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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » "Anarchy Special" RP Board
Mud-day Night Madness
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Muddy Waters
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#1
04-06-2015, 11:30 AM

“Late again Muddy… Your ass is fired!!!”

“Fuckin’ great…”

*BANG*


Muddy slams the door from his bosses office as he walks out into the warehouse. He can hear his ex-coworkers snickering amongst themselves as he barrels through to and out of the main entrance.

Muddy is a big ass dude, so they damn-well know better than to ever talk about him openly, or to his face. Standing about six foot five and two hundred and thirty pounds of unadulterated muscle and brawn the guy just looked scary… but instead of walking over to his asshole coworkers and easily kicking the shit out of each and every one of them, Muddy just pulls his shades off from the collar of his black t-shirt and puts them over his irritated eyes.


Dealing with dickheaded bosses was nothing new to Muddy, employers always seem to stick it to ex-cons a little harder than your regular dainty douchebag workforce members. Muddy drags his way out to the gravel covered parking lot, and hops into his 1985 Drop-Top Chevy Corvette, but sorry to louse up your imagination if I did, this ride has seen better days. The car is sanded down and the muffler sounds like an M-80 explosion as he fires the engine up.

Muddy peels out, slinging gravel all over his boss’s shiny Ford F-150, dust and smoke rising up like whirlwind as we hear his tires screeching off down the main road. Ah! Muddy spots J&B’s Bait Shop down the road, which is also a tiny pool hall and liquor store, matter of fact the only bait they sale is some containers of dug-up earth worms kept in bowl in a little dorm fridge… but damn their liquor is cheap!

“Back again Muuuuddy?”

The nice little lady with the jacked up teeth hanging out the drive through window asks,

“That’s right baby doll, lemme’ get half pint of Ol’ Gran Dad.”

Muddy fumbles around the couple of crumbled up dollar bills and change from his pocket. He snatches the brown bagged pint and slaps the money in the lady’s hand, dropping some of the change onto the ground and speeds off,

“HEY MUUUUUDDY! YOU SHORTED ME AGAIN YOU SON OVA BITCH!”

…Red Light…


Right in the middle of downtown, and right in front of the damned police station, Muddy reaches under his seat and grabs a hot Miller Highlife out, he cracks the tops and guzzles down about half of the beer. He reaches over in his passenger seat and grabs the whiskey, his hand shaking a bit he spills some of the whiskey onto the rim of the beer can while re-filling what he’d drank.

“BOILER MAKER!!!”



Muddy chugs the drink down and smashes the beer can on his forehead, shouting and blaring the radio:

“IT AINT ME… IT AINT ME… I AINT NO SENATORS SON… NO NO!!!”


“CCR BAY-BE!!!!”

…Green Light…


Muddy slings the beer can out of the Drop-Top and hits a cop car before speeding off toward his home. It's just damn amazing how quickly he gets drunk anymore.

WELCOME TO IMPERIAL TRAILER PARK:
The Home of your dreams is waiting…


Reads the weathered, once white entrance sign to the trailer park that now has swastikas and various curse words spray painted onto it- One of those signs with a cheesy Sixtiesesque illustration of some Baby Boomer family all gay about moving into their new trailer. Where the smiling father is waving, there’s a dick markered on by his mouth… that type of sign.

Muddy’s stereo can be heard still blasting CCR as he rolls up in front of his trailer. The Drop-Top Chevy now materializing amid the slowly settling dust…

“SOME FOLKS INHERIT… STAR-SPANGLED EYES…OOOH, THEY SEND YOU DOWN TO WAR, LORD AND WHEN YOU ASK ‘EM… ‘HOW MUCH SHOULD WE GIVE?’… OOOH, THEY ONLY ANSWER ‘MORE, MORE!’”


Muddy cuts off the engine, again, another M-80 like explosion from the tailpipe. He staggers a bit from the vehicle and makes his way up the decaying wooden stoop steps to the sliding glass door of his ever incredibly sordid single-wide trailer home. The old love seat on the stoop seems to be growing some sort of fungus out of it…

Muddy slides the door open,

“NADINE! …Nadine baby I’ve got bad news.”

He declares while barreling inside, not noticing his surroundings at first while flipping through some overdue bill mail that was in the mailbox. He looks up to see his daughter sitting on the couch, watching some Teen Wolf’s Pregnant at 16 House-Wives reality crap on MTV.

“Hey Dolly baby…”

Muddy looks at the T.V.

“You know you orta’ not be watchin’ is’? Where’s Momma?”

Dolly looks up at her dad, the eighteen year-old stuck in a ten year-olds body twirling her hair and rolling her eyes. She motions with facial expressions toward the backroom.

Muddy looks up, and while focusing his sense begins hearing some awful sounding grunts and moans. His brow wrinkles and fists tighten as he marches toward the back, the sickening sounds growing more prevalent along the way.

He slowly turns the brass knob on the little wood panel door, the groaning is disgustingly loud. Muddy pushes the door all the way open to see a fat bulge moving slowly under his bed sheets,

“Who is your shepherd?!? Tell me who’s your shepherd!!”

A moaning man commands,

“Oooh baby! The LORD IS MY SHEPHERD! HE GIVE ME WHAT I WANT!!!”

Muddy’s wife responds,

Sitting propped up against the side of the door is Muddy’s 12 gauge shotgun… he ponders killing both of them for a moment as he finds that his hand has unconsciously made its way to the barrel. Muddy shakes it off though and just breathes deep through his nose and exhales out of his mouth and begins to slowly approach the edge of the bed.

“AAAAHHHH!!! DON’T KILL ME PLEASE!!!!”

The sliding glass door to the trailer shatters as the fat fuck who was banging Muddy’s wife goes hurling through it and rolls down the steps. The shirtless fatso gets up only wearing a pair of blood-stained white undies and takes off tumbling down the gravel road, Muddy slings his suit out of the glass door and slings one of his penny loafers at him, hitting him in the back of the dead and causing him to fall over,

“Don’t you worry Pastor Buddy! I knowd’ all about what the Bible says bout forgivin’ and all! TELL YER’ LOVELY WIFE I SAID HELLO!!!”

Back inside Muddy is sitting on the couch, trying to look around his wife Nadine who’s standing in front of him and blocking his view of the T.V., Lethal Lottery III is on…

“See Muddy? This is the problem, yer’ lazy ass don’t wanna’ do nothin’ but watch and talk about rasslin’.”

“Would you shut the fuck up you whorin’ cunt? Fuckin’ Unknown Soldier is kicin’ some serious ass right now…”

“I’m takin’ Dolly and we’re leavin, we’re movin’ into Pastor Buddy’s mobile home ‘cross town. He’s got money, and an expensive ass hair piece… I’m done with yer’ ass.”

“Uhhh huh, whatever, but you aint takin’ Dolly nowhere.”

Dolly sits next to her father and crosses her arms, as his eyes are still fixated on the T.V., Nadine storms out the door…

“Fuck the both of you!”

A commercial flashes on the T.V.:


“Think you can hang with the big boys of XWF? Well Mr. Paul Heyman is recruiting YOU! For the XWF Monday Night Proving Grounds!!! If you’re lucky enough to make the cut you could earn COLD HARD CASH!!! 1,000 dollars a match, 5,000 dollars a win! Have you got what it takes?!?! CALL THIS NUMBER NOW!!!
666-666-6666”


“Dad… maybe you’d be good at that? You know more bout’ rasslin than anyone I’d ever met”

Muddy begins slowly nodding,

“…Right on… Right… On…”

Monday, April 06, 2015 , Cincinnati, OH
…A House Show Taping…




Theory of a Deadman’s I Hate My Life cues over the loud speakers, after a moment or so of the song playing out walks Muddy Waters wearing dark shades, a wife-beater and black jeans. He’s holding a microphone in one hand and a can of Miller Highlife in the other. The music cuts off and he begins speaking while walking down toward the ring:

“My name is Muddy Waters!!! …and I’m the most bonafide, baddest ass kickin’ machine, beer-guzzlin’ bastard they’ ever was. They call me the Pride of Pike County Kentucky, where all we know is liquor sippin’, ass kickin’ and a little bit about basketball.”

Muddy makes his way into the ring,

“It’s a damn good feelin’ bein’ here in SIN…CINNATI, OHI’AH TONIGHT!”

The crowd pops big time, they seem to love this guy…

“Now let the truth be told, I’mma’ new guy ‘round XWF, but that aint gunna’ stop me from raisin’ as much hell and kickin’ as much ass as possible! Come next Monday night, I’mma’ turn Monday Night Madness into MUD-day Night Madness here in Cincinnati when I proceed to stomp a size 12 Mud Hole in Cohen Horne’s sweet ass and drag him from end to end to this here arena!

I’ve always been told all my life that I’d never be nothin’, and to be honest with ya’ I’m sick and tired of hearin’ it that bullshit…

If you’ve ever been down on yer’ luck…”

“WHAT?!?”

The crowd shouts out, they’re eating this guy up, he seems to remind them of a certain redneck superstar,

“Drunker’ than a skunk…”

“WHAT?!?”

“And still not given’ a fuck…”

“WHAT?!?”

“…Then you’ve prolly’ felt a little bit like Muddy Waters. I aint gotta’ damn thang’ ta’ lose either, cause win, lose or draw, at the end of MUD-day Night- Mr. Paul Heyman’s fat ass is gunna’ be writin’ Muddy Waters a fat ass check and where I come from a thousand bucks get ya’ plenty of beer and plenty of pussy.

But go on now and let it be known, if that scarf wearin’ pansy ass Corn Holenin’ Horne thinks is gunna’ walk in here and not receive the ass beatin’ of his life he’s way out of line. Muddy Waters don’t play no damn games, so when I grab his little ass up and take em’ to my world by droppin’ him on his sissy-ass neck with the Pike County Plunge, prolly through a table or on that there damned concrete floor, Colon Hornsby and the whole damned XWF is gunna’ be on notice that this redneck is here to kick ass and make money.

I told yall that I’mma’ rookie, but it don’t matter… I’ve been ah’ watchin’ rasslin’ since I’s ah’ young’n way back in them days of Piper, Hogan, Harley, Snuka, Savage, the list goes on and on brotha’, but my point is, I’ve watched this Blowin’ Horne, Colon Stone, Corn Holin’, who gives a rats ass Horne rasslin’ before and he looks a little out of place. The boy may have a purdy little mouth piece and can flap his damn gums, from here to Reno- but I just recently watched him have his ass handed to em’ at Lethal Lottery III, and I fully expect Muddy Waters to do the same damn thang’ come Mud-day Night Madness!”

Muddy cracks his beer open, and raises it up to the crowd who are going ape-shit,

“…Again, if you’ve ever felt a little bit like Muddy Waters, hows’ bout’ you sons a’ bitches raise yer’ drinks up in the air with me and repeat after me:

I pledge allegiance…
To the flag…
Of the United States of ‘Murrica…
And if that sissy ass scarf wearin’ English Muffin, thinks he’s gunna’ walk out of Cincinnati Ohio on his own strength…
That cricket playin’ pansy got himself another thing comin…”

Muddy guzzles his beer down as his music cues up…the fans are going crazy as the scene fades…
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(04-13-2015)




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