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X-treme Wrestling Federation BOARDS » Savage Boards » "Savage Saturday Night" RP Board
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Oh, FFS. You're THAT guy?!
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Lacklan Offline
Low Effort

XWF FanBase:
The 'cool' kliq fans

(booed by casual fans; opportunistic; often plays dirty while setting the trends)

Post: #1
03-15-2019 10:02 PM

Sarah is the Best, Sarah Number One
When do I get my TV title shot?




Best Boss EVAH!

Sarah is the Best, Sarah Number One
My TV title shot! When do I get it?

Best Boss EVAH!

Sarah is the Best, Sarah Number One
I beat Fucktard #85! I should get a shot as his title. When is it?

Best Boss EVAH!
……...who is this?

Sarah is the Best, Sarah Number One

ClinkClinkClink, BB
Damnit, Sarah! You are giving me a headache!

Sarah is the Best, Sarah Number One

ClinkClinkClink, BB
Stop bothering Vinnie!

Sarah is the Best, Sarah Number One
I’m not doing anything!

ClinkClinkClink, BB

Sarah is the Best, Sarah Number One

[Image: 6J4JUa8.gif]

Best Boss EVAH!

Sarah is the Best, Sarah Number One
What’s up, Vin-Man?

Best Boss EVAH!
Roxy just ran into our bedroom with her phone and locked her door. Know what’s up?

Sarah is the Best, Sarah Number One
No! Not at all! Hey, can you do me a solid?

Best Boss EVAH!

Sarah is the Best, Sarah Number One
Can you get that Eli dude to take a bath? I mean, like, he REALLY smells.

Best Boss EVAH!

Sarah is the Best, Sarah Number One
And maybe get a razor to him? Because, like, when I shove my foot up his ass, I REALLY don’t want to catch his particular brand of incest, ya know?

Best Boss EVAH!

Sarah is the Best, Sarah Number One
I mean, like, he’s REALLY gross. Like, tabs gross. Like, I showed a pic to Ang, right? And you know how she has totes shitty taste in boys? Well, even SHE needed to rinse out her eyes after looking at him. Imagine TOUCHING him like I have to. SO MUCH EW

Best Boss EVAH!

Sarah is the Best, Sarah Number One
Its tabs in my contract, too. Subsection 17, Paragraph 16: All fat, smelly incels, whether proven or potential, have to bathe themselves in acid before they job for me.

Best Boss EVAH!

Sarah is the Best, Sarah Number One
Thanx, Vin! Soooooooo, about that title match?

[Image: nCH3S0E.jpg]

“Over here! Over here!”

“Give us a smile!”

“Lemme put a baby in you!”

“Can I be in your next movie?!”

Light bulbs flash all around the room in a display reminiscent of a clear Texas sky at night, pops and snaps of the flashes blinding any caught unaware. But the two at the center of all the flashes and cries for attention are not only aware of the chaos, they are the designers. Both growing up in worlds full of travel and exposure, the two people from otherwise vastly different cultures and upbringings came together as two souls who held the missing piece of the other, as the two halves of the pear apple from Japanese lore, and now swam in the ocean of excitement they created.

Sarah Selena Grey-Lacklan’s face was wide with a smile. Dressed in a gown of silver that was bare in the shoulder to expose the large tattoo of a white mask on her moonlight skin, and long enough to fall to her ankles, the Blood Princess was all that glitters. Large firedrops fell from her ears on chains long enough to touch her shoulders, and her platinum hair was woven up into an intricate bun, the back of which was caught with a net of shining diamonds. Her glasses, lenses thick enough to seem the bottom of soda bottles, were lined with tiny gems to match her entire ensemble, the rims lined with alternating red and silver. With the wide smile of bright white teeth that stood out in strong contrast to her thickly painted red lips, she stood with a rigidity which spoke of her regal upbringing and made her seem all the world the princess ready for the ball.

Mackenzie Michaela Grey-Lacklan, or Kenzi to most, was just as radiant. With a dark caramel skin which made her wife look even brighter by comparison, the multimedia star was dressed in a black dress that hugged her lean curves tightly, and dipped down her chest in a V-cut so deep that it bordered on scandalous. But instead of being filled with lust, any eyes of onlookers were instead filled with wonder as she flipped back her head full of tightly-woven braids, the movement making them sparkle in the lights with spots of red from tiny jewels woven all throughout. The bright smile on her face, with teeth nearly as white as her partner’s historically ridiculous set, brought light to her entire face, and the fierceness which people often saw in her sharp angles gave way to the softness of sheer joy.

All round them, cameramen snapped pictures while others typed quickly onto their tablets, documenting the event. The following day would be full of stories across various forms of media about the event, with a range of bents and perspectives, including but not limited to:

Paul Dunford of went on at length about the easel dominating the room, the purple velvet blanket laid over it until the very end of the night, peaking the interest of all attending the unveiling event. Placed just so as to be prominent from all angles, Paul’s mission was to try to sneak a peek under the blanket and get a scoop of the magazine cover underneath, but the large woman known as Maxine stood before it, her large arms folded before her, warding off any and all who would try to ruin the most special moment of the evening.

Mark Mendoza was from Floral Junkies Inc and was beside himself with the vast and varied flower arrangements. The Grey-Lacklans had the door arched by red, purple, and black roses, a subtle reference to their colors when wrestling as Team Kickass, and every table was covered in white and gold flowers, the centerpieces set with tiny sparks and glints, which, knowing the hosts, were quite possibly diamonds crushed into a fine dust.

Brenda Johnson of Fashion Weekly was as happy as the candy store owner when the fat kid comes in. She had been following the “Lacklan” in “Grey-Lacklan” since she was the loudmouth 16-year-old wrestling valet getting over in Texas, because the odd and often severe look of the albino dressed in silks made for amazing editorial shots. Her union with Grey from Hollywood had only added to her repertoire, and her Firestarter clothing line had routinely done well for sales of her magazine. She was looking forward to seeing what outfit the woman had thrown onto whoever the cover of the magazine was this month.



...freakin’ Kyle…

Kyle from is currently standing in a corner and not allowed to continue reporting on the event. Why, you ask? Because of KYLE, the fucking site has gone down, like, three times while you have been watching this promotional video. Don’t believe it? Here, check his out:

Ashley Allen, the buxom personal assistant to the Grey-Lacklans, approaches the man in the corner and asks him to simply do ANYTHING associated with the site. And as SOON as he does so? BLAM! We get that dumb “Sorry, BB” message or whatever it says.


...freakin’ Kyle…

“Thank you for coming tonight!”

Thankfully pulling everyone away from the utter failure that is the prime example of XWF staff, freakin’ KYLE, the voice of Kenzi is being amplified by a stand microphone. Anyone who knows the starlet knows that she is as comfortable in front of that mic as she is in the ring, as she even has a Circle TV-produced music album or two under her name. The room comes to a hush as she smiles broadly at everyone.

“You know, when I first talked to my friends and family about opening my own studio, a lot of people thought I was crazy. And-”

A HISS from the albino at her side, which was probably “accidentally” loud enough for everyone to hear, stops Kenzi. She closes her eyes for a moment and sighs.

“...a lot of people thought I was craxy...”

Sarah positively beams and Kenzi opens her eyes again and continues after a small shake of her head.

“...but I had a vision. Projects that I wanted to do, stories I wanted to tell. Starting with my very first picture as a director, The Blood Princess Bride-”

Sarah’s beam glows even brighter, giving away the answer to who the star of that first film was.

“-to my first actual nationwide release in All That Glitters-”

Sarah’s cheeks turn bright red. Most in the room knew that THAT movie received mixed reactions, both critically and commercially, but in a piece of information that both Mastermind and Kid Kool would like to know, nearly every inch of Sarah was visible in that film. VERY visible.

“-, I just KNEW that the best stories were the ones I held close to my heart. And over the last two years, with the relationships that I have made with the rest of the #CoolKids-”

...yes, say the word “hashtag,” mouth-breathers…

“-I have been able to bring you movies, specials, testimonials, and more, with Dark Goddess Productions. And when it was time to make the moves that established the company, I knew that I could only do it with my partner at my side. She is not just my partner in matrimony, not just the Marketing Brand Officer of our studio, but she has been an active partner in everything I do, from the screen, to the ring, to the LFL gridiron, and I am super happy to have her here as the NEW Editor-in-Chief of the CTN Magazine, my wife, Sarah!”

The room full of people applaud as Sarah and Kenzi share an embrace, the two of them touching their foreheads together while they close their eyes, and then the albino takes the microphone.

“As my wife mentioned, we have been UBES busy over the last couple of years being the very FACES of just about EVERY aspect of media. And it should be no surprise to anyone that we would find even GREATER success when I decided to apply my-”

She makes the motion to toss back her hair, even though it is well above her shoulders, and juts out her hips, placing her hands on them in order to accentuate her surprisingly generous curves.

“-MARKETING GENIUS to our projects. Tonight is ALL about one of those projects, the totes REVAMPED Circle TV Magazine, which you’ll find is not only filled with all of the articles and interviews you’ve come to well as a centerfold which JUST SO HAPPENS to have a pic or two of SOMEONE who’s tits are freakin’ HUGE for SOME REASON-”

Kenzi’s dark cheeks clearly turn a slight shade of purple, but we’ll pretend that we “don’t” see that in the same way she “didn’t” notice Lisa Seldon’s chest.

“-but you will ALSO find NEW content for our hungry and rabid fans! You will find #CoolRankings for the UGWC, and there is talk of the team expanding to the XWF for those in future issues, as well as things like cartoons, games, and more. And now, without FURTHER adieu-”

Sarah’s Londoner accent turning into a flawless French accent for a moment is both impressive and annoying.

-we present to you the March Edition of the NEW Circle TV Magazine!”

Each Grey-Lacklan takes a corner of the purple velvet blanket and, with a smile and wink at one another, they pull the blanket away from the easel to reveal a blown-up version of the magazine cover.

[Image: 6yF8gkE.jpg]

The pops and flashes of pictures being taken blind out the eyes once again. The reporters do their best to catch action shots of the two Grey-Lacklans standing at the sides of the magazine bearing the famous mug of their friend, Angie Vaughn, and hands are already beginning to shoot up into the air with questions for the duo.

~~Later, after much MUCH revelry~~

Isn’t it beautiful, E-Jam? All this glitz? All this glamor?

Oh...sorry...I know that you aren’t used to the spotlight. I know that you aren’t used to people WANTING you around. Hell, I bet you spend the vast majority of your time rocking back and forth in your lair of DOOM~! ranting and raving to yourself about how no one quite understands or respects you. Because, ya know, that’s basically all fat losers like you are used to, right? I mean, I didn’t mean to trigger you with things like me being popular, or pretty, or skilled, or likable, ya know? Please don’t go shoot up a school or burn down a town now, okay!

N-E-Ways...all this stuff going on here? Its all about me. All the lights. All the cameras. All the attention. All the eyes.


Because they ALL know what I represent. They ALL know the excellence and quality I bring. They ALL know that my name and my actions turn EVERYTHING into all that glitters just by being there. And you are going to find out the hows and whys of it very soon, tubba. And every person in Orlando is going to watch us stand face to face, with you looking down on the hawtness that is the Blood Princess and me looking up at the backwater swampbilly and doing my best not to wretch and heave over the stench, and they are going to sit on the edge of their seats so as to catch every SECOND of me whooping your ass.

Because THAT is what they are expecting. THAT is what the journalists are predicting. THAT is what the management...if I can even call them that...of this ramshackle company is both paying for and salivating over: The 5’2” ball of rage destroying ANOTHER shitty veteran who rambles in circles and has 100 pounds on me.

Do you think, for one GODDAMN SECOND, that it was ANY kind of coincidence that I was booked against the fucking TELEVISION CHAMPION in my DEBUT in the MAIN EVENT at one of the MOST PRESTIGIOUS venues in combat sports history?! OF COURSE NOT. Vinnie KNEW what was going to happen. Vinnie KNEW what he was going to see. Vinnie KNEW that the match was going to end with the person who is SUPPOSED to be the face of XWF television being TAPPED OUT by the person who will be the NEW face of the ENTIRE company.


Look! Look! THIS is what they are getting in me:

[Image: HDVPJ7w.gif]

Vinnie was so excited when he heard that I was looking to go on a world tour again that his sudden tentpole could blot out the sun. And then he was so GODDAMN happy when I signed my name to the bottom of that contract that he came so hard in his pants that Roxy didn’t talk to me for THREE DAYS. Because in me, Vinnie gets someone who has their Billion $$$ Smile in place when their hand is raised. In me, Vinnie gets someone who causes traffic accidents when they are placed on the billboards due to all the men getting sudden hardons and all the women needing to take a moment or two to themselves. In me, Vinnie gets someone who knows how to mastermind the ring, the politics, AND the marketing. In me, Vinnie gets someone who puts butts in seats AND sends them home happy and CLAMORING for more. In me, Vinnie gets the veritable STAR that the XWF needs.

Everyone realizes that I can not only be the very FACE of this company, but who I am and what I do can revolutionize the entire BUSINESS. Professional Wrestling in 2019 is more competitive than every other globalized sport. There are more leagues than footy, more television penetration than the Olympics, and more profitability than any other combat sport, and it is MY face that they want at the forefront of it. It is MY legs that they want launching kick after kick. It is MY body they want to be covered with sweat, arms turning to rubber and water, exertion rendering me near unto death, until the very end when I am victorious over commoner and champion alike. It is MY name. MY pedigree. MY temperament. MY drive.

Because in me, they have the shining example, the glittering diamond, of what wrestling has become. It is NOT about the carnivals of the Blackwaters. It is NOT about the armories of our grandparents. It is NOT about the dingy bingo halls, high school gyms, or 1000-seat venues. It is about taking over the goddamn WORLD with 50 THOUSAND or more cramped into one place to see the BEST of what this sport has to offer, and anyone who canNOT handle that change will be left out to the proverbial pasture. We live in a world NOW where we travel across the globe, we take NO days off, we fight and fight and FIGHT AND FIGHT AND FIGHT and rest only when we are ready to die. And in this modern world, in this new generation, in this new REVOLUTION, there is ONE person who epitomizes what we are and what we will become.

In me, they don’t just get to ride the wave of the revolution.

They get to BE the revolution. Because I AM the red and the black.

But in you?

What does Vinnie get in you?

Empty arenas.

Warehouses full of unpurchased merchandise.

A repo notice on the ring, the cameras, the lighting rig, everything.

And much...much...MUCH...disappointment.

And you know why? Because for all of your rambling about change and the importance of finding something to fight for, it turns out you’re THAT guy. You’re THAT guy who waits until the VERY last moment to say anything because he doesn’t have a single goddamn ORIGINAL THOUGHT in his head and NEEDS the words of his opponent in order to figure out what to say. You’re THAT guy who hopes and prays that his opponent says something that he can pick apart because who and what YOU are by DEFAULT is too shitty to be held up on its own. Your THAT guy who has to attack minute details because his OWN position is so shallow and indefensible that it can’t survive the burden of scrutiny. Just like Blackwater and that Masterbater dude, you’re THAT guy who’s entire argument hinges on being able to bust out that CTRL+C and CTRL+V combo in order to have a fighting chance.

And you know what I do to people who are THAT guy?

I make them tap out so fast and hard that they end up crying in a corner about their records to a level where even Peter Gilmore and James Edwards would have to sit back and go “Woah...damn, that’s a lot of tears.”

And THAT is what is waiting for you, THAT guy. Because if the quality and quantity of your argument and hope of winning this match is hinged on your ability to not understand a joke about the King of the March Ring Madness Tournament, then you won’t need to worry about advancing in the tournament that you don’t even care about winning. But that’s okay, because you are NOT going to win this match, much less the tournament. Because what YOU are is nothing to what I AM.

See, if I jump onto my SWEET Windows phone and enter my name into the Bing search engine, you know what kind of search results I get? Megastar. Second generation. Champion. Hero. REVOLUTION.

Know what happens when I enter in YOUR name. Here, check this out:

Yesterday, I interviewed Dolly Waters for an internship for the Legion, right? Girl has promise and is WAY in need of some maternal rearing. She reminds me a LOT of me when I was her age. Well, outside of the fact that she’s poor, has probs never had a decent mani-pedi, and her diction is THE WORST, but that’s what I’m for, right? So, part of this interview is that I asked this question:

“What if I asked you to research my opponent?”

Dolly puckered her lips in thought, which brought at this cute as FUCK dimple that no doubt made that creepmeister Graves choke his chicken until it was black and blue, and then busted out her DECENT Android phone and typed in a few words. She read them out loud as she did so, in that Kentucky accent of hers that makes me want to bathe in the warmth of a tub of bourbon:

“Fat, sweaty neckbeard who probably bangs a croc dressed up as his sister and cries at night.”

That girl has SO MUCH PROMISE. So, you know what popped up? You know what happens when you Google that phrase? Your shitty Rateliff and the Night Sweats cover.

Jesus Christ

I mean




There are absolutely ZERO things which you possess that a company wants in an employee, much less a face of the company as a tournament winner. Abs NOTHING. You sound like the idiot Goth kid who thinks his poetry is SO AMAZEBALLS and flips his hair back as the super cute football players and cheerleaders remind him of the time he wet himself during that assembly in second grade. You move with the grace of that weirdo hippo/whale love child that National Geographic named DYNAMO when it got caught up on the beach. Your entrance makes everyone get up out of their seats and head straight for the restrooms and the hot dog stands, every person in line PRAYING that it takes FOREVER so that your lard ass is FINALLY in the ring when they get back.

And even if you protest from the rooftops so that all may hear: “No! I preach the words of prose! I speak of the unknown god! No one can understand me or do as I do!”



Let the world understand, those who would face the Light
That God ask that we, His children, His beloved
Stand tall! Stand strong! Back straight and true!

Let us RAISE this world from its muck and mire
Let us REACH into the swamp that they have made it
Let us PULL the world from its destitution!
Let us SAVE this world from its sins!

We, these CHOSEN of God’s grace
We, these Pillars of LIght
Guide the listless souls through the darkness
Burn away the roaches and vermin

And we save!
We conquer!
We raise the world up to Him!
We give unto the world what He demands!

Bring them to the Path of the Light, friends!
Bring them to the Light before they perish!

*high-pitched giggle*

For someone so hurt in their feels about jibs and jabs over assumptions, you certainly do not know anything unless you can quote it from my promotional videos, huh? I hope you notice my delicate shoulders shrugging over your ignorance that YOU are not special, that YOU are but a cheap rip-off of my father, that YOU have NO IDEA who I am or where I came from. But, by all means, continue to be wholly and completely incorrect.

We’ll see how well that goes for you.

Oh! And ANOTHER thing!

The FUCK is with The Cleansing?! Like, holy SHITBALLS, right? Am I supposed to be AFRAID of that? Am I supposed to be WORRIED that you are going to FUCKING NOOGIE me to death and then LIGHTLY PRESS MY FOREHEAD TO YOUR KNEE?!


Not even DREZDIN is afraid of that, dude!

Now, ME on the other hand? I have spent most of the last two years spiking people on the back of their head, or else wrapping them up and making them tap frantically on their shoulder before I rip it out of its socket. Because THAT is what I do, Fat Boy. Whereas YOUR best offensive strategy is to try to get me to pass out from the gas coming from the food lodged between your belly rolls, MY strategy involves tearing you apart, piece by piece, until there is nothing left but tears and wasted dreams.

So by all means, Butterball: Bring everything you have tomorrow night. Bring your droning words about nothing. Bring your shitty, ineffective moves. Bring what is probably your fourteen “rebirth” in the last five years. Bring your swampbilly cousin-wife and your army of toothless yokels riding bareback on a sea of crocs like the Dain of the Iron Hills aboard his hogs to aid his cousin.


And find out that not a SINGLE ONE OF THEM will be good enough to save an ant from a high-heeled boot, because bugs go squish.

One final thing, Tubs, a little postscript, if you please: Just like how you don’t have to worry about making it into the next round of this tournament, I sincerely hope that Lux DOES. Because while the masturbating dude would be fun to rip apart and all, I am REALLY looking forward to facing Lux. If people cringed and clutched their pearls over what I did to Blackwater?

My God, this thrashing will be beautiful.
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[-] The following 4 users Like Lacklan's post:
Centurion (03-16-2019), Dolly Waters (03-16-2019), Thaddeus Duke (03-15-2019), The Brothers Blackwater (03-15-2019)
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