atara we're briefly discussed. Prepping a new home, getting engaged, delivering a baby, getting married, mixed on top of keeping up with James busy schedule and her own work in staying prevalent within the business had meant Atara seen little of that good old REM. Still busy, and popping a titty bottle every three to four hours meant little had changed in that regard and now with the pressure of a Relentless Main Event resting square on her shoulders and letting camera crews loose on her life for this reality thing.....

....FFS™

When she did hit those deep dream levels her stress levels took that vivid imagination of hers and really let loose on the mind moving pictures of the night. This night had been no different and someone's obsession with 80s had really did a number with a whole Vinnie alternate timeline bit.
Waking up was actually kind of a relief despite being exhausted to the point of cocaine laced coffee in the morning.

But she had to keep it together regardless because today was the first shooting off....

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With little Ismini, the Ravens newborn daughter, still not quite ready for air travel, the first episode was set on Atara's beautiful home in Plaka, Athens. Called the neighborhood of the Gods, Plaka was the one of the oldest continuously inhabited neighborhoods on the planet. It was Atara's childhood neighborhood and the comfort of familiarity had eased some of the Goddess' stress during this period of acclimation. The fact it sat right under the acropolis and she could sit on her balcony and stare at arguably the most recognizable building in world was some kind of therapeutic and James didn't seem to mind. He enjoyed the privacy, or the Greek equivalent of privacy, and the ultimate bonus. A rooftop hot tub, not a time machine, to peep his smoking hot wife whenever he wanted.

The couple had absolutely every reason to visit the roof of their home and not just because they fucking owned it! They visited it in the morning, in the afternoon, in the evening, all the times in-between.

This morning would no different than rest and once Atara finished baby bonding time she had set about doing what Yiayia had always taught her do. Had always enforced in her what was her duty as a Greek wife and woman in general to do. Feed him and feed her guest! Much to his chagrin and the crew filming however, the amount of food it took meant an early morning and if Atty was up, everyone not acclimated to life full of music was also up. The house was a cacophony of Greek pop and pan clatter mixed the Goddess' singing and the sizzle of whatever she was preparing.

Walking into the scenes, we see a groggy James Raven enter frame in all his shirtless abliciousness while reaching around his wife for a coffee cup. He gives her butt a squeeze and kisses her on the head to only get a beaming smile in return before he clears her working space knowing the penalty for interrupting the cooking. He looks into the camera and gives a I Know Right shrug before the scene cuts away to shot of a less disoriented and more clothes James Raven for a reality confessional shot.

Dead panned he stares into the camera.

"I thought DancingRave'NGirl was just a pen name. I misjudged this terrible. It's everyday. All day.

[Image: kHYKJYJ.gif]

Atty cuts through and I front of him and James silently looks at the camera to say, See What I Mean.

"Everyday."

An Atty Daily Dance Montage Follows.

[Image: YvT8Z3s.gif]

[Image: 3qmYw0A.gif]

Cut back to James.

"Sometimes she's not even on the floor."

[Image: rHGr655.gif]

One final cutback and we rest on the balcony shown before we're it seems enough time has passed for the cooking and eating festivities have ended. James is gathering up dishes and we Atty standing on her balconies edge. She's seemingly deep in thought and not much of anything exciting happens when she turns to her husband. He pauses and looks back at her as they share a silent moment before a his lips curl beneath a morning stubble into a knowing smile. His wife is wearing her What the Actual Fuck face.

"What is it Atty?"

"How in the fuck does a malaka try so hard to sound so profound and say absolutely the most dumb shit I have ever heard about an effin roof ledge?" She asked in reference of her Relentless Goth's statements in a recent promo.

James, still smiling, shrugged.

"I don't know sweety. It can't be the dumbest though. We know Hitmaker."

"Ela, atleast that putanas yos usually leads somewhere before he goes to check the boats. This malaka can't even rip off Brandos on the edge scene!" Atty exclaimed her expression and posture lively and full of her frustration.

"Oooh look at me. I'm standing the ledge of a building. What does it mean. Why am I here? I'm I speaking in riddles or am I three deep into 40s and pain pills mumbling donkey shit because I'm a 20 year vet with nothing left to say or offer the business?"

"Shit in your face bish, go coat hanger your wife so you don't infect the world with one of those idiot kids you rambled on about for what reason?"

"None!"

James shrugged shrugged and turned to head in with his dishes as Atty's now inaudible Greek tirade was cut to another James confessional shot.

"She's cute when shes angry. It both scares and turns me on. She's gonna be a while."

Cut back to a still fuming Atty, unaware she has been alone. We see James sneak back out baby in tow.

"Begging for a pay day? The actual Fuck! Does he not know I am only here because the top guy.. the TOP GUY asked me to be. Don't see Universal Champions knocking down Goth's door!

Don't see vanity show promoters ringing your phone off the hook...sir. Mr. Twenty Year Mid Card nobody trying to sell me on the fact he just recently decided to become a Journey Man."

"You guys only have contracts because I wasn't available," Atty mimicked.

"Well Goth.. per. my. Last email...all I have to do is pick up phone and boom. Booked. Anywhere."

"How dare you think you can jump in front of me. How dare you think you can steal my push! I deserve this more," she mimicked more.

"How dare you not suck my asshole and not read your own fucking boom you jingo jean wearing fucking relic. It's the Xtreme title, it's not about deserve. It's about who has the balls to go for it so boo effin hoo Big Preesh grew a pair and stole your shot.

Boo effin hoo, the front office decided an accomplished and globally known commodity. A former Xtreme Champion, was going to do better for the bottom line so they could cut you a decent check at the end of the night!"

"You're welcome Miss Goth, Atty's pristine premium platinum pussy, tits, and ass brought enough simps in for your husband to keep you out of the Motel 7. Apologies Atty's sheer innate athleticism took another few weeks off the already very limited time he has left."

"How's that for pretentious grand standing Goth! No need to scratch your head and hurt yourself trying to find a deeper meaning in the shit in your toilet."

"It's shit. Look in the mirror. More shit. Open your mouth. More shit."

"You're full of it. I'm sorry, that must be discouraging to hear and I'm not discounting your talent Dove....

...oh wait yes I am. I'm definitely discounting and disparaging everything about you. Like I said, like you said. Kinda. Centurion was a fluke. Latina was an off day. Gamer Girl buried you."

There's not a signature win or accomplishment here at XWF that puts you anywhere in my category so know you tell me....."

"What's make you think your over inflated sense of self matters a fuck nugget in the grand scheme and in any shape or form makes me an extra in this delusion you keep on about?"

"Was that heartfelt enough? Did that separate your mind from your body? Can you multitask pulling my one first out of your ass while the other donkey punched you into oblivion and simultaneously choke you with your own dick with the toes of my one foot?"

"Did that offend your sensibilities? Are you down with me?"

"Scurredbitchsaysyes"

"Wait wut?"[/pink]

Atara is suddenly cut off by a subtle cough from James.

"Sweety, I think you went over the F bomb limit and I think it's time to feed. I would but..."

The scene fades out as we cut to commerical break

]]> "Hello There Dove"
[Image: QnmUJOy.gif]

"Att...Atty is that you? Why are you dressed like Leave It To Beavers Mom?""

"Do you like? I bought it special for tonight? You remember what tonight is right Calvin?"
[Image: Afu1Rr6.gif]

"Tonight? Wait...who's Calvin?"

"You are Dove..."
[Image: J0rXelz.gif]

"Atty....."
[Image: 7C6817c.gif]


snorts
[Image: VQjKARQ.gif]

"I didnt know I owned purple underwear! What the is even going on?"

"You forgot? It's roleplay night James. We're doing Back to the Future for Relentless now just go with it and help your Mother with her flushed capacitor"
[Image: 91IJRE3.gif]

Ew God woman, what the actual....and it's flux. Flux Capacitor!"

Oh no Dove. It's flushed. It's very flushed.

"You better not be filming this"

For those of you hoping for some DancingRave'NGirl erotic Atty James fan fiction, this is the part where we unfortunately have to inform you that this is where the clip ends. Now if you're wondering, if there's no sex tape why is my time being wasted with this poorly executed parody vignette if it's not leading to anything interesting? The answer to that Doves, is obviously, we're trying to be topical and current and pull that same nostalgia fuelled 40 to ancient demographic the XWF is targeting in a little piece promoting James and I new reality show The Ravens airing soon on whatever network we have promotional material due for.


Oh really Atty? Like that one wrestling couple does already? No you effin malakas, not like that one. It's completely original! Its gonna be sophisticated and mature and not full of lighthearted shenanigans and aww moments! Just watch it!


Ring Master

It's supper time at the Raven household and while they don't live in America nor are one of the two American, they sit at the table like the model Golden Age American family. Being the busy lot they are, while they huddle around the gargantuan Greek feast Housewife Atty as prepared, the television set is going as they watch the promos and do film study on upcoming opponents. Naturally, this being an Atara piece, it's her opponent Ring Master on the screen.

[Image: hCFqr7I.gif]

Both a befuddled Mrs. Raven and her stepson Tyler look at the excited Mr. Raven, their confusion plastered on their faces. "But how Dad, this one is brand new?" inquiries the young Raven as is step mother nods with her affirmation.

"No, it can't be. I've seen it. I swear. The setup, the speech, and everything. You remember don't honey?" James says trying to convince them otherwise.

"No dear husband, we have never seen this one before. You must have him confused," she answers doing her best breathy Jackie Kennedy impression.

"No, we have. It's the guy, that conquers everything and let's nothing stop him."

Atara shakes her head, "No Dove. That's the Ring Master. He has never conquered anything and is literally stopped by everything. He's predictable and dull as fuck. My 1940ish internet viral refrigerator with the moving shelves has more versatility. Though it does hold less bullshit."

Dull! Impossible, he's the the life of the party. A literal comedian. See, he just said so." making his plea, James gestures to the television.

"Mom always says if you bring home anything but Greek olive again she's gonna chop your dick off and eat it like a gyro but she never does."

Tyler! Atara interjects before giving a scolding. "How dare you pronounce Gyro wrong! Your sister could hear!"

"You said it was fine?"

It doesn't matter! We're getting off topic.


...it does matter. California is not Greece. I said Greek olive oil. I bring home a jug and you bring home a tiny bottle and Ring Master has not once told a joke or a funny one!"

"Ok. I see you're point.

He hasn't told a joke or said anything funny in this one, but we're not done with the olive oil thing.

"I know I'm right. You think you've seen this one because it's all the Ring Master does. He sticks to the same script, much like in the ring, and telegraphs everything. You can tell he's another one who doesn't do his homework and thinks he can get buy with talent alone or bark louder, longer, and more often and try to scare an opponent.

He's resting on laurels that he clearly doesn't have and lies through his teeth every time he gets on the mic. He's not the hardest worker, he's not the most talented, he's not the future, and he's most definitely not the next XWF Xtreme Champion

He would very much like to be everyone's hero, the center of attention, but the Ring Master forgets no one pays to see the guy with the whip. They pay to see the fucking tigers and this tigeress can't exactly be caged.

I'm gonna rip his fuck.....

A knock on the door cuts Atara off and she  goes to answer."Vinnie?

[Image: 0uCtfOy.gif]

"Hey Atara, I left my binoculars in the tree. You guys gotta ladder?"



Big Preesh

"Why are you even entertaining this Atty? Why I'm I letting you let me entertain this? It's Vinnie." asks a frustrated and unwilling James Raven.

"I don't know. It seemed plausible and he's a scientist or something. You can't argue science James." responded the assured honeyed rasp of Atara.

Looking at his wife in disbelief James threw his head back.

[Image: sou5Dzb.gif]

"We all have I our vices James and besides,"Atara paused canting her head and giving an admonishing look. "Don't act like you never tried to peep me from with from Centurion's when we were kids.

"Well, I'm your husband now for one and it's not peeping when you shout Hey James! and show me your titties everytime I was there."

"What's it going to hurt?" a now blushing Atty responded.

"It's just...it's Vinnie and I don't see what some fat kid with a lisp has to do with the physics of time."[blue]

"It's not a lisp, he says it like that on purpose. Preesh. Makes him feel hip and connected to the youth." Atty corrected.

[Blue]How do you know that if he exist in another timeline? Is this a joke? Is this about the olive oil? I'll get the right oil honey I swear?" James pleaded.

"It's curiosity and boredom really dear husband. So whatbif it sounds impossible, how do we know if it's impossible unless we try to do the impossible to prevent the impossible that's become possible from becoming possible to change the what's now incorrectly possible to get back to what is supposed to be the correct possible especially when it changes nothing for us that has been made possible?"

"He said we're still married. We still have the kids. Except we're super rich, successful, cultural and sex icons who look like literal Greek Gods and Goddesses.

We just get in Vinnie's little Pinto thing and take a trip. If we go to the future and keep a fluke of a champion from retaining his title and making a mockery of it, great. We'll get to see the future and see the limelight of a babbling idiot one brain cell shy from being Hodor get crushed and a career get tossed back into Vinnie's gimmick closet where it should have never left.

We'll keep some ring rats self respect and ribcage intact when she doesn't have to lay under him so she can go back to denying the advances of the T.H.U.G.S and every other piece of low key misogynistic trash in XWF.

We'll be doing the Lord's work Dove....

....and if not, we go on a little trip and make an old senile perverted old man happy for a little while.

Besides, Yiayia is here and agreed to babysit and I'm not passing it up even if it is just a ride along with Vinnie."Atty excitedly explained.

"But it's Vinnie," James stressed again."And he says this all centers a movie themed TV show? Hollywood would never make that Atty. Come on."

"I don't know, it sounds fun to me and if what he said is true they make sequels....and if there is sequels James.... Atty cooed looking at James desirously.

"There's more things to roleplay..."

[Image: r8TbWuZ.gif]

"Fuck it! I'm in."


Goth

Remember in our visit with each other the many anxieties that were plaguing our Goddess Atara we're briefly discussed. Prepping a new home, getting engaged, delivering a baby, getting married, mixed on top of keeping up with James busy schedule and her own work in staying prevalent within the business had meant Atara seen little of that good old REM. Still busy, and popping a titty bottle every three to four hours meant little had changed in that regard and now with the pressure of a Relentless Main Event resting square on her shoulders and letting camera crews loose on her life for this reality thing.....

....FFS™

When she did hit those deep dream levels her stress levels took that vivid imagination of hers and really let loose on the mind moving pictures of the night. This night had been no different and someone's obsession with 80s had really did a number with a whole Vinnie alternate timeline bit.
Waking up was actually kind of a relief despite being exhausted to the point of cocaine laced coffee in the morning.

But she had to keep it together regardless because today was the first shooting off....

[Image: ZtnuEvT.png]


With little Ismini, the Ravens newborn daughter, still not quite ready for air travel, the first episode was set on Atara's beautiful home in Plaka, Athens. Called the neighborhood of the Gods, Plaka was the one of the oldest continuously inhabited neighborhoods on the planet. It was Atara's childhood neighborhood and the comfort of familiarity had eased some of the Goddess' stress during this period of acclimation. The fact it sat right under the acropolis and she could sit on her balcony and stare at arguably the most recognizable building in world was some kind of therapeutic and James didn't seem to mind. He enjoyed the privacy, or the Greek equivalent of privacy, and the ultimate bonus. A rooftop hot tub, not a time machine, to peep his smoking hot wife whenever he wanted.

The couple had absolutely every reason to visit the roof of their home and not just because they fucking owned it! They visited it in the morning, in the afternoon, in the evening, all the times in-between.

This morning would no different than rest and once Atara finished baby bonding time she had set about doing what Yiayia had always taught her do. Had always enforced in her what was her duty as a Greek wife and woman in general to do. Feed him and feed her guest! Much to his chagrin and the crew filming however, the amount of food it took meant an early morning and if Atty was up, everyone not acclimated to life full of music was also up. The house was a cacophony of Greek pop and pan clatter mixed the Goddess' singing and the sizzle of whatever she was preparing.

Walking into the scenes, we see a groggy James Raven enter frame in all his shirtless abliciousness while reaching around his wife for a coffee cup. He gives her butt a squeeze and kisses her on the head to only get a beaming smile in return before he clears her working space knowing the penalty for interrupting the cooking. He looks into the camera and gives a I Know Right shrug before the scene cuts away to shot of a less disoriented and more clothes James Raven for a reality confessional shot.

Dead panned he stares into the camera.

"I thought DancingRave'NGirl was just a pen name. I misjudged this terrible. It's everyday. All day.

[Image: kHYKJYJ.gif]

Atty cuts through and I front of him and James silently looks at the camera to say, See What I Mean.

"Everyday."

An Atty Daily Dance Montage Follows.

[Image: YvT8Z3s.gif]

[Image: 3qmYw0A.gif]

Cut back to James.

"Sometimes she's not even on the floor."

[Image: rHGr655.gif]

One final cutback and we rest on the balcony shown before we're it seems enough time has passed for the cooking and eating festivities have ended. James is gathering up dishes and we Atty standing on her balconies edge. She's seemingly deep in thought and not much of anything exciting happens when she turns to her husband. He pauses and looks back at her as they share a silent moment before a his lips curl beneath a morning stubble into a knowing smile. His wife is wearing her What the Actual Fuck face.

"What is it Atty?"

"How in the fuck does a malaka try so hard to sound so profound and say absolutely the most dumb shit I have ever heard about an effin roof ledge?" She asked in reference of her Relentless Goth's statements in a recent promo.

James, still smiling, shrugged.

"I don't know sweety. It can't be the dumbest though. We know Hitmaker."

"Ela, atleast that putanas yos usually leads somewhere before he goes to check the boats. This malaka can't even rip off Brandos on the edge scene!" Atty exclaimed her expression and posture lively and full of her frustration.

"Oooh look at me. I'm standing the ledge of a building. What does it mean. Why am I here? I'm I speaking in riddles or am I three deep into 40s and pain pills mumbling donkey shit because I'm a 20 year vet with nothing left to say or offer the business?"

"Shit in your face bish, go coat hanger your wife so you don't infect the world with one of those idiot kids you rambled on about for what reason?"

"None!"

James shrugged shrugged and turned to head in with his dishes as Atty's now inaudible Greek tirade was cut to another James confessional shot.

"She's cute when shes angry. It both scares and turns me on. She's gonna be a while."

Cut back to a still fuming Atty, unaware she has been alone. We see James sneak back out baby in tow.

"Begging for a pay day? The actual Fuck! Does he not know I am only here because the top guy.. the TOP GUY asked me to be. Don't see Universal Champions knocking down Goth's door!

Don't see vanity show promoters ringing your phone off the hook...sir. Mr. Twenty Year Mid Card nobody trying to sell me on the fact he just recently decided to become a Journey Man."

"You guys only have contracts because I wasn't available," Atty mimicked.

"Well Goth.. per. my. Last email...all I have to do is pick up phone and boom. Booked. Anywhere."

"How dare you think you can jump in front of me. How dare you think you can steal my push! I deserve this more," she mimicked more.

"How dare you not suck my asshole and not read your own fucking boom you jingo jean wearing fucking relic. It's the Xtreme title, it's not about deserve. It's about who has the balls to go for it so boo effin hoo Big Preesh grew a pair and stole your shot.

Boo effin hoo, the front office decided an accomplished and globally known commodity. A former Xtreme Champion, was going to do better for the bottom line so they could cut you a decent check at the end of the night!"

"You're welcome Miss Goth, Atty's pristine premium platinum pussy, tits, and ass brought enough simps in for your husband to keep you out of the Motel 7. Apologies Atty's sheer innate athleticism took another few weeks off the already very limited time he has left."

"How's that for pretentious grand standing Goth! No need to scratch your head and hurt yourself trying to find a deeper meaning in the shit in your toilet."

"It's shit. Look in the mirror. More shit. Open your mouth. More shit."

"You're full of it. I'm sorry, that must be discouraging to hear and I'm not discounting your talent Dove....

...oh wait yes I am. I'm definitely discounting and disparaging everything about you. Like I said, like you said. Kinda. Centurion was a fluke. Latina was an off day. Gamer Girl buried you."

There's not a signature win or accomplishment here at XWF that puts you anywhere in my category so know you tell me....."

"What's make you think your over inflated sense of self matters a fuck nugget in the grand scheme and in any shape or form makes me an extra in this delusion you keep on about?"

"Was that heartfelt enough? Did that separate your mind from your body? Can you multitask pulling my one first out of your ass while the other donkey punched you into oblivion and simultaneously choke you with your own dick with the toes of my one foot?"

"Did that offend your sensibilities? Are you down with me?"

"Scurredbitchsaysyes"

"Wait wut?"[/pink]

Atara is suddenly cut off by a subtle cough from James.

"Sweety, I think you went over the F bomb limit and I think it's time to feed. I would but..."

The scene fades out as we cut to commerical break

]]> <![CDATA[Histories]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44557 Fri, 16 Sep 2022 23:53:56 -0700 Ned Kaye]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44557


June 22nd, 2012


There was a deep aroma that filled the air around Ned's head. The kind of musk you expect at cheap bars and embedded inside of decade old mattresses. It wasn't an ideal venue for a big debut, but it was something. He yawned, catching the faint scent of the few shots of whiskey Ned had gulped down the night prior, his head still buzzing as a few of the other, more popular and actually established indie locals wrestled in front of the meager crowd. One of them was an upstart that Ned hadn't quite cared for. He was a little older than Ned, but he managed to captivate audiences fairly effortlessly. He went by the in-ring name of AnarChrist, but everybody backstage just called him James. His movements were strained, each motion desperate for the crowd's interest, a strategy that proved less than ideal against the veteran currently wrenching on James' neck. The older guy went by The Trooper, but he had actually been a bigger deal way back in the day, resigned to the school gym shows where guys like Ned were bound to spend nearly a decade of their career starting out. There was a bittersweet knowledge to having The Trooper there. Sure, he helped add a level of legitimacy to the affair, but he stood out there, cranking James' neck back as a grim reminder of the common fate of all professional wrestlers.

The future that befalls most people. To do what you love in relative silence for barely enough change to cover the parking meter outside.

Ned stared down at his hands, his gaze averting from the match that appeared to be on its way towards concluding in the ring, just barely past the curtain he sat behind. Emotions rushed him all at once, the effects of this journey on his somewhat frail body tingling through every nerve as his warm breath wafted over his fingers, a vacant stare in his eyes. He was right here. This was the first step to standing alongside his heroes. In joining the federation he grew up watching with Dad. All he had to do was keep at it and maybe someday he would finally join the XWF. Maybe even nab a championship or two. But it required today going well. And not just today, but subsequent and numerous weeks and months and years later. The pressure of it all caused Ned to freeze. He didn't even hear the three-count, only the obtrusive ring of the cheap bell. The ring-announcer yelled out to the crowd, the speaker system in the gym not being worth a damn, and proclaimed the victor, but it was all empty sounding speech. Like listening to a foreign language you know not a word of. Moments later, the winner of the match walked past the curtain, a cigarette already in his mouth as he slumped down into one of the cheap, plastic chairs across from Ned, taking a long drag as he stared off to the side. Ned continued to focus on his hands, barely holding everything together. It all seemed to be a fragile house of cards and each breath was a soft wind that sought to let it tumble to the ground. Kaye didn't move or speak. He merely gazed and hoped desperately that he could hold on long enough for something okay to happen. He had promised Lily that he would at least see this all through, but the pressure began to mount further and further until the internal turmoil was on the edge of bursting. He could still walk off here. All of this was just a foolish childhood fantasy. He wasn't a real wrestler. He wasn't ever supposed to go into this kind of athletic. That's what came out of everybody's mouth, it seemed. He was just about to glance up at the exit door when a gruff, near coughing voice shout out from opposite him.

“First time, huh?”

Ned peered upward, his mind's spiral of negative thought interrupted by the inquiry.

“Yeah.... how could you tell?”

“Look, kid, it's not like your poster face was hidin' much in the first place. 'Sides, everyone gets cold feet the first time outside of psychos and idiots.”

With a shrug, Ned attempted to look back down at his hands, maybe return where he had left off, but the veteran had no intention of letting him do such a thing.

“What I'm tryin' to say is that you're gonna be fine. Just chin up.”

He took another puff off of his cig, pulling the carton from underneath his leg and offering one to the newbie.

“I don't smoke, but thanks.”

“Well, consider startin'. You need something to take the edge off now and then.”

“Yeah,” Ned dryly responded, not sure what else to say.

“You know, when it's over you'll wonder what got you all wound up beforehand. You just find focus and step on out there. It ain't hard at all.”

Almost cutting him off, Ned responded in a pointed tone.

“Yeah, how do you do it then?”

“Do what?”

“Go out there knowing what's at stake?”

The Trooper hesitated for a second, putting his cigarette out on the heel of his boot, inspecting the younger man's attire, his ring gear unscratched and fresh as its wearer appeared. He stood up and looked down at Ned, sighing slightly.

“I just do, kid. Because if I don't have this, I don't have shit.”

He stepped away from Ned, clearing his throat as he did. Soon the promoter would be here and give Ned a pep talk or something. Soon, he'd be facing his first challenge. But for a moment longer, he stared at his hands, his nerves a little eased.

He had worked his entire life to get here to be a professional wrestler. He was a professional wrestler. It was time to act like one.


September 1st, 2022


Darcy Ellis exhaled her face buried in her hands. She had become so accustomed to negative news that good news was difficult to accept. But there the doctor was, standing before her, his words slow and deliberate, but the message clear: her sister's cancer was in remission. A glimmer of hope in a life filled with twilight. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she worked to contain herself, emotion overflowing after such a bizarre few months. It was like a years long weight had finally begun to lift off her shoulders. Ned sat beside her, staying quiet and giving her time to absorb everything as the doctor left the room. She dried her eyes messily with the sleeve of her shirt as Kaye offered her a tissue. Hesitating for but a moment, she nabbed the tissue from his grasp and began work on calming down.

“Y'know... hospitals charge you up the ass for tissue boxes.”

“I think I can take the hit, to be honest,” Ned responded, a hint of snark in his soft tone.

“Well, we can't all be TV stars who take payment in cocaine and concussions, so maybe be a little fiscally conscious. For my sake.”

Her words were the same old Darcy, but each breath was heavy and shaky. She wasn't doing very well at hiding her overwhelming relief, but Ned leaned forward somewhat, patting her shoulder.

“Hey. It's okay. I know you like to be ironic and jokey, but this... this is big. Enjoy this.”

She nodded, shaking her head slightly as she chuckled softly, “You are so stupidly sweet and sincere that its actually kind of annoying.”

“I tried being a bitter asshole, but I guess annoyingly sincere is more my comfort zone.”

Ned put on a bright smile for her, but she could tell that something was bothering him. His face might have said one thing, but his eyes spoke a solemn soliloquy.

“You've been spending all this time making sure I'm alright... what about you?”

“I'm... fine.”

“Are you just saying that to try and get me off your back? Because we both know you're fighting a losing battle there.”

“No, it's just...”

Kaye took a deep breath, avoiding her eye contact while the words left his mouth.

“Usually when something happens to me or someone even near me... it ends badly. But... I get to see you be happy and enjoy how everything feels and... I wish I could relate. The last friend I had who had a serious problem like this had to take me into therapy while I was drunker than I've ever been.”

“You mean Steven Cooper?”

Ned's ears nearly perked at the sound of the man's name. It had been a long time since he'd even heard it mentioned in passing.

“Yeah...”

“Do you know what happened to him? Like... did he just toss your body into the most apocalyptic version of therapy ever and then dip?”

“I suppose you could say that. We haven't really talked since. I mean, what the hell am I supposed to say.”

Darcy shrugged, feeling more composed finally as she tossed the tissue away and brainstormed an apology.

“Well, “sorry for involving you in my destructive meltdown where I got you a job so I could avoid consequences” might be a good start.”

Ned turned to look at her, taken aback by her curtness.

“It's a start, I didn't say it was perfect!”

“It's a probably better I just let him do his own thing, if he's even still around at this point.”

“But you obviously want to check up on him and make sure he's okay.”

“Yeah, I do!” Ned raised his voice a little exasperated before adding in a near whisper, “...sorry.”

“Then what's the holdup? You're not exactly gaining time by waiting, no offense.”

“Because I'm scared, Darcy. Is that what you wanted? Yeah, I'm glad that I'm apart of The Trilogy and that I'm moving on and getting better, but I remember what it felt like to be the leader of Avalanche. To abuse all that power over others just because I was having a mental health crisis and I... I don't even know what I'd do.”

“Ned, nobody goes forward by throwing the stuff behind them away or pushing it out of view. If you want to feel better about it, you need to face it head on. You think I'm happy after all of The Chameleon experiments? You don't think I go everyday of my life absolutely haunted by what I let myself be apart of? But I'm not gonna become more at piece with it by ignoring that it was there. It happened. I had a hand in it. But if I want to get better. I have to-”

“-just do it.”

Darcy's face turned a slight shade of pink as Ned cut her off, completely guessing what she was going to say as she sat there in silence for a moment, trying to find a good follow-up.

“Yes... s-something like that.”



“Many things define us as people. As human beings. As wrestlers. But something we often forget is how the roads to what we are isn't only paved by us.”

“Our stories are inherently collaborative, regardless of the endless hubris of some of the louder voices in the crowd. But that's nothing new. There are always going to be those who claim they got somewhere on their own, without a single, solitary person assisting them in getting there. What's odd to me, Peter, is that you share so many elements with these individuals, but you are not one of them. You know the role Chris Page played in your career, but it doesn't stop you from acting as pompous and ignorant as a Chris Chaos from time-to-time. And why shouldn't you? You're the Supercontinental Champion. You're a highlight on every Warfare. You're respected by many.”

“Is that why you kicked me in the balls when I, and my partners, were about to beat your little ragtag group of Page's second priorities? Can you imagine how bad it would be for your ego if you had to dare to lose on someone else's terms like you were about to? I've never bought your exterior, Vaughn, because the only thing to buy is a bootleg James Raven. Speaking of Raven, he is one of those people who have helped me down the path I currently walk. Along with Theo Pryce, Cashe, Kido, Robert, Thias, Eobard, D. Shit, even Jim and Dick Powers of all people. I remember everyone who got me here. To the XWF. To this title shot. Sure, it was me who put in the work time and time again, but I never lost track of how lucky I am.”

“How many of those kinds of people in your life can you name, Vaughn? Bonus points if you don't mention your current employer or coworkers. I'm doubtful you'd remember the name of your mother unless she had given you money in the last month. I've seen the way you treat your allies, hell, I got a front row seat to it and all I saw was someone who thought they were going to win a 3-on-1 on their own. You treat the people around you like trash. Scratch that, I bet you give refuse the honor being recycled every now and then. You don't feel like it's an honor to have your name to be under the XWF logo on posters, you think it's a privilege for the XWF logo to get to be graced by the presence of your name. You know why I didn't attack you when I called you out for our match here at the biggest PPV of this storied company of the year? Do you even have a hint of why that might be? Because I refuse to reward your bullshit behavior. You wanted to push my button and piss me off, Peter? You should have realized for one second who you were dealing with. I don't need to cave your face in a few weeks before a match to win. I don't need your terms. Your history might be an opportunist masturbatory romp through various companies until you arrived at the capital of pleasing yourself to the sound of a cash register known as CCP Inc., but mine is about finding my course of action. My way of doing things and following through. You're just following orders.”

“You are as uninspired as you are backhanded, simply following in the shadow of bastards far more conniving than you. Because while some are assholes by nature, you're just one because it made good business sense at the time. You don't have a code because a code would confine your ability to fit whatever container the people cutting your checks want to put you in. You couldn't be Relentless because your entire life is relenting, Peter. And you made a helluva career out of it. That's why I know you're not scared of me, per say, but you are very much afraid of what I represent: that your way can only get you so far. That behind every close victory is a man warming that belt up for the waist he took a cheap jab at. And you're right to be afraid. I'm not one of these easy going pins that CCP Inc wants for you. I'm the real deal. I'm what you, a corporate suit in a wrestling ring can never be.”

“I'm a goddamn professional wrestler. The XWF saved my life. It was always my dream, always my goal. You don't have the passion that I have, nor do you have the will. Where you see dollar signs, I see my place, a world where I belong and where my friends can pull me through. No one's in your corner, Vaughn. Your allies wouldn't bother to bury you unless your corpse walked to the hole on its own. It's time to look towards here and now. So, keep that belt waxed and shiny.”

“It deserves to glimmer on the night I get it out of your grubby hands.”]]>


June 22nd, 2012


There was a deep aroma that filled the air around Ned's head. The kind of musk you expect at cheap bars and embedded inside of decade old mattresses. It wasn't an ideal venue for a big debut, but it was something. He yawned, catching the faint scent of the few shots of whiskey Ned had gulped down the night prior, his head still buzzing as a few of the other, more popular and actually established indie locals wrestled in front of the meager crowd. One of them was an upstart that Ned hadn't quite cared for. He was a little older than Ned, but he managed to captivate audiences fairly effortlessly. He went by the in-ring name of AnarChrist, but everybody backstage just called him James. His movements were strained, each motion desperate for the crowd's interest, a strategy that proved less than ideal against the veteran currently wrenching on James' neck. The older guy went by The Trooper, but he had actually been a bigger deal way back in the day, resigned to the school gym shows where guys like Ned were bound to spend nearly a decade of their career starting out. There was a bittersweet knowledge to having The Trooper there. Sure, he helped add a level of legitimacy to the affair, but he stood out there, cranking James' neck back as a grim reminder of the common fate of all professional wrestlers.

The future that befalls most people. To do what you love in relative silence for barely enough change to cover the parking meter outside.

Ned stared down at his hands, his gaze averting from the match that appeared to be on its way towards concluding in the ring, just barely past the curtain he sat behind. Emotions rushed him all at once, the effects of this journey on his somewhat frail body tingling through every nerve as his warm breath wafted over his fingers, a vacant stare in his eyes. He was right here. This was the first step to standing alongside his heroes. In joining the federation he grew up watching with Dad. All he had to do was keep at it and maybe someday he would finally join the XWF. Maybe even nab a championship or two. But it required today going well. And not just today, but subsequent and numerous weeks and months and years later. The pressure of it all caused Ned to freeze. He didn't even hear the three-count, only the obtrusive ring of the cheap bell. The ring-announcer yelled out to the crowd, the speaker system in the gym not being worth a damn, and proclaimed the victor, but it was all empty sounding speech. Like listening to a foreign language you know not a word of. Moments later, the winner of the match walked past the curtain, a cigarette already in his mouth as he slumped down into one of the cheap, plastic chairs across from Ned, taking a long drag as he stared off to the side. Ned continued to focus on his hands, barely holding everything together. It all seemed to be a fragile house of cards and each breath was a soft wind that sought to let it tumble to the ground. Kaye didn't move or speak. He merely gazed and hoped desperately that he could hold on long enough for something okay to happen. He had promised Lily that he would at least see this all through, but the pressure began to mount further and further until the internal turmoil was on the edge of bursting. He could still walk off here. All of this was just a foolish childhood fantasy. He wasn't a real wrestler. He wasn't ever supposed to go into this kind of athletic. That's what came out of everybody's mouth, it seemed. He was just about to glance up at the exit door when a gruff, near coughing voice shout out from opposite him.

“First time, huh?”

Ned peered upward, his mind's spiral of negative thought interrupted by the inquiry.

“Yeah.... how could you tell?”

“Look, kid, it's not like your poster face was hidin' much in the first place. 'Sides, everyone gets cold feet the first time outside of psychos and idiots.”

With a shrug, Ned attempted to look back down at his hands, maybe return where he had left off, but the veteran had no intention of letting him do such a thing.

“What I'm tryin' to say is that you're gonna be fine. Just chin up.”

He took another puff off of his cig, pulling the carton from underneath his leg and offering one to the newbie.

“I don't smoke, but thanks.”

“Well, consider startin'. You need something to take the edge off now and then.”

“Yeah,” Ned dryly responded, not sure what else to say.

“You know, when it's over you'll wonder what got you all wound up beforehand. You just find focus and step on out there. It ain't hard at all.”

Almost cutting him off, Ned responded in a pointed tone.

“Yeah, how do you do it then?”

“Do what?”

“Go out there knowing what's at stake?”

The Trooper hesitated for a second, putting his cigarette out on the heel of his boot, inspecting the younger man's attire, his ring gear unscratched and fresh as its wearer appeared. He stood up and looked down at Ned, sighing slightly.

“I just do, kid. Because if I don't have this, I don't have shit.”

He stepped away from Ned, clearing his throat as he did. Soon the promoter would be here and give Ned a pep talk or something. Soon, he'd be facing his first challenge. But for a moment longer, he stared at his hands, his nerves a little eased.

He had worked his entire life to get here to be a professional wrestler. He was a professional wrestler. It was time to act like one.


September 1st, 2022


Darcy Ellis exhaled her face buried in her hands. She had become so accustomed to negative news that good news was difficult to accept. But there the doctor was, standing before her, his words slow and deliberate, but the message clear: her sister's cancer was in remission. A glimmer of hope in a life filled with twilight. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she worked to contain herself, emotion overflowing after such a bizarre few months. It was like a years long weight had finally begun to lift off her shoulders. Ned sat beside her, staying quiet and giving her time to absorb everything as the doctor left the room. She dried her eyes messily with the sleeve of her shirt as Kaye offered her a tissue. Hesitating for but a moment, she nabbed the tissue from his grasp and began work on calming down.

“Y'know... hospitals charge you up the ass for tissue boxes.”

“I think I can take the hit, to be honest,” Ned responded, a hint of snark in his soft tone.

“Well, we can't all be TV stars who take payment in cocaine and concussions, so maybe be a little fiscally conscious. For my sake.”

Her words were the same old Darcy, but each breath was heavy and shaky. She wasn't doing very well at hiding her overwhelming relief, but Ned leaned forward somewhat, patting her shoulder.

“Hey. It's okay. I know you like to be ironic and jokey, but this... this is big. Enjoy this.”

She nodded, shaking her head slightly as she chuckled softly, “You are so stupidly sweet and sincere that its actually kind of annoying.”

“I tried being a bitter asshole, but I guess annoyingly sincere is more my comfort zone.”

Ned put on a bright smile for her, but she could tell that something was bothering him. His face might have said one thing, but his eyes spoke a solemn soliloquy.

“You've been spending all this time making sure I'm alright... what about you?”

“I'm... fine.”

“Are you just saying that to try and get me off your back? Because we both know you're fighting a losing battle there.”

“No, it's just...”

Kaye took a deep breath, avoiding her eye contact while the words left his mouth.

“Usually when something happens to me or someone even near me... it ends badly. But... I get to see you be happy and enjoy how everything feels and... I wish I could relate. The last friend I had who had a serious problem like this had to take me into therapy while I was drunker than I've ever been.”

“You mean Steven Cooper?”

Ned's ears nearly perked at the sound of the man's name. It had been a long time since he'd even heard it mentioned in passing.

“Yeah...”

“Do you know what happened to him? Like... did he just toss your body into the most apocalyptic version of therapy ever and then dip?”

“I suppose you could say that. We haven't really talked since. I mean, what the hell am I supposed to say.”

Darcy shrugged, feeling more composed finally as she tossed the tissue away and brainstormed an apology.

“Well, “sorry for involving you in my destructive meltdown where I got you a job so I could avoid consequences” might be a good start.”

Ned turned to look at her, taken aback by her curtness.

“It's a start, I didn't say it was perfect!”

“It's a probably better I just let him do his own thing, if he's even still around at this point.”

“But you obviously want to check up on him and make sure he's okay.”

“Yeah, I do!” Ned raised his voice a little exasperated before adding in a near whisper, “...sorry.”

“Then what's the holdup? You're not exactly gaining time by waiting, no offense.”

“Because I'm scared, Darcy. Is that what you wanted? Yeah, I'm glad that I'm apart of The Trilogy and that I'm moving on and getting better, but I remember what it felt like to be the leader of Avalanche. To abuse all that power over others just because I was having a mental health crisis and I... I don't even know what I'd do.”

“Ned, nobody goes forward by throwing the stuff behind them away or pushing it out of view. If you want to feel better about it, you need to face it head on. You think I'm happy after all of The Chameleon experiments? You don't think I go everyday of my life absolutely haunted by what I let myself be apart of? But I'm not gonna become more at piece with it by ignoring that it was there. It happened. I had a hand in it. But if I want to get better. I have to-”

“-just do it.”

Darcy's face turned a slight shade of pink as Ned cut her off, completely guessing what she was going to say as she sat there in silence for a moment, trying to find a good follow-up.

“Yes... s-something like that.”



“Many things define us as people. As human beings. As wrestlers. But something we often forget is how the roads to what we are isn't only paved by us.”

“Our stories are inherently collaborative, regardless of the endless hubris of some of the louder voices in the crowd. But that's nothing new. There are always going to be those who claim they got somewhere on their own, without a single, solitary person assisting them in getting there. What's odd to me, Peter, is that you share so many elements with these individuals, but you are not one of them. You know the role Chris Page played in your career, but it doesn't stop you from acting as pompous and ignorant as a Chris Chaos from time-to-time. And why shouldn't you? You're the Supercontinental Champion. You're a highlight on every Warfare. You're respected by many.”

“Is that why you kicked me in the balls when I, and my partners, were about to beat your little ragtag group of Page's second priorities? Can you imagine how bad it would be for your ego if you had to dare to lose on someone else's terms like you were about to? I've never bought your exterior, Vaughn, because the only thing to buy is a bootleg James Raven. Speaking of Raven, he is one of those people who have helped me down the path I currently walk. Along with Theo Pryce, Cashe, Kido, Robert, Thias, Eobard, D. Shit, even Jim and Dick Powers of all people. I remember everyone who got me here. To the XWF. To this title shot. Sure, it was me who put in the work time and time again, but I never lost track of how lucky I am.”

“How many of those kinds of people in your life can you name, Vaughn? Bonus points if you don't mention your current employer or coworkers. I'm doubtful you'd remember the name of your mother unless she had given you money in the last month. I've seen the way you treat your allies, hell, I got a front row seat to it and all I saw was someone who thought they were going to win a 3-on-1 on their own. You treat the people around you like trash. Scratch that, I bet you give refuse the honor being recycled every now and then. You don't feel like it's an honor to have your name to be under the XWF logo on posters, you think it's a privilege for the XWF logo to get to be graced by the presence of your name. You know why I didn't attack you when I called you out for our match here at the biggest PPV of this storied company of the year? Do you even have a hint of why that might be? Because I refuse to reward your bullshit behavior. You wanted to push my button and piss me off, Peter? You should have realized for one second who you were dealing with. I don't need to cave your face in a few weeks before a match to win. I don't need your terms. Your history might be an opportunist masturbatory romp through various companies until you arrived at the capital of pleasing yourself to the sound of a cash register known as CCP Inc., but mine is about finding my course of action. My way of doing things and following through. You're just following orders.”

“You are as uninspired as you are backhanded, simply following in the shadow of bastards far more conniving than you. Because while some are assholes by nature, you're just one because it made good business sense at the time. You don't have a code because a code would confine your ability to fit whatever container the people cutting your checks want to put you in. You couldn't be Relentless because your entire life is relenting, Peter. And you made a helluva career out of it. That's why I know you're not scared of me, per say, but you are very much afraid of what I represent: that your way can only get you so far. That behind every close victory is a man warming that belt up for the waist he took a cheap jab at. And you're right to be afraid. I'm not one of these easy going pins that CCP Inc wants for you. I'm the real deal. I'm what you, a corporate suit in a wrestling ring can never be.”

“I'm a goddamn professional wrestler. The XWF saved my life. It was always my dream, always my goal. You don't have the passion that I have, nor do you have the will. Where you see dollar signs, I see my place, a world where I belong and where my friends can pull me through. No one's in your corner, Vaughn. Your allies wouldn't bother to bury you unless your corpse walked to the hole on its own. It's time to look towards here and now. So, keep that belt waxed and shiny.”

“It deserves to glimmer on the night I get it out of your grubby hands.”]]> <![CDATA[Broken Down]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44556 Fri, 16 Sep 2022 23:35:59 -0700 Latina Submission Machina]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44556

To'a las putas 'tá mejor que ya se callen

Que yo no quiero opiniones de más nadie


The hero of our story, Latina Submission Machina, stands beneath a spotlight in front of an intentionally obscured background. Her red, white, and green wrestling attire shines brightly as the sequins on the fabric reflect the filming lights. LSM has won 7 XWF championships since she joined the XWF last year, but to her that was no cause for celebration. LSM stepped in front of the camera with a look of barely restrained rage. The sugar skull artwork covering half of her face gives us only a glimpse of the darkness hiding just beneath LSM's shimmering surface.

Last year on my first ever night of Relentless, I ended Big Money Oswald’s Anarchy Championship reign. That night I became the Anarchy Champion, catapulting myself into stardom on Thursday nights like no one ever has before me. Even my friend Ruby is telling folks that I’m the biggest star Anarchy has ever produced. My first night of Relentless was like a springboard for my career that I never saw coming, because I pole vaulted those back-to-back Anarchy Championship reigns into a War Games Captainship and an X-treme title run……

LSM looks off to the side as she shakes her head in disgust.

Both of which went nowhere. So here we are, back to square one, exactly one year later.

LSM turns her gaze back to the camera as she balls one of her hands into a fist.

This year on the second night of Relentless I plan to catapult myself once again. And this time, since I’m getting more air time than I did last year, I know I’ll land even higher, and on my feet! After I come down from this big win at Relentless I’m going to hit the ground running, because I always have my eyes on the ultimate prize- but I’ll never overlook an opponent, no matter how much it hurts to actually look at them. I know that each and every baby step along this path is worth taking- no matter how ugly and deformed that baby I’m stepping on happens to be!

LSM pretends to stomp down on a deformed baby before she makes a wild gesture with her arm, swinging it off to the side to end the bit. She then looks back up towards the camera with an icy glare. She’s getting worked up…she seems big mad about something.

But that’s all my opponent really is, right? A big, ugly, deformed baby. He’s more or less a Mystcarriage, if you will, because he liked to play around in Jenny Myst’s after-failed-birth so much he’s practically become the stuff through some sort of sick osmosis! He plays around in the gutters so much, it’s all he lets himself be these days. Mark Flynn took one stroll through those same gutters and became the king of my opponent’s hill, just like that. That’s like losing a match with home field advantage! That’s gotta sting. My opponent was probably still feeling that sting when he got put out like yesterday’s garbage against Raion Kido.

LSM scoffs at the camera as she rolls her eyes to the moon and back. She crosses her arms across her chest and begins tapping the ground with her foot.

If you hear crying backstage after our match, don’t be worried amigos, it’s probably just my opponent whining to management again, for the millionth time. After all, isn’t that the only reason he got those beat-down bookings on Savage and Warfare? This grimy goon was running around for months, screaming at anyone who would listen that he’s out of work and demands a match. When that didn’t work, he just started making his demands more and more zany- hoping to shift the middle ground so much that the general managers would eventually book him somewhere on the midcard.

LSM takes one arm off her chest and brings it up to her shoulder snapping her fingers.

Then, the unthinkable happened. All the guys upstairs decided to call his bluff, and force him to put his gutter change where his mouth was. They said ‘you want a title shot? Have a title shot’, ‘you want a match against Flynn? Have a match against Flynn’...and what did my opponent do with those golden opportunities? He pissed them down the drain, just like he does with those kidney stones of his every mañana.

The luchadora shakes her head from side to side in clear disgust.

Losing back-to-back matches in the marquee should have shut this screeching jackyl up, but now I guess it’s up to me to finish the job and send this human refuse out to the trash. If you’re a betting man you should put your money on me to get this job done in 5 minutes or less, because I’ve never been one to shirk my chores and skirt my duties- I mean after all, it’s not a long walk from here to the trash bin and back. I’m a world class athlete, I train my skills everyday.

A match like this won’t even be a challenge for me- just a stepping stone.

LSM proudly pounds on her chest. She means every word she says, and she’s willing to stand on them.

My opponent is exactly that: just my opponent. His name doesn’t need to be said, it doesn’t even need to be put up on the card. I'm the only professional wrestler in this match, I’m the only wrestler people pay money to see in this match, I’m the only pedigreed champion in this match. My opponent’s just there so the folks have someone they can watch me work on, someone so awful they don’t have to feel bad about seeing their arm break in four places. My opponent’s name sounds as foul as he smells, those words don’t need to gutter-up any of my air time. My opponent doesn’t deserve a name. Names are for human beings, for things that matter, things that need to be remembered.

LSM stares into the camera with a cold and unforgiving vengeance.

The only thing anyone needs to remember about my opponent is that he deserves everything that’s coming to him on night 2 of Relentless- and he knows why.

The last thing we see as we fade to black is LSM turning to the side, revealing to us only the side of her face painted with the sugar skull.




[Image: 500_F_121086320_oMyproNHtGOjOExH30yGpamq51yNioiM.jpg]




A single car drives down a dirt road in the middle of Arizona’s Sonoran Desert, located smack dab in the middle of the route from Ciudad Juarez to Hollywood Studios. The car weaves dangerously back and forth through both lanes, barely avoiding the cactuses and armadillos that litter the sides of the road. Puffy rain clouds drift to the west overhead as the car on the road chases after them. The warmth from the beating sun breaks through the cloud cover and smothers our entire scene in an unbearable heat.

It is out here, in the middle of nowhere, that LSM finally realizes they are lost. We cut to a camera shot inside the car, and we see Charlie Nickles hunched over the steering wheel pressing the pedal to the medal. An unpainted Robyn Gonzalez sits in the passenger seat, buckled up for dear life.

You don’t know where you’re going, do you?! You said we were taking a shortcut!

I think we are!

What do you mean you THINK?

The Nickleman looks over to Robyn with the dismissive sneer of a bastardly father.

Didn’t you THINK you were taking a shortcut with the X-treme belt?

Robyn rolls her eyes and sits back in her seat, crossing her arms and puffing out some heated discontent.

So what you’re saying is: we’re completely lost.

Yeah, pretty much. But don’t worry, if we keep going this way we’ll probably be there in no time! I still have a good feeling about this!

Robyn shakes her head in annoyance before closing her eyes and doing that weird little thing Catholics do with their fingers over their chest. As Robyn’s hand makes the religious movements, the pentagram necklace resting on her collarbone glows bright green. The green hue turns darker and darker still as she whispers a prayer to Mother Mary. Charlie looks over at the glowing pentagram in shock. Robyn, however, doesn’t seem to notice that anything’s up…..not until Charlie loses control of the car and slams straight into a cactus!

¡MIERDA!!

FUCK!

The car drives through and over the now severed cactus before Charlie is able to steer it back onto the dirt road path. The Nickleman tries to drive on like nothing’s happened, but a nasty screeching can be heard up in the front wheel wells. A trail of black smoke is slithering out from beneath the engine hood and drifting up towards the cloud. Robyn hits her father and starts screaming at him to stop.

¡Deténgase! ¡Deténgase! ¡Aparca el coche!

The Nickleman sighs softly as he brings the car to a stop in the middle of the dirt road.

Yeah, so this is probably my bad. I think I’m having hallucinations from all those medications…I’m starting to see weird things again.

You probably killed the car! I told you that I could get myself to Relentless, I didn’t need your help getting to the show!

Yeah but, you know, I just thought we could spend some good, quality father-daughter time…doing fun stuff we never got to do back when you were younger, like road trips, like me taking you to the big competitions….

You can’t make up lost time, and now, we’re going to have to make up a LOT of lost time just to make it to the show on time!

Charlie puts the car in park before killing the ignition and looking over to LSM with a big dopey smile.

Well hey, at least we still have our vitamins!

The Nickleman reaches into his pocket and pulls out a literal fistful of Flintstones vitamins. He throws them all into his mouth and starts cracking them into powder with his busted molars. Robyn unbuckles her seatbelt before leaning forward and placing her head in her hands.

I told you we wouldn’t have phone service out in this desert, I don’t know why I let you take us out this way.

You tell me a lot of things. I don’t listen to most of them.

Yeah, I’ve figured that out by now. No es de extrañar que mamá haya dejado tu trasero.

What was that?

Robyn glares at Charlie before shaking her head dismissively at him.

Nothing. Now come on, we need to take a look at the damage and see if this automobile is even worth saving.

LSM and her bastardly father open their car doors and step out into the hot desert sands. A scorching wind greets them with pebbles to the face for their troubles, causing both of them to shield their faces with their hands reflexively.

Ahhh this sucks.

Yeah, it does! And it is your fault! Dios mío... siempre te estás quejando de los problemas que causas.

Charlie raises an eyebrow, curious about what was said but unable to understand and unwilling to ask. The pair reach the hood of the car before turning their backs on the whipping heat of the wind before Charlie reaches down and pops open the hood. Robyn grabs the built-in prop stick and sets it in place. Charlie lets the hood of the car fall onto the stick and rest in place before he and his daughter looked down at the engine itself, which was covered in a thick cloud of black smoke. Robyn started coughing her lungs out, but Charlie just inhaled all the smoke with a dope fiend’s smile.

Oh no, that can’t be good….I should have just flown like I wanted to! I bought the ticket and everything!

Charlie looks over to his daughter and cocks his head to the side curiously.

Wait, why didn’t you just fly then? I didn’t know you already had a plane ticket when I came down to Meheeco to pick you up. Why didn’t you tell me?

Because you never asked! You just showed up on my day and said

LSM does her best Charlie Nickles impression- and it’s pretty darn close.

‘Come on darling, I’m taking you to the pay per view!’

Charlie looks a bit downtrodden, rubbing the back of his neck as Robyn looks off to the side sheepishly.

And I didn’t want to hurt your feelings by saying no….

You don’t have to worry about my feelings. No one ever does.

I do.

Well cut that shit out. I don’t even worry about my feelings! I don’t think I have any! The liquor must have killed them. Shit, I can barely even feel what’s happening to me inside that ring anymore!

Robyn places a tender hand on her father’s shoulder as she looks through the empty emotion in his eyes.

I care about you, okay? And I thought it would be fun to spend some time on the road together! I’ve heard you get into a whole lot of shenanigans, and I’ve seen it on camera too! I thought maybe it would be fun to spend some quality time together.

Charlie looks down at Robyn with a soft-hearted smile as he wraps his arm around her shoulders, bringing her in close for a hug.

Well I hope these shenanigans are everything you were hoping for…

Robyn chuckles as she wipes a hopeful tear off her cheek.

All that and then some, I think it runs in our blood or something!

Robyn breaks off the hug with a sniffle before looking back towards the car.

But we need to figure out what we’re doing about this….

Charlie looks down at his daughter with tenderness, before looking back towards the car with concern. The Nickleman takes one look at the burned innards of the engine before scratching his head and throwing in the towel.

Well….it looks fucked.

Can’t you fix it? I’ve seen you doing a whole bunch of stuff with cars in the Bastard MegaChurch parking lot!

Taking parts off of cars is a whole nother’ trade than fixing them, sweetheart. This is way above my paygrade.

LSM sighs to herself before rubbing the temple of her forehead. A few beads of sweat are now trickling down her brow, but whether they’re caused by the stress or the heat is debatable.

And…just so you know…

Robyn looks back towards her father with hopeful anticipation.

I’m not really a cowboy, I just played one in the movies- so I won’t be able to do any kinda cool cowboy shit to get us home.  I do have a few guns in the trunk tho, in case we might need them.

LSM’s shoulders drop in exasperation as she leans forward exaggeratedly.

……great. Thanks for contributing that tidbit of information, you’re as helpful as always padre.

I try my best.

Sometimes, I wonder…wait, did you say you had GUNS in the trunk?! Dios Mio what do we need those for?

In case the cartel tries to fuck with us!

Why would the cartel fuck with us?!?! Besides, we’re definitely in Arizona already! I live right on the border, and we left hours ago!

It’s just in case! I never head down to Mexico without my straps! You know the kind of people that live in Mexico…

I can’t believe you….you know I’M MEXICAN, right?

Yeah….so? You should know exactly what I’m talking about! I can’t believe your mom let you run around Mexico without a glock-nine on you at all times!

Robyn exhales softly before just looking away from her father in disbelief. She looks down towards the engine of the car and starts tinkering with pieces here and there, partly to try and fix the car, but partly just to take her mind off all this stress.

Nickles looks into the sky curiously as Robyn continues to examine the car’s engine, trying to remove spark plugs for really no good reason. Charlie starts laughing to himself as he looks at the clouds moving across the sky, causing Robyn to look back towards him with a flash of anger.

Seriously? What are you laughing at right now?

That cloud kind of looks like Micheal Graves sucking his own dick!

….can we not talk about THAT GUY right now, okay? The whole thing is kind of a sore topic for me….

Huh, what? I’m serious, just look!

Charlie points up towards one of the clouds, and sure enough- it DOES look like Micheal Graves sucking his own dick! Even the always-so-serious LSM can’t hold back a few chuckles at the image.

And there’s the Raion Kido and the Mark Flynn cloud, walking away pulling up their zippers, because they just got done running a train on the Micheal Graves cloud!

Okay…now you’re just going off on some drug-addled tangent!

Charlie pops a few more Flintstones multivitamins into his mouth as he giggles, watching the clouds soar by overhead. The camera slowly zooms out as Robyn sets to work trying to repair the car’s completely fucked engine. Off in the distance, on either side of the dirt road, we can see two convoys of armored cars hauling ass towards our stranded superstars…..]]>

To'a las putas 'tá mejor que ya se callen

Que yo no quiero opiniones de más nadie


The hero of our story, Latina Submission Machina, stands beneath a spotlight in front of an intentionally obscured background. Her red, white, and green wrestling attire shines brightly as the sequins on the fabric reflect the filming lights. LSM has won 7 XWF championships since she joined the XWF last year, but to her that was no cause for celebration. LSM stepped in front of the camera with a look of barely restrained rage. The sugar skull artwork covering half of her face gives us only a glimpse of the darkness hiding just beneath LSM's shimmering surface.

Last year on my first ever night of Relentless, I ended Big Money Oswald’s Anarchy Championship reign. That night I became the Anarchy Champion, catapulting myself into stardom on Thursday nights like no one ever has before me. Even my friend Ruby is telling folks that I’m the biggest star Anarchy has ever produced. My first night of Relentless was like a springboard for my career that I never saw coming, because I pole vaulted those back-to-back Anarchy Championship reigns into a War Games Captainship and an X-treme title run……

LSM looks off to the side as she shakes her head in disgust.

Both of which went nowhere. So here we are, back to square one, exactly one year later.

LSM turns her gaze back to the camera as she balls one of her hands into a fist.

This year on the second night of Relentless I plan to catapult myself once again. And this time, since I’m getting more air time than I did last year, I know I’ll land even higher, and on my feet! After I come down from this big win at Relentless I’m going to hit the ground running, because I always have my eyes on the ultimate prize- but I’ll never overlook an opponent, no matter how much it hurts to actually look at them. I know that each and every baby step along this path is worth taking- no matter how ugly and deformed that baby I’m stepping on happens to be!

LSM pretends to stomp down on a deformed baby before she makes a wild gesture with her arm, swinging it off to the side to end the bit. She then looks back up towards the camera with an icy glare. She’s getting worked up…she seems big mad about something.

But that’s all my opponent really is, right? A big, ugly, deformed baby. He’s more or less a Mystcarriage, if you will, because he liked to play around in Jenny Myst’s after-failed-birth so much he’s practically become the stuff through some sort of sick osmosis! He plays around in the gutters so much, it’s all he lets himself be these days. Mark Flynn took one stroll through those same gutters and became the king of my opponent’s hill, just like that. That’s like losing a match with home field advantage! That’s gotta sting. My opponent was probably still feeling that sting when he got put out like yesterday’s garbage against Raion Kido.

LSM scoffs at the camera as she rolls her eyes to the moon and back. She crosses her arms across her chest and begins tapping the ground with her foot.

If you hear crying backstage after our match, don’t be worried amigos, it’s probably just my opponent whining to management again, for the millionth time. After all, isn’t that the only reason he got those beat-down bookings on Savage and Warfare? This grimy goon was running around for months, screaming at anyone who would listen that he’s out of work and demands a match. When that didn’t work, he just started making his demands more and more zany- hoping to shift the middle ground so much that the general managers would eventually book him somewhere on the midcard.

LSM takes one arm off her chest and brings it up to her shoulder snapping her fingers.

Then, the unthinkable happened. All the guys upstairs decided to call his bluff, and force him to put his gutter change where his mouth was. They said ‘you want a title shot? Have a title shot’, ‘you want a match against Flynn? Have a match against Flynn’...and what did my opponent do with those golden opportunities? He pissed them down the drain, just like he does with those kidney stones of his every mañana.

The luchadora shakes her head from side to side in clear disgust.

Losing back-to-back matches in the marquee should have shut this screeching jackyl up, but now I guess it’s up to me to finish the job and send this human refuse out to the trash. If you’re a betting man you should put your money on me to get this job done in 5 minutes or less, because I’ve never been one to shirk my chores and skirt my duties- I mean after all, it’s not a long walk from here to the trash bin and back. I’m a world class athlete, I train my skills everyday.

A match like this won’t even be a challenge for me- just a stepping stone.

LSM proudly pounds on her chest. She means every word she says, and she’s willing to stand on them.

My opponent is exactly that: just my opponent. His name doesn’t need to be said, it doesn’t even need to be put up on the card. I'm the only professional wrestler in this match, I’m the only wrestler people pay money to see in this match, I’m the only pedigreed champion in this match. My opponent’s just there so the folks have someone they can watch me work on, someone so awful they don’t have to feel bad about seeing their arm break in four places. My opponent’s name sounds as foul as he smells, those words don’t need to gutter-up any of my air time. My opponent doesn’t deserve a name. Names are for human beings, for things that matter, things that need to be remembered.

LSM stares into the camera with a cold and unforgiving vengeance.

The only thing anyone needs to remember about my opponent is that he deserves everything that’s coming to him on night 2 of Relentless- and he knows why.

The last thing we see as we fade to black is LSM turning to the side, revealing to us only the side of her face painted with the sugar skull.




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A single car drives down a dirt road in the middle of Arizona’s Sonoran Desert, located smack dab in the middle of the route from Ciudad Juarez to Hollywood Studios. The car weaves dangerously back and forth through both lanes, barely avoiding the cactuses and armadillos that litter the sides of the road. Puffy rain clouds drift to the west overhead as the car on the road chases after them. The warmth from the beating sun breaks through the cloud cover and smothers our entire scene in an unbearable heat.

It is out here, in the middle of nowhere, that LSM finally realizes they are lost. We cut to a camera shot inside the car, and we see Charlie Nickles hunched over the steering wheel pressing the pedal to the medal. An unpainted Robyn Gonzalez sits in the passenger seat, buckled up for dear life.

You don’t know where you’re going, do you?! You said we were taking a shortcut!

I think we are!

What do you mean you THINK?

The Nickleman looks over to Robyn with the dismissive sneer of a bastardly father.

Didn’t you THINK you were taking a shortcut with the X-treme belt?

Robyn rolls her eyes and sits back in her seat, crossing her arms and puffing out some heated discontent.

So what you’re saying is: we’re completely lost.

Yeah, pretty much. But don’t worry, if we keep going this way we’ll probably be there in no time! I still have a good feeling about this!

Robyn shakes her head in annoyance before closing her eyes and doing that weird little thing Catholics do with their fingers over their chest. As Robyn’s hand makes the religious movements, the pentagram necklace resting on her collarbone glows bright green. The green hue turns darker and darker still as she whispers a prayer to Mother Mary. Charlie looks over at the glowing pentagram in shock. Robyn, however, doesn’t seem to notice that anything’s up…..not until Charlie loses control of the car and slams straight into a cactus!

¡MIERDA!!

FUCK!

The car drives through and over the now severed cactus before Charlie is able to steer it back onto the dirt road path. The Nickleman tries to drive on like nothing’s happened, but a nasty screeching can be heard up in the front wheel wells. A trail of black smoke is slithering out from beneath the engine hood and drifting up towards the cloud. Robyn hits her father and starts screaming at him to stop.

¡Deténgase! ¡Deténgase! ¡Aparca el coche!

The Nickleman sighs softly as he brings the car to a stop in the middle of the dirt road.

Yeah, so this is probably my bad. I think I’m having hallucinations from all those medications…I’m starting to see weird things again.

You probably killed the car! I told you that I could get myself to Relentless, I didn’t need your help getting to the show!

Yeah but, you know, I just thought we could spend some good, quality father-daughter time…doing fun stuff we never got to do back when you were younger, like road trips, like me taking you to the big competitions….

You can’t make up lost time, and now, we’re going to have to make up a LOT of lost time just to make it to the show on time!

Charlie puts the car in park before killing the ignition and looking over to LSM with a big dopey smile.

Well hey, at least we still have our vitamins!

The Nickleman reaches into his pocket and pulls out a literal fistful of Flintstones vitamins. He throws them all into his mouth and starts cracking them into powder with his busted molars. Robyn unbuckles her seatbelt before leaning forward and placing her head in her hands.

I told you we wouldn’t have phone service out in this desert, I don’t know why I let you take us out this way.

You tell me a lot of things. I don’t listen to most of them.

Yeah, I’ve figured that out by now. No es de extrañar que mamá haya dejado tu trasero.

What was that?

Robyn glares at Charlie before shaking her head dismissively at him.

Nothing. Now come on, we need to take a look at the damage and see if this automobile is even worth saving.

LSM and her bastardly father open their car doors and step out into the hot desert sands. A scorching wind greets them with pebbles to the face for their troubles, causing both of them to shield their faces with their hands reflexively.

Ahhh this sucks.

Yeah, it does! And it is your fault! Dios mío... siempre te estás quejando de los problemas que causas.

Charlie raises an eyebrow, curious about what was said but unable to understand and unwilling to ask. The pair reach the hood of the car before turning their backs on the whipping heat of the wind before Charlie reaches down and pops open the hood. Robyn grabs the built-in prop stick and sets it in place. Charlie lets the hood of the car fall onto the stick and rest in place before he and his daughter looked down at the engine itself, which was covered in a thick cloud of black smoke. Robyn started coughing her lungs out, but Charlie just inhaled all the smoke with a dope fiend’s smile.

Oh no, that can’t be good….I should have just flown like I wanted to! I bought the ticket and everything!

Charlie looks over to his daughter and cocks his head to the side curiously.

Wait, why didn’t you just fly then? I didn’t know you already had a plane ticket when I came down to Meheeco to pick you up. Why didn’t you tell me?

Because you never asked! You just showed up on my day and said

LSM does her best Charlie Nickles impression- and it’s pretty darn close.

‘Come on darling, I’m taking you to the pay per view!’

Charlie looks a bit downtrodden, rubbing the back of his neck as Robyn looks off to the side sheepishly.

And I didn’t want to hurt your feelings by saying no….

You don’t have to worry about my feelings. No one ever does.

I do.

Well cut that shit out. I don’t even worry about my feelings! I don’t think I have any! The liquor must have killed them. Shit, I can barely even feel what’s happening to me inside that ring anymore!

Robyn places a tender hand on her father’s shoulder as she looks through the empty emotion in his eyes.

I care about you, okay? And I thought it would be fun to spend some time on the road together! I’ve heard you get into a whole lot of shenanigans, and I’ve seen it on camera too! I thought maybe it would be fun to spend some quality time together.

Charlie looks down at Robyn with a soft-hearted smile as he wraps his arm around her shoulders, bringing her in close for a hug.

Well I hope these shenanigans are everything you were hoping for…

Robyn chuckles as she wipes a hopeful tear off her cheek.

All that and then some, I think it runs in our blood or something!

Robyn breaks off the hug with a sniffle before looking back towards the car.

But we need to figure out what we’re doing about this….

Charlie looks down at his daughter with tenderness, before looking back towards the car with concern. The Nickleman takes one look at the burned innards of the engine before scratching his head and throwing in the towel.

Well….it looks fucked.

Can’t you fix it? I’ve seen you doing a whole bunch of stuff with cars in the Bastard MegaChurch parking lot!

Taking parts off of cars is a whole nother’ trade than fixing them, sweetheart. This is way above my paygrade.

LSM sighs to herself before rubbing the temple of her forehead. A few beads of sweat are now trickling down her brow, but whether they’re caused by the stress or the heat is debatable.

And…just so you know…

Robyn looks back towards her father with hopeful anticipation.

I’m not really a cowboy, I just played one in the movies- so I won’t be able to do any kinda cool cowboy shit to get us home.  I do have a few guns in the trunk tho, in case we might need them.

LSM’s shoulders drop in exasperation as she leans forward exaggeratedly.

……great. Thanks for contributing that tidbit of information, you’re as helpful as always padre.

I try my best.

Sometimes, I wonder…wait, did you say you had GUNS in the trunk?! Dios Mio what do we need those for?

In case the cartel tries to fuck with us!

Why would the cartel fuck with us?!?! Besides, we’re definitely in Arizona already! I live right on the border, and we left hours ago!

It’s just in case! I never head down to Mexico without my straps! You know the kind of people that live in Mexico…

I can’t believe you….you know I’M MEXICAN, right?

Yeah….so? You should know exactly what I’m talking about! I can’t believe your mom let you run around Mexico without a glock-nine on you at all times!

Robyn exhales softly before just looking away from her father in disbelief. She looks down towards the engine of the car and starts tinkering with pieces here and there, partly to try and fix the car, but partly just to take her mind off all this stress.

Nickles looks into the sky curiously as Robyn continues to examine the car’s engine, trying to remove spark plugs for really no good reason. Charlie starts laughing to himself as he looks at the clouds moving across the sky, causing Robyn to look back towards him with a flash of anger.

Seriously? What are you laughing at right now?

That cloud kind of looks like Micheal Graves sucking his own dick!

….can we not talk about THAT GUY right now, okay? The whole thing is kind of a sore topic for me….

Huh, what? I’m serious, just look!

Charlie points up towards one of the clouds, and sure enough- it DOES look like Micheal Graves sucking his own dick! Even the always-so-serious LSM can’t hold back a few chuckles at the image.

And there’s the Raion Kido and the Mark Flynn cloud, walking away pulling up their zippers, because they just got done running a train on the Micheal Graves cloud!

Okay…now you’re just going off on some drug-addled tangent!

Charlie pops a few more Flintstones multivitamins into his mouth as he giggles, watching the clouds soar by overhead. The camera slowly zooms out as Robyn sets to work trying to repair the car’s completely fucked engine. Off in the distance, on either side of the dirt road, we can see two convoys of armored cars hauling ass towards our stranded superstars…..]]> <![CDATA[What The Actual....]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44543 Fri, 16 Sep 2022 21:45:13 -0700 Atara Raven]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=44543 Prologue

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[Image: kjr81YU.gif]

[Image: CEeVsrc.gif]

[Image: VzC5SDm.gif]
"Yassas Doves! Get lined up for some Atty philoxenia because we are about to μετατρέψτε το σε οίκο ανοχής and get this whore happening. These three are about the most prosaic stodgy malakas this side of Atlantic and I'm hoping I don't have to pop a tit to get some blood flowing in Twilight Edward Gothpa. I mean, I've pretty much made my case already, or they have rather so who knows. I've got unlimited reign to play all my childish effin games."

First and foremost I'm going to to get the whole Hard Way or Easy Way thing out of the way and I choose.... 


Introspection

[color=#white]It hadn't been the result she hoped for, but Atty was no stranger to falling short to the XWF's Universal Champions. The Engineer or Corey, Alias then Alias again....there was really nothing to be ashamed of in losing to those two. They were two of the three absolute best to ever grace the XWF ring and while Atara typically didn't worry over it this past one to Raion was different. The sting lingered a little longer than rest.

Atara had nothing personal against Raion, he was a great athlete and did the belt proud. Kido deserved every praise but with everyone else Atara could always point to something something she had done to herself to cost a win. Lack of preparation, lack of motivation, just mailing it in. She knew better than anyone her propensity to shoot herself in the foot but this past match she could honestly say she hadn't. She felt she had given it her and still came up short. Maybe it was the ring rust maybe it was those doubts going into the locker room about her desire to even wrestle anymore. She couldn't peg it but what Atara did know, what she had left Savage with, was a realization that she still could do it. That the fans and the XWF still wanted her to do it. She even felt the like roster wanted it which was something she had never felt.

The jitters, the doubt, all the anxiety had left her once Blue Monday had hit the PA and that chill from the roar the crowd had hit her spine. There was a curiosity festering in Atty that wondered what might happen if she put her foot down and Minimum Effort Atty was a little more Atty. What if she was Don't Let Ismini Down Atty, make Your Husband Proud Atty. Maybe that complacency she felt before facing Raion was just fear of failing with those two pair of eyes, the two most important fans she had, watching her now. She couldnt let her baby down, Atara wouldn't make them ashamed.

The Grecians only real sad story, her tesr jerking empathize with me moment was growing up without her mother. Greece's economic collapse, the years hiding her accent from American bullies, all the shit people throwed in her lap, none of it had topped that feeling. She would never know if her mother was proud. God forbid tragedy, she would know if her daughter was and the first step obviously was Relentless. The biggest stage of them all. It was PPV night, and The Goddess never failed to deliver on when the spotlight was the brightest.

It was the Main Event. Ιt was the Xtreme Title, her first championship as a professional. It was the rode back to Kido and that Universal belt. All her gripes and notions of what that belt meant, the petty grudge held for tanking the Shooting Star, it was all gone now. This would be a new start and for once Aphrodite Incarnate was excited to be competing.

Maybe it was the electricity surrounding the PPV. Maybe it was the thrill of being back in the forefront.. maybe it was the Adderall. Maybe it was the coke from the Velvet Rabbit bathroom....but Showtime Atty was ready.

Some Bishes we're about to get effed all the way up.[/white]



Ring Worm

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Yassas Doves and Hello Ring Master! Welcome to Relentless and what is soon going to be Atty's Pleasure Paradise tower. Live and in the flesh sweetheart, I'm Aphrodite Incarnate, the Goddess, Atara Raven and I'll be your host through every level of this heaven reaching  goddess tit tickler erected for our bout. Before I get started  proper Ring Master, I want to take a moment to thank your grandfather for service. He failed at war like he failed at passing down a single genetic trait worth the sacrifice but what ya gonna do?

You're Floridian after all, but hey, you're not the worst 300 pound sack of hot air from the state. Now I know what you're thinking RM, you've got your whole baby face good guy act going ffs™ and you're all like, Whoa Pretty Greek lady, why the hostility? Where's the respect and spirit of friendly compet...yada yada yada shut the fuck up and suck my asshole!

Let's cut the shit and let me be dead ass with you. The whole hard work, take your vitamins schtick went out with the 80s like cocaine and bullshit time traveling movies but it's not your repetitive lazy ass script I have a problem with.

The fuck is all this face of the company, I'm a legend, what the people need malaka?

Locker room leader bs?

Have you even sniffed gold? Can you even find the bathroom because I've listened and watch you and you do good to not trip over words or feet.

I've carried gold in almost every promotion thats had the honour of cutting my check RM, they make belts specifically for me. I have literally...literally. Not figuratively, but like literally literally had a champion walk to the ring the night of a match and just hand me her belt, I've trade belts for shots at other belts and won that same belt I traded the same night.

Bish I just gave a up posh desk job in a front a office to comeback and do this. Talent Relations. Literally, my job was to lead talent!

My social media following alone is one of the pillars of this company! Not really, but prolly. My merch sales do keep Theo and Vinnie's dicks hard for you guys to blow to keep wasting airspace. This company has insured this face just so it can stay on a T-shirt!

You've never mentioned me RM? I'm literally the living breathing embodiment of everything you stand for.

Not once. Unmentioned Atty.

Nickels. Knuckles. Kido. Names ring a bell Dove, I've noticed you like to stroke egos once you get that ass spanked so you best believe at Atty's Pleasure Paradise we're taking a trip to Atty's Secreterum Museum next door and I'm gonna give that ass all that it can handle. So stand on your shit baby doll and keep that I'm Never Scared attitude.....

....because there are no safe words.

The future of XWF? Pfft, I'm not even the best RM and your miles away from my coming to close my league. You're out of your depth Dove. All the determination and high hopes in the world ain't helping you come Relentless. Go back to Florida kid.


More Introspection

Funny thing was Atara's anxiety. When she had one seemingly under control five more would arise it's place. Some professional, some private, all of them warring with her motivation and optimism. It was the thing that sent her spiraling so many times before, it was the reason for all the embarrassing crash and urns. The Drunk Atty outburst, those insecurities coming or caving her entirely. Atara had changed a lot the past year and so I had the XWF.

It was day one learning all over again but the exception this round was she had atleast read the brochure first and she wasn't arriving alone like she had during her debut. The support system was entirely different this round. With James beside her now, Atty's foundation could burden the weight of those anxieties a little better.

James Raven's Atty. G.O.A.T Atty. Fuck Anxiety Atty. All the Good Things Atty.  I Can Do Anything Atty. Alias didn't put these in his Atty Epithet BooK Atty.

Sad face memory lane Atty.

Breath Atty.

Let's continue roasting bitches Atty.


Gary Goth

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Goth.
I'm not going to lie Dove, I was really excited when I first caught wind you here. You had the high praise of one of the few men, Centurion, in this sport I respect both professionally and as a friend. That's something I think is kind of hard to come by but you know....you fuckin ruined it. I mean when Centurion went on that Cyren bit I was kinda like...whoa but then I realized that just Centurion being a dick and I was like ok this guy might be something to look out for.

Then you fucking ruined it. Yay you, you have a win over a XWF legend but I'm going to flat out sy it. It was a fluke. It will never happen again. Because I'm really going hard on this match I've been watching tape after tape after tape and for all your harping on the longevity of your career, of being a veteran in the sport, you have done absolutely not a fucking ounce of research, film study or anything on the first cotdamn opponent. I assumed you were a chair shot brain dead relic by the incoherence of your speech and just how boggled the jumbled contradictory horseshit that comes out your mouth is...

... But then I realized you got nothing to say so you pull one out of your ass like you did with Latina. Like you did with Centurion and like you're going to pray to God you do at Relentless.

Maybe you have done a little due diligence on Latina because you seem to have a real hard on for her and I don't wanna pry but...I do like to gossip. Did she mention your dead whore and how she can't make you sammiches no more or something? You know they say God works in mysterious ways and you paddle on about God so maybe....just maybe if you didn't go around calling yourself the Kings of the Kings, because that's Jesus, she might still be here?

What's that have to do with this match, absolutely nothing. Just a tip of my hand to say history loving Archeologist Atty did her studies and I'm not some naive rookie your spent ass can intimidate.

You slept on Gamer Girl.

Rookie mistake.

She's kind of a legend in her own right in that ring and you scoffed at her like she was fresh from a performance center. She's one of the few women who made this profession seem even remotely possible for me. You want to come and swing your dick like a hot shot because you lucked out on Centurion and beat some developmental twat from Anarchy?

Gamer Girl was first. The Goddess will be next and Garret Goth boy is gonna get slapped right back to wherever Mac Bane found him because your getting into the deeper end Goth. With athletes, with superstars, with established and proven individuals who shine every where. Who don't have to announce themselves and fucking audition like you did you here.

It didn't take me a hundred years to become a legitimate and known threat Goth. I'm fucking wrestling royalty. A traditionally trained Pankrationist bred in the country this sport was invented but ramble on Goth Man Jenkins like your daddy lectures amount to to shit. Like you amount to shit. You've been caught sleeping bitch, your little charade is up.

Haunt the 24/7 halls because that the closest you'll ever come to the Xtreme Title.




Big Preesh

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You know Preesh, being a B.O.B alum myself it's really kinda hard to do the verbal evisceration thing even if you are a dimwitted try hard fuqboi one chicken nugget away from a triple bypass. Especially considering where you started and now where you've ended.

I'd call it a Cinderella story if ya know, Cinderella was Lucifer and if Lucifer had the brains of Gus Gus and if Gus Gus was a disgusting fucking pig raiding my cotdamn locker room mini fridges for my babies titty milk!

Dude like what the actual Fuck! Can't you fucking read, it was right on the label!

What's more? That's not even the most shocking thing you've done this week. No, not the ring rats. No, not remembering to wear deodorant!

You, Big Preesh, are the only one of the three swinging dicks in this match to make any sense to me and to have any kind of conviction or belief that you stick to without completely contradicting yourself five words later!

Bitches. Money. Booze. You're a 700 pound breathe of almost fresh air Preesh and I'm sorry your heart is gonna prolly give out on you before you reach the top of the tower at Relentless.

I mean facts are facts Preesh, the structural integrity of those knees can't be good ffs™. It's like 60 something floors, I don't know, I googled it. We know your posture and spine are shot I mean they go to be.

Ngl lie big guy, when it's me and you, I'm half tempted to strip naked, stick a slice of cheese to my ass and just run the stairs.

You're going to give chase and your going to die. I really don't want your death on my conscience though.

Scratch that.

Just let me know when you get light headed so I can wait for you to pass out. I'll make it look like I knocked you out so the ladies don't think less of you cuz you're not winning...

Preesh the Xtreme Champion, pfft. Preesh retaining the Xtreme Championship......

Fuck outta here and shit in your face.
[color=#white]
[/align]]]> Prologue

[Image: 1w8x7pl.gif]

[Image: kjr81YU.gif]

[Image: CEeVsrc.gif]

[Image: VzC5SDm.gif]
"Yassas Doves! Get lined up for some Atty philoxenia because we are about to μετατρέψτε το σε οίκο ανοχής and get this whore happening. These three are about the most prosaic stodgy malakas this side of Atlantic and I'm hoping I don't have to pop a tit to get some blood flowing in Twilight Edward Gothpa. I mean, I've pretty much made my case already, or they have rather so who knows. I've got unlimited reign to play all my childish effin games."

First and foremost I'm going to to get the whole Hard Way or Easy Way thing out of the way and I choose.... 


Introspection

[color=#white]It hadn't been the result she hoped for, but Atty was no stranger to falling short to the XWF's Universal Champions. The Engineer or Corey, Alias then Alias again....there was really nothing to be ashamed of in losing to those two. They were two of the three absolute best to ever grace the XWF ring and while Atara typically didn't worry over it this past one to Raion was different. The sting lingered a little longer than rest.

Atara had nothing personal against Raion, he was a great athlete and did the belt proud. Kido deserved every praise but with everyone else Atara could always point to something something she had done to herself to cost a win. Lack of preparation, lack of motivation, just mailing it in. She knew better than anyone her propensity to shoot herself in the foot but this past match she could honestly say she hadn't. She felt she had given it her and still came up short. Maybe it was the ring rust maybe it was those doubts going into the locker room about her desire to even wrestle anymore. She couldn't peg it but what Atara did know, what she had left Savage with, was a realization that she still could do it. That the fans and the XWF still wanted her to do it. She even felt the like roster wanted it which was something she had never felt.

The jitters, the doubt, all the anxiety had left her once Blue Monday had hit the PA and that chill from the roar the crowd had hit her spine. There was a curiosity festering in Atty that wondered what might happen if she put her foot down and Minimum Effort Atty was a little more Atty. What if she was Don't Let Ismini Down Atty, make Your Husband Proud Atty. Maybe that complacency she felt before facing Raion was just fear of failing with those two pair of eyes, the two most important fans she had, watching her now. She couldnt let her baby down, Atara wouldn't make them ashamed.

The Grecians only real sad story, her tesr jerking empathize with me moment was growing up without her mother. Greece's economic collapse, the years hiding her accent from American bullies, all the shit people throwed in her lap, none of it had topped that feeling. She would never know if her mother was proud. God forbid tragedy, she would know if her daughter was and the first step obviously was Relentless. The biggest stage of them all. It was PPV night, and The Goddess never failed to deliver on when the spotlight was the brightest.

It was the Main Event. Ιt was the Xtreme Title, her first championship as a professional. It was the rode back to Kido and that Universal belt. All her gripes and notions of what that belt meant, the petty grudge held for tanking the Shooting Star, it was all gone now. This would be a new start and for once Aphrodite Incarnate was excited to be competing.

Maybe it was the electricity surrounding the PPV. Maybe it was the thrill of being back in the forefront.. maybe it was the Adderall. Maybe it was the coke from the Velvet Rabbit bathroom....but Showtime Atty was ready.

Some Bishes we're about to get effed all the way up.[/white]



Ring Worm

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Yassas Doves and Hello Ring Master! Welcome to Relentless and what is soon going to be Atty's Pleasure Paradise tower. Live and in the flesh sweetheart, I'm Aphrodite Incarnate, the Goddess, Atara Raven and I'll be your host through every level of this heaven reaching  goddess tit tickler erected for our bout. Before I get started  proper Ring Master, I want to take a moment to thank your grandfather for service. He failed at war like he failed at passing down a single genetic trait worth the sacrifice but what ya gonna do?

You're Floridian after all, but hey, you're not the worst 300 pound sack of hot air from the state. Now I know what you're thinking RM, you've got your whole baby face good guy act going ffs™ and you're all like, Whoa Pretty Greek lady, why the hostility? Where's the respect and spirit of friendly compet...yada yada yada shut the fuck up and suck my asshole!

Let's cut the shit and let me be dead ass with you. The whole hard work, take your vitamins schtick went out with the 80s like cocaine and bullshit time traveling movies but it's not your repetitive lazy ass script I have a problem with.

The fuck is all this face of the company, I'm a legend, what the people need malaka?

Locker room leader bs?

Have you even sniffed gold? Can you even find the bathroom because I've listened and watch you and you do good to not trip over words or feet.

I've carried gold in almost every promotion thats had the honour of cutting my check RM, they make belts specifically for me. I have literally...literally. Not figuratively, but like literally literally had a champion walk to the ring the night of a match and just hand me her belt, I've trade belts for shots at other belts and won that same belt I traded the same night.

Bish I just gave a up posh desk job in a front a office to comeback and do this. Talent Relations. Literally, my job was to lead talent!

My social media following alone is one of the pillars of this company! Not really, but prolly. My merch sales do keep Theo and Vinnie's dicks hard for you guys to blow to keep wasting airspace. This company has insured this face just so it can stay on a T-shirt!

You've never mentioned me RM? I'm literally the living breathing embodiment of everything you stand for.

Not once. Unmentioned Atty.

Nickels. Knuckles. Kido. Names ring a bell Dove, I've noticed you like to stroke egos once you get that ass spanked so you best believe at Atty's Pleasure Paradise we're taking a trip to Atty's Secreterum Museum next door and I'm gonna give that ass all that it can handle. So stand on your shit baby doll and keep that I'm Never Scared attitude.....

....because there are no safe words.

The future of XWF? Pfft, I'm not even the best RM and your miles away from my coming to close my league. You're out of your depth Dove. All the determination and high hopes in the world ain't helping you come Relentless. Go back to Florida kid.


More Introspection

Funny thing was Atara's anxiety. When she had one seemingly under control five more would arise it's place. Some professional, some private, all of them warring with her motivation and optimism. It was the thing that sent her spiraling so many times before, it was the reason for all the embarrassing crash and urns. The Drunk Atty outburst, those insecurities coming or caving her entirely. Atara had changed a lot the past year and so I had the XWF.

It was day one learning all over again but the exception this round was she had atleast read the brochure first and she wasn't arriving alone like she had during her debut. The support system was entirely different this round. With James beside her now, Atty's foundation could burden the weight of those anxieties a little better.

James Raven's Atty. G.O.A.T Atty. Fuck Anxiety Atty. All the Good Things Atty.  I Can Do Anything Atty. Alias didn't put these in his Atty Epithet BooK Atty.

Sad face memory lane Atty.

Breath Atty.

Let's continue roasting bitches Atty.


Gary Goth

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Goth.
I'm not going to lie Dove, I was really excited when I first caught wind you here. You had the high praise of one of the few men, Centurion, in this sport I respect both professionally and as a friend. That's something I think is kind of hard to come by but you know....you fuckin ruined it. I mean when Centurion went on that Cyren bit I was kinda like...whoa but then I realized that just Centurion being a dick and I was like ok this guy might be something to look out for.

Then you fucking ruined it. Yay you, you have a win over a XWF legend but I'm going to flat out sy it. It was a fluke. It will never happen again. Because I'm really going hard on this match I've been watching tape after tape after tape and for all your harping on the longevity of your career, of being a veteran in the sport, you have done absolutely not a fucking ounce of research, film study or anything on the first cotdamn opponent. I assumed you were a chair shot brain dead relic by the incoherence of your speech and just how boggled the jumbled contradictory horseshit that comes out your mouth is...

... But then I realized you got nothing to say so you pull one out of your ass like you did with Latina. Like you did with Centurion and like you're going to pray to God you do at Relentless.

Maybe you have done a little due diligence on Latina because you seem to have a real hard on for her and I don't wanna pry but...I do like to gossip. Did she mention your dead whore and how she can't make you sammiches no more or something? You know they say God works in mysterious ways and you paddle on about God so maybe....just maybe if you didn't go around calling yourself the Kings of the Kings, because that's Jesus, she might still be here?

What's that have to do with this match, absolutely nothing. Just a tip of my hand to say history loving Archeologist Atty did her studies and I'm not some naive rookie your spent ass can intimidate.

You slept on Gamer Girl.

Rookie mistake.

She's kind of a legend in her own right in that ring and you scoffed at her like she was fresh from a performance center. She's one of the few women who made this profession seem even remotely possible for me. You want to come and swing your dick like a hot shot because you lucked out on Centurion and beat some developmental twat from Anarchy?

Gamer Girl was first. The Goddess will be next and Garret Goth boy is gonna get slapped right back to wherever Mac Bane found him because your getting into the deeper end Goth. With athletes, with superstars, with established and proven individuals who shine every where. Who don't have to announce themselves and fucking audition like you did you here.

It didn't take me a hundred years to become a legitimate and known threat Goth. I'm fucking wrestling royalty. A traditionally trained Pankrationist bred in the country this sport was invented but ramble on Goth Man Jenkins like your daddy lectures amount to to shit. Like you amount to shit. You've been caught sleeping bitch, your little charade is up.

Haunt the 24/7 halls because that the closest you'll ever come to the Xtreme Title.




Big Preesh

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You know Preesh, being a B.O.B alum myself it's really kinda hard to do the verbal evisceration thing even if you are a dimwitted try hard fuqboi one chicken nugget away from a triple bypass. Especially considering where you started and now where you've ended.

I'd call it a Cinderella story if ya know, Cinderella was Lucifer and if Lucifer had the brains of Gus Gus and if Gus Gus was a disgusting fucking pig raiding my cotdamn locker room mini fridges for my babies titty milk!

Dude like what the actual Fuck! Can't you fucking read, it was right on the label!

What's more? That's not even the most shocking thing you've done this week. No, not the ring rats. No, not remembering to wear deodorant!

You, Big Preesh, are the only one of the three swinging dicks in this match to make any sense to me and to have any kind of conviction or belief that you stick to without completely contradicting yourself five words later!

Bitches. Money. Booze. You're a 700 pound breathe of almost fresh air Preesh and I'm sorry your heart is gonna prolly give out on you before you reach the top of the tower at Relentless.

I mean facts are facts Preesh, the structural integrity of those knees can't be good ffs™. It's like 60 something floors, I don't know, I googled it. We know your posture and spine are shot I mean they go to be.

Ngl lie big guy, when it's me and you, I'm half tempted to strip naked, stick a slice of cheese to my ass and just run the stairs.

You're going to give chase and your going to die. I really don't want your death on my conscience though.

Scratch that.

Just let me know when you get light headed so I can wait for you to pass out. I'll make it look like I knocked you out so the ladies don't think less of you cuz you're not winning...

Preesh the Xtreme Champion, pfft. Preesh retaining the Xtreme Championship......

Fuck outta here and shit in your face.
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