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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » "Savage Saturday Night" RP Board
"Loverboy" - Black or White
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Vincent Lane Offline
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#1
12-20-2014, 08:42 AM Heart  "Loverboy" - Black or White -->




Outside the high-end Los Angeles apartments where “Loverboy” Vinnie Lane and his gorgeous fiancée, Roxy Cotton, make their home, a ridiculously pimped out 1964 Impala swerves into the parking lot. The oversized rims don’t stop spinning even though the wheels do, and the deep bass vibrating the windows of every nearby apartment intensifies as the passenger door opens.

Stepping out of the passenger door amidst a haze of smoke is Loverboy himself, dressed to the nines in his most cock rockiest ensemble. Waving away the cloud of weed vapor, Loverboy turns and slams the door shut, momentarily dampening the thudding bass until the driver’s side door opens, reviving it.

“Dude, you crack me up, man. You really thought taking me down to Compton would freak me out like it did Samuels? I chill there all the time and down forties like a fuckin’ pro.”

Then, the music shuts off and TJ Wallace rises from his side of the car smiling with bright white teeth and bloodshot eyes.

“Oh, you think you bad?”

“I know I’m bad. You know it. And the whole world has to answer right now just to tell you once again who’s bad!”

“Really, bruh?”

“Yeah, what? MJ was awesome. RIP and all that shit. But for real, dude, tell me again what you said to Heartsford that one time? What’d you call him?”

“A bukkake loving shitfalcon.”

Loverboy doubles over laughing, grabbing at his sides. After a moment he composes himself and resumes walking toward the apartment with TJ.

“I also called him an orangutan tittie lickin' .”

This time Loverboy actually drops to one knee, slapping at the pavement while losing his breath trying to stop laughing. Wallace shakes his head and keeps walking towards the apartments.

“I’m tapping out, dude! That shit is too damn funny! No wonder he looked so uncomfortable at the Underground meeting!”

“That dank shit hittin’ you hard, bruh. I thought you said you was a G? Come on, man, I got to shit.”

Loverboy stands and dusts himself off, walking quickly to catch up to TJ. The two get to Loverboy’s apartment and he pulls out his keys to unlock the door, complete with a bright pink rabbit’s foot keychain.

“I am a G, dude, don’t worry about it, my nigga!”

“WHOA! What the fuck?”

“What?”

“Don’t call me ‘my nigga.’ You don’t get to say ‘my nigga.’ That’s our shit. You got your shit, we got our shit. ‘Nigga’ is our shit. You fuckin’ white motherfuckers always want to take shit.”

“Hey, hey, chill out, homie, I –“

“Fuck. NO!”

“What now?”

“Don’t call me ‘homie.’ No ‘homie,’ no ‘nigga,’ none of that shit, bruh. You stick to sayin’ ‘dude’ every three words and leave the gangsta talk to the people that earned it, alright?”

“Ah, come on, dude, it’s not like that… I’m cool, I’m not a racist. Me and Roxy love you people. Here. Pound it.”

Loverboy extends his fist awkwardly towards Wallace, waiting for a fist bump. Wallace stares at him icily and leaves him hanging.

“Open the motherfuckin’ door you dumbass.”

Loverboy scowls and his keys jiggle as he unlocks the apartment door. The two step inside and Wallace looks around at the expensive furnishings, whistling at the sight.

“Shit, man, this place is tight. You and your bitch are livin’ large up in this shit.”

“Uh, yup. That’s how me and my bitch roll!”

“Shut up. Where’s the bathroom, Vinnie?”

“Right down there, man, just don’t touch any of Roxy’s shit. You know how women are.”

“Yeah, cool.”

Wallace walks into the bathroom and Loverboy makes his way to the kitchen area, pulling some Wonder Bread and cold cuts from the fridge and going through the motions of making a few bologna sandwiches. His cell phone chirps to life, screaming the sound of Van Halen’s 1991 hit, “Right Now,” Kirk MacClay’s ringtone.

Loverboy plops the phone onto the counter and presses the button for it to answer on speaker, then goes back to spreading lunch meat and mayonnaise on his white bread.

“Yo, you got the megastar! What’s up Kirk?”

“Vinnie! You’ve got to get to work, man, what are you doing?”

“What are you talking about? I’m making lunch. TJ’s here. We’re talking about future plans and shit. I’ve been working all week, dude.”

“Frodo dropped another promo on you, that’s two in a row since that last time anyone heard anything from you! And you’ve barely acknowledged him all week!”

“Yeah. I don’t like him.”

“Nobody likes him, that’s not the point! This is about your image! You’re the face of the Underground! Did you even see the promos?”

“Yeah, I saw them. Tired shit, same old crap. I’m a , you’re a , everyone we know is a . Dude’s reaching. He even talked about me using hair bleach. I mean, what the fuck, Kirk? Why do I have to make the guy look stupid when he’s doing it all by himself? I’d rather just eat this fucking sandwich, you know?”

Loverboy plops a slice of bread on top of a mass of mayo and presses it down onto the bologna, picking the sandwich up and taking a gargantuan bite.

“Vinnie, you’ve got to work the fans up, man! Yeah, you’ll kick Frodo’s ass in the ring on Sunday, and you’ll win that bullshit gauntlet too, but we need people to remember YOU from all of this. The way it’s going, the only thing people are gonna remember about Christmas Shove It is Frodo running his mouth and shit talking you. You don’t have to respond to everything he says, that would be pointless, but you damn well know he’s gonna bring up every little sentence you miss so try at least.”

“You mean like how I must be a homo because I didn’t expressly state otherwise, regardless of the fact that I’m engaged to an actual woman and he’s fraudulently married to a dude?”

“Yes, exactly like that. Look, I had Heartsford hook you up with a Cambot. I gave it to Roxy when I ran into her at the office.”

“What the fuck do I need a cambot for? Everyone sees everything somehow anyway.”

“Just use it, Vinnie. We’re a team, after all, we need to act like one. Pool our resources. I’m working on getting us all some great opportunities and getting you guys some title shots. Trios, Tag, Prophetic, whatever you want.”

"I want the Uni. You know this. Hey, I got into the Christmas spirit a little bit at least dude, you want me to text you what I got for Frodo?"

Loverboy hits a couple of buttons and sends over a screengrab from Amazon.com.


[Image: y8nBWch.png]


"What the fuck is that?"

"It's a She-Wee. A Go Girl. It's so he can finally piss standing up and stop being a bitch."

"Ha! See? THAT'S funny! You should put that in a promo!"

"I'll think about it."

The door to the apartment opens and Roxy Cotton walks in, beaming and carrying a few bags. She sees Loverboy with his mouth full and heads his way with a smile on her face and her arms extended for an embrace. Loverboy points at the phone on the counter and motions with finger over his mouth for Roxy to keep it down.

Roxy nods and kisses Loverboy on the cheek, then steals one of his sandwiches and takes a bite. Loverboy watches and mouths to her silently:

“I thought you were a vegetarian now?”

He sticks his tongue at her and she replies in a whisper,

“I am. It fauxlogna. Duh.”

Roxy sets her bags down and walks away as the bewildered Loverboy looks closer at the package of lunch meat.

“Motherfucker!”

“What? Vinnie, what are you motherfuckering?”

“Nothing, dude, there’s just deceptive tactics going on in my refrigerator.”

“Vinnie I have no clue what the fuck you’re going on about, but you need to focus. You need to cut some promos. Make them funny. Talk some trash. Look how successful John Samuels is, that guy’s hilarious! You know how politicians win elections, Vinnie? They make sure everywhere you look you see their face. It doesn’t matter what they do in office, or what you do in the ring, to the common man. They vote for who they know. We need your face EVERYWHERE. Do you want me to get you one of those goofy insult generators online like Mick Manson uses?”

“What? No, dude, don’t be ridiculous. I like to actually make sense when I talk.”

Loverboy looks into Roxy’s bags and pulls out the cambot, along with an instructional booklet. He rolls it around on the countertop absently while flipping through the pages of the booklet.

“This thing has night vision?”

“Oh, you got the cambot! Good! You can start work on a promo right away then. Use Wallace if he’s still there.”

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!!”

“AAAAHH! OW! BITCH! What the FUCK!”

“Uh, yeah, he’s still here…”

Roxy comes running out of the bathroom with a can of Aqua Net hairspray in her hand. She runs behind Vinnie and grabs him for protection.

“Vinnie! Baby! Some black guy is in the apartment! He tried to rape me!”

“Vinnie what’s going on?”

“Roxy, uh…”

Then, TJ Wallace emerges from the bathroom with his pats around his knees and his black mamba swinging around in front of him. He rubs and claws at his face with both hands, stumbling around and bumping into things.

“Vinnie, god damn it, that dumb bitch maced me, bruh! I was just taking a dump, I ain't try to rape nobody! What the fuck is this shit?”

“Vinnie? Vinnie!”

“Uh, Kirk, I gotta go, dude, Wallace’s dick is out.”

“WHAT?”

Loverboy hangs up on the call, then puts an arm around Roxy and tries to talk to her in a soothing voice.

“Roxy… sweetie… I need you to chill, okay? I want you to meet my friend, TJ Wallace!”

Wallace stands there, dumbfounded, still trying to rub the hairspray out of his eyes and still swinging his massive African dong around in the middle of the kitchen.

“Vinnie! Are you kidding me? You couldn’t tell me there was some scary black guy taking a shit in my bathroom?”

“Relax, baby, I was about to!”

“Yo, FUCK this bullshit, bruh. I’m getting the fuck out of here.”

Wallace tucks his cock back into his pants and heads for the door, cussing and mumbling the whole way. He opens the doors and as he leaves he turns back to Loverboy and Roxy.

“Dumbass white bitch act like she never seen a brother’s BBC before.”

TJ looks around at the posh apartment again.

“Still better than the ‘hood though.”

He slams the door.

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