Please Login or Register to get full access to the forums.

Lost Password?
Current time: 03-28-2024, 04:16 PM (time should display as Pacific time zone; please contact Admin if it appears to be wrong)                                                                


X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » Turning Point PPV
What the Fuck Went Wrong?
Author Message
Maverick Offline
With Fire in My Soul, I Return.



XWF FanBase:
Mixed

(loved by some; hated by some; dips between clean/dirty)


#1
01-18-2015, 01:55 PM

Thursday, January 15th, 2014
Six Days Until Turning Point
Mansion of Maverick
12:30 P.M.


Point of View- Mav

“Shit!”

The wood of the nearby wall exploded as I brought my balled- up fist through it. The haunting memories of Madness and Warfare came tunneling after me, the laughing, and, and, the humiliation, and, nevertheless, I was obviously in a bad mood from the moment I woke up.

“Why, why, why? How the fuck can it be that hard to win a match? I’m given the most opportunistic chances possible, and yet I still can’t buy a goddamn match! Sure, I get an eight- man tag victory over a couple of jobbers, but…. Fuck, what is a man to do in this kind of situation?” I brought my hands to my face as I softly moaned into them, the pain from yesterday shooting through me as if it just happened now. Ah yes, I remember it quite clearly now. The match with TJ, and how I fucked up, and now how I can’t be a part of that Universal Championship #1 Contender’s match, and-

I took a deep breath, and calmed myself. Focus, Solomon. Worry about your opponent for this week.

I reached for my phone, pulling the Nokia Lumina towards me as I pulled up the official XWF website.

“Now, let’s see here, my match, my match, my match….. Well, this is interesting.”

The card read:


TV Title Gauntlet Match
Gator ©
- vs -
Mastermind
- vs -
Maverick
- vs -
Aerial Knight
Singles match, one fall. 15 minute time limit.
CHAMPION'S ADVANTAGE: Champion can post two RPs a day.
Challenger can only post one per day.



“A Gauntlet match for the Television Championship… Well, this will be quite a challenge. But, if I am to win… Hnnnnnng.”

“Ickle Mavvykins, oh boy, oh boy, have you gotten yourself in a bit of a pickle.”

I spun around, and of course, who else would call me Ickle Mavvykins but Un?

“Un, I’m in no mood for your fucking bullshit, so whatever crap this is, make it quick. Unless, you’re here to suck more of my blood, and finish the deed. In that fucking case, take your fucking shot.”

“Tch. Please. I do have some honor, you know.”

“You have strange ways of showing it.”

“Please, Ickle Mavvykins, the fact I’m not attacking you or killing you now proves this.” Un had begun sauntering around me whilst saying his peace. “The fact is, I’d like to take… more pride when it comes to defeating my… arch- nemesis? I’m not exactly sure what I should call you, you aren’t around to stop my schemes 24/7 like an ordinary hero would against the big bad. No, rival sounds much better. Anyway, I’m getting off topic here. The fact that you’re not winning your matches seems to be a huge confidence drainer. I won’t exactly feel better about myself if I can’t beat you fair and square, so I’m here to present you with two options.”

“Oh? And what might those two options be?”

Un held out both hands, and asked, “Pick a hand, and I will show you the consequence of the choice held in each hand.”

“Right hand.”

Un smiled his sinister smile, almost as if he wanted me to pick that first. He unraveled his hand, showing… a scroll?

“Yes, I can tell you’re confused. This ancient scroll happens to be an ancient spell from my race, which you know as a parasite, and it is known as the Mergus technique.”

“Wait, I don’t understand. How could parasites- who are known to be microscopic- happen to have a large community dated back to the point where you’d consider that spell ancient? Hell, how do you even have spells?”

Un lowered his eyelids at me, before sighing, “Mr. Solomon, you are a part of a federation that has escaped convicts, rapists, failed rockstars, wanna- be knights, the self- proclaimed “King of Darkness,” and, before getting fired, an actual alien from the stars, and you’re calling me out just for being a parasite that happens to morph into people, have especially long fangs, and a community that dates back to ancient times?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Hmph. Who’s to say the ancient Metamorphians- plural for our race, singular is Metamorphus- couldn’t take the form of other people and then have the more scholarly people of our race write the spell?”

“Well, I can see where you’re coming from. But your… language, it’s… strange. It has a lot of English root words. I mean, Mergus? Metamorphus? That’s just waaay too fishy.”

“Bah. Growing up around humans, the majority of us either in America or in Britain, we decided to center our language off of the English language. Thus, you can hear a lot of English root words. Now then, as I was getting to before I was so rudely interrupted, the Mergus technique will have us join. Well, not exactly. It’s more like, I enter your mind and remain there, assisting you.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Put it like this: A union of parasite and human. The mental strengths of the parasite and human, whilst the parasite need not spread through the outer world.”

“Ah, yes, interesting. And what of the other hand?”

Un opened it to reveal… painkillers? “Highest dosage of morphine I could find on the streets.”

“What’s the meaning of this?”

“Why, it’s quite simple, Ickle Mavvykins. If you are unable to win this match, even with my help, then I know that you as my rival who will challenge me, help me better myself is not to be. Thus, this will be your price- if you are to fail in this match, if you are to fail in capturing the Television Championship- then you must pay the ultimate sacrifice. Win, however? Not only do you get a neat looking leather belt with some gold on it, you now have something that will entice the Underground to face you. Not only will you have beaten Mr. Heart, but now you can use that to ensure Mr. Lane and Mr. Wallace will step into the ring with you. Oh, and I’m sure it doesn’t hurt that you can use that to entice Mr. Swann as well.”

I have to admit, the offer was enticing. Help to beat Heartsford and Gator? But, something stuck out in my mind. You have to be crazy if you accept this offer. He’s offering you help for your life. Not to mention, you’d be getting a cheap ass win if you do win. So, if you accept, you either get a cheap win, or you die. Sounds like a lose- lose situation. I found myself agreeing to this voice.

I sighed, and said, “Y’know, Un, I have to admit, your offer is pretty enticing. However, I can’t help but feel that this is a lose- lose situation. I appreciate the help, but no thanks.”

“Hmph. So be it. You try to be a good guy, and things fall through. Have fun dicking around at Turning Point, Ickle Mavvykins.”

Un raised his hands innocently, and walked out of my mansion.





Saturday, January 17th, 2015
3:00 P.M.


“Alright, so it seems as though I’m being thrusted into a Television title match. Gator, Mastermind, and Heartsford, let me make one thing clear. This week, I’m not going to waste time, making claims I’m going to win. I’m going to respect you guys as competitors. Am I still going to crack jokes about you, and call you guys dipshits and what not? Well, yeah, because that’s how I simply roll in the art of trash talk. Now then, let’s begin.”

I pulled over three packets, each containing written transcripts of their promos.

“Let’s see now. We should go by who will be the first challenger for Gator, so Mastermind is up first.”

“Mastermind, the fuck are you doing, going around hosting talk shows? Are you trying to be Justin Sane? Because if so, you fail horribly. At least Sane is somewhat watchable, you just go out there, show past shows nobody cares about, and then cut the worst trash talk I have ever seen. Now, your original promo. You’re saying this is a Fatal Four Way match? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA- oh wait, you’re serious. Listen here, dipshit. This is a Gauntlet Match. Oh, I’m sorry, do you not know what a Gauntlet Match is? Then let me put it into simple terms for your fragile mind to comprehend.”

“Okay now. The match starts out with two people, and it goes like a normal match. You are going to be out there first, along with Gator. Gator is going to pin you, 1- 2- 3. Then I’m going to come out, and then we’re going to have our match. Then, Heartsford will come out, and either me or Gator, depending on who won our match, will face Heartsford. Then, the winner of that match will be the new Television Champion- a luxury, I’m afraid to say, will not be yours.”

“Let’s see what else you’re saying here… We’ve never faced off before? BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”


I doubled over due to the laughter pouring out of his face, but I righted myself after a few minutes.

“Mastermind, I think you have selective memory. Seriously. Must have been from taking too many finishers. Seriously, do you not remember the Eight- Man Tag Match? It was even your ass getting pinned too! Now, I can imagine what you’re going to say. ‘Oh, I wasn’t fighting my hardest,’ or, ‘Oh, I was distracted for whatever reason because I’m a .’ But the thing is, a win is a win. Hell, it was because of you I got off my massive losing streak, despite the efforts of one John Black, but he’ll get his in the future. Now, onto your little talk show.”

“You say we should get some new content, because all we ever say is that you lose and you suck for that? I can’t speak for the others, but last time I checked, I never said you suck because you always lose. Hell no. You see, here, I hardly, if ever, bring up a person’s record if I’m trash talking them up. Sure, I may bring up huuuuge mistakes from their previous matches, but that isn’t the point. What is the point is that you are an astronomical dipshit who makes more mistakes then Peter Gilmour and his narrator saying ‘digress.’”

“After that, you go on to choke out some babble that seemed directed towards Heartsford and Gator, so I’m not going to crack that little nut. Instead, I’m moving on to Johnathon Heartsford.”

“Let’s see here, you say I shit on the belt even though it’s recorded proof X-Pac dumped it in, moving on… Ah, here we are. After spewing some shit at Mastermind and Gator, you finally move onto me. Anyway, you go onto say there’s nothing perfect about me. And let me tell you- you’re right.”

“Yeah, I know, shocker. ‘Maverick is openly admitting he’s not perfect? LE GASP,’ you will say, bringing your cupped hand to your mouth. Let me tell you of a quote, Mr. Heartsford. ‘Practice does not make perfect. Only perfect practice makes perfect.’ Now, I could have sworn I have used that before in a promo, but that isn’t the case. That quote is how I live, how I dedicate myself each and every single, goddamn day. I’m constantly trying to better myself, to perfect myself. Other things have gotten in the way, such as the Un incident. Oh, and by the way, if any of you three fuckers try and use the Un argument against me- I know Heartsford has already, fuck off, I’ve only blamed myself since Tag Team Tenacity. No Un in sight. Anyway, what else have you got here… Wait, do I sense a nitpick coming on? You say we’ve had three matches, okay, that’s true. But then, you say, ‘the fifth time.’ The fuck? This would be our fourth time facing off, not the fifth. Moving on… You go on to say how maybe I can lose in a spectacular fashion before you come out… Nothing major there. Next promo…”


When flipping to the next promo, he freezes, for a split second. It’s hardly noticeable, but still, it’s noticeable. Mav rights himself, then says, “Well, who the fuck knew. We have yet another orphan. Three orphans- me, Heartsford, and Mastermind. Knight, I’m not going to raise words that you cried whilst in your memories. What I am going to raise words about is how you brand yourself, ‘an honorable knight,’ yet you call pretty much every female you raise eyes on a wench. Like, the fuck? If you have a problem with how ladies treat others, then show them your way of life, and then they won’t fit your definition of a wench. Oh wait, that’s right, I forgot, every female is a wench to you. Seriously. Show me one female that wouldn’t be considered a wench to you. Oh, and by the way, I’ve heard that Frodo wants to meet you back in the closet. I wouldn’t keep him waiting.”

“Let’s see now, we’ve gone through Mastermind and Heartsford, so all that’s left is Gator, or as I will refer to him as, Lazarus’ twin brother.”


I chucked the transcript of Heartsford’s promos to where the transcript of Mastermind’s promos lay, and then Mav goes rifling through the transcripts of Gator’s promos.

“First promo, you didn’t do much, Lazarus’ twin brother, except giving us some facts. *Goes into a sarcastic voice* How riveting! I mean, I’m sure everyone back stage wants to go through matches that are months old!” I put a hand to my forehead, returning to my normal voice. “For fuck’s sake Lazarus’ twin brother, we already have Mastermind Television for reliving the past, and that’s already fucking boring. Anyway, what else in your other promos… Alright. In your second trash talk promo, you actually give me a compliment for once and say that I actually showed promise, but then it goes to shit and you say I’m just a ghost who gets thrown into matches to make others feel better. It is as I said earlier. Other, pressing matters took my focus, though I won’t be dealing with it this week. Kid gloves are off this week. You want us to give you a hard match, to make you break a sweat? Lazarus’ twin brother, you need only ask. You want my best, you want my A- game? You’re going to get it. Just do me a solid and don’t complain when I win the Television Championship? Thanks.”

The footage fades to black.

1x Hart Champion
1x Tag Team Champion
1x Xtreme Champion
Edit Hate Post Like Post




Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)