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X-treme Wrestling Federation BOARDS » XWF PPV Boards » Relentless Day 3 RP Board 2020
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Relentless Media, Part I: Setting the Pace
Author Message
Lacklan Offline
Low Effort
TITLE - Universal Champion

XWF FanBase:
The 'cool' kliq fans

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

Post: #1
09-13-2020 01:46 PM

Really, REALLY corny music with a rock backbeat plays throughout Studio 1, and the room filled with young women rise to their feet and clap along.

“Let’s have a little fun...todaaaayyyyyy!”

A man in a headset raises his arms, coaching the crowd, but he needn’t bother; indeed, the room set in Warner Bros. was filled with a particular group of people who needed little push or reason to cheer today. They moved with the campy music, clapped with the beat, and smiled the smiles of people ready to meet their idol.

“And here she is now...Ellen DeGeneres!”

The center wall in front of the crowd slowly splits open, giving a peak into the backstage environment, and the namesake of the show walks out with joyous laughter. Wearing a smart outfit of collared shirt and slacks, and a recently cut pixie bob, Ellen DeGeneres seems as full of life and youth as she always has. She waves to the crowd before clapping along with them, and is somewhat taken aback after a moment at their energy. She was used to an enthusiastic crowd, but this one was even stronger than usual. Her eye passes across them critically, the attention-orientated business woman’s analytics dissecting them while her showman’s smile flashes disarmingly, and she notices that her crowd was different today. Younger. Fiercer. But the professional’s smile does not slip even an inch at the realization that this crowd was here for her guest, and not for her, and she continues her usual intro.

Ellen does a little dance step on the stage, joining tWitch at his DJ booth, the two shaking their elbows and knees, before exchanging a high-five. She dances her way to the center of her stage, just before the steps up to the couch, and places her hands in her pockets, as is her custom.

“Hello, everyone!”

The crowd cheers more for her and she gives them her wide smile.

“Thank you! I’m so happy to see everyone today...which is hard with all of the smoke, you see. There’s talk about another gender reveal party going awry and causing another fire. Guess what, kid? It’s a girl and your dad’s an idiot!”

Light laughter from the crowd makes her smile slip.

Okay, Big El, they aren’t in the mood for fire humor. Switch it to Trump.

“President Trump tweeted today and-”

Six tweet jokes later and more light laughter.

Yeesh, I’m dying out here. Okay, cheap pop time.

“Just keep swimming!”

Not much more than a pity laugh.

Weird. My Dory catchphrases usually kill. Let’s go to the old Bob Newhart standard.

“...hey, God? It’s Ellen, again. Yes, I know you know. Listen-”

Wow, even the “Call God” bit was dying. What is WITH this audience today?

At this point, Ellen takes a long, discerning look at her audience. Usually, her crowd was filled with middle-aged white women, both gay and straight, and a small smattering of gay men. But today, the audience was significantly younger, with girls still in their teens, with a blended background of sharp dressers, Goths, and teenie-boppers. Which is when it hits her:

They aren’t here for ME. They’re here for HER. Well, play to what’s over!

Ellen claps her hands and forces on another wide smile.

“But enough about that...let’s get on to the Main Event of the Evening!”

The crowd cheers as she initiates the transition.

“My guest today is a complicated young woman. She’s an athlete, fashion designer, and executive director of a production company...and is the Xtreme Wrestling Federation Universal Champion...ladies and….well….I don’t see any gentlemen here ladies and ladies...Sarah Lacklan!”




Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata fills the room as the crowd begins to jump up and down. Out from the back, Sarah Lacklan walk out in all of her glory: A red and black gown, her platinum hair up in an intricate braid, a feathered hat on her head with a translucent black veil falling in front of her face, and a large championship title around her waist. The short young woman waves to the crowd as she walks across the stage and holds out her hands, where the crowd reaches out to her.






Ellen notices that Sarah doesn’t make contact with them, instead almost nearly doing so, before she pulls away and waves at them in totality. She then turns to Ellen and holds out her hand, and the host takes it. Ellen drops to one knee with a face full of pain, and everyone in the crowd laughs at the feigned painful grip...but it wasn’t a feint! This girl might be nearly half a foot shorter than her, but her grip was STRONG!

“Okay, okay!”

Ellen begs off, and Sarah winks at her. Even from under the dark veil, Ellen can see Sarah’s odd red eyes, something she was going to ask her about. The wrestler lets go and Ellen gets off her knees, wringing her hand as she does so, and motions towards her sofa. As the two make their way over, Ellen can’t help but stare at the roundness of the woman’s behind, curious to the truth of the “squat booty” she had heard about, but the many...MANY...pleats of the girl’s massive dress hid it. Which was probably a good thing; after all, she was STILL getting heat from that time she openly gawked at Katy Perry’s chest. She didn’t need to add THIS to the list of the claims of sexism on her show!

“Thank you, everyone!” she says, as they settle into the couches. The song fades from the speakers and she knows the first question she needs to ask. “And thank YOU for coming onto my show, Mrs Lacklan. Say...that’s pretty interesting for a wrestler. Isn’t usually rock, or rap, or something?”

Sarah nods, though her expression is mostly obscured behind the veil.

“Indeed! But my father used Beethoven when he was a wrestler...which is far FAR better than some shitty Mozart composition…”

...Sarah makes a small motion at her stomach, like she was twisting something small, but otherwise keeps speaking…

“...and he used it, at least in part, to get into the heads of his competition. The original recording, done on a piano, was by my mother, and I later did one for him, too. I figured that using an updated version...with a different movement and in a different style...would be a fitting homage to him. Same with much of my gear and clothing.”

Ellen gives a nod and opens her eyes wide for a moment.

“That certainly is some outfit!”

“Stitched by my own hand!”

Sarah stands up from the couch and the camera takes the chance to zoom in. This close, Ellen can see a lot of tiny details in the stitching, including small spider webs going from top to bottom, including circling around her bodice, and lines of flame along the hem of the petticoats.

“We call them ‘Firestarter’ clothing...the nickname my father had for me when I was younger.”

Ellen nods and gives a small smile as Sarah sits back down.

“Speaking of which, I’ve read that your father was a big influence on you and your career. Is that right?”

The girl gives an enthusiastic nod, enough to make the feathers on her hat shake.

“Absolutely. Being a second generation wrestler can be complicated, because you are not only representing who your family is, and honoring their traditions, but you also need to establish your individuality, else you get stuck in the shadow of the first generation. My father was very different from me, though, and he recognized that early on. When it came time for me to train to be a wrestler, he made sure that, along with himself, I had an instructor who could teach me all the things he couldn’t, and that helped me stand out from him. It’s one of the many things I love about him, and one of the reasons why I strive so much to make him proud.”

“Is he still with us?”

She gives a slow shake of her head.

“No, unfortunately. He went to the Lord’s side in 2017. He got to see me wrestle a couple times, though! And he met Kenzi, which is the most important thing of all.”

Ellen can’t help but smile at that part. The world needed more openly gay women!

“Tell me about her.”

Even under the veil, Ellen can see Sarah’s face turn into a wide smile.

“She’s perfection personified. Truly, it is as if God sent part of Himself down onto the Earth just for me! Which is only PART of why I’m going to attempt permanent injury on Charlie Nickles in a couple weeks!”

Ellen blinks a few times in surprise at the sudden heat which comes to the small woman.

“Wow! Okay! I guess we’ll get right to it.”

She picks up and straightens the set of cards next to her. She looks at her various notes from the interview and takes a moment to think. She didn’t often have wrestlers on her show and wasn’t too sure where to really start. But then she sees the upcoming show and figures that makes a decent enough ice breaker.

“In a couple weeks, the Xtreme Wrestling Federation hosts a three-day event called ‘Relentless,’ and you will be defending the Universal Championship on the 27th in the Main Event against Charlie Nickles. Tell me about how that match came about.”

“I challenged everyone, actually! You see, I had recently won the title at the prior Pay-Per-View event, ‘Leap of Faith,’ and had just made my first successful defense. And I knew that, with so little time left before the next major event, the championship committee….that would be the administrative officials who decide things like rankings and such...had very little time to determine who was worthy of the opportunity, since I upset the entire balance-”

Ellen blinks several times.

“ did what?”

Sarah takes a moment before answering.

“I upset everything, Ellen. A month before Leap of Faith, I wasn’t even in the company, much less a contender for the Universal Championship. Oftentimes, the contender’s are known ahead of time, comprising a bit of a ladder, and upon a successful defense, the challenger atop the ladder falls of and the next person climbs up. But becoming champion the way I did...which was winning a contract for a title at any time and then immediately using it...shook the ladder so much that bodies fell off it and sent them to the ground like in some crazy ladder match! But, that’s what I do, ya know? I come in, beat the fuck out of people, and change the very nature of the business. I did it the first time I was in the XWF, and I’m doing it now, much to the chagrin of one or two, and much to the delight of the vast majority.

“Anyways, the ladder was shook so much that people had to scramble to figure out what was going on. The previous champion decided to sit out the rest of his contract...little silly to be a baby about the thing you made fun of the OTHER previous champ for being a baby about, but this is an odd sport, at times...and the challenger found himself at the foot of the ladder again. And while there are plenty of names who would otherwise get title shots with or without actually doing anything worthwhile to earn a Mastermind or Page or Chaos, for instance...the chaos of me as champion, and the short timeframe, required something MORE. Which is where my open challenge came in. Picture it: ”

Sarah leans back and holds her hands up into the air, her fingers turning into the rectangular angle of a video camera.

“Anyone and everyone who wanted the chance to do what I did, to change not just the XWF, but the entire BUSINESS, had an equal opportunity to do so. No politics, no kowtowing, no conniving. No need to jump the champ from behind to ‘earn’ a shot like other companies I’ve been in, or to win some complicated multiperson match, not even one of my beloved tournaments. Just you, a camera, and an expressed intent. Give the championship committee something to work with, ya know? Make your case and BLAM! Get yourself a shot at Relentless.”

Ellen nods, understanding coming to her, despite the weirdness that was professional wrestling.

“Did you get a lot of these people ‘making their case?’”


Sarah’s voice fills with wonder.

“SO MANY! Ellen, you have NO IDEA how many people sent in videos, wrote letters, and tweeted the XWF admins! I mean, I lost count after several hundred, but the number nerds on the team tell me that they have NEVER received more submissions for ANYTHING they have ever done. WAY more interest than that dumb dodgeball game, that’s for sure. There were a few people who SHOULD have put on their Big Girl Panties and put their money where their mouth is...people who, apparently, don’t have the balls to actually do things when and where they matter and instead jerk them and their buddies off in the dark corners of their basements while watching poorly-dubbed live-action hentai tentacle porn...but there were SO MANY-”


Ellen can’t help but laugh at the quick and forceful response by the very pro-Sarah and pro-wrestling crowd.

‘-SO MANY that the championship committee knews that they couldn’t POSSIBLY get through them all! So, when it came time to decide who deserved the chance to challenge, they turned to yours truly to come up with a solution.”

She turns away from Ellen and to the soundboard operator hidden off-camera just beyond the stage.

“Roll the tape, s'il vous plaît!

Replay:The Egg
Hollywood, CA

Sarah Lacklan, dressed in a full one-piece bathing suit, stands at the edge of her pool. The red and black suit hugs her curves nicely, leaving little to the imagination of Steve Sayors, the intrepid XWF interviewer who was on hand to capture the event. His eyes move up her shapely legs...muscular things which looked like they could crush him...which he usually paid big money to have done...but then stop close to her hip. An ugly scar runs up her right leg before being hidden by the suit, a “momento” from the car accident which had taken away over half a year of her career. She had been emotional when she spoke to him about it during an interview the prior year, and he had done a good job of avoiding the subject since. His mental notes for Sarah interviews included keeping them short and staying away from the accident, the Hooded Man/Various Stalkers Over the Years, the use of the word “song” for some strange reason.

“Jeez….they’re still coming!”

Steve looks into the pool, the contents of which was what Sarah was referring to. In the place of water, the pool was filled with pieces of paper, each covered in the transcripts of promos. And not just ANY promos, but responses to her open challenge from two weeks prior. There must have been thousands! And they were STILL pouring out of the eye sockets of the Shane Carver bust at the end of the pool. His former boss’ tears of letters flowed like a downpour!

“Welp, might as well get this over with!”

Sarah crouches down, her hands pressed together in front of her face, and then pushes herself into the air. She dives forward, with the perfect form of a former competitive swimmer...another subject covered in a prior interview...and she slips into the sea of letters. No splash, of course. She swims through the letters with long and smooth waves of her arms and kicks of her legs, until she reaches the edge of the pool. She dives under the “water,” spins to kick off the wall, and pushes her way back to the other side, where Steve stands ready with his camera crew. When she comes up at the edge, a randomly-plucked piece of paper is clutched in her hand, and she passes it to Steve. The wrestling journalist opens the letter and reveals the name:

Robbie Bourbon!

“Which is TOTALLY how it happened, by the way. So, I come up with Robbie, right? And, let’s be an Honest Pigeon up had me a little nervous. Robbie is a GREAT wrestler! Well, when he decides to show up, anyway. Which, unfortunately, he did last year when he put down Barney Green to result in my first of very few losses within the XWF. AND how he has been doing the last couple months. Warfare MVP, mang! But, only a LITTLE nervous, because I know that Robbie is one of those guys who likes to get TOO involved when he’s on the ‘manic’ side of his manic depression and he was likely going to end up with something like seven matches across the Relentless festival. So, last week, I power-stomped my heels down the aisle to announce him as the WINNER of the open challenge opportunity right after his successful defense of his Warfare MVP honorific, and WHAT happened?”

She shakes her head slowly.

“That aforementioned ‘jump someone to get a title match’ bullshit that plagues professional wrestling. Before we knew it, the LOSER of the MVP match beat up the Robster...and yours truly...and BLAMO! He somehow gets to take his place. Just another example of why I’m trying to clean up the company, I suppose.”

Ellen taps her notes against her hand. This was actually something she wanted to cover!

“What do you mean by that?”

Sarah takes a moment to answer again.

“Professional wrestling is sick, Ellen. It’s suffering from a series of maladies born from extremism, desperation, and a lack of honor. Wrestling began as a sideshow attraction, a contest of athletic will fought in carnivals where despicable promoters were already putting their dirty fingers into the presentation, and while it has had its moments, sometimes stretching into decades, of honor and respectability, it has become the victim of the those evils in mentioned. Men and women who could never fathom being at the athletic level of those who came before us, powerful fighters who drew live crowds in the thousands and television audiences in the millions, and therefore must instead ply a trade of degradation and sinful extremity. This is NOT what God wants.”

Sarah’s head gives a small twitch to the side, as if a bird noticing a particularly tasty worm, and Ellen can almost feel the smirk coming to Sarah’s face behind the veil.

“If your ‘Phone Call with God’ bit were real, you would know this yourself.”

Ellen could certainly feel her face heating up with embarrassment.

“God wants a world which respects His laws and which earns His love. He wants a world which honors Him through the tenants of His favorite sport. And that means men and women facing one another in honest combat, one fall to a finish, with reverence for the rules. And people like Charlie Nickles are not only an example of those who thumb their nose at God, he is an anathema of what is right and proper. A broken man filled with unattainable dreams far beyond the reach of his skills and the scope of his mind. A lifetime of wrestling in a lawless environment seeking the respect of his peers, literally a career the length of my life, which has amounted to little more than the twenty silvers and hangman’s noose of Judas. And his approach to this business, his approach to God, his encapsulated in how he has found himself in the Main Event of Relentless.”

Ellen blinks several times in rapid succession. She wouldn’t admit this on air or in front of this camera, but the sudden switch from “young fashion designer” to “preacher upon the dias” caught her by surprise. This Sarah girl was something.

“Now, I’m not going to say that Charlie is some putz, or anything. Much the opposite! That long career of his may well have been fought in front of a few dozen fans only interested in seeing who can botch an offensive move badly enough to see them piss themselves, and NOT in front of the massive sell-out crowds that accompany seeing ‘LACKLAN’ on the marquee, but it still affords him devastating weapons. In fact…”

Sarah reaches up into her hair, unpins the clip under the brim of her hat, and pulls down the veil. Underneath, Sarah’s face is very pale, almost as white as her porcelain hair, with her weird red eyes surrounded by thick black makeup. And above her right eye is a line of red, a cut which is near to healing in.

“I have a few bruises on my back to accompany the cut. By no means the first time I’ve been busted open by an opponent wielding a piece of garbage,-”

Ellen heard a lot of derision in that word.

“-, but it was certainly the most recent. In his attempt to bury the entire card...including the champion WAY above his level AND the person he JUST LOST TO in order not to keep his name in the mouths of the fans, he swung that chain HARD. And, honestly, signing the contract with my blood? An example of a mind stuck in the shitty 90s extremities of fat, unathletic, untalented men doing anything to gain traction in the business due to their lack of ability. So, yes, he has some weapons, he has some talents, but they are all outdated, antiquated, and shallow. After all, he went into his attempt to steal all of the heat...that’s a wrestling word for momentum and reaction, by the way...that it never entered his mind that he was facing the most resourceful wrestler in the world. Enter Main.”

Sarah pauses for a moment as she tightly folds her veil across her lap.

“I mentioned how there are a few...a very small this business who are filled with chagrin over me holding this championship.”

She pats the title belt resting on the couch next to her, and Ellen, who had never been much of a “girlie girl,” nodded in grudging appreciation for the fine detail work of Sarah’s nails: Black lacquer with thin silver spider webs.

“But the majority of the XWF is not only delighted at having me around, but they are elated. I promised them all during Leap of Faith...though, in a subtle way which required paying close attention...that I was going to give them all what they wanted: Sarah Lacklan, full time. And the moment I opened the briefcase which held the XWF contract, they pumped their fist and cheered. And when my music hit after the main event later that night, after Fuzz dispatched Centurion...and after Maddy rained on his parade...likely with actual piss and 100 grain vinegar...their mouths dropped open in shock and their hearts froze. But after the Falcon Punch, after the three count, their hearts began to beat again, even if they were breathless. And men and women stood and cheered when they could again find that lost breath, for the Queen had claimed her throne. Of those many men and women, Robert Main was one of them.

“We are not friends, by any means. Hell, I refer to his Cataclysm tag partner as ‘dummy’ all the time! But we understand one another. And when I planned a little surprise for Robbie Bourbon, he was more than happy to wreck a little havoc, not only in my name, but in the name of his own chaos. Naturally, when the need of an audible presented itself, he was more than ready to turn that chaos to his Xtreme title challenger in Charlie, and the two of us ended up with a two-for-one scenario. I got some backup and he got in a cheapshot on ol’ Chucky before their title match. But then, of course, ol’ Chuck had to raise the bar.”

Ellen sees Sarah’s fingers clench her veil angrily.

“I mentioned my Beloved before. Kenzi is a world-renowned wrestler in her own right, which championships galore in numerous divisions. Hell, she’s literally only lost ONE match in the XWF, and that’s because of me! But for all of her worth and success IN the ring, she has rarely been able to keep her wits OUT of it. She’s been blindsided while walking through the halls of a building more times than Vinnie has booked a dumb match stipulation...and I’m not sure I can even COUNT that high! So, it’s no real surprise that Charlie was able to catch her unaware before her ridiculous tiger cage match-”

Ellen’s eyes go wide but Sarah gives her a dismissive wave clearly meant to mean “don’t ask.”

“-and use her to send a message. Which was the DUMBEST thing ol’ Chuck E. Cheese could do. Because the House of Lacklan repays receipts many folds over, and with FAR more flash and flair than our opponents might expect. Fast forward a couple of days and BLAMO! He has his arm kick, smacked, pulled, smashed, and RIPPED so many times that he’s likely going to need to pay someone to help him take a piss. His wing is so broken and ready for the Pigeonwing that he’s likely going to tap out furiously before I even get the crossface locked in! Honestly, I can dig a little back-and-forth battering, ya know? He jumps me, I jump him, it’s all coolio as we head into the match. But attacking my Beloved while I was in a meeting with Vinnie? That’s making it personal. And so I did what I do: Make an impact and rip away the championships of those who don’t deserve it. And while Main likely would have successfully defended the Xtreme Championship without my help, having me there to personally cast away the deluded dreams of the Chucky Doll was satisfying. And I’m going to repeat that at Relentless.”

Sarah looks down at the crumpled veil in her lap, shrugs, and tosses it to the ground. She then picks up her championship belt and holds it up for everyone to see.

“The reality of Relentless is that Charlie Nickles is going to walk into this Universal Championship match wholly unprepared for what he faces. After all, we’re talking about a man whose ability to research and understand his opponents is so shallow...there’s that word again...that he calls out Robert Main for riding the coattails of others. Robert Main, of all people. Think about that! The man wasn't just the Universal Champion last year...he was a man who dominated this entire company. Everyone feared Robert Main...well, except for yours truly, of course…#MainFearsSar...whether he was the leader of a tag team, a stable, or standing up all by his lonesome self. He defeated just about everything that came into his path, but of course ol’ Chuckles doesn’t know that, because Chuckles doesn't bother doing any research. He probably looked at Main, saw he was a tag wrestler, and didn't do anything beyond that. And you know what THAT means? It means he’s gonna be wholly unprepared for who he is facing when it’s ‘go’ time.

“It's a common theme in this company, and much of this business, to do that, unfortunately. Like Main, he likely did fuck-all when it came to me, ya know? Much of this business takes a look at the 5' 2”, 245 pound Sarah living in West Hollywood and thinks that, OBVIOUSLY, I’ some dumb blonde from SoCal with an accent from the Valley saying ‘like’ every third word who dreamed of being Cher from Clueless. Bitch, please. Not only am I anything but that, I’m everything against that. I’m not even blonde! I’m an albino! And everyone looks at me and thinks the ‘little girl’ is an easy fight that they’ll just crush, all the while ignoring my history, my pedigree, and my training. And then when I beat them, when I send them into the Abyss for a three-count or make them frantically tap out to the Pigeonwing, they cry about it. They whine about it in chat rooms, direct messages, literally every form of social media...follow me on twitter and instagram at ‘cooltubesource,’ by the way....and make claims about how I win all of my matches because I cheated, or know the boss, or a favored, or whatever, all the while ignoring the fact that the list of defeated opponents include some of the truly elite within the XWF in a variety of situations and locations. I didn’t win those matches and gain my position and stature by cheating, currying favor, or otherwise by circumventing the rules, but by BEATING people CLEAN. And Charlie has alREADY outed himself as someone who is NOT going to do the research, is NOT going to be prepared, is NOT going to take the things we have to do OUTSIDE of the ring seriously enough to compete at my level.

“From what I can tell, he probably looked at me and said “Hey, this is the Universal’ and then didn’t see anything more than a little girl who needs a good ‘pounding,’ as it were. Just a shallow perusal at what I am which doesn’t do justice to me, this championship, or this match, and it’s going to cost him the biggest opportunity of his languish-filled career. From what I can tell, all he’s REALLY done going into Relentless is ‘Pull a Gage!’ You see, going into Leap of Faith, one of my opponents was this dude named Gage Gannon, right? And Gaggie’s preparatory salvo was to basically say that knowing anything about his opponents was a waste of time because...well...just because. And how did that work out for him? He didn’t just flame out...he sputtered and flickered until the wick just got so embarrassed by the flame that it stopped giving him any fuel. Gage got two thirds into the preparatory process and then just ghosted his responsibilities rather than continuing to have to face the truth of how well I exposed and outed him. Just BOOM! Pretend I’m not here! Why? Because he realized that, just as I said, he wasn’t worth anything beyond the ‘gimme’ wins portion of the XWF ‘Please Don’t Leave!’ Starter Kit. And if he’s not careful, ol’ Chuckster is going to find himself doing the SAME thing: A big burst in the beginning, a limping Part II, and then a resigned bow of the head and defeated slump of the shoulders.

“Another similarity I see between Charlie and Gage is the outlandishly STUPID shit they do OUTSIDE of the ring! Beyond his exclamations of superiority, Gage spent the majority of his time bringing a camera crew with him so that we got to see him...well, his bodyguards, anyway...beat up racist hicks, fuck ugly white chicks, and other bouts of extremity. Why? Because he couldn’t separate his personal life with his work life, and it got to the point where when the two dummy Page making EVERYONE feel uncomfortable with his SHITTY take on Black Lives Matter...he couldn’t help but get triggered. And Charlie does similar stuff! While telling us all that we aren’t as hardcore and hungry as he is, while telling us that we can’t handle his pain or demons or whatever other generic ‘I am hardcore!” nonsense he wants to steal from those who came before, he’s busy causing problems all across the country, getting into fights, forcing people to call the cops, and throwing his kid out a window! He’s SO mixed up in his head, SO distracted by everything outside of the ring, that he’s allowed THAT to infect him at work. This has led to a personality and attitude which has people lined up to jump him and put him in his place. It’s led to everyone looking at him askance, aware that he’s a powder keg of bullshit and unnecessary rage, not worthy or fit of being in a spotlight. All it took was a few whispers, a few allusions of a bounty, and BLAM! Half the roster got involved on Saturday to whoop his dum-dum butt. And at the end of it all, Mr Hardcore ended up in the hospital. Broken wing, broken crown, broken heart. But, hey, I’m sure he’ll be able to terrorize a few hospital staff, right? Scare some orderlies, or some nurses, or perhaps make the pediatric cancer wing kids cry so that he stays the big, bad monster, right? Right up there with Gage trying to convert racist hicks to the wiles of ebony booty. What a crock of shit.

“One of the saddest parts about Charlie at this stage is that we have ALL seen his act before. I’m not even talking about the hardcore garbage nonsense...I mean, we’ve got Gilly on the roster, after all...but the ‘hot start.’ Dude comes in hot, gets those ‘gimme’ wins against the likes of freakin’ Vonn Hammer so that he can be held up as some new and shiny toy, and in doing so exposes himself as someone who is only prepared to walk into the kiddie pool of preparation. THAT kind of dedication to wrestling is fine, totally fine, against the likes of spot-fillers like Fantasia or whatever, but against higher tier talent? Let’s face facts: He didn’t just barely lose to Robbie Bourbon...he fell on his fat face! Just because you can dip your toe into the water doesn’t mean you can swim, and Charlie is showing that he has, at best, a doggie paddle to keep him afloat in neck-deep water, which has resulted in meaningless wins and convincing losses. Which brings me to a third comparison I have found between him and Gage: The Heavymetalweight Championship.

“I quipped, much to the laughter of many, that Gage would never be at the level of the Hart or Television Championship, because of his inability to back up his own grandiose claims, and that he would, at best, perhaps have a solid run with one of the championships only fought over by lower-tier loses who have a fanbase comprised of 40-year-old men jerking off to live-action hentai porn while injecting Mountain Dew into their veins. And while Gage bailed before that prophesy could come true...Chuckie Boy went and did it! Hey, can’t win the MVP from Bourbon? Go win a championship no one cares about! Hey, can’t win the Xtreme Title? Hey, head off to where you just need to sneak a pin on someone when they’re sleeping! THAT is not good enough to challenge for the Universal Championship, much less win it, and so now he gets to carry around a rubbish piece of tin. Hey, maybe Rayne will come back and they can have an epic feud over the Heavymetalweight Championship wherein they debate the values of cousin porn and tossing your children out of a window to the delight of their total ten fans? At least that would give something for the guy watching the porn to tip their fedoras at other than some chick getting covered in tentacle spunk.

“Like so many others we have seen in the XWF...and I have seen a LOT, even in my relatively brief time in the company...Charlie got his feet a little wet by stepping into the shallow end, right? That’s all his preparatory skills are good for, after all. Dipped his toy in the shallow end, felt that the temperature was fine, and then dived in. But then he found a temperature far too cold, a depth far too deep, and his now floundering for an escape. Remember: He isn’t in this match because he deserves it. He isn’t in this match because he earned it. He’s in the Main Event of a rare XWF pay-per-view for the Universal Championship because of the malady that infects this business. Because he attacked the champion, beat up the rightful challenger, and signed the contract...oh, with the blood of the champion, because apparently he’s a 16-year-old Goth theatre student who thinks ‘Wow, I bet NO ONE has EVER seen THIS idea before!” He’s in this match because of the pathological NEED for some of the people in this business to laugh about seeing stupid people do stupid shit.

“By contrast, I’m in this match, in this Main Event of a rare XWF pay-per-view for the Universal Championship, because I matter. While Chuckles’ act, the garbage wrestler who gets everything wrong and drowns in the depth chart, has been seen a hundred times just in the last year, mine is something wholly different. I am the one who wins the tournaments. I am the one who wins the big matches. I am the one who flips the business on their head and makes them challenge their preconceptions. I am the one who does things that literally no one else in XWF history have done. Honestly, what is Charlie going to do? Wrap some barbed wire around a baseball? Swing a chain around his head? Or maybe...oh, and this will be very special...pour lighter fluid onto a table and set it on fire?! Literally ANYONE can do that. And DO that! Literally every fucking XWF show, there is someone going to the hospital because they decided that ‘standing out’ meant doing the same dumb shit Charlie has been doing in front of ten people in someone’s backyard for the last twenty years. But me? I do things that Charlie can’t. I legitimize the sport of professional wrestling.

“And that’s what everyone is going to see happen on the 27th, Ellen. After feasting on three nights of 90s nostalgia...don’t ask...they are going to be treated to a ladder match...which is super dumb, but also don’t ask...wherin Charlie gets to do something insanely stupid like fall from the top of the ladder through six tables stacked atop on another...likely with lightbulbs and C4 bombs piled in a heap at the bottom, because lolhardcore...and get blown up like an action film so that he can keep a smidgen of his heat...again, that’s momentum and reaction, in case you forgot...while THE Universal Champion calmly reaches up, unhooks her championship, and pulls it down. The result will make everyone happy: After first verbally and later physically punishing Charlie, I keep my championship, he gets to have a Relentless Moment, the Fedora Dudes get to jerk off over unnecessary carnage, and I get to send another unworthy contender back to the Halls of Obscurity he so rightly deserves. Oh, and there will be snap bracelets! Because 90s.”

Ellen blinks several times as Sarah finally takes a breath. The light in the girl’s eyes shine like little fires, and her pale face is flushed. Ellen takes a second to look at the crowd, and she sees similar looks of fervor within the eyes and rosy cheeks of the eclectic crowd of young women. She gulps and puts on her camera smile.

“Well, that certainly sounds fun! Now, I hear you are also a singer?”

Sarah flashes a smile...Ellen is pretty sure the perfection of those teeth cost at least a billion dollars to maintain...and gives her a wink.

“Yep! And I even prepared a surprise for you!”

Kenzi Grey-Lacklan sighs in contentment as she closes her book. Once again, Sarha the Teenage Vampire had successfully repelled the evil forces of the Witch-Queen of Chaotica, seduced three more of the Wolf Brothers into her harem, and raised her true love, the Wandering Bard Thespina, from her grave and wrestled her spirit back from the Land Beyond. She smiles as she sets aside Volume Two and picks up Volume Three, traces her fingers lovingly over the cover featuring the vampire heroine leaping onto a nameless villain with fangs bared, and-

“-or so help me!”

The sound of Sarah’s voice coming through the doorway makes her jump, and she quickly stuffs her “vampire smut” underneath the cushion. Sarah bursts into the green room of Ellen’s studio like a whirlwind, her red and black pleats flying all around, and she can’t help but smile as the small group of crew scampers to do whatever she had instructed them to do. Sarah slams the door behind her, plants her hands on her hips, juts them out JUST right, and flashes her big smile.

“How was the interview?”

Kenzi blinks a few times.


Sarah’s face flushes in a sudden burst of anger.

“My interview! With Ellen! Literally the reason why we’re here! You DID watch it, of course.”

Kenzi’s mouth opens wide.

“Oh! That! Oh, of COURSE I did.”

She subtly moves her hips to the left to fully conceal the romance novel which had actually occupied her attention.

“You did great, babe!”

Sarah’s anger dissipates and her smile returns.

“Many thanks, Beloved. Now help me get out of this thing so that I can change!”

Sarah quickly walks across the room, her heels clacking dully on the carpeted floor, and over to the room’s large mirror. Kenzi pushes herself to her feet, tosses her braids over her shoulder, and begins to help Sarah out of her dress. There were a LOT of buttons and pins and ribbons along the back of it, because her wife’s fashion sense was needly complicated...hell, she was just wearing a knee-high skirt and a tight top...and it took the better part of half an hour to get it sliding down her back.

Kenzi’s breath catches as she looks at Sarah’s back. She was wearing some of her workout gear underneath, since she knew she was going to need a costume change, and memories flood into Kenzi. A few years ago, under the pretense of “helping” her “stretch” before a big match, Sarah had done this exact thing: Shown up in all of her Blood Princess splendor and stripped to her workout gear, which was comprised of extremely short booty shorts and a sports bra that was so thin it might as well be painted on. That day, while Sarah did help her stretch out for the match, one thing had let to another and-

“Beloved? Are you okay?”

Sarah turns around to face Kenzi, and the starlet again finds difficulty breathing. Sarah was the most beautiful woman in the world, at least in her estimation. Pale white skin which had captivated her from Day One...especially when pressed against her own caramel skin...with a sharp face with high cheekbones and those odd red eyes. Sometimes Sarah liked to wear contacts that gave her a different color, and Kenzi hated that. Not today, though. Today, she proudly wore her thick glasses...bitch was blind as a bat...and had regular, clear contacts for the performance.

“Nothin’, babe. Just thinking.”

Sarah gives her a small smile, leans in for a pec on the cheek, and then turns back around.

“Grab my corset, yeah?”

Kenzi snags Sarah’s “rock” corset from the closet and shakes her head. Sarah had worn this outfit nearly every time she sang a rock song, starting with their infamous “Rock Battle” back in 2017...which ended with Sar blatantly cheating and Kenzi punching her in the eye...all the way to today.


Kenzi laughs as Sarah complains as they pull it on. Kenzi herself had a more “traditional” woman’s athletic body, with lean muscles made as much from basketball as anything else, but Sarah’s body was that of a bodybuilder. Sarah had always been proud of the “thousands and thousands” of squats she’d done since she was 14, right alongside her dad, but sometimes that meant not being able to fit in clothes! And she was a good ten pounds heavier now than she was when she first wore the outfit. She had lost a good deal of weight after the accident...those were dark times...but had gotten it back, and more, since. And while Sarah had always had a killer butt because of those squats, she was positively a Big Booty Judy now...much to Kenzi’s delight!

“Suck it in, Champ!”

“I’ll suck YOU in!”

A deep breath from Sarah is enough for Kenzi to pull on the last tie and close up the back of the corset. Sarah stands up straight, running her hands over her chest and stomach, and gives her reflection a discerning look.

“Remind me to commission Claire for a size up!”

Kenzi joins Sarah in laughing at how her goods were just about spilling out everywhere, and then her eyes run over all of Sarah’s exposed skin. She had gotten more work done on her cross tattoo...that ugly thing that was the symbol for her stupid that it had more shading. They had been giving their tattoo guy in Hollywood a LOT of work in the last few years! The tats of her dad on one shoulder and the cross on the other, the tats they got done for their wedding, and several of the smaller tats on her own arms. She still wishes Sarah hadn’t had started on the ink in the first place...her own stuff was to piss off her horrible mother, of course, so that was okay...but there was no stopping Sarah Lacklan when she decided to do something.

“What’s wrong?”

Kenzi sees the sudden concern in Sarah’s reflection, and then realizes that her own face has turned into a scowl. During her inspection of Sarah’s body, Kenzi’s eyes have stopped on the dark marks at the top of Sarah’s back, the fading bruises mostly hiding underneath the corset.

“That Charlie fucker.”

She runs her fingers on Sarah’s back, causing an involuntary shudder from her...always a plus to know that, even after the years, her touch got such an intimate reaction from her wife...and sighs. Sarah reaches up behind her, runs her fingers into Kenzi’s braids, and gives them a tug.

“He’ll get what’s coming to him. Hell, it’s already started!”

She turns around and faces Kenzi, the two women standing eye-to-eye, their heights a perfect match.

“Beating me up to send a message? Acceptable. But then attacking YOU on a show he could NEVER hang on? Just to send another message? That’s personal. And that’s why he’s in the hospital.”

Kenzi growls as she remembers being jumped by Charlie.

“That jackass! Bad enough I’m covered in claw marks from those stupid canine flerkens-”

“...tigers are cats, Beloved…”

“-and now my head hurts-”

“...and flerkens aren’t real, we’ve been through this…”

“-but MAN it felt GOOD to stomp his head in! It was fun to watch nearly every give the fucker his due, but cashing in that receipt was the highlight of the night! No one fucks with the Mafia without paying for it!”

Sarah giggles, which was still an odd sound coming from a woman known for causing so much misery.

“Damn straight! And by the time we get to Relentless, he’s going to wish he could just crawl back into whatever ditch he’s been living in for the last twenty years. Across the next two weeks, I’m going to berate him, analyse him, break him down, demoralize him, until he’s nothing but an apologetic pool of goo. Business is business, but making this personal means that I’m going to do everything in my power to eliminate him. I’ve got four more personal appearances scheduled all across SoCal before the show, and by the time I’m through outing him to be the bloated and over-indulged lowercard...and lowerclass...trash that he is, that he’ll-”

A knock on the door has the two turning their heads.

“Five minutes, Ma’am!”

The two turn their heads back to one another, and they press their foreheads together. Their eyes close as they slowly move their heads left and right, applying light pressure in a movement back from the earliest days of when best friends became lifetime partners. But then the memory of that first “stretch” comes back to Kenzi and a heated chuckle slips from her.

“Five minutes? How much you want to be I can get you there with time to spare?”

Kenzi can feel Sarah’s eyes roll behind her eyelids...but she didn’t say no!

“Welcome back!”

Ellen smiles and waves at the crowd after getting the cue to end the commercial break.

“It’s been quite a show so far, don’t you think?”

The roar from the crowd is nearly deafening. Along with the way WAY over interview with Sarah...her producer was NOT happy with the amount of editing they were going to have to do for THAT thing…”kill your darlings,” indeed...they had a crazy animal rights activist on to talk about some injustice of tigers being held at some ranch in Texas...which sounded like the next Netflix well as make-up tips from some glam rock fossil named Vinnie. But now the surprise that everyone was waiting for…

“But now it’s time to REALLY have some fun. Ladies and...well, again, ladies...California’s own...RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS!”

The crowd rises to their feet as the foursome make their way out from the back. An army of techs push their equipment onto a stage as the band waves for the crowd and exchanges high fives. With the professional precision of a road time, the band’s gear is set up within a minute. Chad sits on his stool and bangs out a few practice paradiddles and cymbal crashes, while a shirtless Flea strums a baseline and John runs his fingers down the neck of his 6-string. Anthony waves his long hair around to the delight of the crowd, and smiles as he takes up a microphone stand.

“Hello, Warner Bros!”

The crowd cheers for the cheap pop.

“We wanted to sing a song for you okay with that?”

The crowd pops again for him and he gives a wide smile.

“A few years ago, we wrote a song about...well...the pleasure and pain of a certain...let’s go with substance. You might call it...Charlie.”

Another pop from the crowd.

“Well, a certain someone reached out to us and asked if we could have a little fun with it. Joining me on vocals...Sarah Lacklan!”

The crowd jumps up and down as Sarah Lacklan comes back out on the stage, this time wearing an ill-fitting white and red corset and heeled boots which go up to her knees. Her hair and make-up is in full disarray, as if she had been tossed around like a ragdoll in the back...which makes Ellen flush knowingly as she walks by...she’s been there, let me tell you...but it adds to the ensemble. Sarah gives a high-five to the band members as she stomps by, finally taking the microphone from Anthony.

Flea and John begin playing a syncopated beat together for a couple of measures while Anthony and Sarah dance around, followed by Chad joining them with crashes and a traditional rock backbeat. After a few more bars, Sarah takes the mic.

Relentless, Uni match
Get yours, got mine
Beating jobbers, I'll be there
Lay down, get beat
I’m gonna do it, at the Rose Bowl
Sit back, prone bone
No one’s seen this guy on TV at home
This jobber’s...unknown

When they start and ring that bell
Charlie’s gonna run like hell
Robert Main, save me some
Charlie get up on your run

As the band builds to the chorus, Anthony leans down so that he can join Sarah on vocals, his dark hair standing out in contrast to Sarah’s platinum.

I’m much more than
Charlie's jobbin’ to me
I’m the champ and
Charlie's stalkin’ me
I’m Relentless
And Charlie's makin’ me...
And Charlie's makin' me WIN!

Sarah and Anthony dance around on the stage, kicking their feet and getting close to the crowd, as the band heads into the repeat. Sarah’s Billion $$$ Smile is wide as she goes back to the mic stand.

Everybody, to the Abyss
Get the Falcon, on Ken’s fist
Lunge around like a technician
Lay down, get tapped
Shane Carver and he always cries
Big pussy, gets ignored
Even Charlie, so extreme
Same as...super dick

When they start and ring that bell
Charlie’s gonna run like hell
Robert Main, save me some
Charlie get up on your run

A quick solo from John is punctuated by Anthony grinding on the microphone stand while Sarah does a quick dance with Ellen...who then joins them on the chorus.

I’m much more than
Charlie's jobbin’ to me
I’m the champ and
Charlie's stalkin’ me
I’m Relentless
And Charlie's makin’ me...
And Charlie's makin' me WIN!

My belt, your loss
This match, we’re in
It doesn’t end until I am done!

I’m right, you’re wrong
You don’t, belong
I will send you in to God’s bright Light!

Anthony dances with a few girls as Sarah gives Ellen a big hug after the bridge. They are all smiles as they come together for another chorus.

When they start and ring that bell
Charlie’s gonna run like hell
Robert Main, save me some
Charlie get up on your run

All I ever want to do
Is beat up fat losers like you
Slip into the Pigeon Wing
Clam up and tap like hell

I’m much more than
Charlie's jobbin’ to me
I’m the champ and
Charlie's stalkin’ me
I’m Relentless
And Charlie's makin’ me...
And Charlie's makin' me WIN!

My belt, your loss
This match, we’re in
It doesn’t end until I am done!

I’m right, you’re wrong
You don’t belong
I will send you in to God’s bright Light!

My belt, your loss
This match, we’re in
It doesn’t end until I am done!

I’m right, you’re wrong
You don’t, belong
I will send you in to God’s bright Light!

Flea and John continue to shred as the song comes to a close. Ellen pulls the microphone from Sarah as she puts her arms around both the lead singer and the champion wrestler.

“Tune in to XWF’s Relentless Pay-Per-View for three days of action in Southern California! All headlined by Sarah Lacklan vs. Charlie Nickles. Good night, everyone!”

The Red Hot Chili Peppers come to the front of the stage, lining up with Sarah in between them, and the five give the crowd and cameras a deep bow.
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