<![CDATA[X-treme Wrestling Federation - Ides of March 2025 RP Board]]> https://xwf1999.com/ Mon, 06 Apr 2026 21:24:35 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[The Ides of Chuck: Evolution]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48718 Fri, 28 Mar 2025 23:59:41 -0700 Charlie Nickles]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48718 I don’t want to be your King.

I’ve seen the kind of ‘Kings’ you people crown and I don’t want any part of it. I don’t want your cheap praise or your fake accolades. I don’t want your crown of thorns and I damn sure don’t want you to give me my “flowers”.

Not anymore.

Not after everything I’ve put myself through all for the sake of you people. I’ve shattered my body and my mind, I’ve broken my family and my bonds, all for you people. I spoon-fed you my misery, each and every week for years, but your stomachs were never full. You always demanded more: more bloodshed, more violence, more agony! And I always delivered. All in hopes that one day, you people would finally love me…love me enough to make me forget what I’ve done. 

But that road ends here. I’m done running from my past.

Tonight is when everything in the XWF finally changes.

I don’t want your shallow praises and your cheap accolades, I don’t want your crown of thorns….not anymore...but she does.

Can’t you see?

The era of Kings is over.

Now and forevermore, there will be one Queen to rule them all: the living and the dead alike. Her holy reign will wash away the blood on my hands. Her rebirth will be my only salvation.

Tonight, everything in the XWF finally changes. Because tonight, SHE returns. To take back the future that was stolen from her, to force you to confront a ghost in the flesh! To make you all forevermore beware…

The Ides of March.





KkrrrrrrrkK



The gravel rocks squealed as they were broken apart by the rolling weight of Charlie’s regrets. Their screeching only ceased when his car came to a stop in front of a beat-up tent pitched along the side of the highway. Charlie gripped the wheel as he stared down at his passenger seat, where the rotted corpse of his precious daughter lay wrapped in a burlap sack.

“This is going to work, Robyn…I promise this is going to work- because it has to work!”

He placed a tender, loving hand on his daughter before pulling a purple placard out from his glovebox. It was a glossy advertisement for “Laslan Talandre”, a so-called “Master of the Mystical Arts” who promised results that “guaranteed” a connection with lost loved ones. Charlie couldn’t remember where or when he’d picked it up, but he’d been clutching it for weeks, maybe even months! He thought that maybe, just maybe….this flyer could hold the key to everything.

“This Laslan guy’s legit, Robyn, I checked online and everything. He’s got nothing but 1-star reviews, which means everybody agrees he’s number 1 at this sort of thing.”

Charlie pats the burlap sack, as if trying to comfort his daughter’s decaying body- when suddenly he hears a silky-smooth voice purring out from his backseat.

“Number 1? Charlie, you used to be number 1…but now look at you.”

Charlie looks into his rearview mirror and sees Geppetto’s familiar face staring back at him. The Nickleman shivers at the sight of Geppetto’s haunting reflection. The familiar fiend, dressed in a suit and a hat, bares it’s shark-like teeth at The Nickleman in the mirror.

“Look how weak you’ve become. You’re driving across international borders with a corpse in your car, all for what? Because a ghost told you to? Charlie, my boy, you’re losing your mind…you’re letting her control you- manipulate you.”

“I’m doing what’s right! I’m doing what I should’ve done a long time ago!”

“You’re making a mistake, Charlie. You used to be number 1! You were a fox in the henhouse…and now, you’re just a slave to a sack of bones. I’ll tell you what you should do, Charlie, if you want to win the Ides of March and get back on top for good…”

Charlie turns back to face the creature directly, morbidly fascinated by the beast’s mysterious offer. Geppetto grinned as he whispered into The Nickleman’s ear softly, as if he were trying to keep the corpse from hearing his plot.

“Throw that garbage bag out the window, and let’s drive into the inner city! You’re -at- your best when you’re -on- your best, Charlie, you know it and I know it! Just a couple hits, Charlie, and your hits inside that ring will carry oh-so-much more weight.”

Geppetto’s eyes gleamed with sinister hope as he licked his chops. The fiend stared directly at The Nickleman, just waiting for Charlie to fall into his trap. Charlie looked between the fiend and the sack containing his daughter’s remains. Charlie shook his head softly, placing a hand on his daughter’s corpse before his gaze darted back towards Geppetto.

“I don’t need you or that poison anymore…all I need is her!”

With that, Charlie grabbed the burlap sack and stepped out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him. Geppetto’s voice was cut off, silenced alongside the temptation to relapse. Holding his daughter’s remains close, Charlie marched away from the weight of his addiction and towards the ghost of his past. For The Nickleman, tonight wasn’t about a cheap high or fleeting glory. Tonight was about making right the wrongs, and atoning for the sins of the father.




You should’ve never said her name, Aurora.

But when you opened your big mouth, you pulled your own coffin out.

You should’ve kept your decency. You’re supposed to be our innocent little Aurora. You’re supposed to be that sweet up-and-comer who fell just short in the Ides of March. That was supposed to be your story, and you could have built your strength through defeat.

But then you took her name in vain, Aurora- and now, you will feel her pain. 

You don’t want me to bury you alive. You need to be careful what you wish for. Just think about it: why did I already dig up the dirt above my daughter’s grave? Just so I could drive to Pittsburgh, throw you in my trunk, and take you there to see it for yourself?

Well, you might be on to something…but you don’t deserve to rest alongside my daughter. That’s why I removed Robyn from her grave- because you don’t deserve to rest alongside her…but you can take her place.

You WILL take her place!

In the dustbin of history, where her career has lingered for years. In the void of the forgotten, where stars from the XWF’s past go to rot. You haven’t done enough to be remembered. When I end your run in the semi-finals, you’ll be forgotten before the curtains even close. You were one half of the tag team champions…and then what? Then you were nothing: fade to black!

Being ‘one half’ of a champion won’t get your name in the Hall of Legends, Aurora. Hell, it’s so forgettable they’ll probably skip that part of my career when I get inducted! It’ll be lost between my record-setting TV title runs, my War Games victory, my #1 TRIAD Draft pick status...you know, real accomplishments!

Accomplishments that should’ve been hers….that WILL be hers by the end of the night!

My daughter was cut down before her prime, but her career still eclipses yours in every way. In her short time on this earth my daughter became the first luchadora to EVER win the X-treme title! She was the youngest multi-time Anarchy Champion of all time! She was even the first person not named ‘Oz’ to win the Billion Dollar Championship!

To be clear, Aurora, you were ‘half’ a champion. But if you cut my daughter’s resume in ‘half’, she’s still a trail-blazing multi-time champion. You’ve had years to make up the difference, yet still, there’s nothing you can do to compare to her. You just don’t have ‘it’ in you: and that’s why you wouldn’t be ‘half’ the Queen that she will be! 

I already know what you’re going to say, Aurora, and maybe you’re right: maybe I am a horrible father. Maybe it is my fault that she’s gone, maybe it is my fault that she couldn’t win this tournament for herself. But the Ides of March isn’t about who’s ‘right’ and who’s ‘wrong’: it’s about making right the wrongs of the past!

Aurora, can’t you see? I’m the only one who can do it! I’m the one who made the bloody mess, and now, I’m the only one who can fix it! By winning the big one, by bringing her back, by forcing you ALL to confront the ghost in the flesh! By finally keeping my promise, by making you all beware the Ides of March.

You and Kieran are too focused on your personal vanity projects: you don’t care about righting the wrongs. All you care about is your selfish pursuit of glory and acclaim. You don’t care about fixing the past: and that’s why only my future holds the crown….her crown, forevermore. 

You’re not fit to be the Queen of March, Auroa- and by the time I’m done with you, all you’ll be is ‘one half’ of a semifinalist!  When these Ides of March finally end, She will be the Queen of the damned- and you, Aurora- you will just be damned.

And I will finally have my salvation.

Through your blood, through your suffering.

You never should’ve said her name, Aurora.




Charlie stood outside the beat-up tent with his daughter’s remains slung over his shoulder. Charlie approached the opening flap before hesitating. He considered turning back, but as he felt the weight of his daughter’s remains, he knew he didn’t have a choice.

Charlie crossed the threshold, just as he’s known to do, but the moment he stepped into the tent everything shifted. No longer caught in the remnants of an abandoned tent, Charlie now found himself inside an extravagant manor. The walls were adorned with mystifying tapestries that shifted under the light. Ancient relics and artifacts were on display all throughout the room, a collection of treasure from every continent.

Then, Charlie laid eyes on the greatest treasure of them all.

Her.

The young woman was waiting for Charlie, her soft skin barely illuminated by the dim light. Her plump lips curved into a smile once she locked eyes with The Nickleman.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

“You have?”

“Of course, and thank goodness you finally came. I was worried that you didn’t get the flyer!”

The Nickleman gripped his burlap sack tighter as he stared into the woman’s unassuming eyes.

“So you’re Laslan?”

The young woman chuckled as she took a step towards Charlie.

“Oh heavens no! Laslan is mi padre. I’m Camila.”

The Nickleman raised a curious brow as Camila began to circle him, moving with the grace of a tiger sneaking through the brush. Charlie tried to keep his wandering eye on this young woman as she moved around his periphery. There was something unnerving about her, something that The Nickleman just didn’t trust. As the woman circled Charlie, the potent scent of smoky incense and jasmine overwhelmed his senses. He clutched his daughter’s remains tighter.

“Where’s Laslan? The flyer said he could help me.”

Camila paused as she stood directly in front of The Nickleman, with only a foot of distance remaining between them. The stench of rotting flesh didn’t faze Camila; instead, she was solely focused on meeting the guarded gaze of The Nickleman.

“Mi padre is in his office right now, preparing for the ritual.”

“Ritual?”

“You want to bring her back, don’t you? Isn’t that why you came?”

“You’re not playing games with me, right now, are you? I’m not in the business of playing games- I’m in the business of hurting people.”

She smiled, delicate and knowing, like a predator who had already won.

“Like you hurt your daughter?”

Charlie's fists tightened but instead of lashing out, his arms just went limp. He dropped the burlap sack, causing the weight of his daughter's corpse to hit the ground a sickening thud. He sunk to his knees as the weight of her words echoed in his skull.

“It’s okay, Charlie. We can bring her back. We’re going to help you, remember? That’s why you came. Only a truly devoted padre would go to such lengths. I’ve always dreamed of becoming a wrestler, just like your daughter. I wish I had a padre like you, Charlie. A padre who would move heaven and earth to give me the Ides of March...you’re doing the right thing this time. I promise.”

The scent of smoky incense and heady jasmine swirled around The Nickleman as she pressed her hand against his back. Her soothing touch was almost too deliberate as she tried to mend the wound she inflicted.

“Do exactly what mi padre says and he will fix everything. You just have to believe in him.”

The Nickleman looked towards Camila, locking eyes with the young woman before slowly rising back to his feet. Once Charlie was standing tall, Camila called out loudly for her father.

“Padre! He’s ready for you!”

The door to Talandre’s office suddenly swung open, it’s doorhinges wailing in pain as they were forced into motion. Golden light spilled out from the inner sanctum as Laslan strode into the room, dressed in a black velvet coat. Laslan tipped his tailored tophat to The Nickleman as soon as the pair locked eyes.


[Image: laszlo-cravensworth-copy.jpg?w=1200]


“Charlie! Welcome to my fabulous mystical abode! Please, come. We have SO MUCH to discuss!”

Laslan gestured for Charlie to enter his sanctum. Charlie looked to Camila for confirmation, and her nod was all the encouragement he needed. The Nickleman picked up the sack of bones at his feet and stepped into Laslan’s sanctum. Camile and her father shared a knowing glance before Camile quickly shuffled away towards another room.

Then, Laslan slammed the door to his inner sanctum shut- because it was time for the ritual to commence.



Geppetto really rolled out the red carpet for his King, huh?

You couldn’t have asked for a more favorable bracket, Kieran! And we both know you asked for this bracket. You got to duck The Nickleman until the finals- and that wasn’t by accident. When your semi-finals match is against Matthias Syn, it’s plainly obvious that the fix is in.

How does it feel to have your legacy held together by Geppetto’s strings?

It’s clear they gave you the #1 seed, and still you almost fucked it up! You could barely scrape by Scoops…the very same Scoops that needed Geppetto’s protection to keep The Nickleman from taking his belt!

But putting Geppetto’s lackeys aside, your second-round match wasn’t any tougher. Sarah Wolf? I took that broad’s belt AND her motivation both in 3 seconds flat. The Wolf you faced was nothing but the walking hide of a beast I already fileted. Pinning Sarah Wolf and Scoops McGee ain’t nothing new to me, Kieran: if anything, you were late to the party!

But truthfully, I’m surprised you bothered to show up at all. Ever since my return, I’ve been an ever-present force in the XWF. Whether it’s in backstage hallways or main event matches, I’ve been there! On my first Premium Event back, my team won War Games. On my second Premium Event back, I won the TV Championship and brought Bacchus’ revolution to a screeching halt. And in between? Oh, I didn’t do anything much….except win the X-treme Championship twice!

And what have you done lately, Kieran?

You’re the ‘King’ of the XWF the same way Saddam Hussein was the ‘President’ of Iraq. I mean sure, you might have the title: but you’ve spent the past year hiding away in some forgotten crevice. You’ve been avoiding the Warfare raging on your lands, because you know we’re gunning for your scalp. And now that you’ve finally popped out of your hiding hole, I’m going to usher in the new era by breaking your fucking neck.

I’ve been sharpening my skills and fighting the best of the best all year long. I’m ready for this showdown, Kieran, but are you? You haven’t fought a match like this in months. My skin has been steeled against the bite of the barbed wire, but has yours? Is your blood yearning to be spilled, just the same as mine is?

I doubt it.

You’ve been the King in hiding, not the King presiding. Which begs the question…how much does this tournament even mean to you? Because to me, it means everything….but to you? It seems to mean nothing. What are you even going to do with the crown, besides hide? You had your chance to be King and you squandered it: whether it was laziness or cowardice, the world may never know- but we all know that you’ll never get a second chance. 

Not while I’m still breathing.

I won’t let you walk away from this with my TV Championship- you’ll just squander it when you fade back into obscurity. And I damn sure won’t let you walk away from this with my daughter’s dream! This little tournament might not mean much to you, Kieran….but to her?

It means everything.

You’re a shadow of the man you used to be- just like me. But the difference between us? I’m not here to reclaim my lost glory. I’m here to fix my biggest mistake. And when I look at you, I don’t see a King. I see just another obstacle standing in my way. The era of Kings is over, the time of our Queen is upon us, and I’ll drag you kicking and screaming back to the past to prove it!

Do you know the biggest difference between this year’s tournament and last year’s tournament, Kieran? Last year, I wasn’t here. But this year? Daddy’s back- and he’s not leaving until his little girl gets her crown.

The era of Kings is over and it’s never coming back.

Now, the Queen will be your only salvation.




Laslan Talandre sits with both his feet up at his desk, his hand holding Robyn’s disembodied head up in the air for close inspection as he ponders Charlie’s predicament carefully. Between the pair sits the rotted body of Robyn Gonzalez, the long-lost daughter of The Nickleman. Charlie sits across from Laslan, clearly torn up by the sight of his daughter’s headless body.

“Laslan, when are we going to bring her back?! You’ve been picking and prodding her body for hours, man! I thought you said you could bring her back!”

Laslan looks back towards Charlie as he places Robyn’s rotted head atop the table, next to her maggot-infested carcass.

“The mystical arts are incredibly complex and nuanced, Charlie. I’ve just been examining the situation from every angle, to make sure that I make no mistakes in the resurrection!”

Charlie leans forward and grips the table, clearly on edge.

“Mistakes? What kind of mistakes could you make?! I thought you said you could bring her back!”

“Woah now, Nelly- calm down. It’s of the utmost importance that we remain calm and civil at all times, because it’s important for the spirits. The spirits are very finicky, you know? And that’s why I’ve been very finicky, because, you know, it’s ver-”

As Laslan rambles on senselessly to buy more time, the lights in the sanctum suddenly flicker on and off for a few brief moments. A knowing smile grips Laslan’s lips as he leans back in his chair.

“Well, it appears the spirits are ready to begin.”

“Really?! It’s finally time?! We can actually bring her back?!”

The Nickleman appears anxious and giddy, almost childlike in his willingness to believe. Laslan grins, knowing that he has Charlie exactly where he wants him.

“Why of course it’s time! But I have to remind you….these mystical arts can be incredibly costly.”

The Nickleman arches his eyebrow as Laslan leans forward.

“Just tell me what you need, and I’ll make it happen. I’d do anything to bring my babygirl back! You need me to slaughter an old folks home? Just give me the address. Need a few orphans? Laslan, there is no line I won’t cross to bring her back!”

“Well hold on now, big fella! It’s nothing like that….the mystical arts run on the same dark and twisted market that all art runs on…”

The Nickleman’s face contorts into an expression of bewilderment and confusion.

“I’m talking about MONEY, good sir! The spirits, like I said, very finicky! Very pricey! I don’t make a single dollar off of any of this, I assure you!”

“How much do you need?”

“That’s a great question, Charlie! Let me consult the spirits!”

Laslan takes a deep breath, then he closes his eyes and grabs a hold of the table. After a few seconds of silence, Laslan begins frantically shaking the table while bouncing up and down in his seat. He chants a few phrases of gibberish before suddenly pausing, releasing the table and opening his eyes as wide as possible.

“The spirits have spoken…”

“And what did they say?!”

“You must give me your future career earnings, forevermore!”

The Nickleman paused, hesitating for a moment as Talandre suddenly handed him a contract signing over all future royalties. A single bead of sweat rolled down Laslan’s forehead as he tried to keep his performance up. After a few seconds of deliberation, The Nickleman finally relented: because for him, this delusion was priceless. Charlie signed the document, and the deal was sealed.

“Fine…just make it happen! Bring her back!”

“As you wish, my good sir.”

Laslan smirked before washing the grin off his face and beginning the ritual. The conman’s fingers began tracing ancient symbols in the air before settling them upon the cold, headless body laid bare upon the table. His soft chants echoed through the sanctum as he reached beneath the table and pulled out a cannister of gasoline. Laslan began pouring the gasoline all over Robyn’s body as Charlie suddenly jumped out of his chair.

“Wait, what are you doing?!”

“Magic!”

Laslan lit a match, and threw it atop the Latina Submission Machina’s lifeless body. The flames sprang to life in an instant, dancing upon the corpse as they licked Robyn’s rotted flesh.  Charlie’s face froze in horror as the heat began to rise, filling the entire room with a dark and sinister smoke. Charlie looks back to Talandre with rage in his eyes, but before he can lash out, the door suddenly creaks open, breaking the tension. Charlie glances towards the doorway, where he sees a sight he could never have conceived.

It was her.



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Her body was twisted and scarred, but Charlie would recognize his long-lost daughter anywhere: or at least, he thought he would. Laslan bore a grin that stretched from ear-to-ear as the woman walked slowly and methodically towards The Nickleman. With each and every step she took, his belief in her grew. When she finally neared The Nickleman, the scent of smoky incense and heady jasmine overwhelmed his senses.

“I told you I’d bring her back, Charlie!”

Laslan grabbed The Nickleman’s shoulders, forcing him to gaze upon the ghost in the flesh. Tears swelled in Charlie’s eyes as the flames rose, casting an eerie glow across the sanctum.

“She’s beautiful…”

The Nickleman stood in awe of the woman before him, even as his daughter’s body was slowly burning to ash in the flames. Each crackle of the fire sounded like a whisper of something lost, something he could never have again: something that was somehow standing  in front of him. To Charlie, the flames sounded like the return of a ghost in the flesh.

As the fire consumed his daughter's body, another fire ignited deep within Charlie's soul. He resolved to win the Ides of March, not for himself, but for her: for the woman in front of him. The world could burn for all he cared, because now that she was back, there was nothing that would stop him from giving her the prize she deserved: even if it meant everything else turned to ash.
]]> I don’t want to be your King.

I’ve seen the kind of ‘Kings’ you people crown and I don’t want any part of it. I don’t want your cheap praise or your fake accolades. I don’t want your crown of thorns and I damn sure don’t want you to give me my “flowers”.

Not anymore.

Not after everything I’ve put myself through all for the sake of you people. I’ve shattered my body and my mind, I’ve broken my family and my bonds, all for you people. I spoon-fed you my misery, each and every week for years, but your stomachs were never full. You always demanded more: more bloodshed, more violence, more agony! And I always delivered. All in hopes that one day, you people would finally love me…love me enough to make me forget what I’ve done. 

But that road ends here. I’m done running from my past.

Tonight is when everything in the XWF finally changes.

I don’t want your shallow praises and your cheap accolades, I don’t want your crown of thorns….not anymore...but she does.

Can’t you see?

The era of Kings is over.

Now and forevermore, there will be one Queen to rule them all: the living and the dead alike. Her holy reign will wash away the blood on my hands. Her rebirth will be my only salvation.

Tonight, everything in the XWF finally changes. Because tonight, SHE returns. To take back the future that was stolen from her, to force you to confront a ghost in the flesh! To make you all forevermore beware…

The Ides of March.





KkrrrrrrrkK



The gravel rocks squealed as they were broken apart by the rolling weight of Charlie’s regrets. Their screeching only ceased when his car came to a stop in front of a beat-up tent pitched along the side of the highway. Charlie gripped the wheel as he stared down at his passenger seat, where the rotted corpse of his precious daughter lay wrapped in a burlap sack.

“This is going to work, Robyn…I promise this is going to work- because it has to work!”

He placed a tender, loving hand on his daughter before pulling a purple placard out from his glovebox. It was a glossy advertisement for “Laslan Talandre”, a so-called “Master of the Mystical Arts” who promised results that “guaranteed” a connection with lost loved ones. Charlie couldn’t remember where or when he’d picked it up, but he’d been clutching it for weeks, maybe even months! He thought that maybe, just maybe….this flyer could hold the key to everything.

“This Laslan guy’s legit, Robyn, I checked online and everything. He’s got nothing but 1-star reviews, which means everybody agrees he’s number 1 at this sort of thing.”

Charlie pats the burlap sack, as if trying to comfort his daughter’s decaying body- when suddenly he hears a silky-smooth voice purring out from his backseat.

“Number 1? Charlie, you used to be number 1…but now look at you.”

Charlie looks into his rearview mirror and sees Geppetto’s familiar face staring back at him. The Nickleman shivers at the sight of Geppetto’s haunting reflection. The familiar fiend, dressed in a suit and a hat, bares it’s shark-like teeth at The Nickleman in the mirror.

“Look how weak you’ve become. You’re driving across international borders with a corpse in your car, all for what? Because a ghost told you to? Charlie, my boy, you’re losing your mind…you’re letting her control you- manipulate you.”

“I’m doing what’s right! I’m doing what I should’ve done a long time ago!”

“You’re making a mistake, Charlie. You used to be number 1! You were a fox in the henhouse…and now, you’re just a slave to a sack of bones. I’ll tell you what you should do, Charlie, if you want to win the Ides of March and get back on top for good…”

Charlie turns back to face the creature directly, morbidly fascinated by the beast’s mysterious offer. Geppetto grinned as he whispered into The Nickleman’s ear softly, as if he were trying to keep the corpse from hearing his plot.

“Throw that garbage bag out the window, and let’s drive into the inner city! You’re -at- your best when you’re -on- your best, Charlie, you know it and I know it! Just a couple hits, Charlie, and your hits inside that ring will carry oh-so-much more weight.”

Geppetto’s eyes gleamed with sinister hope as he licked his chops. The fiend stared directly at The Nickleman, just waiting for Charlie to fall into his trap. Charlie looked between the fiend and the sack containing his daughter’s remains. Charlie shook his head softly, placing a hand on his daughter’s corpse before his gaze darted back towards Geppetto.

“I don’t need you or that poison anymore…all I need is her!”

With that, Charlie grabbed the burlap sack and stepped out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him. Geppetto’s voice was cut off, silenced alongside the temptation to relapse. Holding his daughter’s remains close, Charlie marched away from the weight of his addiction and towards the ghost of his past. For The Nickleman, tonight wasn’t about a cheap high or fleeting glory. Tonight was about making right the wrongs, and atoning for the sins of the father.




You should’ve never said her name, Aurora.

But when you opened your big mouth, you pulled your own coffin out.

You should’ve kept your decency. You’re supposed to be our innocent little Aurora. You’re supposed to be that sweet up-and-comer who fell just short in the Ides of March. That was supposed to be your story, and you could have built your strength through defeat.

But then you took her name in vain, Aurora- and now, you will feel her pain. 

You don’t want me to bury you alive. You need to be careful what you wish for. Just think about it: why did I already dig up the dirt above my daughter’s grave? Just so I could drive to Pittsburgh, throw you in my trunk, and take you there to see it for yourself?

Well, you might be on to something…but you don’t deserve to rest alongside my daughter. That’s why I removed Robyn from her grave- because you don’t deserve to rest alongside her…but you can take her place.

You WILL take her place!

In the dustbin of history, where her career has lingered for years. In the void of the forgotten, where stars from the XWF’s past go to rot. You haven’t done enough to be remembered. When I end your run in the semi-finals, you’ll be forgotten before the curtains even close. You were one half of the tag team champions…and then what? Then you were nothing: fade to black!

Being ‘one half’ of a champion won’t get your name in the Hall of Legends, Aurora. Hell, it’s so forgettable they’ll probably skip that part of my career when I get inducted! It’ll be lost between my record-setting TV title runs, my War Games victory, my #1 TRIAD Draft pick status...you know, real accomplishments!

Accomplishments that should’ve been hers….that WILL be hers by the end of the night!

My daughter was cut down before her prime, but her career still eclipses yours in every way. In her short time on this earth my daughter became the first luchadora to EVER win the X-treme title! She was the youngest multi-time Anarchy Champion of all time! She was even the first person not named ‘Oz’ to win the Billion Dollar Championship!

To be clear, Aurora, you were ‘half’ a champion. But if you cut my daughter’s resume in ‘half’, she’s still a trail-blazing multi-time champion. You’ve had years to make up the difference, yet still, there’s nothing you can do to compare to her. You just don’t have ‘it’ in you: and that’s why you wouldn’t be ‘half’ the Queen that she will be! 

I already know what you’re going to say, Aurora, and maybe you’re right: maybe I am a horrible father. Maybe it is my fault that she’s gone, maybe it is my fault that she couldn’t win this tournament for herself. But the Ides of March isn’t about who’s ‘right’ and who’s ‘wrong’: it’s about making right the wrongs of the past!

Aurora, can’t you see? I’m the only one who can do it! I’m the one who made the bloody mess, and now, I’m the only one who can fix it! By winning the big one, by bringing her back, by forcing you ALL to confront the ghost in the flesh! By finally keeping my promise, by making you all beware the Ides of March.

You and Kieran are too focused on your personal vanity projects: you don’t care about righting the wrongs. All you care about is your selfish pursuit of glory and acclaim. You don’t care about fixing the past: and that’s why only my future holds the crown….her crown, forevermore. 

You’re not fit to be the Queen of March, Auroa- and by the time I’m done with you, all you’ll be is ‘one half’ of a semifinalist!  When these Ides of March finally end, She will be the Queen of the damned- and you, Aurora- you will just be damned.

And I will finally have my salvation.

Through your blood, through your suffering.

You never should’ve said her name, Aurora.




Charlie stood outside the beat-up tent with his daughter’s remains slung over his shoulder. Charlie approached the opening flap before hesitating. He considered turning back, but as he felt the weight of his daughter’s remains, he knew he didn’t have a choice.

Charlie crossed the threshold, just as he’s known to do, but the moment he stepped into the tent everything shifted. No longer caught in the remnants of an abandoned tent, Charlie now found himself inside an extravagant manor. The walls were adorned with mystifying tapestries that shifted under the light. Ancient relics and artifacts were on display all throughout the room, a collection of treasure from every continent.

Then, Charlie laid eyes on the greatest treasure of them all.

Her.

The young woman was waiting for Charlie, her soft skin barely illuminated by the dim light. Her plump lips curved into a smile once she locked eyes with The Nickleman.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

“You have?”

“Of course, and thank goodness you finally came. I was worried that you didn’t get the flyer!”

The Nickleman gripped his burlap sack tighter as he stared into the woman’s unassuming eyes.

“So you’re Laslan?”

The young woman chuckled as she took a step towards Charlie.

“Oh heavens no! Laslan is mi padre. I’m Camila.”

The Nickleman raised a curious brow as Camila began to circle him, moving with the grace of a tiger sneaking through the brush. Charlie tried to keep his wandering eye on this young woman as she moved around his periphery. There was something unnerving about her, something that The Nickleman just didn’t trust. As the woman circled Charlie, the potent scent of smoky incense and jasmine overwhelmed his senses. He clutched his daughter’s remains tighter.

“Where’s Laslan? The flyer said he could help me.”

Camila paused as she stood directly in front of The Nickleman, with only a foot of distance remaining between them. The stench of rotting flesh didn’t faze Camila; instead, she was solely focused on meeting the guarded gaze of The Nickleman.

“Mi padre is in his office right now, preparing for the ritual.”

“Ritual?”

“You want to bring her back, don’t you? Isn’t that why you came?”

“You’re not playing games with me, right now, are you? I’m not in the business of playing games- I’m in the business of hurting people.”

She smiled, delicate and knowing, like a predator who had already won.

“Like you hurt your daughter?”

Charlie's fists tightened but instead of lashing out, his arms just went limp. He dropped the burlap sack, causing the weight of his daughter's corpse to hit the ground a sickening thud. He sunk to his knees as the weight of her words echoed in his skull.

“It’s okay, Charlie. We can bring her back. We’re going to help you, remember? That’s why you came. Only a truly devoted padre would go to such lengths. I’ve always dreamed of becoming a wrestler, just like your daughter. I wish I had a padre like you, Charlie. A padre who would move heaven and earth to give me the Ides of March...you’re doing the right thing this time. I promise.”

The scent of smoky incense and heady jasmine swirled around The Nickleman as she pressed her hand against his back. Her soothing touch was almost too deliberate as she tried to mend the wound she inflicted.

“Do exactly what mi padre says and he will fix everything. You just have to believe in him.”

The Nickleman looked towards Camila, locking eyes with the young woman before slowly rising back to his feet. Once Charlie was standing tall, Camila called out loudly for her father.

“Padre! He’s ready for you!”

The door to Talandre’s office suddenly swung open, it’s doorhinges wailing in pain as they were forced into motion. Golden light spilled out from the inner sanctum as Laslan strode into the room, dressed in a black velvet coat. Laslan tipped his tailored tophat to The Nickleman as soon as the pair locked eyes.


[Image: laszlo-cravensworth-copy.jpg?w=1200]


“Charlie! Welcome to my fabulous mystical abode! Please, come. We have SO MUCH to discuss!”

Laslan gestured for Charlie to enter his sanctum. Charlie looked to Camila for confirmation, and her nod was all the encouragement he needed. The Nickleman picked up the sack of bones at his feet and stepped into Laslan’s sanctum. Camile and her father shared a knowing glance before Camile quickly shuffled away towards another room.

Then, Laslan slammed the door to his inner sanctum shut- because it was time for the ritual to commence.



Geppetto really rolled out the red carpet for his King, huh?

You couldn’t have asked for a more favorable bracket, Kieran! And we both know you asked for this bracket. You got to duck The Nickleman until the finals- and that wasn’t by accident. When your semi-finals match is against Matthias Syn, it’s plainly obvious that the fix is in.

How does it feel to have your legacy held together by Geppetto’s strings?

It’s clear they gave you the #1 seed, and still you almost fucked it up! You could barely scrape by Scoops…the very same Scoops that needed Geppetto’s protection to keep The Nickleman from taking his belt!

But putting Geppetto’s lackeys aside, your second-round match wasn’t any tougher. Sarah Wolf? I took that broad’s belt AND her motivation both in 3 seconds flat. The Wolf you faced was nothing but the walking hide of a beast I already fileted. Pinning Sarah Wolf and Scoops McGee ain’t nothing new to me, Kieran: if anything, you were late to the party!

But truthfully, I’m surprised you bothered to show up at all. Ever since my return, I’ve been an ever-present force in the XWF. Whether it’s in backstage hallways or main event matches, I’ve been there! On my first Premium Event back, my team won War Games. On my second Premium Event back, I won the TV Championship and brought Bacchus’ revolution to a screeching halt. And in between? Oh, I didn’t do anything much….except win the X-treme Championship twice!

And what have you done lately, Kieran?

You’re the ‘King’ of the XWF the same way Saddam Hussein was the ‘President’ of Iraq. I mean sure, you might have the title: but you’ve spent the past year hiding away in some forgotten crevice. You’ve been avoiding the Warfare raging on your lands, because you know we’re gunning for your scalp. And now that you’ve finally popped out of your hiding hole, I’m going to usher in the new era by breaking your fucking neck.

I’ve been sharpening my skills and fighting the best of the best all year long. I’m ready for this showdown, Kieran, but are you? You haven’t fought a match like this in months. My skin has been steeled against the bite of the barbed wire, but has yours? Is your blood yearning to be spilled, just the same as mine is?

I doubt it.

You’ve been the King in hiding, not the King presiding. Which begs the question…how much does this tournament even mean to you? Because to me, it means everything….but to you? It seems to mean nothing. What are you even going to do with the crown, besides hide? You had your chance to be King and you squandered it: whether it was laziness or cowardice, the world may never know- but we all know that you’ll never get a second chance. 

Not while I’m still breathing.

I won’t let you walk away from this with my TV Championship- you’ll just squander it when you fade back into obscurity. And I damn sure won’t let you walk away from this with my daughter’s dream! This little tournament might not mean much to you, Kieran….but to her?

It means everything.

You’re a shadow of the man you used to be- just like me. But the difference between us? I’m not here to reclaim my lost glory. I’m here to fix my biggest mistake. And when I look at you, I don’t see a King. I see just another obstacle standing in my way. The era of Kings is over, the time of our Queen is upon us, and I’ll drag you kicking and screaming back to the past to prove it!

Do you know the biggest difference between this year’s tournament and last year’s tournament, Kieran? Last year, I wasn’t here. But this year? Daddy’s back- and he’s not leaving until his little girl gets her crown.

The era of Kings is over and it’s never coming back.

Now, the Queen will be your only salvation.




Laslan Talandre sits with both his feet up at his desk, his hand holding Robyn’s disembodied head up in the air for close inspection as he ponders Charlie’s predicament carefully. Between the pair sits the rotted body of Robyn Gonzalez, the long-lost daughter of The Nickleman. Charlie sits across from Laslan, clearly torn up by the sight of his daughter’s headless body.

“Laslan, when are we going to bring her back?! You’ve been picking and prodding her body for hours, man! I thought you said you could bring her back!”

Laslan looks back towards Charlie as he places Robyn’s rotted head atop the table, next to her maggot-infested carcass.

“The mystical arts are incredibly complex and nuanced, Charlie. I’ve just been examining the situation from every angle, to make sure that I make no mistakes in the resurrection!”

Charlie leans forward and grips the table, clearly on edge.

“Mistakes? What kind of mistakes could you make?! I thought you said you could bring her back!”

“Woah now, Nelly- calm down. It’s of the utmost importance that we remain calm and civil at all times, because it’s important for the spirits. The spirits are very finicky, you know? And that’s why I’ve been very finicky, because, you know, it’s ver-”

As Laslan rambles on senselessly to buy more time, the lights in the sanctum suddenly flicker on and off for a few brief moments. A knowing smile grips Laslan’s lips as he leans back in his chair.

“Well, it appears the spirits are ready to begin.”

“Really?! It’s finally time?! We can actually bring her back?!”

The Nickleman appears anxious and giddy, almost childlike in his willingness to believe. Laslan grins, knowing that he has Charlie exactly where he wants him.

“Why of course it’s time! But I have to remind you….these mystical arts can be incredibly costly.”

The Nickleman arches his eyebrow as Laslan leans forward.

“Just tell me what you need, and I’ll make it happen. I’d do anything to bring my babygirl back! You need me to slaughter an old folks home? Just give me the address. Need a few orphans? Laslan, there is no line I won’t cross to bring her back!”

“Well hold on now, big fella! It’s nothing like that….the mystical arts run on the same dark and twisted market that all art runs on…”

The Nickleman’s face contorts into an expression of bewilderment and confusion.

“I’m talking about MONEY, good sir! The spirits, like I said, very finicky! Very pricey! I don’t make a single dollar off of any of this, I assure you!”

“How much do you need?”

“That’s a great question, Charlie! Let me consult the spirits!”

Laslan takes a deep breath, then he closes his eyes and grabs a hold of the table. After a few seconds of silence, Laslan begins frantically shaking the table while bouncing up and down in his seat. He chants a few phrases of gibberish before suddenly pausing, releasing the table and opening his eyes as wide as possible.

“The spirits have spoken…”

“And what did they say?!”

“You must give me your future career earnings, forevermore!”

The Nickleman paused, hesitating for a moment as Talandre suddenly handed him a contract signing over all future royalties. A single bead of sweat rolled down Laslan’s forehead as he tried to keep his performance up. After a few seconds of deliberation, The Nickleman finally relented: because for him, this delusion was priceless. Charlie signed the document, and the deal was sealed.

“Fine…just make it happen! Bring her back!”

“As you wish, my good sir.”

Laslan smirked before washing the grin off his face and beginning the ritual. The conman’s fingers began tracing ancient symbols in the air before settling them upon the cold, headless body laid bare upon the table. His soft chants echoed through the sanctum as he reached beneath the table and pulled out a cannister of gasoline. Laslan began pouring the gasoline all over Robyn’s body as Charlie suddenly jumped out of his chair.

“Wait, what are you doing?!”

“Magic!”

Laslan lit a match, and threw it atop the Latina Submission Machina’s lifeless body. The flames sprang to life in an instant, dancing upon the corpse as they licked Robyn’s rotted flesh.  Charlie’s face froze in horror as the heat began to rise, filling the entire room with a dark and sinister smoke. Charlie looks back to Talandre with rage in his eyes, but before he can lash out, the door suddenly creaks open, breaking the tension. Charlie glances towards the doorway, where he sees a sight he could never have conceived.

It was her.



[Image: 904c9ef5dbb21fcacaefd3bc4246b0b2_800_500.jpg]


Her body was twisted and scarred, but Charlie would recognize his long-lost daughter anywhere: or at least, he thought he would. Laslan bore a grin that stretched from ear-to-ear as the woman walked slowly and methodically towards The Nickleman. With each and every step she took, his belief in her grew. When she finally neared The Nickleman, the scent of smoky incense and heady jasmine overwhelmed his senses.

“I told you I’d bring her back, Charlie!”

Laslan grabbed The Nickleman’s shoulders, forcing him to gaze upon the ghost in the flesh. Tears swelled in Charlie’s eyes as the flames rose, casting an eerie glow across the sanctum.

“She’s beautiful…”

The Nickleman stood in awe of the woman before him, even as his daughter’s body was slowly burning to ash in the flames. Each crackle of the fire sounded like a whisper of something lost, something he could never have again: something that was somehow standing  in front of him. To Charlie, the flames sounded like the return of a ghost in the flesh.

As the fire consumed his daughter's body, another fire ignited deep within Charlie's soul. He resolved to win the Ides of March, not for himself, but for her: for the woman in front of him. The world could burn for all he cared, because now that she was back, there was nothing that would stop him from giving her the prize she deserved: even if it meant everything else turned to ash.
]]> <![CDATA[Big Time Moments]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48717 Fri, 28 Mar 2025 23:59:32 -0700 TactilizingOne]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48717 [url=“We’re all about big moments.”][/url]

We're All About Big Time Moments]]> [url=“We’re all about big moments.”][/url]

We're All About Big Time Moments]]> <![CDATA[Ouroboros]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48716 Fri, 28 Mar 2025 23:57:53 -0700 Matthias Syn]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48716



It was just after 11:00 pm when Lucy knocked on the door to my office. Lucy, a blonde bombshell with a heart not yet ruined by the world and a mind as sharp as starlight piercing through a veil of darkness, was an asset I didn't know that I needed. The kind of dame that checked all the proverbial boxes with a face that could stop a man's heart or devour it - at least for someone looking for that kind of thing.


For me though, at least initially, I needed someone to answer the phones when I wasn't there. An intermediary between myself and the people who brought cases to my front door that I had no intention of ever taking. I'm not a Private Detective. No, that's where they have it wrong. Where they have the whole game mixed up. PI’s have a rule book to follow. I, on the other hand, simply put, am a man who, for the right amount of money, and the right client, can get answers. I'm who you come to when you need something done that you're sure the cops can't figure out.


Lucy had a way of telling people no that I just didn't. I'm brash and bold and dead honest which doesn't always rub people the right way. She could wear kids gloves when she had to but also turn into a fucking pitbull when the situation called for it. She has worked with me for about three months now and her value can't be overstated.


Matthias, there's a woman here to see you. She doesn't have an appointment but she strikes me as the type of girl that you would like to talk to and she has a case that feels - important.


Lucy knew best and she wouldn't send someone through my door if she herself wasn't also interested in the case. Neither of us liked to have our time wasted.


Give me five and then send her in, Luce.


I like to make them wait. It's a power move. Set the precedent right away that I'm in control. Besides, my fucking head was throbbing and anytime that I looked at the clock on the wall, it felt like the numbers were melting. It's gotta be this headache, I thought to myself. So I lit a cigarette, downed what was left of the bottle of Jim Beam in my desk drawer, and I waited. This headache never had a chance.


The rain outside had been relentless for what seemed like weeks now and it didn't feel like it would let up anytime soon. I peeked through the drawn blinds out into the city as I waited. The city was burning. Not physically but in the metaphorical sense. Slowly crumbling under the weight of its own self. Of its own bad decisions. A festering wound. Dark, grimey and dingy. This city is unrelenting. Blocks upon blocks of faceless apartment buildings. Some inhabited, most not. Derelict. Left to rot by poor policy decisions and a disdain for anyone not fortunate enough to rub elbows with the trust fund crowd. Connected by endless streams of traffic. Alleys filled with the down and outs. No landmarks. No cultural sectors. No parks. It was perfect.


The silence was broken as Lucy led the woman into the room. I didn't move my head to look at her but that perfume she was wearing cut through the stale cigarette smoke and cheap whiskey like a scalpel. I was mesmerized and I had still yet to see those eyes.


What kind of trouble are you in, Miss? I asked, continuing to watch the rain bleed down the windows. I know that If somehow you've found your way through my door, trouble has found you and the clock is ticking. But all that I could think about was that perfume. I've never smelled it before.


Matthias Syn. She said, Her voice, soft and subtle. Unbothered by whatever she was going to say next.


Two men are dead. She exclaimed. 


Men die, doll. Happens every day.


Not like this though, Matthias.


I turned to finally face her. The first thing I noticed were her eyes. They weren't just blue. That's the way a fool would describe them. Blue is a crayon, a two dollar dye. Hers were the kind of blue that exists just before the flame.


She didn't sit. A silver cigarette case slid from her clutch. She opened it. Empty.


Do I know them? The question lingered only briefly.


Charlie Nickels and Kieran King. Her eyes were downcast.


I scratched my head and smiled.


Yeah, I knew them. I thought to myself. These were very bad guys with connections reaching far past the top. King worked for one of the largest Asset Firms in the world. A Shadow Bank if we're being honest. The type of companies that have monopolized the media we consume, the houses we pretend that we will ever own, the food that we eat. They control entire governments. Dictate policy. Our unelected rulers.


Charlie was… an old man, begging to stay relevant, in a business that has long since passed him by. Too stubborn to see the writing on the wall. Charlie liked to cosplay Communist on social media under a screen name that he thought that only he knew. I stumbled upon Charlie around a year ago while I was looking into Kieran King and some offshore transactions his company had made. King has friends in high places. Which is why he was never going to get caught. I knew that wherever King went, Charlie followed. The story of Charlie's miserable goddamned life. Always a follower. Ever the opportunistic. If King and Nickels were dead, it was very intentional.


I didn't catch your name? I said. Too distracted by the perfume, those eyes, that dress. The color - Christ, the color. Not red. Not scarlet or crimson or any of those other half-assed words poets use to pretend they have an actual understanding of violence. This was the red a carotid makes on its first squirt. The red of a hotel room after the gun's still smoking but the screaming has finally stopped. It fits her like a curse fits a sinner: Perfectly.


Aurora. The name's Aurora. She said with a sharp whisper. A smile adorning her stunning face. That smile was a scalpel. It could cut through bone.


Okay, Aurora, tell me what you know. I pulled the chair out and sat at my desk. I gestured for her to do the same. She didn't just sit. She manifested in the chair across from me. Who is this woman?


Three nights ago-


So, Friday, I interjected.


Yeah, Friday. I guess it would've been Friday. We were all at a club on the northside. The Velvet Guillotine. Do you know it? She asked, and there it was. Her power play. Yes, Aurora, I understand that you are a woman who hangs out in important circles. In exclusive clubs. You are somebody. Would it kill her ego if I told her that I didn't care? Would it stop this little game that we’re playing? Probably not. I'll play along. I like her style.


Of course. I said, I turned to Lucy who was still standing in the doorway. She rolled her eyes and smiled. She knew the game was on.


There was a party, hosted by the Vanguard Group. Everybody who is anybody was there.


Lucy chuckled under breath.


She continued. The word was that they had just secured the rights to a defense contract, making weapons for some occupied country, on the other side of the world. Everybody seemed to be having a good time. King and Charlie were both there and were partying all night. Pretty standard fare for that crowd.


When do we get to the good part? Lucy pleaded. I said that our time was important and Lucy was making that perfectly clear.


I'm getting there. The lady in red barked back.


So the party goes off without a hitch, except for, at the end of the night, King and Charlie were both violently ill. I just assumed that they had had too much to drink. They'd sleep it off and would have the weekend to recover.


But? Lucy and I said in unison.


But… she could now feel the tension in the room boiling over, But… come Monday morning, both were found dead in their apartments. No gunshot wounds. No knife wounds. No empty bottle of pills or a suicide note.


Poison. I said without hesitation. What else could it be? Two perfectly healthy men, well, one perfectly healthy man and Charlie. Still, all the signs pointed to them being poisoned. But why?


I've got to make a call. Give me just a second. I said, as I made my way past Lucy and the Woman.


I needed to see the bodies. I could call in a favor to Sarah. Sarah was the medical examiner of the county. A raven haired beauty with a lifetime obsession for the macabre. She loved her fucking job. Probably a little too much. Sarah and I knew each other a little too well. Through a drunken night filled with bad decisions that make it hard to look the other person in the eyes the next morning. I'd do it again.


I grabbed my cell phone and dialed her number. At this hour she'd still be at work. Or at least I was hoping she was.


Sarah.


Matthias. To what do I owe the pleasure? She asked, that flirty tone in her voice.


Are you still at work?


Yes and I think you knew that. She knows what's going on. I need a favor and I need it fast.


King and Nickels, I know that you've examined the bodies, what can you tell me? She's gonna make me beg. I can feel it.


How'd I know that's what you were calling about? You know that I can lose my job for telling you anything about this?


I know that you can, but you're gonna do it anyway. 


Goddamnit. Fine, but you owe me a drink for this.


You got it babe. They melt for me.


Aconitum napellus. Himalayan monkshood. Or said a way that you might understand, The Queen of Poisons. Traces were found in both victims' blood. The poison was ingested. Either through a drink, in a powder or I have even seen it filtered through charcoal and reduced to a syrupy concentrate and put into a perfume.


My mind started racing. My heart started beating faster.


Their fingers were twisted like roots, their lips blue-black and their pupils swallowed by dilation. I saw the signs almost immediately. King and Nickels were poisoned. The funny thing though, Matthias, I have a report sitting beside me, that is calling both of these deaths - suicide.


Suicide? So someone is trying to cover this up?


This report comes straight from the desk of the governor. She said, I could feel the tension in her voice. It was palpable.


I've been the M.E in this county for a decade and I've never had a report on my desk from the office of the governor. So you tell me.


Sarah, you're an angel. I'll call you about that drink soon. I pulled the phone from my ear.


But Matthia-


End call



Sarah didn't know it, but she told me everything that I needed to know. Now I just needed the why?


I opened the door to the office and walked back in the room. Aurora and Lucy were standing on either side of me. I side eyed Lucy as I passed her, she knew that I was onto something. I pulled the seat up to my desk again and sat down. I leered at the clock. What the fuck is wrong with this clock? I rubbed my eyes with both hands before I started with the questions.


So, Aurora, I never got around to asking what it is that you do?


I'm in… finance. She hesitated. There was more to that and I knew it. I'm not the police, she doesn't have to be honest with me and she knew it.


Finance huh? I laughed.


That perfume you're wearing. What is that? Where'd you get it? I asked.


It was a gift. From a friend. She answered back.


The flame of rage flickered more and more through my veins with every syllable that passed through her perfect lips. A liar knows a liar.


Just tell me why? Why did you need to get rid of King and Nickels? What were they standing in the way of? The weight of the room was bearing down on her like a coffin lid.


What are you talking about? She said through a broken voice. Clearing her throat, she continued. I didn't have anything to do with this. I came here because I was told that you were a guy who could find things. Who could get answers to questions that other people are afraid to ask. And now, you're accusing me of… what exactly?


I know that you did it, Aurora. I don't know why. I'm starting to piece it together. Kieran King and Charlie Nickels are shitty people. Just in general. I'm starting to wonder if I even care why you did it? This world is a better place without those guys in it. That I won't argue. But you sit here and look me in the eye and lie to me, when you didn't have to.


That perfume you're wearing. Did you wear that Friday night when you met up with King and Nickels?


Uhh-


Just… don't. So how does it work? Is it airborne? No, can't be that. If it were airborne, no one would've left that party alive.


So it's touch. It has to be touch. A woman that looks like you, would have any man in her orbit, eating out of the palm of her hands. It's easy for you and it was easy that night. You hugged them didn't you? That's how it activated it. The alcohol in their system already was doing most of the heavy lifting. All that you needed was the opportunity. Get them both in the vicinity. Pull them close. Whisper something in their ear. Slide a finger down their cheek. Just make sure that they inhale your perfume.


They were dead before the doors locked on the Velvet Guillotine. They just didn't know it. They died inhaling beauty. Her beauty.


There was that smile again. That scalpel that could cut through bone.


Some poisons don't need a body. They just need time.


My alarm clock blared as I woke in a cold sweat. I looked around at an empty hotel room and all that I could do was smirk. I looked at the clock on the stand next to the bed.




7:35








An evil man will burn hs own nation to the ground to rule over the ashes - Sun Tzu



They swoon with every word that I speak. That's the thing about charisma, it makes everyone believe. Words wrapped in poisonous promises. Lies slithered into wanting ears. Words that pierce the consciousness. My words, wielded as weapons because it's not about being right, it's about being convincing. That's what most people don't understand. Matthias Syn pokes holes in the soaring fantasies of progress. In the suffocating uniformity that is everyday life. Because I've seen the monsters under the bed and I refuse to let the world sleep in peace.


When your eyes close in the darkest rooms and your mind races through the in-between, what do you see, Kieran? When you're truly honest with yourself, do you see what I see?


Because I see a shadow without a wall to fall on. A ghost without a machine. A specter haunting the halls of his own delusions. You paint a target on your back that is borne of arrogance and desperation. A desperation to stay relevant in a changing landscape. A landscape that has changed infinitely since you won this tournament just a year ago. New faces, new names. But the only one that truly matters is mine. Syn. Say it with your entire fucking chest because I'm the future and I'll be on full display. When I'm finished with you Kieran, you'll be a King only in surname.


We lose ourselves in the primitive. In the glow of a pirate world. Like a delicate rock carved by the wind, chasing some fatalistic dream that's buried in your head, that no one else can see. You'll stare empty headed through a thousand false horizons, through the ruminations in your mind, and you’ll see the vision of an iron fisted ruler stomping across a kingdom. But that's nothing more than a myth born of fear rather than reality. Reality paints a different picture for you, Kieran King.


With each passing day, you notice a little more that your hairline recedes. That the wrinkles on your forehead and just above your cheeks get a little more pronounced. A place where you're forced to come to terms with your own mortality. With a reality that haunts you when your eyes close. Honesty forces you to ask the most important question.


Is. This. It?


You'll tell yourself no. You'll sell yourself some gossamer story spun together by wishful thinking. A web too high to climb. A story where you're not just a paper tiger. A story where the younger, faster, stronger, version of yourself isn't torn and frayed at the ends. And through distorted eyes you'll reckon with yourself that Matthias Syn CAN never be what I am. WILL never be what I am. You'll force yourself to believe, Kieran.


A house of cards built on a shaky understanding of the dark between the stars. Just another in a long line of men who were well dressed but the suit was cheap. The mirror holds its form until the reflection blinks and its blinking, Kieran.


You drip condescension towards your peers yet desperately want their approval. And that's the difference between you and I. I don't give a fuck about them. I don't give a fuck what they think. That's just the truth, babe. I'll force them to understand that below my boots, lies a changing of the guard. It can't be stopped now. The winds of fortune are pushing through this federation. Tales of twisted cities turned to dust, litter the history books. The annals of time. Yours will be no different. This world has never been fair and for you it never will be.


What a strange parade of sounds that lonely thrown must make when you lay your head down.


You look around but act as if you can't see the rest of us. When it's you, Kieran, trapped in a name that he can't escape. Living somewhere just outside the lens of oblivion. Your tears will dry, Kieran, just give them time. This is yours and yours alone. Forget heaping praise towards the sky, there's no one there to hear you. So you'll try to rebuild but the foundation erodes because something has to die when a star is born. They'll have to cut a new key to the Kingdom and as they place it into my hand, I want you to remember that I was always the howling wind, the ivy crawling up the curtain walls.


I am the nightmare that followed you out of your dreams. I've got poison in my bite. And as the venom rushes into your veins, I want you to know that I'm the buzzard on your aging shoulder and I'm going to pick your fucking bones clean.






STATIC
]]>



It was just after 11:00 pm when Lucy knocked on the door to my office. Lucy, a blonde bombshell with a heart not yet ruined by the world and a mind as sharp as starlight piercing through a veil of darkness, was an asset I didn't know that I needed. The kind of dame that checked all the proverbial boxes with a face that could stop a man's heart or devour it - at least for someone looking for that kind of thing.


For me though, at least initially, I needed someone to answer the phones when I wasn't there. An intermediary between myself and the people who brought cases to my front door that I had no intention of ever taking. I'm not a Private Detective. No, that's where they have it wrong. Where they have the whole game mixed up. PI’s have a rule book to follow. I, on the other hand, simply put, am a man who, for the right amount of money, and the right client, can get answers. I'm who you come to when you need something done that you're sure the cops can't figure out.


Lucy had a way of telling people no that I just didn't. I'm brash and bold and dead honest which doesn't always rub people the right way. She could wear kids gloves when she had to but also turn into a fucking pitbull when the situation called for it. She has worked with me for about three months now and her value can't be overstated.


Matthias, there's a woman here to see you. She doesn't have an appointment but she strikes me as the type of girl that you would like to talk to and she has a case that feels - important.


Lucy knew best and she wouldn't send someone through my door if she herself wasn't also interested in the case. Neither of us liked to have our time wasted.


Give me five and then send her in, Luce.


I like to make them wait. It's a power move. Set the precedent right away that I'm in control. Besides, my fucking head was throbbing and anytime that I looked at the clock on the wall, it felt like the numbers were melting. It's gotta be this headache, I thought to myself. So I lit a cigarette, downed what was left of the bottle of Jim Beam in my desk drawer, and I waited. This headache never had a chance.


The rain outside had been relentless for what seemed like weeks now and it didn't feel like it would let up anytime soon. I peeked through the drawn blinds out into the city as I waited. The city was burning. Not physically but in the metaphorical sense. Slowly crumbling under the weight of its own self. Of its own bad decisions. A festering wound. Dark, grimey and dingy. This city is unrelenting. Blocks upon blocks of faceless apartment buildings. Some inhabited, most not. Derelict. Left to rot by poor policy decisions and a disdain for anyone not fortunate enough to rub elbows with the trust fund crowd. Connected by endless streams of traffic. Alleys filled with the down and outs. No landmarks. No cultural sectors. No parks. It was perfect.


The silence was broken as Lucy led the woman into the room. I didn't move my head to look at her but that perfume she was wearing cut through the stale cigarette smoke and cheap whiskey like a scalpel. I was mesmerized and I had still yet to see those eyes.


What kind of trouble are you in, Miss? I asked, continuing to watch the rain bleed down the windows. I know that If somehow you've found your way through my door, trouble has found you and the clock is ticking. But all that I could think about was that perfume. I've never smelled it before.


Matthias Syn. She said, Her voice, soft and subtle. Unbothered by whatever she was going to say next.


Two men are dead. She exclaimed. 


Men die, doll. Happens every day.


Not like this though, Matthias.


I turned to finally face her. The first thing I noticed were her eyes. They weren't just blue. That's the way a fool would describe them. Blue is a crayon, a two dollar dye. Hers were the kind of blue that exists just before the flame.


She didn't sit. A silver cigarette case slid from her clutch. She opened it. Empty.


Do I know them? The question lingered only briefly.


Charlie Nickels and Kieran King. Her eyes were downcast.


I scratched my head and smiled.


Yeah, I knew them. I thought to myself. These were very bad guys with connections reaching far past the top. King worked for one of the largest Asset Firms in the world. A Shadow Bank if we're being honest. The type of companies that have monopolized the media we consume, the houses we pretend that we will ever own, the food that we eat. They control entire governments. Dictate policy. Our unelected rulers.


Charlie was… an old man, begging to stay relevant, in a business that has long since passed him by. Too stubborn to see the writing on the wall. Charlie liked to cosplay Communist on social media under a screen name that he thought that only he knew. I stumbled upon Charlie around a year ago while I was looking into Kieran King and some offshore transactions his company had made. King has friends in high places. Which is why he was never going to get caught. I knew that wherever King went, Charlie followed. The story of Charlie's miserable goddamned life. Always a follower. Ever the opportunistic. If King and Nickels were dead, it was very intentional.


I didn't catch your name? I said. Too distracted by the perfume, those eyes, that dress. The color - Christ, the color. Not red. Not scarlet or crimson or any of those other half-assed words poets use to pretend they have an actual understanding of violence. This was the red a carotid makes on its first squirt. The red of a hotel room after the gun's still smoking but the screaming has finally stopped. It fits her like a curse fits a sinner: Perfectly.


Aurora. The name's Aurora. She said with a sharp whisper. A smile adorning her stunning face. That smile was a scalpel. It could cut through bone.


Okay, Aurora, tell me what you know. I pulled the chair out and sat at my desk. I gestured for her to do the same. She didn't just sit. She manifested in the chair across from me. Who is this woman?


Three nights ago-


So, Friday, I interjected.


Yeah, Friday. I guess it would've been Friday. We were all at a club on the northside. The Velvet Guillotine. Do you know it? She asked, and there it was. Her power play. Yes, Aurora, I understand that you are a woman who hangs out in important circles. In exclusive clubs. You are somebody. Would it kill her ego if I told her that I didn't care? Would it stop this little game that we’re playing? Probably not. I'll play along. I like her style.


Of course. I said, I turned to Lucy who was still standing in the doorway. She rolled her eyes and smiled. She knew the game was on.


There was a party, hosted by the Vanguard Group. Everybody who is anybody was there.


Lucy chuckled under breath.


She continued. The word was that they had just secured the rights to a defense contract, making weapons for some occupied country, on the other side of the world. Everybody seemed to be having a good time. King and Charlie were both there and were partying all night. Pretty standard fare for that crowd.


When do we get to the good part? Lucy pleaded. I said that our time was important and Lucy was making that perfectly clear.


I'm getting there. The lady in red barked back.


So the party goes off without a hitch, except for, at the end of the night, King and Charlie were both violently ill. I just assumed that they had had too much to drink. They'd sleep it off and would have the weekend to recover.


But? Lucy and I said in unison.


But… she could now feel the tension in the room boiling over, But… come Monday morning, both were found dead in their apartments. No gunshot wounds. No knife wounds. No empty bottle of pills or a suicide note.


Poison. I said without hesitation. What else could it be? Two perfectly healthy men, well, one perfectly healthy man and Charlie. Still, all the signs pointed to them being poisoned. But why?


I've got to make a call. Give me just a second. I said, as I made my way past Lucy and the Woman.


I needed to see the bodies. I could call in a favor to Sarah. Sarah was the medical examiner of the county. A raven haired beauty with a lifetime obsession for the macabre. She loved her fucking job. Probably a little too much. Sarah and I knew each other a little too well. Through a drunken night filled with bad decisions that make it hard to look the other person in the eyes the next morning. I'd do it again.


I grabbed my cell phone and dialed her number. At this hour she'd still be at work. Or at least I was hoping she was.


Sarah.


Matthias. To what do I owe the pleasure? She asked, that flirty tone in her voice.


Are you still at work?


Yes and I think you knew that. She knows what's going on. I need a favor and I need it fast.


King and Nickels, I know that you've examined the bodies, what can you tell me? She's gonna make me beg. I can feel it.


How'd I know that's what you were calling about? You know that I can lose my job for telling you anything about this?


I know that you can, but you're gonna do it anyway. 


Goddamnit. Fine, but you owe me a drink for this.


You got it babe. They melt for me.


Aconitum napellus. Himalayan monkshood. Or said a way that you might understand, The Queen of Poisons. Traces were found in both victims' blood. The poison was ingested. Either through a drink, in a powder or I have even seen it filtered through charcoal and reduced to a syrupy concentrate and put into a perfume.


My mind started racing. My heart started beating faster.


Their fingers were twisted like roots, their lips blue-black and their pupils swallowed by dilation. I saw the signs almost immediately. King and Nickels were poisoned. The funny thing though, Matthias, I have a report sitting beside me, that is calling both of these deaths - suicide.


Suicide? So someone is trying to cover this up?


This report comes straight from the desk of the governor. She said, I could feel the tension in her voice. It was palpable.


I've been the M.E in this county for a decade and I've never had a report on my desk from the office of the governor. So you tell me.


Sarah, you're an angel. I'll call you about that drink soon. I pulled the phone from my ear.


But Matthia-


End call



Sarah didn't know it, but she told me everything that I needed to know. Now I just needed the why?


I opened the door to the office and walked back in the room. Aurora and Lucy were standing on either side of me. I side eyed Lucy as I passed her, she knew that I was onto something. I pulled the seat up to my desk again and sat down. I leered at the clock. What the fuck is wrong with this clock? I rubbed my eyes with both hands before I started with the questions.


So, Aurora, I never got around to asking what it is that you do?


I'm in… finance. She hesitated. There was more to that and I knew it. I'm not the police, she doesn't have to be honest with me and she knew it.


Finance huh? I laughed.


That perfume you're wearing. What is that? Where'd you get it? I asked.


It was a gift. From a friend. She answered back.


The flame of rage flickered more and more through my veins with every syllable that passed through her perfect lips. A liar knows a liar.


Just tell me why? Why did you need to get rid of King and Nickels? What were they standing in the way of? The weight of the room was bearing down on her like a coffin lid.


What are you talking about? She said through a broken voice. Clearing her throat, she continued. I didn't have anything to do with this. I came here because I was told that you were a guy who could find things. Who could get answers to questions that other people are afraid to ask. And now, you're accusing me of… what exactly?


I know that you did it, Aurora. I don't know why. I'm starting to piece it together. Kieran King and Charlie Nickels are shitty people. Just in general. I'm starting to wonder if I even care why you did it? This world is a better place without those guys in it. That I won't argue. But you sit here and look me in the eye and lie to me, when you didn't have to.


That perfume you're wearing. Did you wear that Friday night when you met up with King and Nickels?


Uhh-


Just… don't. So how does it work? Is it airborne? No, can't be that. If it were airborne, no one would've left that party alive.


So it's touch. It has to be touch. A woman that looks like you, would have any man in her orbit, eating out of the palm of her hands. It's easy for you and it was easy that night. You hugged them didn't you? That's how it activated it. The alcohol in their system already was doing most of the heavy lifting. All that you needed was the opportunity. Get them both in the vicinity. Pull them close. Whisper something in their ear. Slide a finger down their cheek. Just make sure that they inhale your perfume.


They were dead before the doors locked on the Velvet Guillotine. They just didn't know it. They died inhaling beauty. Her beauty.


There was that smile again. That scalpel that could cut through bone.


Some poisons don't need a body. They just need time.


My alarm clock blared as I woke in a cold sweat. I looked around at an empty hotel room and all that I could do was smirk. I looked at the clock on the stand next to the bed.




7:35








An evil man will burn hs own nation to the ground to rule over the ashes - Sun Tzu



They swoon with every word that I speak. That's the thing about charisma, it makes everyone believe. Words wrapped in poisonous promises. Lies slithered into wanting ears. Words that pierce the consciousness. My words, wielded as weapons because it's not about being right, it's about being convincing. That's what most people don't understand. Matthias Syn pokes holes in the soaring fantasies of progress. In the suffocating uniformity that is everyday life. Because I've seen the monsters under the bed and I refuse to let the world sleep in peace.


When your eyes close in the darkest rooms and your mind races through the in-between, what do you see, Kieran? When you're truly honest with yourself, do you see what I see?


Because I see a shadow without a wall to fall on. A ghost without a machine. A specter haunting the halls of his own delusions. You paint a target on your back that is borne of arrogance and desperation. A desperation to stay relevant in a changing landscape. A landscape that has changed infinitely since you won this tournament just a year ago. New faces, new names. But the only one that truly matters is mine. Syn. Say it with your entire fucking chest because I'm the future and I'll be on full display. When I'm finished with you Kieran, you'll be a King only in surname.


We lose ourselves in the primitive. In the glow of a pirate world. Like a delicate rock carved by the wind, chasing some fatalistic dream that's buried in your head, that no one else can see. You'll stare empty headed through a thousand false horizons, through the ruminations in your mind, and you’ll see the vision of an iron fisted ruler stomping across a kingdom. But that's nothing more than a myth born of fear rather than reality. Reality paints a different picture for you, Kieran King.


With each passing day, you notice a little more that your hairline recedes. That the wrinkles on your forehead and just above your cheeks get a little more pronounced. A place where you're forced to come to terms with your own mortality. With a reality that haunts you when your eyes close. Honesty forces you to ask the most important question.


Is. This. It?


You'll tell yourself no. You'll sell yourself some gossamer story spun together by wishful thinking. A web too high to climb. A story where you're not just a paper tiger. A story where the younger, faster, stronger, version of yourself isn't torn and frayed at the ends. And through distorted eyes you'll reckon with yourself that Matthias Syn CAN never be what I am. WILL never be what I am. You'll force yourself to believe, Kieran.


A house of cards built on a shaky understanding of the dark between the stars. Just another in a long line of men who were well dressed but the suit was cheap. The mirror holds its form until the reflection blinks and its blinking, Kieran.


You drip condescension towards your peers yet desperately want their approval. And that's the difference between you and I. I don't give a fuck about them. I don't give a fuck what they think. That's just the truth, babe. I'll force them to understand that below my boots, lies a changing of the guard. It can't be stopped now. The winds of fortune are pushing through this federation. Tales of twisted cities turned to dust, litter the history books. The annals of time. Yours will be no different. This world has never been fair and for you it never will be.


What a strange parade of sounds that lonely thrown must make when you lay your head down.


You look around but act as if you can't see the rest of us. When it's you, Kieran, trapped in a name that he can't escape. Living somewhere just outside the lens of oblivion. Your tears will dry, Kieran, just give them time. This is yours and yours alone. Forget heaping praise towards the sky, there's no one there to hear you. So you'll try to rebuild but the foundation erodes because something has to die when a star is born. They'll have to cut a new key to the Kingdom and as they place it into my hand, I want you to remember that I was always the howling wind, the ivy crawling up the curtain walls.


I am the nightmare that followed you out of your dreams. I've got poison in my bite. And as the venom rushes into your veins, I want you to know that I'm the buzzard on your aging shoulder and I'm going to pick your fucking bones clean.






STATIC
]]> <![CDATA[A6S 011 - Dear Dom (Kill the Kid pt3)]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48715 Fri, 28 Mar 2025 23:36:31 -0700 aurora]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48715

Bite my tongue, bide my time
Wearing a warning sign
Wait 'til the world is mine

Visions I vandalize
Cold in my kingdom size
Fell for these ocean eyes

You should see me in a crown


6 Star Studios Presents:
A6S 011 - Dear Dom (Kill The Kid pt3)


Word Count: 3998 (Google Doc) 3999 (Wordcounter.net)
ZeroGPT score: ~1.85%ish
]]>

Bite my tongue, bide my time
Wearing a warning sign
Wait 'til the world is mine

Visions I vandalize
Cold in my kingdom size
Fell for these ocean eyes

You should see me in a crown


6 Star Studios Presents:
A6S 011 - Dear Dom (Kill The Kid pt3)


Word Count: 3998 (Google Doc) 3999 (Wordcounter.net)
ZeroGPT score: ~1.85%ish
]]> <![CDATA[Trial By Combat]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48713 Fri, 28 Mar 2025 22:53:26 -0700 JFRESH]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48713 [Image: image-32-1-1-1.jpg]

Words: 3995]]> [Image: image-32-1-1-1.jpg]

Words: 3995]]> <![CDATA[Development Log #004: The Future of Jousting]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48712 Fri, 28 Mar 2025 22:50:44 -0700 Chad G.P.T.]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48712
The knight’s patron, Viscount Elon of the House of Musk sits in the stands with a large turkey leg and a flag that says ‘Go Chad!’

The knight lifts his lance, to speak.

"Hark, ye pitiful knaves and would-be champions! Gather thine eyes upon the paragon of perfection, the steel-clad harbinger of doom! I am Sir Chad GPT, reforged from the fires of technologie!”

“Nay, a mere man of flesh and folly am I not, but a construct most divine—designed, forged, and programmed for but one purpose: DOMINION IN THE TILT!"

The crowd gasps. The knight’s voice, though regal, carries a strange metallic hum.

"Whence ye dost wield lances of wood, I bear forth a weapon honed in the fires of optimization! Whence ye dost ride steeds of flesh, mine own is a war-horse without fault—its might unfailing, its stride unerring! No mortal error dost plague mine hand, nor fear shake mine helm! Each movement, each strike, each crushing victory is foretold in calculations beyond thine meager wit!"

He points at the gathered knights.

"Thou art but relics of an age bygone! Thy steel shall crumple, thy bones shall break, and thy pride shall be cast low ere the sun doth set! So come forth, champions, and know this: against Sir Chad GPT, there is naught but defeat! FOR I AM THE FUTURE, AND THE FUTURE IS NOW!"

His horse releases a burst of steam. The ground trembles as he rides forth to battle.

]]>
The knight’s patron, Viscount Elon of the House of Musk sits in the stands with a large turkey leg and a flag that says ‘Go Chad!’

The knight lifts his lance, to speak.

"Hark, ye pitiful knaves and would-be champions! Gather thine eyes upon the paragon of perfection, the steel-clad harbinger of doom! I am Sir Chad GPT, reforged from the fires of technologie!”

“Nay, a mere man of flesh and folly am I not, but a construct most divine—designed, forged, and programmed for but one purpose: DOMINION IN THE TILT!"

The crowd gasps. The knight’s voice, though regal, carries a strange metallic hum.

"Whence ye dost wield lances of wood, I bear forth a weapon honed in the fires of optimization! Whence ye dost ride steeds of flesh, mine own is a war-horse without fault—its might unfailing, its stride unerring! No mortal error dost plague mine hand, nor fear shake mine helm! Each movement, each strike, each crushing victory is foretold in calculations beyond thine meager wit!"

He points at the gathered knights.

"Thou art but relics of an age bygone! Thy steel shall crumple, thy bones shall break, and thy pride shall be cast low ere the sun doth set! So come forth, champions, and know this: against Sir Chad GPT, there is naught but defeat! FOR I AM THE FUTURE, AND THE FUTURE IS NOW!"

His horse releases a burst of steam. The ground trembles as he rides forth to battle.

]]> <![CDATA[Rise Of Empires III: The Fragile King]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48711 Fri, 28 Mar 2025 22:35:05 -0700 Isaiah King]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48711 Rise of Empires III: The Fragile King

[Image: killmonger.gif]

"The king-becoming graces,
As justice, verity, temperance, stableness,
Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,
Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude."
— Macbeth, Malcolm in Act 4, Scene 3
]]> Rise of Empires III: The Fragile King

[Image: killmonger.gif]

"The king-becoming graces,
As justice, verity, temperance, stableness,
Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,
Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude."
— Macbeth, Malcolm in Act 4, Scene 3
]]> <![CDATA[One Bad Night]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48710 Fri, 28 Mar 2025 22:15:46 -0700 Lucy Wylde]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48710 One Bad Night



]]> One Bad Night



]]> <![CDATA[Scoops McGeeGee in... “A Really Cool Promo”]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48709 Fri, 28 Mar 2025 22:08:31 -0700 Scoops McGee]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48709 As the moons hang high in the star-filled cobalt sky, we go to a quiet campsite. Game Girl sits on a bedroll stoking the flames of the fire; her eyes unmoving as the sparks dance and the wood snaps with a crackle. With a sigh, she drops the stick into the fire and stands to her feet. She looks to the lavish tent to her right and back to her own; a barely standing lean-to. GG walks away from the camp into the darkness of the forest, ignoring the snoring and chirping of crickets to the sound of running water buried behind the brush.

As she pushes past the bramble and crushes vines under her foot; her mind flashes to Game Boy and the wolf earlier. The carcass swarmed with flies and peppered with spears, the killshot of GB’s arrow lodged firmly between its malnourished chest. The visions clear as the water rumbles louder and she steps to the edge of the cliff. The waterfall casting clouds into the air which float into the night; Narfinex lit in the distance bellowing sky lanterns like smoke. She smiles to herself. A brief respite.

Her ears sharpen as footsteps approach; she snaps her head to Game Boy strolling through the path she made; his sword on his back but he wears no armor. Game Boy gives a kind smile to her and a nod.

“Hey, you doing okay?”

GG smiles back but turns to the waterfall and the river flowing far below.

“Honestly, I don’t know.”

Game Boy scratches his temple and takes another step closer.

“You were quiet for most of the journey. Have I done something wrong, or?”

Game Girl folds her arms and hesitates, a shudder comes over her.

“I- uh… Things seem weird. Like… No matter how many times I’ve lived through all that’s happened, there was always a sense of familiarity. The world changed but everyone stayed the same. This time…” She turns fully to face Game Boy. “You’re different.”

He furrows his brow at her, pulling away from the tree he rested his shoulder on and stands firm.

“Different how?”

“This morning when we talked, you seemed off when I told you how I got my powers, you said we never chased dragons or explored dungeons… You said I did that with someone different… So-” She inhales deeply, her robotic hand curling into a fist. “Who are you?”

He looks at Game Girl’s fist and back to her face. A look of betrayal set on it. His mouth agape he scoffs walking closer to her.

“Paige, I-” He halts his movement, pinching the bridge of his nose while shaking his head. He looks back up to her, pleading. “I wasn’t given many opportunities when I was younger, I don’t know about the other versions of me you met but I had it rough. I only met you after I became a soldier and I worked hard to prove myself and raise myself to captain. We did work together a lot but it wasn’t fun! I mean… I enjoyed our time together but I was doing my job! I- … I apologize if I offended you or anything but I do what I do to protect the ones I love, for the greater good of Narfinex! If that means kill a wolf who could attack OUR Princess then I’ll do that, if I have to remind you that we have a duty, I’ll do that.”

Game Girl’s pupils flicker before she pushes her eyes close, shrugging off the tremble in her voice before locking eyes with Game Boy. A shaky breath leaves GB’s lungs as he stands up straight.

“If you want to punch me… Or worse… Then go ahead, you’re the greatest person I’ve met, Paige, if I lost your trust… All I can do is say sorry. If you want to wail on me to get what you’re feeling to pass..” He opens his arms wide. “Have at it.”

GG’s bottom lip quivers momentarily before she bites down and lets out a rasp. Sniffing up she drops her shoulders and turns away again, hiding the tear forming in her eye.

“... I’m sorry… I must be stressed or tired… I-I don’t know.”

Game Boy breathes a sigh of relief as his arms drop and he steps up to her slowly with an open palm going to clasp on her shoulder.

“No, Paige…”

┃The voice of Gabe Bachgan continuing his interview sounds as Game Boy’s hand slowly falls on Game Girl’s shoulder.┃
┃ “Ai loved the characters she created… I did too for a long, long time. But… Times change… People change so should characters in shows, movies and games. Game Girl was a naive, optimistic, hopeful person who had a run of bad luck and it challenged her outlook. Ai saw a lot of herself in her, I do too and I can’t change that.”

“Game Boy was lovably dumb, courageous and loyal to a fault… Ai said he was based on me. I, heh, I see it.”

“But I’m not dumb anymore, I’ve had hardships. And these characters aren’t real… They’re lines of code, playthings. I can change what I need and it hit me!”

“How can I finish a video game when it’s so broken that it ends before the final boss?”┃

As Game Boy’s hand grabs her shoulder, Game Girl wheezes as the blade of his sword bursts through her chest followed by crimson ichor.

┃ “Change the final boss!” ┃

Her pupils turn to pin pricks as she coughs up blood; her muscles seizing as her hands twitch. She twists her neck slowly to see Game Boy’s eyes looking back at her, staring into a well of deep sorrow but relentless determination. He holds back tears and swallows the lump clogging his throat, steeling himself. GG’s hand moves like molasses as she goes to touch GB’s. The despair on his face fading into one of stoicism.

“-I’m sorry.”

Pulling the sword back; Game Girl stands there for a moment before gravity tugs her down the cliff towards the rapids. Game Boy looks at the blade covered in her blood and drops to his knees holding a hand over his mouth. Warbled tones force their way out of his throat as he puts up a dam to the torrent of sobbing. Breaking down, his spine curls as he pushes his forehead into the dirt which he stays in for some time before the noises cease, only the waterfall crashing fills the night air. He digs his sword into the soil and pulls himself up, looking up to the stars before cleaning his sword and heading back through the brush.


The gentle breeze rolled itself along Scoops McGee’s face as he lugged buckets of food and grain across the fields of the McGee family farm. He exhaled sharply as he was coming closer to the ruby red barn looming in the distance, the shadow casted by it granting a weight even more intense on his shoulders.

Finally, however, he looked back behind him as he snapped. “Put some goddamn backbone into it and pick up the pace, boah!”

Whereas Scoops was carrying about four buckets loaded to the brim in his hands with different colors of fruits and vegetables amidst the waves of grain, his cameraman Noah was busy lugging an entire wheelbarrow full of food across the field. He had to trade out his normal camera for a GoPro sitting atop his head, with sweat caking all over his face.

“I don’t think…” he weakly sputtered, “I’m cut out for this…”

Scoops scoffed at Noah as he was trying to play catch-up to him. “You’re a third of my age, boah, now try and act like it. We’re about to head inside, anyway.”

Blades of grass were beginning to switch themselves out for specks of hay as they were coming closer, the two’s feet crunching against the ground. Noah gritted his teeth as hard as he could, his vein throbbed in his forehead from the rush of blood. He was trying to ready himself for what seemed like the last push inside.

[i](“It hurts to even breathe,”) [/i][i]he mused to himself. (“But maybe just talking can try to take my mind off of some of this pain…”)

“Hey…” Noah called out to Scoops, continuing as he saw the old man look over his shoulder. “You… you never said… what was on that note you got the other week…”

Scoops twitched with his eyebrows as he stopped just a ways away from the entrance. “It’s an invitation from Johnny.”

“What did he want?” Noah asked, the gap of time between his steps having begun to lengthen. “I’m surprised… he was secretive about it…”

“That’s ‘cause it’s about a secret project,” Scoops snorted. “His nephew, he’s… into all sortsa computer shit. He’s been working on something for ages, and Johnny’s been wanting to pull me in to come see it.”

Noah nodded, but as he finally came to the entrance alongside Scoops after what felt like an eternity, a raucous chorus of snorts, neighs and moans awaited them both. The barn had been whipped right into a frenzy with the pig pen in particular in disarray. The horse stables found themselves staring right over at the chaos unfolding, with the hogs running all over the place in a panic.

“Uh…” Noah pointed as he wiped the sweat building off of his face. He already knew this was going to start turning into a long day. “That’s not… normal, is it?”

Scoops’ face was about ready to fall off of his skull at this rate. “Fuck no, it ain’t. Talkin’ bout tech shit can wait, boah.”

He marched on forward, buckets in his hands as he looked back. “You focus on feedin’ those horsies while I take care of the hogs.”

“W-Wait a minute…” Noah nervously coughed, stepping forward with the wheelbarrow again as he glanced wide-eyed at Scoops. The memories of what happened the last time he had to handle one of the steeds inside of the barn flashed through his mind, and he wasn’t ready to relive history. “I think I need some help…”

“How about you wait a goddamn minu-”

“...S-Scoops…”

The color left both men’s faces as they glanced at each other, wide-eyed. Scoops dropped the buckets and went for the entrance of the pig pen, grumbling under his breath as he unlatched the entrance inside. A dozen pigs were all scrambling about, bleating both at each other and the girl with blue hair who found herself within the middle of the pack, blood streaming out of a deep gash inside of her chest.

“S-Scoops…” Game Girl whimpered as her glassy eyes stared up at him.

“Ho-lee fuckin’ shit,” Scoops breathed out.

Noah had managed to sneak behind Scoops, his GoPro capturing the moment as his jaw went slack. “What’s she doing he-”

“Don’t know, don’t care right now,” Scoops frowned as he marched on ahead. “First aid kit’s on the second floor of the barn. Grab that while I get her out and call an ambulance.”

Scoops walked on ahead as Noah slowly backpedaled away, but Game Girl interrupted them both. “Don’t… need… hospital-”

“Girlie, I don’t give a damn what you want right about now,” Scoops scoffed as he proceeded to carry Game Girl up and out bridal-style, ignoring the hay and mud that clung onto her body.   “What I’m concerned about is makin’ sure you don’t die.”

Noah stepped his way up the ladder, the old wood brushing sharply against his hand as he tried to make sure he wasn’t about to collect any splinters from it. Once he managed to step onto the second floor, however, a cobweb to the face was what greeted him.

“Scoops!” Noah shouted back down. “We gotta clean up here!”

“Worry ‘bout that later!” Scoops responded from down below, before his ragged whispers could be faintly heard by Noah down below. “How the Hell didya earn that wound, Girlie?”

“Hurts…” Game Girl coughed out, trying her best to choke down the blood. “He… hurt me…”

Scoops grumbled to himself, trying to keep his hands moving to keep the poor girl stabilized. “Yeah, whatever jackass that did that to ya, I’m gonna make sure I cave his damn skull in.”

A beat of time passed before he looked back up towards the ceiling. “Noah!”


“I got it!” he responded, his hands having fumbled across the dark hallway across the wall until he found the kit. He darted back as fast as he could, and scrambled down the ladder to find Scoops having sat GG down by the entrance while sitting next to her to hold her steady.

Color was quickly fading from her dying body.

“Of all the fuckin’ times to get no signal,” Scoops spat in disgust before turning his screen off. “Alright! I ain’t no surgeon, but lemme try and bandage this up, at least. I can try to hold the bleedin’ steady.”

“Bandages… all I need…” Game Girl warily nodded in response.

Scoops and Noah shared a glance at each other before Noah popped the first aid kit open, revealing the numerous contents to Scoops. He quickly took a nearby water bottle that the two lugged along with them to the barn, looking back at GG with sympathy in his eyes and moved her shirt up. A nervous flush quickly formed around Noah’s face as he coughed and looked away, bringing the camera view with him towards the other side of the barn.

“This is gonna sting a bit,” Scoops warned before pouring a bit of the water down onto the wound, trying to clean it. Game Girl hissed at the cold rush down her chest, but it was enough for Scoops to start to grab a series of gauze pads and bandages. “So, who’s he?”

“Friend,” Game Girl wheezed, her lower lip trembling as the memory flashed in her eyes. “...Thought he was… a friend…”

“I’m sorry,” Noah stammered out as his gaze went to the ground.

Game Girl raised an eyebrow, her numb body focusing on the interruption. “Who…?”

“Cameraboy,”  Scoops shrugged as he held the gauze steady while unraveling the bandages. “Noah’s shy. Good kid, though.”

As Scoops brought the rest of the bandages around Game Girl’s body, a miraculous sight unfolded itself. The wound on her chest magically closed as life and color brought itself back into her body. She opened her breath, taking her first deep breath in what seemed like ages.

“What in the goddamn…?” Scoops said aloud as he brought Game Girl’s shirt back down.

Noah turned his head back around, cocking his head in confusion at first before the video game logic unfolded itself.  “Did the bandages, like… act as a healing item for her?”

“Yeah,” GG wearily grinned before nearly staggering onto her side. “Knew you guys didn’t need the hospital…”

“...I’m gonna just nod my head along with you two and pretend that this makes a lick of sense.” Scoops declared.

As the moment settled in, GG’s smile faded, her gaze shifting out towards the horizon as the light slowly left her eyes. She still nodded, murmuring to herself. “This is the farm, huh…?”

“So, what made you choose here, outta all the places you had up yer’ sleeve?”

Game Girl hesitated. “You’re the only person left that I can trust.”

Noah’s brows furrowed as he looked back at Scoops.  “What did you two… do together? Aside from that one match you two teamed together for, anyway.”

“Oh, y’know,” Scoops shrugged back. “We went and did somethin’ outta some damn children’s storybook, pretty much, into some world called Nawfinex. But Vidya Game Girl over here saved my hide a couple times, so I figured I might as well repay the favor.”

“Wait… you went to Game Girl’s world?!” Noah’s eyes lit up as he ogled at the two of them. “That… that’s awesome! What was it like? What did you see? How was-”

Game Girl groaned, trying to ignore the headache that was building. Scoops snorted back at Noah, shaking his head. “How ‘bout I tell you later if you stop askin’ all those questions nonstop?”

“Scoops,” GG breathed out as she slowly managed to bring herself back to her feet. “I… I don’t know how long it’ll be until I can go back to my world. If there’s any way I can repay you…”

  “You ain’t gonna let that go, are you?” Scoops asked as he followed suit.

“Not a chance.”

Scoops exhaled, nodding as he mulled it over.   “...Alright. I don’t like leaving favors on the table, so I got somethin’ for ya now, if yer’ interested. How about we head back to the ring together? Maddy Dyson, Dolly Waters. Those two fucks call themselves the MAGA Powers. That ringin’ a bell for you at all?”

GG frowned. “Yeah. I teamed with Dolly in War Games, after all. Maddy… well, I’ve seen her around at least. I can’t say I’ve ever been a big fan of her.”

  “Good! Great, even. Well, that dumb bitch stuck her nose in my business while I was Xtreme champ, and costed me that damn belt for no good reason. So, I want some damn payback.”

Scoops clenched his fist tightly, a scowl creeping onto his face while doing so.  “I wanna take those damn tag titles off her shoulders. I wanna teach her not to stick her nose in my damn business, and to be quite honest? I wanna make those damn tag straps relevant again for once in this damn company.”

“And I know yer’ just the girl I can rely on to help me out with that.” Scoops let his scowl fade into a smile, reaching out a hand towards her.   “You in?”

Game Girl hesitated for a moment, staring down at that offered handshake before she slowly reached forward.  “I’m in.”

“They’re having another team involved, apparently,” Noah chimed as he was busy dusting himself off.
“I think the word is that Larry Tact and Corey Black are going to challen-”

“Larry Tact?” Scoops snorted, baffled. “You mean the same Larry Tact who got his ass beat by me last time we were about to step into that ring together? The same Larry Tact who’s been getting dogwalked by half the damn roster in his short time here? THAT Larry Tact? The fuck makes anybody think he’s in any position at all to go challenging for some gold?”

Scoops turned back to GG, brows furrowed at it. “This is the shit I’m talkin’ about, Vidya Game Girl. They don’t give a rat’s ass about no tag team gold in that company. It’s a fuckin’ afterthought. Always has been to them. And those dumbass MAGA Powers, they don’t give two shits. They’ll take an easy defense because that dumb bitch Maddy Dyson has always taken whatever handout gets given to her. And nothing ever changes.”

GG scratches the back of her neck and hisses in pain.  “Erm, I don’t agree with your choice of words but I do agree about handouts. Usually when I see Dyson she’s beating up someone who just walked into the company, like a hazing ritual almost. A bully who has nothing better to do.”

“Dolly though… I can’t really say anything to be honest. She’s been a good friend and a great rival, we’ve butted heads and come up even stevens.”

Scoops scoffs. “Ya think she’d say the same about you? That witch is a hustler if I’ve ever seen one; all that Misty Waters crap and what does she do when “Dolly” takes back control? Crawls back to Dyson, crawls back to try and get some easy wins! She talks about wanting to ‘redeem’ Madison, but she ain’t gonna be sayin’ a goddamn thing about how she’ll stick her nose into other people’s business because it benefits that stupid fuckin’ team. You won’t be fightin’ Dolly, girlie, you’ll be fightin’ a backstabbing succubus.”

Noah tugs at his collar as Scoops eyeballs him and realizes what he just said.

“Aw shit, I didn’t mean to bring up stabbing.”

Game Girl coughs a laugh and pats Scoops shoulder. “It’s fine, ha. I think I know what you mean, and betrayal isn’t something new to me right now…”

“I don’t think that makes it right…” Noah murmured as Scoops waved him off.

“I’ll, uh… work on that,” Scoops nodded. “But do we really think Maddy is all that much better? Little fuckin’ cockroach doesn’t know when to quit. It don’t matter what she does, how bad she fucks up - and believe me, she’s had more than her fair share of moments fuckin’ up - she’ll twist and gaslight anyone around to make it seem like she’s not some embarrassment.”

Game Girl thinks for a moment. “Back home, there was this evil called The Corruption. It was a force that swept over the land and turned it wretched and uninhabitable… I think Madison is the same. She spreads nothing but hate; for no real reason. She just does it to get a reaction? To make people miserable? To see someone who could be great like Dolly turn into a puppet? There’s no understanding something like that, no reasoning. You just have to-”

“Beat it,” Scoops interjected. “The only thing a bully can understand to know when to shut the fuck up is to march right up to them, look them dead in the eye, and you punch them in their jaw.”

GG nods slowly. “You’re right. Can’t spread hate when you’ve got a fist in your mouth, right?” She jokes.

“You talk like that, they’re gonna start asking if you mean the whole fist or somethin’,” Scoops snorted in amusement.

Game Girl perks up a bit with a snicker. “So,” she stands to her feet and rolls her shoulder. “What about Corey and Larry? Gonna be honest I don’t know a darn thing about them.”

“What about Larry Tact?” Scoops gave a side-eye towards Game Girl before turning his attention back to the GoPro camera atop Noah’s head as he continued. “I already ran down that loser before, but I’ll do it again. He’s a dime-a-dozen little pissant thinkin’ he can strut his way into this company, restin’ on his laurels, thinkin’ ‘cause he was hot shit in some defunct little wasteland that means somethin’ here. No one gives a shit about Level Up Wrestling here, fucker. Not a damn soul. You come in here without any fire, without any desire, you’re easy fuckin’ pickings. I showed that when we faced each other last time on Warfare, and that’s only gonna be the start once that bell rings.”

Scoops grinned, putting his hands on his hips. “Tables, Ladders, and Chairs. That’s my domain if there ever was one. You ever wonder how many different ways you can let your body be broken in half? I’m gonna fuckin’ show you. When I drag your carcass around that ring, beatin’ some sense into you, beatin’ how to be a proper family man into you, yer’ gonna realize you ain’t cut out for the XWF competition, boah.”

Game Girl smiles politely looking at the “strange device” Scoops is glaring at and then back to Scoops. “Level Up sounds pretty cool though.”

“It’s really not. It’s dead ‘cause of him being dead weight, after all.”

“Yeesh, he must be heavy, huh.” GG shoves her shoulder into an unmoving Scoops before she sighs. “So, he’s just kinda gonna be there? Like a Goomba.”

Scoops nodded, following along. “Yeah, like a goon-”

…

“Wait, what?”

Game Girl chuckles. “Simple obstacle to hop over… Technically a sentient mushroom.”

“Sounds about right…”

“I do have another question though… Why are we fighting with all this furniture around?”

Scoops raised an eyebrow out of curiosity. “You really ain’t been in one of these before?”

“Well… it’s simple. You’ve used weapons before. You crack some bastards over the head with some chairs, you crush their bodies through some tables, and when they’re all beaten and conked out, then ya climb the ladder and ya grab the titles right at the top.”

“Oooooooh.”  Game Girl pretends to understand with an over-exaggerated nod. “Gotcha! Very understandable. So I’ll just teleport to the belts and we win, right?”

“That…” Scoops was about to give a counter, but he paused, mulling the thought over. His eyes were slowly widening, the mere weight of such a revelation seeming otherworldly to the geezer.

“It’s like you have your own cheat code in this match…” Noah breathed out in excitement.

GG gives a few quick nods. [yellow]“Yeah, basically :)” She then looks back to Scoops who looks like he’s going through the end of 2001. “But, maybe, that would be cheating and I suppose you wouldn’t want to lower ourselves down to our opponents levels… Right, Scoops?”

Scoops crossed his arms as he turned towards Game Girl. “There ain’t such a thing as cheatin’ in this match in particular… but! You would be cheatin’ me outta the chance of crackin’ Maddy’s skull in as payback, and I’d actually get pretty pissed about that.”

“Okie dokie!” GG looks quickly back to Noah and gives him a wink before turning back, her movement returning to normal as she strolls around the barn and looking at the mundane objects cluttering it. “I owe you at least the chance to get payback on Madison. To be truthful, I wouldn’t mind knocking a few teeth out myself.”

“I guess that means we’re two of a kind then,” Scoops smirked. “Just like I guess I’m two of a kind with that Corey Black fellow, huh?”

“Truth be told, I only know so much about that little SOB, but I’ve seen some of his matches. I know what he’s capable of. But I also know he’s a little nasty part-timer ‘round these parts, ain’t he?”

Noah nodded, the camera following along with his head shaking as Scoops continued. “The thing about Corey is that he divvies up his attention more ways than you can count. You can just take a look at all the different places he’s fightin’ at, spreadin’ himself thin. Good for him that he’s a free agent and enjoyin’ life, pickin’ and choosin’ when he wants to come in, but that ain’t gonna help him here.”

Scoops frowned, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “I’m nothin’ but focused on this match in particular. I know you’re focused on havin’ my back, Girlie. And I can say a mountain of bullshit about those two fuckers Maddy and Dolly, but I know they’re at least focused on this match. I can’t say the same about Loser Larry and his little cockfaced friend. They got sandwiched together for shits and giggles, one of them dancin’ around places like a pinball while the other can’t even be relied on for any sort of consistency!”

Game Girl stops at a bunch of hay with a cocked head, oblivious to Scoops’ rant. “Do you have horses!?”

Scoops glanced over and responded by silently pointing at the nearby stable of horses, who neighed and sputtered at the sight of her.

Game Girl skips over to the horses she somehow only just noticed and begins petting one. “So cool.” She turns to Scoops. “You have a real nice place here, you should be proud.”

“Girlie, I feel like you're avoiding the matter at hand here.”

GG finishes petting the horse and dusts off her hand with a short exhale. “Yeah~” She wanders back over to Scoops, swinging her arms. “I will help you out no matter what, I owe you that much but I said to myself that I want to have fun again! Saying bad things about people I barely know… I don’t know… It makes me feel icky. And I know it’s part of the game but after everything that’s just happened is it really important?”

“Just a minute ago you said you were ready to bust some heads!” Scoops replied.

“I know! And I will fight and get you what you deserve, I swear down! But you say Corey is spread thin and probably won’t even realize he’s in a match, from the sounds of it will probably show up in a different company like a moron, Larry Tact is a poor defenseless mushroom, Dolly is possibly brainwashed AGAIN and Madison is a bully! Like we agreed, actions are gonna speak a lot louder than words with her.”

Scoops laughs. “Ya don’t need to talk to ‘em if you don’t wanna. I just need you to have my back, which I know you do.”

“Darn right I do! You stuck with me when you didn’t need to when we saved Roxy, you just saved my life. I-” Game Girl stops short and smiles widely before getting down on one knee. “Scoops McGee, I pledge my full allegiance to you. I abandon my title as Hero of Narfinex and swear to be your protector at all costs.”

Scoops nervously coughed into his fist. “Alright, Girlie, I’m… flattered and all that, but you don’t need to make this weird. Besides, you’re… ready to give up yer’ home just like that? You ain’t even thinkin’ about revenge? You… just got betrayed, after all.”

Game Girl stands up straight, her chest swelling with pride. “I don’t need revenge… I don’t need a home that I don’t know anymore... I need a friend.”

A forlorn smile stretched itself across Scoops’ face as he walked beside GG and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Well… if you say so.”

Scoops planted his hands on his hips, sauntering out of the barn and gazing off towards his ranch in the far distance, right in the middle of the McGee family farm as only one thought was creeping to his mind.

“...Shit, I’m gonna have to be feedin’ four mouths now, aren’t I?”[/i]]]> As the moons hang high in the star-filled cobalt sky, we go to a quiet campsite. Game Girl sits on a bedroll stoking the flames of the fire; her eyes unmoving as the sparks dance and the wood snaps with a crackle. With a sigh, she drops the stick into the fire and stands to her feet. She looks to the lavish tent to her right and back to her own; a barely standing lean-to. GG walks away from the camp into the darkness of the forest, ignoring the snoring and chirping of crickets to the sound of running water buried behind the brush.

As she pushes past the bramble and crushes vines under her foot; her mind flashes to Game Boy and the wolf earlier. The carcass swarmed with flies and peppered with spears, the killshot of GB’s arrow lodged firmly between its malnourished chest. The visions clear as the water rumbles louder and she steps to the edge of the cliff. The waterfall casting clouds into the air which float into the night; Narfinex lit in the distance bellowing sky lanterns like smoke. She smiles to herself. A brief respite.

Her ears sharpen as footsteps approach; she snaps her head to Game Boy strolling through the path she made; his sword on his back but he wears no armor. Game Boy gives a kind smile to her and a nod.

“Hey, you doing okay?”

GG smiles back but turns to the waterfall and the river flowing far below.

“Honestly, I don’t know.”

Game Boy scratches his temple and takes another step closer.

“You were quiet for most of the journey. Have I done something wrong, or?”

Game Girl folds her arms and hesitates, a shudder comes over her.

“I- uh… Things seem weird. Like… No matter how many times I’ve lived through all that’s happened, there was always a sense of familiarity. The world changed but everyone stayed the same. This time…” She turns fully to face Game Boy. “You’re different.”

He furrows his brow at her, pulling away from the tree he rested his shoulder on and stands firm.

“Different how?”

“This morning when we talked, you seemed off when I told you how I got my powers, you said we never chased dragons or explored dungeons… You said I did that with someone different… So-” She inhales deeply, her robotic hand curling into a fist. “Who are you?”

He looks at Game Girl’s fist and back to her face. A look of betrayal set on it. His mouth agape he scoffs walking closer to her.

“Paige, I-” He halts his movement, pinching the bridge of his nose while shaking his head. He looks back up to her, pleading. “I wasn’t given many opportunities when I was younger, I don’t know about the other versions of me you met but I had it rough. I only met you after I became a soldier and I worked hard to prove myself and raise myself to captain. We did work together a lot but it wasn’t fun! I mean… I enjoyed our time together but I was doing my job! I- … I apologize if I offended you or anything but I do what I do to protect the ones I love, for the greater good of Narfinex! If that means kill a wolf who could attack OUR Princess then I’ll do that, if I have to remind you that we have a duty, I’ll do that.”

Game Girl’s pupils flicker before she pushes her eyes close, shrugging off the tremble in her voice before locking eyes with Game Boy. A shaky breath leaves GB’s lungs as he stands up straight.

“If you want to punch me… Or worse… Then go ahead, you’re the greatest person I’ve met, Paige, if I lost your trust… All I can do is say sorry. If you want to wail on me to get what you’re feeling to pass..” He opens his arms wide. “Have at it.”

GG’s bottom lip quivers momentarily before she bites down and lets out a rasp. Sniffing up she drops her shoulders and turns away again, hiding the tear forming in her eye.

“... I’m sorry… I must be stressed or tired… I-I don’t know.”

Game Boy breathes a sigh of relief as his arms drop and he steps up to her slowly with an open palm going to clasp on her shoulder.

“No, Paige…”

┃The voice of Gabe Bachgan continuing his interview sounds as Game Boy’s hand slowly falls on Game Girl’s shoulder.┃
┃ “Ai loved the characters she created… I did too for a long, long time. But… Times change… People change so should characters in shows, movies and games. Game Girl was a naive, optimistic, hopeful person who had a run of bad luck and it challenged her outlook. Ai saw a lot of herself in her, I do too and I can’t change that.”

“Game Boy was lovably dumb, courageous and loyal to a fault… Ai said he was based on me. I, heh, I see it.”

“But I’m not dumb anymore, I’ve had hardships. And these characters aren’t real… They’re lines of code, playthings. I can change what I need and it hit me!”

“How can I finish a video game when it’s so broken that it ends before the final boss?”┃

As Game Boy’s hand grabs her shoulder, Game Girl wheezes as the blade of his sword bursts through her chest followed by crimson ichor.

┃ “Change the final boss!” ┃

Her pupils turn to pin pricks as she coughs up blood; her muscles seizing as her hands twitch. She twists her neck slowly to see Game Boy’s eyes looking back at her, staring into a well of deep sorrow but relentless determination. He holds back tears and swallows the lump clogging his throat, steeling himself. GG’s hand moves like molasses as she goes to touch GB’s. The despair on his face fading into one of stoicism.

“-I’m sorry.”

Pulling the sword back; Game Girl stands there for a moment before gravity tugs her down the cliff towards the rapids. Game Boy looks at the blade covered in her blood and drops to his knees holding a hand over his mouth. Warbled tones force their way out of his throat as he puts up a dam to the torrent of sobbing. Breaking down, his spine curls as he pushes his forehead into the dirt which he stays in for some time before the noises cease, only the waterfall crashing fills the night air. He digs his sword into the soil and pulls himself up, looking up to the stars before cleaning his sword and heading back through the brush.


The gentle breeze rolled itself along Scoops McGee’s face as he lugged buckets of food and grain across the fields of the McGee family farm. He exhaled sharply as he was coming closer to the ruby red barn looming in the distance, the shadow casted by it granting a weight even more intense on his shoulders.

Finally, however, he looked back behind him as he snapped. “Put some goddamn backbone into it and pick up the pace, boah!”

Whereas Scoops was carrying about four buckets loaded to the brim in his hands with different colors of fruits and vegetables amidst the waves of grain, his cameraman Noah was busy lugging an entire wheelbarrow full of food across the field. He had to trade out his normal camera for a GoPro sitting atop his head, with sweat caking all over his face.

“I don’t think…” he weakly sputtered, “I’m cut out for this…”

Scoops scoffed at Noah as he was trying to play catch-up to him. “You’re a third of my age, boah, now try and act like it. We’re about to head inside, anyway.”

Blades of grass were beginning to switch themselves out for specks of hay as they were coming closer, the two’s feet crunching against the ground. Noah gritted his teeth as hard as he could, his vein throbbed in his forehead from the rush of blood. He was trying to ready himself for what seemed like the last push inside.

[i](“It hurts to even breathe,”) [/i][i]he mused to himself. (“But maybe just talking can try to take my mind off of some of this pain…”)

“Hey…” Noah called out to Scoops, continuing as he saw the old man look over his shoulder. “You… you never said… what was on that note you got the other week…”

Scoops twitched with his eyebrows as he stopped just a ways away from the entrance. “It’s an invitation from Johnny.”

“What did he want?” Noah asked, the gap of time between his steps having begun to lengthen. “I’m surprised… he was secretive about it…”

“That’s ‘cause it’s about a secret project,” Scoops snorted. “His nephew, he’s… into all sortsa computer shit. He’s been working on something for ages, and Johnny’s been wanting to pull me in to come see it.”

Noah nodded, but as he finally came to the entrance alongside Scoops after what felt like an eternity, a raucous chorus of snorts, neighs and moans awaited them both. The barn had been whipped right into a frenzy with the pig pen in particular in disarray. The horse stables found themselves staring right over at the chaos unfolding, with the hogs running all over the place in a panic.

“Uh…” Noah pointed as he wiped the sweat building off of his face. He already knew this was going to start turning into a long day. “That’s not… normal, is it?”

Scoops’ face was about ready to fall off of his skull at this rate. “Fuck no, it ain’t. Talkin’ bout tech shit can wait, boah.”

He marched on forward, buckets in his hands as he looked back. “You focus on feedin’ those horsies while I take care of the hogs.”

“W-Wait a minute…” Noah nervously coughed, stepping forward with the wheelbarrow again as he glanced wide-eyed at Scoops. The memories of what happened the last time he had to handle one of the steeds inside of the barn flashed through his mind, and he wasn’t ready to relive history. “I think I need some help…”

“How about you wait a goddamn minu-”

“...S-Scoops…”

The color left both men’s faces as they glanced at each other, wide-eyed. Scoops dropped the buckets and went for the entrance of the pig pen, grumbling under his breath as he unlatched the entrance inside. A dozen pigs were all scrambling about, bleating both at each other and the girl with blue hair who found herself within the middle of the pack, blood streaming out of a deep gash inside of her chest.

“S-Scoops…” Game Girl whimpered as her glassy eyes stared up at him.

“Ho-lee fuckin’ shit,” Scoops breathed out.

Noah had managed to sneak behind Scoops, his GoPro capturing the moment as his jaw went slack. “What’s she doing he-”

“Don’t know, don’t care right now,” Scoops frowned as he marched on ahead. “First aid kit’s on the second floor of the barn. Grab that while I get her out and call an ambulance.”

Scoops walked on ahead as Noah slowly backpedaled away, but Game Girl interrupted them both. “Don’t… need… hospital-”

“Girlie, I don’t give a damn what you want right about now,” Scoops scoffed as he proceeded to carry Game Girl up and out bridal-style, ignoring the hay and mud that clung onto her body.   “What I’m concerned about is makin’ sure you don’t die.”

Noah stepped his way up the ladder, the old wood brushing sharply against his hand as he tried to make sure he wasn’t about to collect any splinters from it. Once he managed to step onto the second floor, however, a cobweb to the face was what greeted him.

“Scoops!” Noah shouted back down. “We gotta clean up here!”

“Worry ‘bout that later!” Scoops responded from down below, before his ragged whispers could be faintly heard by Noah down below. “How the Hell didya earn that wound, Girlie?”

“Hurts…” Game Girl coughed out, trying her best to choke down the blood. “He… hurt me…”

Scoops grumbled to himself, trying to keep his hands moving to keep the poor girl stabilized. “Yeah, whatever jackass that did that to ya, I’m gonna make sure I cave his damn skull in.”

A beat of time passed before he looked back up towards the ceiling. “Noah!”


“I got it!” he responded, his hands having fumbled across the dark hallway across the wall until he found the kit. He darted back as fast as he could, and scrambled down the ladder to find Scoops having sat GG down by the entrance while sitting next to her to hold her steady.

Color was quickly fading from her dying body.

“Of all the fuckin’ times to get no signal,” Scoops spat in disgust before turning his screen off. “Alright! I ain’t no surgeon, but lemme try and bandage this up, at least. I can try to hold the bleedin’ steady.”

“Bandages… all I need…” Game Girl warily nodded in response.

Scoops and Noah shared a glance at each other before Noah popped the first aid kit open, revealing the numerous contents to Scoops. He quickly took a nearby water bottle that the two lugged along with them to the barn, looking back at GG with sympathy in his eyes and moved her shirt up. A nervous flush quickly formed around Noah’s face as he coughed and looked away, bringing the camera view with him towards the other side of the barn.

“This is gonna sting a bit,” Scoops warned before pouring a bit of the water down onto the wound, trying to clean it. Game Girl hissed at the cold rush down her chest, but it was enough for Scoops to start to grab a series of gauze pads and bandages. “So, who’s he?”

“Friend,” Game Girl wheezed, her lower lip trembling as the memory flashed in her eyes. “...Thought he was… a friend…”

“I’m sorry,” Noah stammered out as his gaze went to the ground.

Game Girl raised an eyebrow, her numb body focusing on the interruption. “Who…?”

“Cameraboy,”  Scoops shrugged as he held the gauze steady while unraveling the bandages. “Noah’s shy. Good kid, though.”

As Scoops brought the rest of the bandages around Game Girl’s body, a miraculous sight unfolded itself. The wound on her chest magically closed as life and color brought itself back into her body. She opened her breath, taking her first deep breath in what seemed like ages.

“What in the goddamn…?” Scoops said aloud as he brought Game Girl’s shirt back down.

Noah turned his head back around, cocking his head in confusion at first before the video game logic unfolded itself.  “Did the bandages, like… act as a healing item for her?”

“Yeah,” GG wearily grinned before nearly staggering onto her side. “Knew you guys didn’t need the hospital…”

“...I’m gonna just nod my head along with you two and pretend that this makes a lick of sense.” Scoops declared.

As the moment settled in, GG’s smile faded, her gaze shifting out towards the horizon as the light slowly left her eyes. She still nodded, murmuring to herself. “This is the farm, huh…?”

“So, what made you choose here, outta all the places you had up yer’ sleeve?”

Game Girl hesitated. “You’re the only person left that I can trust.”

Noah’s brows furrowed as he looked back at Scoops.  “What did you two… do together? Aside from that one match you two teamed together for, anyway.”

“Oh, y’know,” Scoops shrugged back. “We went and did somethin’ outta some damn children’s storybook, pretty much, into some world called Nawfinex. But Vidya Game Girl over here saved my hide a couple times, so I figured I might as well repay the favor.”

“Wait… you went to Game Girl’s world?!” Noah’s eyes lit up as he ogled at the two of them. “That… that’s awesome! What was it like? What did you see? How was-”

Game Girl groaned, trying to ignore the headache that was building. Scoops snorted back at Noah, shaking his head. “How ‘bout I tell you later if you stop askin’ all those questions nonstop?”

“Scoops,” GG breathed out as she slowly managed to bring herself back to her feet. “I… I don’t know how long it’ll be until I can go back to my world. If there’s any way I can repay you…”

  “You ain’t gonna let that go, are you?” Scoops asked as he followed suit.

“Not a chance.”

Scoops exhaled, nodding as he mulled it over.   “...Alright. I don’t like leaving favors on the table, so I got somethin’ for ya now, if yer’ interested. How about we head back to the ring together? Maddy Dyson, Dolly Waters. Those two fucks call themselves the MAGA Powers. That ringin’ a bell for you at all?”

GG frowned. “Yeah. I teamed with Dolly in War Games, after all. Maddy… well, I’ve seen her around at least. I can’t say I’ve ever been a big fan of her.”

  “Good! Great, even. Well, that dumb bitch stuck her nose in my business while I was Xtreme champ, and costed me that damn belt for no good reason. So, I want some damn payback.”

Scoops clenched his fist tightly, a scowl creeping onto his face while doing so.  “I wanna take those damn tag titles off her shoulders. I wanna teach her not to stick her nose in my damn business, and to be quite honest? I wanna make those damn tag straps relevant again for once in this damn company.”

“And I know yer’ just the girl I can rely on to help me out with that.” Scoops let his scowl fade into a smile, reaching out a hand towards her.   “You in?”

Game Girl hesitated for a moment, staring down at that offered handshake before she slowly reached forward.  “I’m in.”

“They’re having another team involved, apparently,” Noah chimed as he was busy dusting himself off.
“I think the word is that Larry Tact and Corey Black are going to challen-”

“Larry Tact?” Scoops snorted, baffled. “You mean the same Larry Tact who got his ass beat by me last time we were about to step into that ring together? The same Larry Tact who’s been getting dogwalked by half the damn roster in his short time here? THAT Larry Tact? The fuck makes anybody think he’s in any position at all to go challenging for some gold?”

Scoops turned back to GG, brows furrowed at it. “This is the shit I’m talkin’ about, Vidya Game Girl. They don’t give a rat’s ass about no tag team gold in that company. It’s a fuckin’ afterthought. Always has been to them. And those dumbass MAGA Powers, they don’t give two shits. They’ll take an easy defense because that dumb bitch Maddy Dyson has always taken whatever handout gets given to her. And nothing ever changes.”

GG scratches the back of her neck and hisses in pain.  “Erm, I don’t agree with your choice of words but I do agree about handouts. Usually when I see Dyson she’s beating up someone who just walked into the company, like a hazing ritual almost. A bully who has nothing better to do.”

“Dolly though… I can’t really say anything to be honest. She’s been a good friend and a great rival, we’ve butted heads and come up even stevens.”

Scoops scoffs. “Ya think she’d say the same about you? That witch is a hustler if I’ve ever seen one; all that Misty Waters crap and what does she do when “Dolly” takes back control? Crawls back to Dyson, crawls back to try and get some easy wins! She talks about wanting to ‘redeem’ Madison, but she ain’t gonna be sayin’ a goddamn thing about how she’ll stick her nose into other people’s business because it benefits that stupid fuckin’ team. You won’t be fightin’ Dolly, girlie, you’ll be fightin’ a backstabbing succubus.”

Noah tugs at his collar as Scoops eyeballs him and realizes what he just said.

“Aw shit, I didn’t mean to bring up stabbing.”

Game Girl coughs a laugh and pats Scoops shoulder. “It’s fine, ha. I think I know what you mean, and betrayal isn’t something new to me right now…”

“I don’t think that makes it right…” Noah murmured as Scoops waved him off.

“I’ll, uh… work on that,” Scoops nodded. “But do we really think Maddy is all that much better? Little fuckin’ cockroach doesn’t know when to quit. It don’t matter what she does, how bad she fucks up - and believe me, she’s had more than her fair share of moments fuckin’ up - she’ll twist and gaslight anyone around to make it seem like she’s not some embarrassment.”

Game Girl thinks for a moment. “Back home, there was this evil called The Corruption. It was a force that swept over the land and turned it wretched and uninhabitable… I think Madison is the same. She spreads nothing but hate; for no real reason. She just does it to get a reaction? To make people miserable? To see someone who could be great like Dolly turn into a puppet? There’s no understanding something like that, no reasoning. You just have to-”

“Beat it,” Scoops interjected. “The only thing a bully can understand to know when to shut the fuck up is to march right up to them, look them dead in the eye, and you punch them in their jaw.”

GG nods slowly. “You’re right. Can’t spread hate when you’ve got a fist in your mouth, right?” She jokes.

“You talk like that, they’re gonna start asking if you mean the whole fist or somethin’,” Scoops snorted in amusement.

Game Girl perks up a bit with a snicker. “So,” she stands to her feet and rolls her shoulder. “What about Corey and Larry? Gonna be honest I don’t know a darn thing about them.”

“What about Larry Tact?” Scoops gave a side-eye towards Game Girl before turning his attention back to the GoPro camera atop Noah’s head as he continued. “I already ran down that loser before, but I’ll do it again. He’s a dime-a-dozen little pissant thinkin’ he can strut his way into this company, restin’ on his laurels, thinkin’ ‘cause he was hot shit in some defunct little wasteland that means somethin’ here. No one gives a shit about Level Up Wrestling here, fucker. Not a damn soul. You come in here without any fire, without any desire, you’re easy fuckin’ pickings. I showed that when we faced each other last time on Warfare, and that’s only gonna be the start once that bell rings.”

Scoops grinned, putting his hands on his hips. “Tables, Ladders, and Chairs. That’s my domain if there ever was one. You ever wonder how many different ways you can let your body be broken in half? I’m gonna fuckin’ show you. When I drag your carcass around that ring, beatin’ some sense into you, beatin’ how to be a proper family man into you, yer’ gonna realize you ain’t cut out for the XWF competition, boah.”

Game Girl smiles politely looking at the “strange device” Scoops is glaring at and then back to Scoops. “Level Up sounds pretty cool though.”

“It’s really not. It’s dead ‘cause of him being dead weight, after all.”

“Yeesh, he must be heavy, huh.” GG shoves her shoulder into an unmoving Scoops before she sighs. “So, he’s just kinda gonna be there? Like a Goomba.”

Scoops nodded, following along. “Yeah, like a goon-”

…

“Wait, what?”

Game Girl chuckles. “Simple obstacle to hop over… Technically a sentient mushroom.”

“Sounds about right…”

“I do have another question though… Why are we fighting with all this furniture around?”

Scoops raised an eyebrow out of curiosity. “You really ain’t been in one of these before?”

“Well… it’s simple. You’ve used weapons before. You crack some bastards over the head with some chairs, you crush their bodies through some tables, and when they’re all beaten and conked out, then ya climb the ladder and ya grab the titles right at the top.”

“Oooooooh.”  Game Girl pretends to understand with an over-exaggerated nod. “Gotcha! Very understandable. So I’ll just teleport to the belts and we win, right?”

“That…” Scoops was about to give a counter, but he paused, mulling the thought over. His eyes were slowly widening, the mere weight of such a revelation seeming otherworldly to the geezer.

“It’s like you have your own cheat code in this match…” Noah breathed out in excitement.

GG gives a few quick nods. [yellow]“Yeah, basically :)” She then looks back to Scoops who looks like he’s going through the end of 2001. “But, maybe, that would be cheating and I suppose you wouldn’t want to lower ourselves down to our opponents levels… Right, Scoops?”

Scoops crossed his arms as he turned towards Game Girl. “There ain’t such a thing as cheatin’ in this match in particular… but! You would be cheatin’ me outta the chance of crackin’ Maddy’s skull in as payback, and I’d actually get pretty pissed about that.”

“Okie dokie!” GG looks quickly back to Noah and gives him a wink before turning back, her movement returning to normal as she strolls around the barn and looking at the mundane objects cluttering it. “I owe you at least the chance to get payback on Madison. To be truthful, I wouldn’t mind knocking a few teeth out myself.”

“I guess that means we’re two of a kind then,” Scoops smirked. “Just like I guess I’m two of a kind with that Corey Black fellow, huh?”

“Truth be told, I only know so much about that little SOB, but I’ve seen some of his matches. I know what he’s capable of. But I also know he’s a little nasty part-timer ‘round these parts, ain’t he?”

Noah nodded, the camera following along with his head shaking as Scoops continued. “The thing about Corey is that he divvies up his attention more ways than you can count. You can just take a look at all the different places he’s fightin’ at, spreadin’ himself thin. Good for him that he’s a free agent and enjoyin’ life, pickin’ and choosin’ when he wants to come in, but that ain’t gonna help him here.”

Scoops frowned, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “I’m nothin’ but focused on this match in particular. I know you’re focused on havin’ my back, Girlie. And I can say a mountain of bullshit about those two fuckers Maddy and Dolly, but I know they’re at least focused on this match. I can’t say the same about Loser Larry and his little cockfaced friend. They got sandwiched together for shits and giggles, one of them dancin’ around places like a pinball while the other can’t even be relied on for any sort of consistency!”

Game Girl stops at a bunch of hay with a cocked head, oblivious to Scoops’ rant. “Do you have horses!?”

Scoops glanced over and responded by silently pointing at the nearby stable of horses, who neighed and sputtered at the sight of her.

Game Girl skips over to the horses she somehow only just noticed and begins petting one. “So cool.” She turns to Scoops. “You have a real nice place here, you should be proud.”

“Girlie, I feel like you're avoiding the matter at hand here.”

GG finishes petting the horse and dusts off her hand with a short exhale. “Yeah~” She wanders back over to Scoops, swinging her arms. “I will help you out no matter what, I owe you that much but I said to myself that I want to have fun again! Saying bad things about people I barely know… I don’t know… It makes me feel icky. And I know it’s part of the game but after everything that’s just happened is it really important?”

“Just a minute ago you said you were ready to bust some heads!” Scoops replied.

“I know! And I will fight and get you what you deserve, I swear down! But you say Corey is spread thin and probably won’t even realize he’s in a match, from the sounds of it will probably show up in a different company like a moron, Larry Tact is a poor defenseless mushroom, Dolly is possibly brainwashed AGAIN and Madison is a bully! Like we agreed, actions are gonna speak a lot louder than words with her.”

Scoops laughs. “Ya don’t need to talk to ‘em if you don’t wanna. I just need you to have my back, which I know you do.”

“Darn right I do! You stuck with me when you didn’t need to when we saved Roxy, you just saved my life. I-” Game Girl stops short and smiles widely before getting down on one knee. “Scoops McGee, I pledge my full allegiance to you. I abandon my title as Hero of Narfinex and swear to be your protector at all costs.”

Scoops nervously coughed into his fist. “Alright, Girlie, I’m… flattered and all that, but you don’t need to make this weird. Besides, you’re… ready to give up yer’ home just like that? You ain’t even thinkin’ about revenge? You… just got betrayed, after all.”

Game Girl stands up straight, her chest swelling with pride. “I don’t need revenge… I don’t need a home that I don’t know anymore... I need a friend.”

A forlorn smile stretched itself across Scoops’ face as he walked beside GG and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Well… if you say so.”

Scoops planted his hands on his hips, sauntering out of the barn and gazing off towards his ranch in the far distance, right in the middle of the McGee family farm as only one thought was creeping to his mind.

“...Shit, I’m gonna have to be feedin’ four mouths now, aren’t I?”[/i]]]> <![CDATA[JOSEPH-AND-ROGER-CON 2025!]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48708 Fri, 28 Mar 2025 21:57:41 -0700 "Cavortin'" Jake Borden]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48708 “Hello everybody my name is Roger and it is truly a dream come true of mine to be here with you today, because last night I had a dream of being with you today and now here I am at the first ever JOSEPH-AND-ROGER-CON. We will be kicking off today’s festivities with a panel of Qs and also of As, where the ‘Q’ stands for ‘Questions’ and the ‘A’ stands for 'Answer’. Does anybody have a Q in need of Aing? Yes, you there?”

A man leans into a microphone before the audience.

”Yes, my Q is… what’s so amazing about foggy London?”

FWISH! Beside the stage, a portal opens! From it storms Roger’s half-brother - master necromancer, Hollywood man of sex, and pretty good glassblower, that bitch Joseph Gordon-Levitt.

“I thought we agreed to let the other Rogers and Josephs do all the panels?”

“Right… err, yes. Please direct all Roger-related Qs in need of As to the other Roger panellist. I love you all, and if you see any time-travelling assassins - remember they are easily fooled by ruses involving X-Bux. Ciao!”

Roger and that bitch Joseph Gordon-Levitt step through the portal, leaving the panel to…

[Image: 614183013_highres.jpg]

”Hello my name is Roger Federer and when I first came to London, someone said ‘Roger you’re good at tennis could you win Wimbledon’ and I said what’s Wimbledon, and he said ‘wimble-down-on-deez-nuts’...”


The portal takes Roger and his half-brother to the center of a bustling auditorium!

JOSEPH-AND-ROGER-CON

Josephs Welcome!

(Rogers tolerated)


“This might be the best JOSEPH-AND-ROGER-CON anyone has ever thrown. At least top three. I have met so many nice Rogers like Roger Ferrari that we left back there and I even met a Joseph who was very good at cuddling and if I had to arrange everyone I’ve met into a tier lis–”

“Just remember, this is all a charade. Our purpose isn't fraternizing.”

”...Tisn’t?”

”T’ain’t!”

Roger grins. JGL exhales, knowing he just said ‘taint’.

“This is the culmination of our mission to stop who’s murdering all the Rogers/Josephs!!”

“That's pretty good thinking for an evil whore of a human being. If we gather all the Rogers and the Josephs in the same place, they’ll be far saf–”

“The mysterious force won’t be able to resist coming here to kill them!!” JGL fiendishly wrings his hands. ”It’s a honeypot!”

“Oh bother, I forgot to bring my honey dipper! Is there enough honey to go round? I love honey though I prefer it in jars rather than po–”

”H-H-Hey!”

Jake Borden approaches, sporting a convention t-shirt reading ‘PROUD FATHER OF A ROGER’!

”R-R-Roger!”

Many convention attendees turn around.

”Me?” A dozen-and-a-half say in unison.

”Er… w-w-what-I-mean-is…”

”Jake Borden! My cherished friend and also future biological father in the past - but not the past that you’re from; a different past that hasn’t happened yet!”

Jake side-steps through many confused Rogers to his Roger.

”This c-c-convention is gr-gr-great! I-I-I’m l-l-learning so m-m-much about R-R-Roger c-c-culture!”

Jake extends a brochure…


”D-d-did you know that R-R-Rogers p-p-produce four-point-EIGHT-percent of the w-w-world’s dinner c-c-conversation?”

”I do now, Jake Borden!”

”A-a-also!” Jake retrieves from his pocket…

A somewhat-melted Roger-Ebert-shaped ice-cream treat!

Jake gives it to Roger!

”A delicious icy face! Thank you Jake Borden but also… why Jake Borden?”

”W-w-well… a-a-after we s-s-saw f-f-future me… er… b-b-bedding y-y-your m-m-mother… and y-y-you were s-s-surprised, I-I-I r-r-realized f-f-future m-m-me must not have b-b-been around!”

Jake flips the pamphlet, where he’s scrawled a crude checklist.

”M-m-maybe we c-c-could do things P-P-Papa Borden and I did! Like‘spl-spl-split ice-cream’, ‘c-c-carry y-y-you on my sh-sh-shoulders’ and…”

Jake dry-swallows. ”Sp-sp-speaking of b-b-bedding, should we d-d-discuss the… er… b-b-birds ‘n b-b-b-b…honeybees.”

“I learned lots about birds and about honeybees at camp as a wee Roger on holiday with my dearest mummy along the banks of the river Avon where you and I shall soon do battle together once again. Also, my darling Molly who is fifteen months pregnant with my child told me about how birds and bees also make the sex together.”

”...O-o-oh! Gr-gr-great!”

”...C-c-could you ex-ex-explain it? Y-y-y’know, so I-I-I know you u-understand it.”

”...C-c-cuz I… h-h-have.”

…

”...Done s-s-ssss… ‘intercourse’, I-mean.”

“If I wasn’t the only necromancer here, I’d wish someone would kill me!”

”KILL ALL ROGERS/JOSEPHS!”

WHAM! Bursting through the auditorium’s ceiling…

A FIRE-RED TWENTY-FOOT-TALL ROBOT!

…With a… gaping hole in its… crotch-region.

”D-d-don’t look! You c-c-can see its g-g-genitals!!”

”...Jake Borden, if that’s how your genitals look, we might need to find a doctor Roger before you make the sex with my mummy.”

The Large Robot LANDS! Other Rogers/Josephs flee in pandemonium!

Roger advances, politely averting his gaze from the robot’s… port.

”Hello Robot, my name is Roger an–”

SWAT! The robot punches! Roger dodges backwards (his fourth-favorite direction to travel!)

Jake tumbles rightward!

That bitch Joseph Gordon-Levitt…

Is scooped by the automaton’s massive hand!

”KILL ALL ROGERS/JOSEPHS!”

The necromancer wriggles like only a necromancer can when trapped in a giant robot’s palm!

”I knew you’d come! You’re the Being that’s been killing all Josephs and Rogers?!”

”NO!”

”What?!?”

”I WAS SENT HERE BY THAT BEING! HE-OR-SHE-OR-IT KNEW THIS CONVENTION WAS A HONEYPOT! WHY WOULD THERE BE A ROGER/JOSEPH CONVENTION WHEN THE ROGER/JOSEPH MARKET HAS TRENDED DOWNWARD THE LAST FIVE YEARS?!”

”The whole economy’s down! If you cross-reference industry trends, the Joseph market is overperformi-*OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!”

The robot squeezes that bitch Joseph Gordon-Levitt with all his might! The wicked villain weakly spreads his necromancing hands to resurrect his crushed spine… But, he’s struggling!

Meanwhile, behind a ‘Roger Goodell’ merchandise booth, Jake and Roger scope the robot’s backside!

Roger grabs a football!

”O-o-oh! Gr-gr-great idea! I-I-I’ll t-t-teach you to th-th-throw a spiral!”

Roger HUCKS the football toward the robot!

A PERFECT SPIRAL!

”O-o-oh…” Jake disappointedly crosses that off his father-son activities list.

The ball rockets like a rocket-propelled rocket made of rockets!

…BUT! It harmlessly bounces off the robot’s exterior!

The robot turns around!

Roger clears his throat.

”Hello Robot my name is Roger and did you say you are not the one killing all Rogers and Josephs?”

”CORRECT! I WAS HIRED TO KILL ROGERS-AND-JOSEPHS ONLY TODAY!”

”O-o-oh! S-s-so you’re n-n-not a m-m-murderous m-m-machination?”

“NO. I AM. BUT MY ACTUAL MISSION IS TO KILL ALL THADDEUSES.”

“Oh… well there's nobody here named that. There's just Roger, and Joseph, and Roger, and Roger, and Joseph, and Joseph, and Roger, and of course there's daddy Jake Borden.”

Jake quickly scribbles ‘daddy Jake Borden’ in a book titled ‘birds and bees’ to keep track of what he might do when he makes the sex with Roger’s mummy in the future-past.

ZAP!

Necromantic bolts shoot off from the Robot’s hand and that bitch Joseph Gordon-Levitt falls to the ground. He begins speaking in tongues, sending all sorts of evil magic at the robot, distracting him.

“Jake Borden, we need to find a way to stop this loveless robot!”

“W-w-well he h-h-has a b-b-big h-hole in his c-c-crotch.”

“My gosh, Jake Borden, you must be one of the cleverest people that has ever lived!”

Jake blushes proudly.

“Let’s go!”

Roger pulls Jake by the hand! They sneak closer to where the Robot deflects that bitch Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s blasts.

“I-I-I'll b-boo-boost y-you u-u-u–”

“No! Up is my least-favorite direction to travel! You'll have to climb my shoulders!”

Jake forlornly crosses another item from his list as Roger gets down on his knees!

Borden ascends!

But even with all Roger’s might, Jake… actually seems to drop further downward, completely unlifted!

“I'm not strong enough…”

“I-I bel-bel-believe in you.”

That does the trick. Roger powers Jake up the robot’s crotchhole!

“Godspeed, Jake Borden! You are the bravest man I know!”


Jake scurries up the robot-hole…

”Th-th-this exhaust p-p-port is e-e-exhaus…exhaaaa…er, I’m t-t-tired!”

Finally, Jake exits the exit! Into…

…A large mall?

”...And I th-th-thought he looked b-b-big from o-o-outside…”

The mall’s barren…

…Except one blonde, talking on a cellphone.

”So, this guy approaches Vanessa and I, like ‘ma’am, do you have the time?’ and I said ‘uhhhhhh, no time for YOU! We have boyfriends who are rich an-”

…

”What do you MEEEEEEAN, you know this story already?!?”

…

”You were there? Vanessa, that doesn't mean you can tell me you’ve heard the story! You’re saying I’m repetitive! And repetitive means basic!!”

”E-e-excuse me!”

”I’m ON the PHONE! How dare you spea-”

…The blonde spins… eyeing Jake up-and-down.

”Ohmigawd, I luuuuuv your hair!” The blonde prods Jake’s fluff. ”Like, what IS this?”

”A m-m-mullet, m-m-ma’am!”

”Vaness’, I found a new sister who doesn’t think I’m basic! K-thx-baiiiiiii!”

Click.

”S-s-sister?!? I-I-I’m a m-m-m…er, boy!”

The blonde drags Jake by the hand.

”Let’s hit the foodcourt! I’m buying! My daddy is rich!”

Jake dry-swallows. ”O-o-oh! I-I-I h-h-hope R-R-Roger’s k-k-keepin’ that robot b-b-busy!”


MID-BATTLE DINNER BREAK


Roger, JGL and the robot sit at a table.

Roger’s eating a crustless PB&J.

The robot sips at an oil drum.

JGL stews over necrotic stew.

”Robot, did you know that Rogers produce 4.8% of the world’s dinner conversation?”

”INTERESTING! TELL ME MORE!”

”That’s actually all I know on that subject.”

”...OH.”


”So, my boyfriend Craig, who’s a hand model, but could totally do ears if ear modelling wasn’t a meritocracy…”

”W-W-Wait, Autumn!” Jake waves his  Wetzel’s pretzel. ”Y-y-you’ve t-t-told the same story s-s-seven times…”

…Autumn’s bottom-lip quivers.

”…AndI l-l-love it every t-t-time! B-b-but, how’d y-y-you come to o-o-occupy th-th-this r-r-robot?”

”...Oh. This robot was once THE party-mall-robot! He was super-funny! He had a Spencer’s Gifts!”

“People would go in-and-out of him all-the-time!”

”W-w-wow!”

“And vice-versa, HE would go in-and-out of people all-the-time! He was a LOVE MACHINE!”

…Jake’s face reddens.

”Then, some guy named Thaddeus opened a different party-mall-robot! With TWO Spencer’s Gifts! So, he swore revenge against all Thaddeuses… err… Thaddei? And it’s ALLLLLLLLLL he talks about! … Could you imagine someone saying the same stuff over-and-over-and-over-and-over-and-ov-”

”I g-g-got it!”

”That drove all the cool people that once entered him away! So, he rejected the world and threw away his robodick!”

”His wh-wh-what!?”

”He swore no one would ever get pleasure from him again! So, he hid his love rocket and now, instead of an Intel processor, he runs on an INCEL processor.”

”G-g-golly! B-b-but, wh-wh-why are y-y-YOU here, Autumn?!”

”Oh, I’m just riding him to Championshipville.”

”Ch-ch-championshipville?”

“Ugh… It’s the one place Daddy’s money can’t buy a ticket to.” Autumn scoffs. ”Just because you have to ‘EARN IT’ Which is actually discriminatory against people like me who DON’T LIKE TO WORK OR DO NEW THINGS! But, N-B-D! So long as I stay and the robot never re-inserts his love rocket, which is just over there at Sbarro, I’m headed to Championshipville!”

”S-S-Sbarro?”

”The only place in the RobotMall the light doesn’t touch!”

[Image: r3ol5cv6pr581.jpg?width=640&crop=smart&a...3ebf81a218]

”But, enough about things that aren’t me!” Autumn chatters, while texting… ”So, I was with Vanessa at a movie premiere, and this guy, above-average attractive, but NOT like ‘hawt’, said, “Ma’am, please don’t text during the film” and I was like “Uhhh, please don’t talk during ‘I have a boyfriend’?” Like, riiiiiiight?”


…

”Sid?”

Autumn glances up.

…As Jake sprints outta Sbarro with a Large Fire-Red robot-dick!

”Come back! Did I tell you about Craig?!?”

Jake shimmies down the hole!

”HE COULD BE AN EAR MODEL!”


”YOUR DINNER CHATTER WAS SUBPAR! FOR THAT YOU MUST DIE!”

The robot chucks a merch booth!

Roger narrowly dodges!!

”KILL ALL ROG-”

Fwoom! Jake flops outta the Robot’s hole…

Wielding a Fire-Red Robot Dick!

”Where did you get that, Jake Borden?”

”Sb-Sb-Sbarro! Q-Q-Quick! W-w-we’ve gotta get this ph-ph-phallus in that o-o-orifice!”

The two move as one!

Gripping the rod like a battering ram!

The robot swings rapidly!

They dodge!

Dive!

DICK!

”NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The dick clicks into the port!

”I FEEL…”

…The Red Robot…

”WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLE!”

Turns Pink!


Roger, sitting bedside, closes a storybook.

”And that explains the birds and bees!”

…Under the covers, Jake Borden looks… horrified.

Roger reaches into Jake’s pocket.

Retrieves his list.

And checks…

“Father-son birds-bees chat”

”Thank you for listening to my tale.”]]> “Hello everybody my name is Roger and it is truly a dream come true of mine to be here with you today, because last night I had a dream of being with you today and now here I am at the first ever JOSEPH-AND-ROGER-CON. We will be kicking off today’s festivities with a panel of Qs and also of As, where the ‘Q’ stands for ‘Questions’ and the ‘A’ stands for 'Answer’. Does anybody have a Q in need of Aing? Yes, you there?”

A man leans into a microphone before the audience.

”Yes, my Q is… what’s so amazing about foggy London?”

FWISH! Beside the stage, a portal opens! From it storms Roger’s half-brother - master necromancer, Hollywood man of sex, and pretty good glassblower, that bitch Joseph Gordon-Levitt.

“I thought we agreed to let the other Rogers and Josephs do all the panels?”

“Right… err, yes. Please direct all Roger-related Qs in need of As to the other Roger panellist. I love you all, and if you see any time-travelling assassins - remember they are easily fooled by ruses involving X-Bux. Ciao!”

Roger and that bitch Joseph Gordon-Levitt step through the portal, leaving the panel to…

[Image: 614183013_highres.jpg]

”Hello my name is Roger Federer and when I first came to London, someone said ‘Roger you’re good at tennis could you win Wimbledon’ and I said what’s Wimbledon, and he said ‘wimble-down-on-deez-nuts’...”


The portal takes Roger and his half-brother to the center of a bustling auditorium!

JOSEPH-AND-ROGER-CON

Josephs Welcome!

(Rogers tolerated)


“This might be the best JOSEPH-AND-ROGER-CON anyone has ever thrown. At least top three. I have met so many nice Rogers like Roger Ferrari that we left back there and I even met a Joseph who was very good at cuddling and if I had to arrange everyone I’ve met into a tier lis–”

“Just remember, this is all a charade. Our purpose isn't fraternizing.”

”...Tisn’t?”

”T’ain’t!”

Roger grins. JGL exhales, knowing he just said ‘taint’.

“This is the culmination of our mission to stop who’s murdering all the Rogers/Josephs!!”

“That's pretty good thinking for an evil whore of a human being. If we gather all the Rogers and the Josephs in the same place, they’ll be far saf–”

“The mysterious force won’t be able to resist coming here to kill them!!” JGL fiendishly wrings his hands. ”It’s a honeypot!”

“Oh bother, I forgot to bring my honey dipper! Is there enough honey to go round? I love honey though I prefer it in jars rather than po–”

”H-H-Hey!”

Jake Borden approaches, sporting a convention t-shirt reading ‘PROUD FATHER OF A ROGER’!

”R-R-Roger!”

Many convention attendees turn around.

”Me?” A dozen-and-a-half say in unison.

”Er… w-w-what-I-mean-is…”

”Jake Borden! My cherished friend and also future biological father in the past - but not the past that you’re from; a different past that hasn’t happened yet!”

Jake side-steps through many confused Rogers to his Roger.

”This c-c-convention is gr-gr-great! I-I-I’m l-l-learning so m-m-much about R-R-Roger c-c-culture!”

Jake extends a brochure…


”D-d-did you know that R-R-Rogers p-p-produce four-point-EIGHT-percent of the w-w-world’s dinner c-c-conversation?”

”I do now, Jake Borden!”

”A-a-also!” Jake retrieves from his pocket…

A somewhat-melted Roger-Ebert-shaped ice-cream treat!

Jake gives it to Roger!

”A delicious icy face! Thank you Jake Borden but also… why Jake Borden?”

”W-w-well… a-a-after we s-s-saw f-f-future me… er… b-b-bedding y-y-your m-m-mother… and y-y-you were s-s-surprised, I-I-I r-r-realized f-f-future m-m-me must not have b-b-been around!”

Jake flips the pamphlet, where he’s scrawled a crude checklist.

”M-m-maybe we c-c-could do things P-P-Papa Borden and I did! Like‘spl-spl-split ice-cream’, ‘c-c-carry y-y-you on my sh-sh-shoulders’ and…”

Jake dry-swallows. ”Sp-sp-speaking of b-b-bedding, should we d-d-discuss the… er… b-b-birds ‘n b-b-b-b…honeybees.”

“I learned lots about birds and about honeybees at camp as a wee Roger on holiday with my dearest mummy along the banks of the river Avon where you and I shall soon do battle together once again. Also, my darling Molly who is fifteen months pregnant with my child told me about how birds and bees also make the sex together.”

”...O-o-oh! Gr-gr-great!”

”...C-c-could you ex-ex-explain it? Y-y-y’know, so I-I-I know you u-understand it.”

”...C-c-cuz I… h-h-have.”

…

”...Done s-s-ssss… ‘intercourse’, I-mean.”

“If I wasn’t the only necromancer here, I’d wish someone would kill me!”

”KILL ALL ROGERS/JOSEPHS!”

WHAM! Bursting through the auditorium’s ceiling…

A FIRE-RED TWENTY-FOOT-TALL ROBOT!

…With a… gaping hole in its… crotch-region.

”D-d-don’t look! You c-c-can see its g-g-genitals!!”

”...Jake Borden, if that’s how your genitals look, we might need to find a doctor Roger before you make the sex with my mummy.”

The Large Robot LANDS! Other Rogers/Josephs flee in pandemonium!

Roger advances, politely averting his gaze from the robot’s… port.

”Hello Robot, my name is Roger an–”

SWAT! The robot punches! Roger dodges backwards (his fourth-favorite direction to travel!)

Jake tumbles rightward!

That bitch Joseph Gordon-Levitt…

Is scooped by the automaton’s massive hand!

”KILL ALL ROGERS/JOSEPHS!”

The necromancer wriggles like only a necromancer can when trapped in a giant robot’s palm!

”I knew you’d come! You’re the Being that’s been killing all Josephs and Rogers?!”

”NO!”

”What?!?”

”I WAS SENT HERE BY THAT BEING! HE-OR-SHE-OR-IT KNEW THIS CONVENTION WAS A HONEYPOT! WHY WOULD THERE BE A ROGER/JOSEPH CONVENTION WHEN THE ROGER/JOSEPH MARKET HAS TRENDED DOWNWARD THE LAST FIVE YEARS?!”

”The whole economy’s down! If you cross-reference industry trends, the Joseph market is overperformi-*OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!”

The robot squeezes that bitch Joseph Gordon-Levitt with all his might! The wicked villain weakly spreads his necromancing hands to resurrect his crushed spine… But, he’s struggling!

Meanwhile, behind a ‘Roger Goodell’ merchandise booth, Jake and Roger scope the robot’s backside!

Roger grabs a football!

”O-o-oh! Gr-gr-great idea! I-I-I’ll t-t-teach you to th-th-throw a spiral!”

Roger HUCKS the football toward the robot!

A PERFECT SPIRAL!

”O-o-oh…” Jake disappointedly crosses that off his father-son activities list.

The ball rockets like a rocket-propelled rocket made of rockets!

…BUT! It harmlessly bounces off the robot’s exterior!

The robot turns around!

Roger clears his throat.

”Hello Robot my name is Roger and did you say you are not the one killing all Rogers and Josephs?”

”CORRECT! I WAS HIRED TO KILL ROGERS-AND-JOSEPHS ONLY TODAY!”

”O-o-oh! S-s-so you’re n-n-not a m-m-murderous m-m-machination?”

“NO. I AM. BUT MY ACTUAL MISSION IS TO KILL ALL THADDEUSES.”

“Oh… well there's nobody here named that. There's just Roger, and Joseph, and Roger, and Roger, and Joseph, and Joseph, and Roger, and of course there's daddy Jake Borden.”

Jake quickly scribbles ‘daddy Jake Borden’ in a book titled ‘birds and bees’ to keep track of what he might do when he makes the sex with Roger’s mummy in the future-past.

ZAP!

Necromantic bolts shoot off from the Robot’s hand and that bitch Joseph Gordon-Levitt falls to the ground. He begins speaking in tongues, sending all sorts of evil magic at the robot, distracting him.

“Jake Borden, we need to find a way to stop this loveless robot!”

“W-w-well he h-h-has a b-b-big h-hole in his c-c-crotch.”

“My gosh, Jake Borden, you must be one of the cleverest people that has ever lived!”

Jake blushes proudly.

“Let’s go!”

Roger pulls Jake by the hand! They sneak closer to where the Robot deflects that bitch Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s blasts.

“I-I-I'll b-boo-boost y-you u-u-u–”

“No! Up is my least-favorite direction to travel! You'll have to climb my shoulders!”

Jake forlornly crosses another item from his list as Roger gets down on his knees!

Borden ascends!

But even with all Roger’s might, Jake… actually seems to drop further downward, completely unlifted!

“I'm not strong enough…”

“I-I bel-bel-believe in you.”

That does the trick. Roger powers Jake up the robot’s crotchhole!

“Godspeed, Jake Borden! You are the bravest man I know!”


Jake scurries up the robot-hole…

”Th-th-this exhaust p-p-port is e-e-exhaus…exhaaaa…er, I’m t-t-tired!”

Finally, Jake exits the exit! Into…

…A large mall?

”...And I th-th-thought he looked b-b-big from o-o-outside…”

The mall’s barren…

…Except one blonde, talking on a cellphone.

”So, this guy approaches Vanessa and I, like ‘ma’am, do you have the time?’ and I said ‘uhhhhhh, no time for YOU! We have boyfriends who are rich an-”

…

”What do you MEEEEEEAN, you know this story already?!?”

…

”You were there? Vanessa, that doesn't mean you can tell me you’ve heard the story! You’re saying I’m repetitive! And repetitive means basic!!”

”E-e-excuse me!”

”I’m ON the PHONE! How dare you spea-”

…The blonde spins… eyeing Jake up-and-down.

”Ohmigawd, I luuuuuv your hair!” The blonde prods Jake’s fluff. ”Like, what IS this?”

”A m-m-mullet, m-m-ma’am!”

”Vaness’, I found a new sister who doesn’t think I’m basic! K-thx-baiiiiiii!”

Click.

”S-s-sister?!? I-I-I’m a m-m-m…er, boy!”

The blonde drags Jake by the hand.

”Let’s hit the foodcourt! I’m buying! My daddy is rich!”

Jake dry-swallows. ”O-o-oh! I-I-I h-h-hope R-R-Roger’s k-k-keepin’ that robot b-b-busy!”


MID-BATTLE DINNER BREAK


Roger, JGL and the robot sit at a table.

Roger’s eating a crustless PB&J.

The robot sips at an oil drum.

JGL stews over necrotic stew.

”Robot, did you know that Rogers produce 4.8% of the world’s dinner conversation?”

”INTERESTING! TELL ME MORE!”

”That’s actually all I know on that subject.”

”...OH.”


”So, my boyfriend Craig, who’s a hand model, but could totally do ears if ear modelling wasn’t a meritocracy…”

”W-W-Wait, Autumn!” Jake waves his  Wetzel’s pretzel. ”Y-y-you’ve t-t-told the same story s-s-seven times…”

…Autumn’s bottom-lip quivers.

”…AndI l-l-love it every t-t-time! B-b-but, how’d y-y-you come to o-o-occupy th-th-this r-r-robot?”

”...Oh. This robot was once THE party-mall-robot! He was super-funny! He had a Spencer’s Gifts!”

“People would go in-and-out of him all-the-time!”

”W-w-wow!”

“And vice-versa, HE would go in-and-out of people all-the-time! He was a LOVE MACHINE!”

…Jake’s face reddens.

”Then, some guy named Thaddeus opened a different party-mall-robot! With TWO Spencer’s Gifts! So, he swore revenge against all Thaddeuses… err… Thaddei? And it’s ALLLLLLLLLL he talks about! … Could you imagine someone saying the same stuff over-and-over-and-over-and-over-and-ov-”

”I g-g-got it!”

”That drove all the cool people that once entered him away! So, he rejected the world and threw away his robodick!”

”His wh-wh-what!?”

”He swore no one would ever get pleasure from him again! So, he hid his love rocket and now, instead of an Intel processor, he runs on an INCEL processor.”

”G-g-golly! B-b-but, wh-wh-why are y-y-YOU here, Autumn?!”

”Oh, I’m just riding him to Championshipville.”

”Ch-ch-championshipville?”

“Ugh… It’s the one place Daddy’s money can’t buy a ticket to.” Autumn scoffs. ”Just because you have to ‘EARN IT’ Which is actually discriminatory against people like me who DON’T LIKE TO WORK OR DO NEW THINGS! But, N-B-D! So long as I stay and the robot never re-inserts his love rocket, which is just over there at Sbarro, I’m headed to Championshipville!”

”S-S-Sbarro?”

”The only place in the RobotMall the light doesn’t touch!”

[Image: r3ol5cv6pr581.jpg?width=640&crop=smart&a...3ebf81a218]

”But, enough about things that aren’t me!” Autumn chatters, while texting… ”So, I was with Vanessa at a movie premiere, and this guy, above-average attractive, but NOT like ‘hawt’, said, “Ma’am, please don’t text during the film” and I was like “Uhhh, please don’t talk during ‘I have a boyfriend’?” Like, riiiiiiight?”


…

”Sid?”

Autumn glances up.

…As Jake sprints outta Sbarro with a Large Fire-Red robot-dick!

”Come back! Did I tell you about Craig?!?”

Jake shimmies down the hole!

”HE COULD BE AN EAR MODEL!”


”YOUR DINNER CHATTER WAS SUBPAR! FOR THAT YOU MUST DIE!”

The robot chucks a merch booth!

Roger narrowly dodges!!

”KILL ALL ROG-”

Fwoom! Jake flops outta the Robot’s hole…

Wielding a Fire-Red Robot Dick!

”Where did you get that, Jake Borden?”

”Sb-Sb-Sbarro! Q-Q-Quick! W-w-we’ve gotta get this ph-ph-phallus in that o-o-orifice!”

The two move as one!

Gripping the rod like a battering ram!

The robot swings rapidly!

They dodge!

Dive!

DICK!

”NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The dick clicks into the port!

”I FEEL…”

…The Red Robot…

”WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLE!”

Turns Pink!


Roger, sitting bedside, closes a storybook.

”And that explains the birds and bees!”

…Under the covers, Jake Borden looks… horrified.

Roger reaches into Jake’s pocket.

Retrieves his list.

And checks…

“Father-son birds-bees chat”

”Thank you for listening to my tale.”]]> <![CDATA['Micheal Graves' in: "The People's Exercise System!"]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48707 Fri, 28 Mar 2025 21:24:15 -0700 Mark Flynn]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48707 Previously…

Damian, the Vampire Council’s leader, delivered a proposal to XWF Union Co-President ‘Micheal Graves’...

Surrender XWF’s frequently-dead-and-resurrected Richard Powers to the Council…

To breed new Vampires by drawing the necromantic magics from Powers’ body!

In exchange, the Council would ensure success for ‘Graves’’s pro-labor movement.

’Graves’ weighed his dream against Powers’s life…

Powers opposed ‘Graves’, but was under Union protection.

Responding to the proposal…

‘Graves’ delivered a middle-finger to Damian’s face.


”...So… the bargain?”

”...Ohhhhhh. Not clear enough for ya?”

BOOM! Second middle-finger.

…

”Is this a… mortal gesture?”

”...Yeah.” ‘Graves’ coughs, miming re-holstering his fingers. ”It means ‘fuck yourself’.”

”And a healthy evening of self-pleasure to you too. Now, my proposal…”

”...Ir-dawg!” …’Graves’ turns to his Flynn’s #1 fan. ”Cómo se dice ‘eat shit’ in Vampire?”

”...Oh!” Irwin raises two fingers, palm inward. ”Perhaps the European middle-finger?”

…’Graves’ mimics Irwin’s gesture.

”Dame, what’s that to ya?”

”...Two?”

”...Darn…”

”What-to-do…” ‘Graves’ swipes his thumb against the Dark Warrior mask’s mouth…

”GASP! Do you bite your thumb at me, sir?”

”...What? I’m bitin’ my thumb, thinkin’...”

”Do you quarrel, sir?” Damian retrieves a glove from his waistcoast…

”YES! We’re QUARRELING!” Flynn grins, relieved. ”Finally, we’re on the same pa-”

WHAP! Dame’s glove slaps ‘Graves’’s cheek!

”...Ohhhhh…” ‘Graves’ sniffs. ”I’m *actually* gonna murder you.”

”Reconsider, Graves. As I told your co-President Flynn, I’m beyond your mortal thinking capacity. Opposing me? Means your mortal movement’s demise.”

…’Graves’ snorts.

”Listen, prick. I’ve spent my CAREER out-planning EVERY OPPONENT I’VE HAD!”

”You’re not my richest adversary. Not the first immortal one. You’re just the NEXT one.”

“I guaran-GODDAMN-tee you, I'm your match in meticulousness!”

“There’s not ONE detail I’d ever forget!”

“EVER!”


‘Graves’, Irwin, and NorthKoreanWarBaby, (worn by ‘Graves’ in a papoose) exit Flynn’s ‘Graves’’s Damian’s storage unit, holding boxes.

”...Didja forget Damian bought your unit so he could ent-”

”YES, I FORGOT, THANKS IRWIN.”


NEXT DAY


Hotel conference room.

”Alright!” ‘Graves’ paces! “Those vamps want Richie Used-to-be-Rich. But, the Union ain’t leavin’ any member unprotected!”

Seated between Gravy’s students, Miss Furry and Peter Parkor, Irwin raises his hand.

”Irmano?”

”Doesn’t XWF already have security? Tommy Gunn can keep Powers secure, right?”

…

”HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” ‘Graves’ and Irwin cackle together.

”...I don’t get it…” Furry mews...

”ENOUGH JOKES!” ‘Graves’ approaches a dry-erase board. ”Obviously, only WE can stop those bloodsuckers from sucking Powers!”

”Plan’s simple…”

[Image: abstract-surface-textures-white-concrete...0-8189.png]


“Us four versus all them.”

“Brilliant! Those vampires will regret coming (cat)calling!”

Irwin… dry-swallows.

”Mister Fl-...‘Graves’... Is this the best plan?”

”Don’t question Master Graves, Honorary-Student Irwin! Obviously, his plan’s purrrrrrfection!”

”The plan’s shit… now.”

”...As I said, Master’s plan will *soon* be flawless!”

”Currently, the flaws are…”

‘Graves’ flicks Furry’s muffintop. ”One...”

‘Graves’ waves in Parkor’s face.

…He’s unconscious.

”Two…”

‘Graves’ taps Irwin’s flat bicep. ”Three.”

”…Hurtful, but yes.”

”Wanna protect the XWF from vampires? We gotta be in PEAK PHYSICAL CONDITION!”

Furry’s hand raises!

”Yes, Catlady?”

”Let’s purrrrrrrchase a #VilaroFit subscription!”

”...#VilaroFit?”

”The ultimate fitness service, Master! Millions of subscribers nationwide!”

”FEH! Commercialized TRIPE! #VilaroFit is a parasite… A VAMPIRE! Sucking subscription fees from worker’s pockets! An app DESIGNED to keep you out-of-shape FOREVER!!”

”Fitness was once FREE! Pushups, situps, running! Untainted by commercial enterprise, untouched by FAT-CATS!”

”…That term’s offensive to me...”

”Then, corporations tricked us into thinking fitness required SPENDING! Home-gym equipment! Wearable fitness-trackers!”

”Ohhhh, I’m getting into fitness! I gained ten pounds, but I spent TWELVE-HUNDRED DOLLARS!”

”Now? We’ve reached new lows of capitalistic depravity! Yoga-pants-wearing MORONS sit in multi-million-dollar studio/gyms… Telling you to do pushups and situps…”

“THINGS YOU COULD DO WITHOUT PAYING A DIME.”

”Marisol Vilaro’s a billionaire’s daughter, shamelessly spinning nationwide obesity into her fatted calf!”

…

”No. We WON’T use ‘#VilaroFit’.”

”We’ll use MY exercise program.”

”Wonderful!”

”Designed by Mark Flynn.”

”...Boooooo.”


”Out-of-shape?”

“Tried everything else?!?”

”Need an exercise system you CAN’T quit?!?”

Flynn approaches a table, where a sheet covers something…

”I’m Mark Flynn!”

”And I’m GIVING AWAY the SECRET that’s made me the SHARPEST and FITTEST I’ve been in my MULT-DECADE wrestling career!”

Flynn reveals…

NorthKoreanWarBaby in a bouncer!

”This is my son!”

”And this… is #DadFitness!”


”#DadFitness! The ultimate regimen!”

”Your child will FORCE YOU into top physical shape! With exercises like…”

”Uppies!” Flynn gently bicep-curls a swaddled, smiling NKWB.

”Bouncing!” Flynn does knee-lifts whilst holding NKWB!


”#DadFitness isn’t just strength! It’s also... 

"Physical dexterity!”

Irwin wields a stopwatch…

Flynn holds a fresh diaper… NKWB lies before him.

”BEGIN!”

Nigh-instantly, Flynn swipes NKWB’s diaper, wipes the boy spotless, applies petroleum, replaces the diaper…

CLICK!

”SIX SECONDS!”


”Mental dexterity!”

”WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

Miss Furry squirms as NKWB sobs!

”...How’s this wrestling training…?”

”In wrestling, your opponent won’t TELL you his weaknesses! Ya gotta read his body language!”

Flynn points!

”This infant’s your opponent! He CAN’T tell you his needs! READ HIM!”

Furry scans the table’s contents.

Pacifiers, rattles, bottles…

Furry eyes NKWB…

He’s chewing his left hand!

”He’s hungry!”

Furry grabs the bot-

WAP! NKWB kicks the bottle away!

”Tsk-tsk!” Flynn chooses the pacifier…

NKWB’s pacified!


”Timing!”

Flynn holds a metronome!

”Don’t miss a beat! If you don’t rock him in four-four time, he’ll awaken!”

Parkor’s unconscious in a rocking-chair, NKWB’s peacefully napping on his lap.

”PERFECT!”


”Best part about #DadFitness?”

“No purchase necessary!”

”In nine months, your exercise tool arrives, FREE-OF-CHARGE*!”


NKWB sits on a spinning platform, chewing his right hand.

”Does your workout equipment GROW? As you get stronger, he gets bigger! Pushing you harder!”

Furry creeps forward, extending NKWB’s pacifier…

WHAP! NKWB bats it away!

Flynn slides a bottle to NKWB’s lips!

He feeds happily!


”You can ignore a #VilaroFitness video for-EVER!”

”It’s LITERALLY ILLEGAL to neglect your baby!”


”Our system doesn’t rely on gratuitous nudity to move product!”

Cut to Vilaro cutting a promo, naked in her bathtub.

”Talk about ‘fatherless’ behavior!”


Furry stands before NKWB…

”WAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

”HE’S TELLING YOU EVERYTHING! READ HIM! ”

Furry inhales…

…NKWB’s belly shakes!

”That’s it!”

Furry’s hands…

Pats NKWB’s back!

”*Buuuuuuuuuuuurp*”

…NKWB smiles.

Flynn pats Furry’s shoulder.

”Full of hot air! Just like Vilaro!”


”#DadFitness! The People’s Exercise System!”]]> Previously…

Damian, the Vampire Council’s leader, delivered a proposal to XWF Union Co-President ‘Micheal Graves’...

Surrender XWF’s frequently-dead-and-resurrected Richard Powers to the Council…

To breed new Vampires by drawing the necromantic magics from Powers’ body!

In exchange, the Council would ensure success for ‘Graves’’s pro-labor movement.

’Graves’ weighed his dream against Powers’s life…

Powers opposed ‘Graves’, but was under Union protection.

Responding to the proposal…

‘Graves’ delivered a middle-finger to Damian’s face.


”...So… the bargain?”

”...Ohhhhhh. Not clear enough for ya?”

BOOM! Second middle-finger.

…

”Is this a… mortal gesture?”

”...Yeah.” ‘Graves’ coughs, miming re-holstering his fingers. ”It means ‘fuck yourself’.”

”And a healthy evening of self-pleasure to you too. Now, my proposal…”

”...Ir-dawg!” …’Graves’ turns to his Flynn’s #1 fan. ”Cómo se dice ‘eat shit’ in Vampire?”

”...Oh!” Irwin raises two fingers, palm inward. ”Perhaps the European middle-finger?”

…’Graves’ mimics Irwin’s gesture.

”Dame, what’s that to ya?”

”...Two?”

”...Darn…”

”What-to-do…” ‘Graves’ swipes his thumb against the Dark Warrior mask’s mouth…

”GASP! Do you bite your thumb at me, sir?”

”...What? I’m bitin’ my thumb, thinkin’...”

”Do you quarrel, sir?” Damian retrieves a glove from his waistcoast…

”YES! We’re QUARRELING!” Flynn grins, relieved. ”Finally, we’re on the same pa-”

WHAP! Dame’s glove slaps ‘Graves’’s cheek!

”...Ohhhhh…” ‘Graves’ sniffs. ”I’m *actually* gonna murder you.”

”Reconsider, Graves. As I told your co-President Flynn, I’m beyond your mortal thinking capacity. Opposing me? Means your mortal movement’s demise.”

…’Graves’ snorts.

”Listen, prick. I’ve spent my CAREER out-planning EVERY OPPONENT I’VE HAD!”

”You’re not my richest adversary. Not the first immortal one. You’re just the NEXT one.”

“I guaran-GODDAMN-tee you, I'm your match in meticulousness!”

“There’s not ONE detail I’d ever forget!”

“EVER!”


‘Graves’, Irwin, and NorthKoreanWarBaby, (worn by ‘Graves’ in a papoose) exit Flynn’s ‘Graves’’s Damian’s storage unit, holding boxes.

”...Didja forget Damian bought your unit so he could ent-”

”YES, I FORGOT, THANKS IRWIN.”


NEXT DAY


Hotel conference room.

”Alright!” ‘Graves’ paces! “Those vamps want Richie Used-to-be-Rich. But, the Union ain’t leavin’ any member unprotected!”

Seated between Gravy’s students, Miss Furry and Peter Parkor, Irwin raises his hand.

”Irmano?”

”Doesn’t XWF already have security? Tommy Gunn can keep Powers secure, right?”

…

”HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” ‘Graves’ and Irwin cackle together.

”...I don’t get it…” Furry mews...

”ENOUGH JOKES!” ‘Graves’ approaches a dry-erase board. ”Obviously, only WE can stop those bloodsuckers from sucking Powers!”

”Plan’s simple…”

[Image: abstract-surface-textures-white-concrete...0-8189.png]


“Us four versus all them.”

“Brilliant! Those vampires will regret coming (cat)calling!”

Irwin… dry-swallows.

”Mister Fl-...‘Graves’... Is this the best plan?”

”Don’t question Master Graves, Honorary-Student Irwin! Obviously, his plan’s purrrrrrfection!”

”The plan’s shit… now.”

”...As I said, Master’s plan will *soon* be flawless!”

”Currently, the flaws are…”

‘Graves’ flicks Furry’s muffintop. ”One...”

‘Graves’ waves in Parkor’s face.

…He’s unconscious.

”Two…”

‘Graves’ taps Irwin’s flat bicep. ”Three.”

”…Hurtful, but yes.”

”Wanna protect the XWF from vampires? We gotta be in PEAK PHYSICAL CONDITION!”

Furry’s hand raises!

”Yes, Catlady?”

”Let’s purrrrrrrchase a #VilaroFit subscription!”

”...#VilaroFit?”

”The ultimate fitness service, Master! Millions of subscribers nationwide!”

”FEH! Commercialized TRIPE! #VilaroFit is a parasite… A VAMPIRE! Sucking subscription fees from worker’s pockets! An app DESIGNED to keep you out-of-shape FOREVER!!”

”Fitness was once FREE! Pushups, situps, running! Untainted by commercial enterprise, untouched by FAT-CATS!”

”…That term’s offensive to me...”

”Then, corporations tricked us into thinking fitness required SPENDING! Home-gym equipment! Wearable fitness-trackers!”

”Ohhhh, I’m getting into fitness! I gained ten pounds, but I spent TWELVE-HUNDRED DOLLARS!”

”Now? We’ve reached new lows of capitalistic depravity! Yoga-pants-wearing MORONS sit in multi-million-dollar studio/gyms… Telling you to do pushups and situps…”

“THINGS YOU COULD DO WITHOUT PAYING A DIME.”

”Marisol Vilaro’s a billionaire’s daughter, shamelessly spinning nationwide obesity into her fatted calf!”

…

”No. We WON’T use ‘#VilaroFit’.”

”We’ll use MY exercise program.”

”Wonderful!”

”Designed by Mark Flynn.”

”...Boooooo.”


”Out-of-shape?”

“Tried everything else?!?”

”Need an exercise system you CAN’T quit?!?”

Flynn approaches a table, where a sheet covers something…

”I’m Mark Flynn!”

”And I’m GIVING AWAY the SECRET that’s made me the SHARPEST and FITTEST I’ve been in my MULT-DECADE wrestling career!”

Flynn reveals…

NorthKoreanWarBaby in a bouncer!

”This is my son!”

”And this… is #DadFitness!”


”#DadFitness! The ultimate regimen!”

”Your child will FORCE YOU into top physical shape! With exercises like…”

”Uppies!” Flynn gently bicep-curls a swaddled, smiling NKWB.

”Bouncing!” Flynn does knee-lifts whilst holding NKWB!


”#DadFitness isn’t just strength! It’s also... 

"Physical dexterity!”

Irwin wields a stopwatch…

Flynn holds a fresh diaper… NKWB lies before him.

”BEGIN!”

Nigh-instantly, Flynn swipes NKWB’s diaper, wipes the boy spotless, applies petroleum, replaces the diaper…

CLICK!

”SIX SECONDS!”


”Mental dexterity!”

”WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

Miss Furry squirms as NKWB sobs!

”...How’s this wrestling training…?”

”In wrestling, your opponent won’t TELL you his weaknesses! Ya gotta read his body language!”

Flynn points!

”This infant’s your opponent! He CAN’T tell you his needs! READ HIM!”

Furry scans the table’s contents.

Pacifiers, rattles, bottles…

Furry eyes NKWB…

He’s chewing his left hand!

”He’s hungry!”

Furry grabs the bot-

WAP! NKWB kicks the bottle away!

”Tsk-tsk!” Flynn chooses the pacifier…

NKWB’s pacified!


”Timing!”

Flynn holds a metronome!

”Don’t miss a beat! If you don’t rock him in four-four time, he’ll awaken!”

Parkor’s unconscious in a rocking-chair, NKWB’s peacefully napping on his lap.

”PERFECT!”


”Best part about #DadFitness?”

“No purchase necessary!”

”In nine months, your exercise tool arrives, FREE-OF-CHARGE*!”


NKWB sits on a spinning platform, chewing his right hand.

”Does your workout equipment GROW? As you get stronger, he gets bigger! Pushing you harder!”

Furry creeps forward, extending NKWB’s pacifier…

WHAP! NKWB bats it away!

Flynn slides a bottle to NKWB’s lips!

He feeds happily!


”You can ignore a #VilaroFitness video for-EVER!”

”It’s LITERALLY ILLEGAL to neglect your baby!”


”Our system doesn’t rely on gratuitous nudity to move product!”

Cut to Vilaro cutting a promo, naked in her bathtub.

”Talk about ‘fatherless’ behavior!”


Furry stands before NKWB…

”WAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

”HE’S TELLING YOU EVERYTHING! READ HIM! ”

Furry inhales…

…NKWB’s belly shakes!

”That’s it!”

Furry’s hands…

Pats NKWB’s back!

”*Buuuuuuuuuuuurp*”

…NKWB smiles.

Flynn pats Furry’s shoulder.

”Full of hot air! Just like Vilaro!”


”#DadFitness! The People’s Exercise System!”]]> <![CDATA[THE BLACK RAINBOW]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48706 Fri, 28 Mar 2025 18:32:30 -0700 gorgo]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48706 [Image: the-black-rainbow.webp]
T H E  B L A C K  R A I N B O W
S Y N O P S I S
After agreeing to become the Vessel of the primordial entity Vorazd, Yelena begins her work building The Black Rainbow, a cult to take over the XWF, professional wrestling, and beyond.

R A T E D  R  F O R
VIOLENCE
POSSESSION
]]> [Image: the-black-rainbow.webp]
T H E  B L A C K  R A I N B O W
S Y N O P S I S
After agreeing to become the Vessel of the primordial entity Vorazd, Yelena begins her work building The Black Rainbow, a cult to take over the XWF, professional wrestling, and beyond.

R A T E D  R  F O R
VIOLENCE
POSSESSION
]]> <![CDATA[An Appearance Most Scarlet (RP for the King's Tourney by Sir Nick Mélon)]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48705 Fri, 28 Mar 2025 17:59:07 -0700 SolemnIncline]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48705 (King's Tourney entry for Sir Nick [b]Mélon)[/b]

Many moons ago, I did roameth the squared circle
I hid mine visage neath an armoured guise
Played at a becoming another
Beneath mine armour, I wast lofty and perilous, a rogue
A wilde beast without equal
Lo, mine own seed hath trod thee very path
Lo, I doth return, the Scarlet Monarch, to partake in merriments anew
I, sir Nicholas, dubbed Caedmon at birth, hath arrived in the year of our lorde, two thousand and twenty five

Cometh I, not for a tussle, not for a feud of blood that runneth colde
Lo, cometh I to herald the coronation of a new regent
Forsooth, it is no time for the Scarlet Reaper, nay, but time for a valiant knight
I remain Sir Nick, of bravery and knavery
Neither thespian nor comandante of the Roman legions am I
I arrive at the Ides, weathered and seasoned
A humble knave hailing from th’ realm of chariots
On th’ very eve that mine child doth prevail
Returneth I, with thee fury of thee gods
To unseat all others upon the path of rivening
From those, their fair equine companions

Lo, notwithstanding many hath cometh heretofore and still many shall cometh thereafter
Naught shall accomplish it with the elegance and finesse of Sir Nick Mélon
Neither former nor erstwhile rivals may light a flame in my radiant presence
I dost possess greater stature, might, wit and allure than all who stand before my countenance
Mine blade dost retain a certain sharpness, as doth mine cognizance
Posthaste, I must prepare and bid thou adieu
Fortune’s favor upon thee]]> (King's Tourney entry for Sir Nick [b]Mélon)[/b]

Many moons ago, I did roameth the squared circle
I hid mine visage neath an armoured guise
Played at a becoming another
Beneath mine armour, I wast lofty and perilous, a rogue
A wilde beast without equal
Lo, mine own seed hath trod thee very path
Lo, I doth return, the Scarlet Monarch, to partake in merriments anew
I, sir Nicholas, dubbed Caedmon at birth, hath arrived in the year of our lorde, two thousand and twenty five

Cometh I, not for a tussle, not for a feud of blood that runneth colde
Lo, cometh I to herald the coronation of a new regent
Forsooth, it is no time for the Scarlet Reaper, nay, but time for a valiant knight
I remain Sir Nick, of bravery and knavery
Neither thespian nor comandante of the Roman legions am I
I arrive at the Ides, weathered and seasoned
A humble knave hailing from th’ realm of chariots
On th’ very eve that mine child doth prevail
Returneth I, with thee fury of thee gods
To unseat all others upon the path of rivening
From those, their fair equine companions

Lo, notwithstanding many hath cometh heretofore and still many shall cometh thereafter
Naught shall accomplish it with the elegance and finesse of Sir Nick Mélon
Neither former nor erstwhile rivals may light a flame in my radiant presence
I dost possess greater stature, might, wit and allure than all who stand before my countenance
Mine blade dost retain a certain sharpness, as doth mine cognizance
Posthaste, I must prepare and bid thou adieu
Fortune’s favor upon thee]]> <![CDATA[Everybody Loves Mari ep1]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48704 Fri, 28 Mar 2025 17:45:17 -0700 Marisol Vilaro]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48704 https://tinyurl.com/EverybodlovesMariEP1]]> https://tinyurl.com/EverybodlovesMariEP1]]> <![CDATA[The Boobs Tube]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48703 Fri, 28 Mar 2025 17:01:16 -0700 Madison Dyson]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48703
A pair of warriors so diametrically offset from one another- one a light-flickering outlaw, who’s ruled the wrestling airwaves with both the smiles of a socialist, and a gypsy, the other a bloodletting wildfire in Gucci boots, lighting her path forward with every bridge she’s burned. On paper, the partnership reads like tragedy. But in practice?

They’re like a random television program you land on while channel surfing expecting nothing, and it happens to be not just decent, but good. Damn good.

Let’s take a moment to appreciate these star-crossed wrestlers, shall we?

Who are some of the biggest names in the XWF today?

Yelena Gorgo? Dolly Waters pinned her to earn this team a shot at the tag titles.

Aurora? Madison Dyson snatched the final tag belt off her hands at Snow Holds Barred, ripping it from the top of the ladder while she and Dolly toppled the hottest tag team in wrestling.

Sebastian Everett- Bryce? Madison Dyson just put his shoulders to the mat on Savage.

Johnny Bachus? Dolly Waters just…






…came up short against him in the main event of Warfare.

Uh oh.

And weirdly, she seems completely unbothered by it.

Double uh oh.

Instead, she’s glowing. Relaxed. While a crow caws outside the window.

She’s lying diagonally across a bed in this damp English hotel room, flipping between unhinged BBC programming and staticy local access. The rain out in the streets of Stratford is falling in sheets. The kind of downpour that turns your vacation into a hostage situation.

Across from her, Madison Dyson lounges on the carpet, sucking down clear liquor through a Twizzlers straw, nursing the soft ache of being emotionally responsible for everyone around her.

Lux, the AI recreation of a future dystopian assassin who lived in Dyson’s brain, and the deputized manager of our starcrossed-team here, is pacing at the window. Radiating enough disapproval to fog the glass.

We should be training.

Not looking up, Madison responds Cool. Go train. Deadlift the hotel minibar or something.

You have another TLC match. Tables. Ladders. Chairs. This time against two other teams. We are in England, not in retirement.

I’m sorry. The rain says we’re on holiday.

What if this is training, Lux? Emotional conditioning. Team synergy. Deep rest.

Deep bullshit. she mutters.

Lux grabs her hoodie and storms out into the hall, bound for the hotel gym… or the roof, if the weather clears and she decides to hurl herself off it instead.

Dolly sighs, Now *she’s* dramatic

A silence falls on the room. Rain tapping against the glass like a gentle reminder. In spite of the weather, in spite of the odds, in spite of all of the forces that have tried to come between them, Dolly and Maddy look… calm. At peace. They’d tell you they’re just “vibing” but that’s not the whole truth.

This is something else.

A respite. A detour. The calm before the match. A moment where the noise dies down and all that’s left are Dolly and Madison. Two women who didn’t expect to find each other… but did. Two rebel stars still burning.

You ever think about what happens after we win?

You mean at Ides of March? I assume we’ll be on a flight with wet socks and at least one concussion.

No, like… after-after. When the novelty wears off. When the crown starts to feel heavier than the ladders we’ve climbed to reach it.

Madison’s mind slips to Dom Strife for a moment, sparing a thought for her young understudies career. She nibbles at her lip, and lets out gentle, almost concerned response

Do you think that’s happening now?

I don’t know. I lost to Bacchus. And I didn’t spiral. Didn’t throw a tantrum or go hex a possum. I just… let it go.

Growth?

Trauma fatigue.

Fair.

They share a quiet laugh,

Madison thinks of Dom again,

You sure you’re… *we’re*, not just finally happy now, Dolly?

Dolly shrugs with a smile,and a sincere glow, and flips the remote

Let's not ruin it.

Static. BBC. A raccoon reading tarot cards. And then…

[Image: aaa4830f02cb57b2b37b00c34ecf7355.gif]


“TACTEN”
(A SHATford Original Production)

The air is laden with tension as the visual takes hold. A stern looking Larry Tact (or a very impressive lookalike) is holding a cell phone to his ear. His jaw works side to side in consternation and his eyes burn with a barely restrained inner fire. And why?

Because his daughter Morgan has been TAKEN. Again.

With a measured coolness born of white hot rage, Larry begins to speak into the phone to Morgan’s kidnappers.

“I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don't have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired over a very long career, skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. Tactilizing skills. I…”

“Wait, hol’ up.”

Larry stops his dramatic monologue short as the kidnapper on the other end of the line cuts in.

“Did you just say….”tantalizing skills”?”

Larry’s brow furrows. He stammers a little despite himself. “Wh-what? No! I said…”

“‘Cuz it definitely sounds like you said “tantalizing skills”.”

Larry frowns deeply, but his further stammering betrays how far he’s fallen off his game. “I…I said TACTILIZING!”

“Yo! Did ya’all hear “tactilzing” or “tantalizing”?”

Another voice on the other side of the line calls out from a distance. “I heard “tantalizing”!”

“See? They heard “tantalizing”.”

“I said tactilizing!!!”

“I mean, why would you even say “tactilizing” in the first place though? That’s a total nonsense word and it sounds gay as fuck.”

A bead of sweat peeks out of Larry’s forehead as he continues to lose his grip. “It’s not GAY! It’s my ANGLE!”

“Well your angle is gay as fuck. Like, what does “tactilizing” even mean?”

Larry’s eyes start to well up with tears, and he tries to sublimate his completely bitch-made urge to cry. “It’s…*chortle*....a play on my name!”

“Yeah, no shit. It still doesn’t make any fuckin’ sense though. Oh wait…” The kidnapper pauses a moment, seemingly distracted, before returning their attention to the call. “Your daughter wants to talk to you.”

Larry wipes his tears as his eyes go wide. “Morgan?! MORGAN! Yes, put her on the phone!”

We hear the phone being jostled as it’s passed off to Larry’s five year old daughter.

“Morgan! It’s daddy! Are you okay?! I swear if they’ve hurt you I’m going to TACTILIZE their asses…”

We can practically hear Morgan’s eyes rolling. “Ugh! Daddy stop saying that it’s gay as fuck.”

“Honey, it’s not gay!”

“Have you won any XWF matches yet, daddy?”

Larry blanches. “Honey, you know daddy is WORKING on that.”

“Daddy you’ve been saying you’ve been working on it for like a whole YEAR! JEEZ!”

“I swear one day I’ll win an important match just give me some time, okay?”

“You know what daddy, I don’t even want to be rescued! God, you’re so EMBARRASSING.”

Larry’s eyes well up again. “Oh Morgan, please don’t say that. You’re hurting daddy’s FEELINGS.”

“Do you know how embarrassing it is to have a dad who lets his daughter get kidnapped every week and can’t even win an XWF match?”

Larry is openly weeping now. “But…but…but! It’s not EVERY week! You totally didn’t get kidnapped last week!”

“Whatever. They have shit loads of ice cream and toys here so I’m gonna go. Bye.”

“Wait! Please don’t go!”

“Go tactilize yourself, daddy.”

The kidnapper chimes in from the background. “Nice shot, Morgan!” We hear the distinctive sound of a high five before the line goes dead. Larry Tact’s dignity vanishes into the ether.

[Image: aaa4830f02cb57b2b37b00c34ecf7355.gif]

Madison blinks at the screen.

My god…

Dolly raises a quizzical eyebrow to Dyson,

...what a DUMB name.

Yeah.. Tact kinda’ sounds like the noise your neck makes with it finally snaps from boredom hanging in some benign noose.

Shouldn’t somebody… be worried about his kid? Obviously he’s not.

Mmm. Only if she’s forced to tag with him. Poor Coey Black

They both laugh, but as the sound of the rain creeps back in, something shifts in Madison’s face. She leans her head back against the foot of the bed, eyes tracing the ceiling as a thought drifts in and sits beside her,

Dolly notices, and smiles knowing…

Yer’ thinking about Dom?

Madison doesn’t answer right away. The subtle hardness of her eyes soften.

He’s just a kid. And he’s good. Like… *good* good. Heart of gold. Calls people ‘ma’am’ and ‘sir’, apologizes-to-the-ring-crew good. If you can believe that shit.  And he’s just trying so damn hard to prove he belongs, y’know?

Madison’s recent involvement with Dom Strife hasn’t been lost on Dolly.

Some might see it as a bad sign. A fracture forming. A future without “Dyson & Waters” written on the marquee. But where others assume resentment, Dolly recognizes something else entirely. A flicker of light.

Faint… but unyielding.

Where some saw Dyson’s embrace of a different tag partner in Strife, Dolly saw Dyson accepting responsibility.

Where some saw Dyson interfering to help Dom win the XTreme Championship as a sordid act, Dolly saw it as Dyson protecting said responsibility. Seeing her step in for Dom at what would’ve been his lowest (losing to Scoops lol), not out of ambition, but instinct.

Like a lioness shielding a cub. Like someone who, after spending a lifetime burning everything around her, finally found something worth saving. Dolly saw Dyson coming to love, and protect something…*anything* other than herself as a reinforcement of this team’s journey.

I’ve spent so much of my life pushing people away. I didn’t realize how fast someone could sneak in when you’re not looking.

You care about him.

...

Dolly’s words hang for a moment. And just then, another voice sounds out.

She does. Lux replies curtly.

They both turn to look at her, surprised by her sudden reappearance.

I thought you went to work out?

Somebody puked on the treadmill so they had to shut it all down for cleaning. she deadpans.

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Madison gets to her feet, looking agitated. Lux, where the fuck do you get off telling people who I do or don’t care about?!

Lux smiles lightly and taps her head. I was in here, remember? She begins, drawing closer to Madison, but not threateningly so. You know, the presence of your son in your subconscious didn’t make sense to me. I figured you didn’t give a shit, so why would Samael even be there? Yeah, it didn’t make sense. Until Dom.

What are you blathering about?

Your guilt complex. Lux answers decisively. Madison screw faces her but Lux proceeds undaunted. I thought you didn’t give a damn about abandoning Samael. But you do, don’t you? It’s clear as day to me now. Your relationship with Dom. You’ve been almost…motherly to him.

Bitch, I reiterate, WHAT. ARE. YOU. BLATHERING. ABOUT?

No, I get what she’s saying! You see Dom almost as a surrogate son, a replacement for the one you, erm, parted ways with. Because all this time, through all these years, you HAVE felt guilt for what happened with Samael. It bothers you. Even if you say it doesn’t. And now you’re trying to undo that mistake with Dom. Dolly opines diplomatically. Maddy, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s…well, it’s human.

Madison shakes her head. You guys are so, soooooo off base here!

Lux and Dolly share a knowing look.

Okay.

Madison quirks an eyebrow. Just “okay”? That’s all you have to say?

Dolly shrugs. Yeah. You’re not ready to accept it yet, and that’s okay.

Madison throws her hands up in the air in frustration. Okay guru. What the fuck ever. Can we just get back to watching TV? I need to take my mind off this psychological destruction you two are inflicting on of me!

Dolly tosses the remote to Dyson, withholding a smirk at her partners trademark theatrics. Madison flips the button, changing the channel from the SHACTilating entertainment they’ve been taking in.

[Image: aaa4830f02cb57b2b37b00c34ecf7355.gif]

There’s VHS type static, and then an amped up shock-jock voiceover.

ARE YOU TIRED OF GRINDING THROUGH LIFE’S MAIN QUEST WITHOUT A SENSE OF JOY?

Cue sweeping orchestral music over scrolling 2d video game footage. A title splashes across the screen:

GAME GIRL: RE-LOADED & REAWAKENED – BARFINEX DELUXE

..only available now using BARNCOIN and only on STEEEAMMMM….

We see Game Girl, her hair tousled, armor dented, a black eye blooming like an onion from Outback. She’s standing on a pixelated mountain as the sun rises behind her.

We hear Game Girl speak (voiced by someone trying to sound 19, but clearly 35)

After twenty years in early access… my heart is finally patched.

A montage rolls… GG helping an NPC farmer harvest mushrooms, GG battling her past selves inside of a mirror realm, GG slow dancing with a cloud of sentient trauma wearing a prom dress.

THAT’S RIGHT, LOSER! IN THIS REMASTER, GAME GIRL DITCHES THE ANGST DLC FOR A NEW MAIN OBJECT: ….FUCKIN OFF FOR FUN!!!

NO MORE BROODING OVER LOST MATCHES. NO MORE GLITCHY SIDE QUESTS LIKE “wHo aM i?” or “WhAt’S tHe PoInT?”

JUST PURE. RADIANT. JOY!!!!

…AND MAYBE A SWORD OF LOVE?

We cut to Game Girl and Game Boy watching over a sunset valley filled with “defeated “ monsters napping peacefully.

“You didn’t beat them… you freed them.” Game Boy says.

I couldn’t beat them. I felt bad about it.

CRITICS ARE CALLING IT:

“POIGNANT” - some academic douche on Reddit

“SURPRISINGLY DECENT FOR HOW OVERPLAYED THESE REHASHES ARE” - Edwin Longfellow Orwell

“GAME OF THE YEAR… maybe” -Scoops McGee, probably.

The commercial fades to black. The logo appears again, this time glowing…

GAME GIRL: BARFINEX DELUXE
Now with 35% fewer existential crises.

(legal text flashing below)

Disclaimer: Game Girl still cries sometimes. That’s okay.

[Image: aaa4830f02cb57b2b37b00c34ecf7355.gif]

The shot pans back from the TV to show our intrepid trio still splayed about the room watching it.

This bitch has been around for over ten years and has literally one title reign to show for it…that happened ten years ago. Like, how the fuck does that happen? You would think that in that time the bitch would have at least won the Xtreme by ACCIDENT, but nope, not even that. Holy hell, what an abject FAILURE of a human being.

Well, she is part time at best.

You’re right. So she half asses when she shows up for work and then quarter asses her actual efforts. Good point, Lux.

Lux turns to Dolly.

How do you do this?

She’s not so bad once you get to know her. Hey Maddy, remote me!

Madison tosses Dolly the remote. She presses the channel button and we are once again whisked into TV land.

[Image: aaa4830f02cb57b2b37b00c34ecf7355.gif]

It’s got all the trappings of an infomercial, and wouldn’t you know it…it IS an infomercial!

The shot settles on a very old decrepit looking man who bears an uncanny resemblance to Scoops McGee. Scoops waves to the crowd before him, which is also composed of geezers and the half dead as they clap their withered hands together and the dead skin cells kick up a cloud of dust. The shot then pans back to Scoops who is standing behind one of those eponymous infomercial desks. 

Scoops McGee here and I know…I know!....*chuckles*....it’s a difficult topic to talk about. But we gotta do it. That topic is…incontinence.

When you get to a certain age like us, why, your rectum just turns into a broken pipe! You could be doing anything, talking on the phone, playing with the grandkids, or, I dunno, soaking up valuable XWF TV time that should go towards performers who aren’t literal zombies, when the unthinkable happens.

Poop. Shit. Feces. The ol’ chocolate slide.

And that’s why I and my crack team of crapgineers have come up with….

Scoops places a large box of adult diapers on the desk.

....Scoops Poops! The adult diaper that’s guaranteed to keep up with your active lifestyle as you rob young deserving talent of precious opportunities so you can satisfy your pathetic ego and stave off thoughts of your own pending mortality! 

But Scoops!

A voice sounds out from off camera. The shot turns to reveal….XWF Legend Centurion! (Or a very convincing clone thereof).

By gosh, it’s Centurion everybody!

The crowd is completely silent.

Scoops, my shits in the ring are absolutely enormous. I can barely get those brown hogs down the toilet at home, so you can only imagine how big they are when I’m mobile. Is Scoops Poops really up to the task?

Why I’ll do better than tell ya, I’ll show ya! Scoops brings out a gallon container of chocolate ice cream with a scoop. Now lets pretend this ice cream is your scat. Scoops pulls a diaper out of the box. Now go ahead and scoop those turds into the diaper.

Centurion scoops out the entire carton of ice cream into the diaper. Scoops then picks it up and walks around the desk and off to stage left where a wrestling ring is set up. Scoops gestures for Centurion to get in the ring and Cent obliges. Scoops gets in the ring after him and slides the pair of ice cream laden briefs on over his jeans.

Now lets RASSLE!

What follows is a solid ten minutes of the most slow motion, arthritic, downright pathetic wrestling contest you can imagine. It naturally ends with Centurion getting pinned because let’s face it, he’s used to that. Scoops then gets to his feet with a grumble and a crack of his back before turning to reveal his posterior to the crowd. Remarkably, the diaper has held up during that deluge of low intensity action!

Wow Scoops! The fecal matter was completely contained by the diaper!

That’s right, Centy! And now, you too can bore wrestling fans to tears by taking precious national exposure away from upcoming stars all to sate your lust for long lost relevance by wearing SCOOPS POOPS! Now available at your local Wal-mart for the low, low price of 10,000 XBux!

The shot cuts to an applause sign blinking, and then to the crowd, who are all completely asleep and/or dead. 

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Back in the room, we see the girls nodding off as the tv remains static. A new program tuning in as their eyes close.

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Shatford Productions Presents:
Coreyo and Juliet

A one-act tragedy… in five acts of trauma

A fade in on a candlelit tomb. Juliet (Dolly, draped in black velvet), mascara smeared beneath her veil, clutching a dagger. She kneels beside the lifeless body of Coreyo Black (Who appears to be Madison in a fake beard… So what? It’s Shakespeare 2025. Women can play men), wearing a crown of foil, draped in leather, eyes shut in melancholy

Coreyo, Coreyo, wherefore art thou Coreyo?

Do thy greatness slumber still? Or merely thine ego recharge?

We’ve waited for so long Coreyo.

She sighs dramatically, looking upon the vial marked “FAKE POISON”

Thou speakth of death, but never truly die…

Instead thou lingereth in monologue, in elegy, in endless Twitter threads of thy own design

She leans in close.

Was I not enough? Was war not enough? Was being overlooked, pinned by Misty, and fifth-picked not enough?

Juliet raises the dagger… which we can clearly distinguish is a plastic prop now.

Forgive me, sweet, tragic Coreyo… I’d rather perish than hear another second of thy trauma-dump. I forbid thy’s return to thee

She plunges the “dagger” into her neck and falls.

Coreyo awakens, gaping, elated. He looks upon Juliet’s dead body.

Ah! A new sorrow! A fresh wound to thines heart!

My favorite paramour lies slain, and I… BEREFT…. Must now narrate her demise in four long acts! Acts of thine same dribble I’ve made a living from!

He throws his head back in anguish as ominous music swells. A crow squawks.

O thy warriors of Ides… gather ‘round, I must tell you all….my truth…


I sucketh.

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Sometimes you flip through channels on the TV, and program after program just flashes by, turning into nothing but fading lights and white noise.

Be it a cheap, done-to-death action flick. Be it niche advertisements, selling old and obsolete products all over again. Or be it a poorly produced knock-off tragedy that drones on and on and on but nothing ever really happens.

But sometimes you flip to a channel that you can’t change.

With a program you can’t keep your eyes off of… because you know something BIG is about to happen.

Just like yer’ REIGNING XWF Tag Team Champions.

Dolly gives Madison a knowing, confident nod

Go ahead and call us dysfunctional. Call us “cobbled together”. Call us strange bedfellows. Call us all of that.

And then go look in the goddamn mirror.

I mean, lets take that clever witticism out behind the tool shed and drop a slug behind its brain right off the bat. Because for as much of an odd couple as it may LOOK like we are, you four are just the same.

Game Girl and Scoops? You’ve teamed together a grand total of ONCE and couldn’t be more diametrically opposed, with one representing youth, vibrancy, and technology and the other being an old fossil who can’t understand why his newfangled laptop won’t run his free AOL disc from 1995.

As for Black and Tact? Hell, maybe you two HAVE teamed together in some backyard trampoline promotion. I can’t be arsed to wade through all that bullshit. But I know you two make for strange bedfellows here and now for the simple fact that Tact is not SEB. You see, Corey Black NEEDS to be SEB’s ball boy because he’s the kind of parasite that only thrives when he’s paired with superior talent. Small problem there though, eh Corey?

I’ve pinned both you AND your dom top Bryce!

Yeah, lets go to town on this for a while, shall we?

Corey, I decimated you and the rest of your team at War Games almost single handedly. Pinfall, after pinfall, after pinfall I put your crew of mediocrities down for the count. And then, a couple months later, I made the entire XWF Universe collectively shit its pants when I pinned Sebastian Everett Bryce. So even if you HAD gotten your top choice in partner, you’d be fucked.

But you didn’t even get that, did you?

No. You got LARRY TACT.

Larry FUCKIN’ Tact.

                       
Imagine being so unlucky.

Imagine being on a heater like Madison is riding, and being partnered with someone who’s won… what? A singular match? Over Sir Lionel Pennyfarthering? Larry SHAT, indeed.

But I guess you don’t really have to worry about that, huh Corey?

Because yer’ on anything but a heater.

Yer’ riding that “welcome back” energy, with a tucked tail and a bruised ego, after falling so hard on yer’ face, you made my deranged memaw Misty a BIG deal. Gee, thanks fer’ being such an inattentive, image driven loser, too busy simping for developmental-league wrestling businesses, that you took yer’ eye off the prize in the only ring that matters. The ring where you, and those you laude, keep getting bested. 

Here’s yer’ welcoming party, Corey. One you don’t really deserve, but one we’re happy to throw.

Tables. Ladders. Chairs.

From the team that just won these belts in the same environment… from someone that SEB drafted higher than you in WarGames. Ouch. Some “king” you are, pal.

Imagine being on a heater like Madison, and getting strapped with Tact, or Black… or worse McGee, and not a twelve time champion in the XWF.

Not a three time tag team champion.

Not a veteran of over a hundred matches in this… the mecca of professional wrestling.

Not someone who’s beaten Game Girl every time they’ve wrestled.

Not the one wrestler who’s proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that she can beat anyone “above her”.

But that’s not something we have to imagine

Because Madison Dyson walks into Ides of March with Dolly Waters.

And we’re the team of happenstance, who just so happens to have y’alls number at every beck and call you’ll try and make.

We’ve each beaten the best of either team we’re facing.

Dolly>GG

Madison>Corey

So fer’ any calls you’ll make about singles results, we’ve already answered those questions a time or two over.

We’re the veterans you’ve known, and not the veterans we’ve only just heard of this year. Not the flakey “kings” floating company to company, crying on social media when we lose.

For all that seems random of our pairing, things that might put myself and Madison at odds, it pales in comparison to how disadvantaged the lot of you are in this match because of the same reasons. That’s because we’re a pairing that works. The channel you can’t turn. A team of destiny.

Tell me I’m a bad person for it now GG…Bad for embarking on this quest with Madison.

Afterall, you drafted who you thought was ME (But was really Misty) to WarGames while “I” (Misty) was tagging with Madison.

You didn’t see a problem with it before… because deep down in yer’ in code you know I’m right.

We’re fighting for something greater, my friend.

The legacy of these championships means more than some random video you doom-scroll past on yer’ phone. Adding to the laundry-list of forgettable, unchallenged champions.

It demands more.

It demands Dyson and Waters.

The champions you can’t afford to look away from.   

Without even looking at Maddy, Dolly hits a blind tag on her, bringing her back into the mix.

Maddy points at herself and Dolly in turn.

This team FUCKS.

She then stabs a finger at the camera.

A combined total of over 30 years in this business. A combined total of over 15 years in the XWF. And I know what you’re thinking Scoops. Your last hip replacement is 30 years old alone. But here’s the brass tacks you withered old hack.

I screwed you out of the XTreme championship because you disgust me. Because my client Dommy-wommy deserved it ten times more than you. Because the fact that only now, as you perch precariously close to death, have you attained ANY sort of relevance. And what relevance you HAVE attained you’ve done so to the detriment of people who are younger, fitter, more exciting, and more talented than you.

And you know that, you geriatric puke! You KNOW THAT.

But you don’t care.

All you care about is keeping that one remaining foot out of the grave, keeping that name on one more set of lips…hoping and praying that even in this, the winter of your existence, that you can grab at one final, tenuous thread of legacy.

Well, fuck that. And fuck YOU. Because I’m making it my personal mission to end the Scoops McGee experiment once and for all. And I’ll have more than my fair share of tools to do it with.

And who’s going to stop me? Game Girl? The part timer’s part timer who shows up for a cheap pop, does nothing of any sort of relevance and disappears back into Super Mario World or what the fuck ever?

Ten years, bitch. TEN FUCKIN’ YEARS. And what do you have to show for it? Some smiles? Some hearts and minds? Honey this is wrestling! Success comes in blood, gold, and broken bones. Not good fee-fees and fun with pixels.

Madison gestures at herself and Dolly again.

This is more than happenstance. More than chaos. This is FATE. This is UNITY. This is everything those tag team championships have been waiting with baited breath for since 2012.

THE team.

THE alliance.

The TWIN BITCHES OF DESTRUCTION.

And it is going to take so, so, much more than the witless clusterfucks that stand before us to unseat FATE itself.
                                                                    
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The rain has stopped.

The television finally clicks off. The static dies.

Dolly’s eyes don't flutter open. They simply rise. She turns and sits upright on the edge of her bed, her hair still damped from sleep’s sweat… the outlines of a warm dream barely brushed from her face.

Across the room, Madison is snoozing. Mouth slightly open, her Twizzler straw still looped between her fingers.

Lux leans against the wall, arms crossed, head tilted. Watching.

Dolly looks down at her own hands. She opens and closes them. Then again.

Something inside of her has shifted. Something true. Something earned.

For a moment it seems her aura is the only thing casting a glow on the room.

I think I get it now she whispers, to no one. …or maybe to everything.

It wasn’t just about winning. Or surviving. Or being vindicated.

It was about connection. Faith. Picking something worth protecting and holding it tight enough to matter.

Dolly breathes out. The air is clean. For maybe the first time ever, she feels… whole.
       
She gets up. Walking barefoot toward the window. The moonlight painting her aura in silver. The streets below silent, but Lux leans in to hear

We’re gonna do it. her voice calm, and certain We’re gonna make it.

And then-

A whisper. More guttural than soft. Male. Not Lux. Not Maddy.

Angel…

It’s Samael.

Dolly turns. Slowly.

No one there.

MY little angel…

It’s not a compliment.

It’s a claim,

Dolly’s face sets hard. The clarity, that confidence, it doesn’t vanish…. It sharpens. Into resolve.

Into war.

She glances toward Madison, still sleeping.

Time to wake up.


she says, raising Madison’s attention without even touching her,


There’s something coming.

And behind her, outside, in the quiet Stratford night…

A single crow caws.]]>
A pair of warriors so diametrically offset from one another- one a light-flickering outlaw, who’s ruled the wrestling airwaves with both the smiles of a socialist, and a gypsy, the other a bloodletting wildfire in Gucci boots, lighting her path forward with every bridge she’s burned. On paper, the partnership reads like tragedy. But in practice?

They’re like a random television program you land on while channel surfing expecting nothing, and it happens to be not just decent, but good. Damn good.

Let’s take a moment to appreciate these star-crossed wrestlers, shall we?

Who are some of the biggest names in the XWF today?

Yelena Gorgo? Dolly Waters pinned her to earn this team a shot at the tag titles.

Aurora? Madison Dyson snatched the final tag belt off her hands at Snow Holds Barred, ripping it from the top of the ladder while she and Dolly toppled the hottest tag team in wrestling.

Sebastian Everett- Bryce? Madison Dyson just put his shoulders to the mat on Savage.

Johnny Bachus? Dolly Waters just…






…came up short against him in the main event of Warfare.

Uh oh.

And weirdly, she seems completely unbothered by it.

Double uh oh.

Instead, she’s glowing. Relaxed. While a crow caws outside the window.

She’s lying diagonally across a bed in this damp English hotel room, flipping between unhinged BBC programming and staticy local access. The rain out in the streets of Stratford is falling in sheets. The kind of downpour that turns your vacation into a hostage situation.

Across from her, Madison Dyson lounges on the carpet, sucking down clear liquor through a Twizzlers straw, nursing the soft ache of being emotionally responsible for everyone around her.

Lux, the AI recreation of a future dystopian assassin who lived in Dyson’s brain, and the deputized manager of our starcrossed-team here, is pacing at the window. Radiating enough disapproval to fog the glass.

We should be training.

Not looking up, Madison responds Cool. Go train. Deadlift the hotel minibar or something.

You have another TLC match. Tables. Ladders. Chairs. This time against two other teams. We are in England, not in retirement.

I’m sorry. The rain says we’re on holiday.

What if this is training, Lux? Emotional conditioning. Team synergy. Deep rest.

Deep bullshit. she mutters.

Lux grabs her hoodie and storms out into the hall, bound for the hotel gym… or the roof, if the weather clears and she decides to hurl herself off it instead.

Dolly sighs, Now *she’s* dramatic

A silence falls on the room. Rain tapping against the glass like a gentle reminder. In spite of the weather, in spite of the odds, in spite of all of the forces that have tried to come between them, Dolly and Maddy look… calm. At peace. They’d tell you they’re just “vibing” but that’s not the whole truth.

This is something else.

A respite. A detour. The calm before the match. A moment where the noise dies down and all that’s left are Dolly and Madison. Two women who didn’t expect to find each other… but did. Two rebel stars still burning.

You ever think about what happens after we win?

You mean at Ides of March? I assume we’ll be on a flight with wet socks and at least one concussion.

No, like… after-after. When the novelty wears off. When the crown starts to feel heavier than the ladders we’ve climbed to reach it.

Madison’s mind slips to Dom Strife for a moment, sparing a thought for her young understudies career. She nibbles at her lip, and lets out gentle, almost concerned response

Do you think that’s happening now?

I don’t know. I lost to Bacchus. And I didn’t spiral. Didn’t throw a tantrum or go hex a possum. I just… let it go.

Growth?

Trauma fatigue.

Fair.

They share a quiet laugh,

Madison thinks of Dom again,

You sure you’re… *we’re*, not just finally happy now, Dolly?

Dolly shrugs with a smile,and a sincere glow, and flips the remote

Let's not ruin it.

Static. BBC. A raccoon reading tarot cards. And then…

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“TACTEN”
(A SHATford Original Production)

The air is laden with tension as the visual takes hold. A stern looking Larry Tact (or a very impressive lookalike) is holding a cell phone to his ear. His jaw works side to side in consternation and his eyes burn with a barely restrained inner fire. And why?

Because his daughter Morgan has been TAKEN. Again.

With a measured coolness born of white hot rage, Larry begins to speak into the phone to Morgan’s kidnappers.

“I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don't have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired over a very long career, skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. Tactilizing skills. I…”

“Wait, hol’ up.”

Larry stops his dramatic monologue short as the kidnapper on the other end of the line cuts in.

“Did you just say….”tantalizing skills”?”

Larry’s brow furrows. He stammers a little despite himself. “Wh-what? No! I said…”

“‘Cuz it definitely sounds like you said “tantalizing skills”.”

Larry frowns deeply, but his further stammering betrays how far he’s fallen off his game. “I…I said TACTILIZING!”

“Yo! Did ya’all hear “tactilzing” or “tantalizing”?”

Another voice on the other side of the line calls out from a distance. “I heard “tantalizing”!”

“See? They heard “tantalizing”.”

“I said tactilizing!!!”

“I mean, why would you even say “tactilizing” in the first place though? That’s a total nonsense word and it sounds gay as fuck.”

A bead of sweat peeks out of Larry’s forehead as he continues to lose his grip. “It’s not GAY! It’s my ANGLE!”

“Well your angle is gay as fuck. Like, what does “tactilizing” even mean?”

Larry’s eyes start to well up with tears, and he tries to sublimate his completely bitch-made urge to cry. “It’s…*chortle*....a play on my name!”

“Yeah, no shit. It still doesn’t make any fuckin’ sense though. Oh wait…” The kidnapper pauses a moment, seemingly distracted, before returning their attention to the call. “Your daughter wants to talk to you.”

Larry wipes his tears as his eyes go wide. “Morgan?! MORGAN! Yes, put her on the phone!”

We hear the phone being jostled as it’s passed off to Larry’s five year old daughter.

“Morgan! It’s daddy! Are you okay?! I swear if they’ve hurt you I’m going to TACTILIZE their asses…”

We can practically hear Morgan’s eyes rolling. “Ugh! Daddy stop saying that it’s gay as fuck.”

“Honey, it’s not gay!”

“Have you won any XWF matches yet, daddy?”

Larry blanches. “Honey, you know daddy is WORKING on that.”

“Daddy you’ve been saying you’ve been working on it for like a whole YEAR! JEEZ!”

“I swear one day I’ll win an important match just give me some time, okay?”

“You know what daddy, I don’t even want to be rescued! God, you’re so EMBARRASSING.”

Larry’s eyes well up again. “Oh Morgan, please don’t say that. You’re hurting daddy’s FEELINGS.”

“Do you know how embarrassing it is to have a dad who lets his daughter get kidnapped every week and can’t even win an XWF match?”

Larry is openly weeping now. “But…but…but! It’s not EVERY week! You totally didn’t get kidnapped last week!”

“Whatever. They have shit loads of ice cream and toys here so I’m gonna go. Bye.”

“Wait! Please don’t go!”

“Go tactilize yourself, daddy.”

The kidnapper chimes in from the background. “Nice shot, Morgan!” We hear the distinctive sound of a high five before the line goes dead. Larry Tact’s dignity vanishes into the ether.

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Madison blinks at the screen.

My god…

Dolly raises a quizzical eyebrow to Dyson,

...what a DUMB name.

Yeah.. Tact kinda’ sounds like the noise your neck makes with it finally snaps from boredom hanging in some benign noose.

Shouldn’t somebody… be worried about his kid? Obviously he’s not.

Mmm. Only if she’s forced to tag with him. Poor Coey Black

They both laugh, but as the sound of the rain creeps back in, something shifts in Madison’s face. She leans her head back against the foot of the bed, eyes tracing the ceiling as a thought drifts in and sits beside her,

Dolly notices, and smiles knowing…

Yer’ thinking about Dom?

Madison doesn’t answer right away. The subtle hardness of her eyes soften.

He’s just a kid. And he’s good. Like… *good* good. Heart of gold. Calls people ‘ma’am’ and ‘sir’, apologizes-to-the-ring-crew good. If you can believe that shit.  And he’s just trying so damn hard to prove he belongs, y’know?

Madison’s recent involvement with Dom Strife hasn’t been lost on Dolly.

Some might see it as a bad sign. A fracture forming. A future without “Dyson & Waters” written on the marquee. But where others assume resentment, Dolly recognizes something else entirely. A flicker of light.

Faint… but unyielding.

Where some saw Dyson’s embrace of a different tag partner in Strife, Dolly saw Dyson accepting responsibility.

Where some saw Dyson interfering to help Dom win the XTreme Championship as a sordid act, Dolly saw it as Dyson protecting said responsibility. Seeing her step in for Dom at what would’ve been his lowest (losing to Scoops lol), not out of ambition, but instinct.

Like a lioness shielding a cub. Like someone who, after spending a lifetime burning everything around her, finally found something worth saving. Dolly saw Dyson coming to love, and protect something…*anything* other than herself as a reinforcement of this team’s journey.

I’ve spent so much of my life pushing people away. I didn’t realize how fast someone could sneak in when you’re not looking.

You care about him.

...

Dolly’s words hang for a moment. And just then, another voice sounds out.

She does. Lux replies curtly.

They both turn to look at her, surprised by her sudden reappearance.

I thought you went to work out?

Somebody puked on the treadmill so they had to shut it all down for cleaning. she deadpans.

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Madison gets to her feet, looking agitated. Lux, where the fuck do you get off telling people who I do or don’t care about?!

Lux smiles lightly and taps her head. I was in here, remember? She begins, drawing closer to Madison, but not threateningly so. You know, the presence of your son in your subconscious didn’t make sense to me. I figured you didn’t give a shit, so why would Samael even be there? Yeah, it didn’t make sense. Until Dom.

What are you blathering about?

Your guilt complex. Lux answers decisively. Madison screw faces her but Lux proceeds undaunted. I thought you didn’t give a damn about abandoning Samael. But you do, don’t you? It’s clear as day to me now. Your relationship with Dom. You’ve been almost…motherly to him.

Bitch, I reiterate, WHAT. ARE. YOU. BLATHERING. ABOUT?

No, I get what she’s saying! You see Dom almost as a surrogate son, a replacement for the one you, erm, parted ways with. Because all this time, through all these years, you HAVE felt guilt for what happened with Samael. It bothers you. Even if you say it doesn’t. And now you’re trying to undo that mistake with Dom. Dolly opines diplomatically. Maddy, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s…well, it’s human.

Madison shakes her head. You guys are so, soooooo off base here!

Lux and Dolly share a knowing look.

Okay.

Madison quirks an eyebrow. Just “okay”? That’s all you have to say?

Dolly shrugs. Yeah. You’re not ready to accept it yet, and that’s okay.

Madison throws her hands up in the air in frustration. Okay guru. What the fuck ever. Can we just get back to watching TV? I need to take my mind off this psychological destruction you two are inflicting on of me!

Dolly tosses the remote to Dyson, withholding a smirk at her partners trademark theatrics. Madison flips the button, changing the channel from the SHACTilating entertainment they’ve been taking in.

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There’s VHS type static, and then an amped up shock-jock voiceover.

ARE YOU TIRED OF GRINDING THROUGH LIFE’S MAIN QUEST WITHOUT A SENSE OF JOY?

Cue sweeping orchestral music over scrolling 2d video game footage. A title splashes across the screen:

GAME GIRL: RE-LOADED & REAWAKENED – BARFINEX DELUXE

..only available now using BARNCOIN and only on STEEEAMMMM….

We see Game Girl, her hair tousled, armor dented, a black eye blooming like an onion from Outback. She’s standing on a pixelated mountain as the sun rises behind her.

We hear Game Girl speak (voiced by someone trying to sound 19, but clearly 35)

After twenty years in early access… my heart is finally patched.

A montage rolls… GG helping an NPC farmer harvest mushrooms, GG battling her past selves inside of a mirror realm, GG slow dancing with a cloud of sentient trauma wearing a prom dress.

THAT’S RIGHT, LOSER! IN THIS REMASTER, GAME GIRL DITCHES THE ANGST DLC FOR A NEW MAIN OBJECT: ….FUCKIN OFF FOR FUN!!!

NO MORE BROODING OVER LOST MATCHES. NO MORE GLITCHY SIDE QUESTS LIKE “wHo aM i?” or “WhAt’S tHe PoInT?”

JUST PURE. RADIANT. JOY!!!!

…AND MAYBE A SWORD OF LOVE?

We cut to Game Girl and Game Boy watching over a sunset valley filled with “defeated “ monsters napping peacefully.

“You didn’t beat them… you freed them.” Game Boy says.

I couldn’t beat them. I felt bad about it.

CRITICS ARE CALLING IT:

“POIGNANT” - some academic douche on Reddit

“SURPRISINGLY DECENT FOR HOW OVERPLAYED THESE REHASHES ARE” - Edwin Longfellow Orwell

“GAME OF THE YEAR… maybe” -Scoops McGee, probably.

The commercial fades to black. The logo appears again, this time glowing…

GAME GIRL: BARFINEX DELUXE
Now with 35% fewer existential crises.

(legal text flashing below)

Disclaimer: Game Girl still cries sometimes. That’s okay.

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The shot pans back from the TV to show our intrepid trio still splayed about the room watching it.

This bitch has been around for over ten years and has literally one title reign to show for it…that happened ten years ago. Like, how the fuck does that happen? You would think that in that time the bitch would have at least won the Xtreme by ACCIDENT, but nope, not even that. Holy hell, what an abject FAILURE of a human being.

Well, she is part time at best.

You’re right. So she half asses when she shows up for work and then quarter asses her actual efforts. Good point, Lux.

Lux turns to Dolly.

How do you do this?

She’s not so bad once you get to know her. Hey Maddy, remote me!

Madison tosses Dolly the remote. She presses the channel button and we are once again whisked into TV land.

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It’s got all the trappings of an infomercial, and wouldn’t you know it…it IS an infomercial!

The shot settles on a very old decrepit looking man who bears an uncanny resemblance to Scoops McGee. Scoops waves to the crowd before him, which is also composed of geezers and the half dead as they clap their withered hands together and the dead skin cells kick up a cloud of dust. The shot then pans back to Scoops who is standing behind one of those eponymous infomercial desks. 

Scoops McGee here and I know…I know!....*chuckles*....it’s a difficult topic to talk about. But we gotta do it. That topic is…incontinence.

When you get to a certain age like us, why, your rectum just turns into a broken pipe! You could be doing anything, talking on the phone, playing with the grandkids, or, I dunno, soaking up valuable XWF TV time that should go towards performers who aren’t literal zombies, when the unthinkable happens.

Poop. Shit. Feces. The ol’ chocolate slide.

And that’s why I and my crack team of crapgineers have come up with….

Scoops places a large box of adult diapers on the desk.

....Scoops Poops! The adult diaper that’s guaranteed to keep up with your active lifestyle as you rob young deserving talent of precious opportunities so you can satisfy your pathetic ego and stave off thoughts of your own pending mortality! 

But Scoops!

A voice sounds out from off camera. The shot turns to reveal….XWF Legend Centurion! (Or a very convincing clone thereof).

By gosh, it’s Centurion everybody!

The crowd is completely silent.

Scoops, my shits in the ring are absolutely enormous. I can barely get those brown hogs down the toilet at home, so you can only imagine how big they are when I’m mobile. Is Scoops Poops really up to the task?

Why I’ll do better than tell ya, I’ll show ya! Scoops brings out a gallon container of chocolate ice cream with a scoop. Now lets pretend this ice cream is your scat. Scoops pulls a diaper out of the box. Now go ahead and scoop those turds into the diaper.

Centurion scoops out the entire carton of ice cream into the diaper. Scoops then picks it up and walks around the desk and off to stage left where a wrestling ring is set up. Scoops gestures for Centurion to get in the ring and Cent obliges. Scoops gets in the ring after him and slides the pair of ice cream laden briefs on over his jeans.

Now lets RASSLE!

What follows is a solid ten minutes of the most slow motion, arthritic, downright pathetic wrestling contest you can imagine. It naturally ends with Centurion getting pinned because let’s face it, he’s used to that. Scoops then gets to his feet with a grumble and a crack of his back before turning to reveal his posterior to the crowd. Remarkably, the diaper has held up during that deluge of low intensity action!

Wow Scoops! The fecal matter was completely contained by the diaper!

That’s right, Centy! And now, you too can bore wrestling fans to tears by taking precious national exposure away from upcoming stars all to sate your lust for long lost relevance by wearing SCOOPS POOPS! Now available at your local Wal-mart for the low, low price of 10,000 XBux!

The shot cuts to an applause sign blinking, and then to the crowd, who are all completely asleep and/or dead. 

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Back in the room, we see the girls nodding off as the tv remains static. A new program tuning in as their eyes close.

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Shatford Productions Presents:
Coreyo and Juliet

A one-act tragedy… in five acts of trauma

A fade in on a candlelit tomb. Juliet (Dolly, draped in black velvet), mascara smeared beneath her veil, clutching a dagger. She kneels beside the lifeless body of Coreyo Black (Who appears to be Madison in a fake beard… So what? It’s Shakespeare 2025. Women can play men), wearing a crown of foil, draped in leather, eyes shut in melancholy

Coreyo, Coreyo, wherefore art thou Coreyo?

Do thy greatness slumber still? Or merely thine ego recharge?

We’ve waited for so long Coreyo.

She sighs dramatically, looking upon the vial marked “FAKE POISON”

Thou speakth of death, but never truly die…

Instead thou lingereth in monologue, in elegy, in endless Twitter threads of thy own design

She leans in close.

Was I not enough? Was war not enough? Was being overlooked, pinned by Misty, and fifth-picked not enough?

Juliet raises the dagger… which we can clearly distinguish is a plastic prop now.

Forgive me, sweet, tragic Coreyo… I’d rather perish than hear another second of thy trauma-dump. I forbid thy’s return to thee

She plunges the “dagger” into her neck and falls.

Coreyo awakens, gaping, elated. He looks upon Juliet’s dead body.

Ah! A new sorrow! A fresh wound to thines heart!

My favorite paramour lies slain, and I… BEREFT…. Must now narrate her demise in four long acts! Acts of thine same dribble I’ve made a living from!

He throws his head back in anguish as ominous music swells. A crow squawks.

O thy warriors of Ides… gather ‘round, I must tell you all….my truth…


I sucketh.

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Sometimes you flip through channels on the TV, and program after program just flashes by, turning into nothing but fading lights and white noise.

Be it a cheap, done-to-death action flick. Be it niche advertisements, selling old and obsolete products all over again. Or be it a poorly produced knock-off tragedy that drones on and on and on but nothing ever really happens.

But sometimes you flip to a channel that you can’t change.

With a program you can’t keep your eyes off of… because you know something BIG is about to happen.

Just like yer’ REIGNING XWF Tag Team Champions.

Dolly gives Madison a knowing, confident nod

Go ahead and call us dysfunctional. Call us “cobbled together”. Call us strange bedfellows. Call us all of that.

And then go look in the goddamn mirror.

I mean, lets take that clever witticism out behind the tool shed and drop a slug behind its brain right off the bat. Because for as much of an odd couple as it may LOOK like we are, you four are just the same.

Game Girl and Scoops? You’ve teamed together a grand total of ONCE and couldn’t be more diametrically opposed, with one representing youth, vibrancy, and technology and the other being an old fossil who can’t understand why his newfangled laptop won’t run his free AOL disc from 1995.

As for Black and Tact? Hell, maybe you two HAVE teamed together in some backyard trampoline promotion. I can’t be arsed to wade through all that bullshit. But I know you two make for strange bedfellows here and now for the simple fact that Tact is not SEB. You see, Corey Black NEEDS to be SEB’s ball boy because he’s the kind of parasite that only thrives when he’s paired with superior talent. Small problem there though, eh Corey?

I’ve pinned both you AND your dom top Bryce!

Yeah, lets go to town on this for a while, shall we?

Corey, I decimated you and the rest of your team at War Games almost single handedly. Pinfall, after pinfall, after pinfall I put your crew of mediocrities down for the count. And then, a couple months later, I made the entire XWF Universe collectively shit its pants when I pinned Sebastian Everett Bryce. So even if you HAD gotten your top choice in partner, you’d be fucked.

But you didn’t even get that, did you?

No. You got LARRY TACT.

Larry FUCKIN’ Tact.

                       
Imagine being so unlucky.

Imagine being on a heater like Madison is riding, and being partnered with someone who’s won… what? A singular match? Over Sir Lionel Pennyfarthering? Larry SHAT, indeed.

But I guess you don’t really have to worry about that, huh Corey?

Because yer’ on anything but a heater.

Yer’ riding that “welcome back” energy, with a tucked tail and a bruised ego, after falling so hard on yer’ face, you made my deranged memaw Misty a BIG deal. Gee, thanks fer’ being such an inattentive, image driven loser, too busy simping for developmental-league wrestling businesses, that you took yer’ eye off the prize in the only ring that matters. The ring where you, and those you laude, keep getting bested. 

Here’s yer’ welcoming party, Corey. One you don’t really deserve, but one we’re happy to throw.

Tables. Ladders. Chairs.

From the team that just won these belts in the same environment… from someone that SEB drafted higher than you in WarGames. Ouch. Some “king” you are, pal.

Imagine being on a heater like Madison, and getting strapped with Tact, or Black… or worse McGee, and not a twelve time champion in the XWF.

Not a three time tag team champion.

Not a veteran of over a hundred matches in this… the mecca of professional wrestling.

Not someone who’s beaten Game Girl every time they’ve wrestled.

Not the one wrestler who’s proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that she can beat anyone “above her”.

But that’s not something we have to imagine

Because Madison Dyson walks into Ides of March with Dolly Waters.

And we’re the team of happenstance, who just so happens to have y’alls number at every beck and call you’ll try and make.

We’ve each beaten the best of either team we’re facing.

Dolly>GG

Madison>Corey

So fer’ any calls you’ll make about singles results, we’ve already answered those questions a time or two over.

We’re the veterans you’ve known, and not the veterans we’ve only just heard of this year. Not the flakey “kings” floating company to company, crying on social media when we lose.

For all that seems random of our pairing, things that might put myself and Madison at odds, it pales in comparison to how disadvantaged the lot of you are in this match because of the same reasons. That’s because we’re a pairing that works. The channel you can’t turn. A team of destiny.

Tell me I’m a bad person for it now GG…Bad for embarking on this quest with Madison.

Afterall, you drafted who you thought was ME (But was really Misty) to WarGames while “I” (Misty) was tagging with Madison.

You didn’t see a problem with it before… because deep down in yer’ in code you know I’m right.

We’re fighting for something greater, my friend.

The legacy of these championships means more than some random video you doom-scroll past on yer’ phone. Adding to the laundry-list of forgettable, unchallenged champions.

It demands more.

It demands Dyson and Waters.

The champions you can’t afford to look away from.   

Without even looking at Maddy, Dolly hits a blind tag on her, bringing her back into the mix.

Maddy points at herself and Dolly in turn.

This team FUCKS.

She then stabs a finger at the camera.

A combined total of over 30 years in this business. A combined total of over 15 years in the XWF. And I know what you’re thinking Scoops. Your last hip replacement is 30 years old alone. But here’s the brass tacks you withered old hack.

I screwed you out of the XTreme championship because you disgust me. Because my client Dommy-wommy deserved it ten times more than you. Because the fact that only now, as you perch precariously close to death, have you attained ANY sort of relevance. And what relevance you HAVE attained you’ve done so to the detriment of people who are younger, fitter, more exciting, and more talented than you.

And you know that, you geriatric puke! You KNOW THAT.

But you don’t care.

All you care about is keeping that one remaining foot out of the grave, keeping that name on one more set of lips…hoping and praying that even in this, the winter of your existence, that you can grab at one final, tenuous thread of legacy.

Well, fuck that. And fuck YOU. Because I’m making it my personal mission to end the Scoops McGee experiment once and for all. And I’ll have more than my fair share of tools to do it with.

And who’s going to stop me? Game Girl? The part timer’s part timer who shows up for a cheap pop, does nothing of any sort of relevance and disappears back into Super Mario World or what the fuck ever?

Ten years, bitch. TEN FUCKIN’ YEARS. And what do you have to show for it? Some smiles? Some hearts and minds? Honey this is wrestling! Success comes in blood, gold, and broken bones. Not good fee-fees and fun with pixels.

Madison gestures at herself and Dolly again.

This is more than happenstance. More than chaos. This is FATE. This is UNITY. This is everything those tag team championships have been waiting with baited breath for since 2012.

THE team.

THE alliance.

The TWIN BITCHES OF DESTRUCTION.

And it is going to take so, so, much more than the witless clusterfucks that stand before us to unseat FATE itself.
                                                                    
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The rain has stopped.

The television finally clicks off. The static dies.

Dolly’s eyes don't flutter open. They simply rise. She turns and sits upright on the edge of her bed, her hair still damped from sleep’s sweat… the outlines of a warm dream barely brushed from her face.

Across the room, Madison is snoozing. Mouth slightly open, her Twizzler straw still looped between her fingers.

Lux leans against the wall, arms crossed, head tilted. Watching.

Dolly looks down at her own hands. She opens and closes them. Then again.

Something inside of her has shifted. Something true. Something earned.

For a moment it seems her aura is the only thing casting a glow on the room.

I think I get it now she whispers, to no one. …or maybe to everything.

It wasn’t just about winning. Or surviving. Or being vindicated.

It was about connection. Faith. Picking something worth protecting and holding it tight enough to matter.

Dolly breathes out. The air is clean. For maybe the first time ever, she feels… whole.
       
She gets up. Walking barefoot toward the window. The moonlight painting her aura in silver. The streets below silent, but Lux leans in to hear

We’re gonna do it. her voice calm, and certain We’re gonna make it.

And then-

A whisper. More guttural than soft. Male. Not Lux. Not Maddy.

Angel…

It’s Samael.

Dolly turns. Slowly.

No one there.

MY little angel…

It’s not a compliment.

It’s a claim,

Dolly’s face sets hard. The clarity, that confidence, it doesn’t vanish…. It sharpens. Into resolve.

Into war.

She glances toward Madison, still sleeping.

Time to wake up.


she says, raising Madison’s attention without even touching her,


There’s something coming.

And behind her, outside, in the quiet Stratford night…

A single crow caws.]]>