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

Lost Password?
Current time: 03-28-2024, 10:29 AM (time should display as Pacific time zone; please contact Admin if it appears to be wrong)                                                                


X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare RP Board
Decision Time
Author Message
The Engineer Offline
Man of Peace



XWF FanBase:
(.Awaiting user update)


#1
09-04-2017, 02:32 PM

Donald Trump's big orange face fills up the entire laptop's screen. Madison Dyson, your American sweetheart and mine, is seated in front of it, Skype chatting with the president of these United States.

So that's how I found out Kim Jong Un has a dick like a baby turtle head peeking out. I'm going to start tweeting him artist's renderings of his tiny penis until he snaps.

Mmmm, yes sir....but didn't they just successfully test a massive fuckoff nuke?

Hydrogen bomb actually. I have the BEST intel. But they have no way to get it to our shores. That little shithole will be glass by the time they would have that kind of long range warhead tech.

The Donald feeds himself a big spoonful of soft serve ice cream with ketchup on top. It takes every ounce of Madison's willpower not to retch. He then starts to speak as he swallows the godawful desert abortion, splatering his screen with flecks of it.

So I heard Engy's got Caedus next week. He's pretty hosed, isn't he?

Madison's expression contorts into the plastic smiling veneer she always takes on when she's about to bullshit the hell out of someone.

Well, I beg to differ sir. I think Engy stands an excellent chance of beating Jim. I mean, look at how much he's shown us. We've all really underestimated him.

So, hosed?

Madison sighs morosely and sinks down into her chair, as though all the bullshit has just been drained out of her like helium from a party balloon.

Yeah...yeah, he is. Don't get me wrong. Engy's come a long way. Nobody thought he would win King of the Ring, much less win the Xtreme championship in the same night. And while he has mopped the floor with a couple other former Universal champs, those guys weren't the total package like Jim is. I mean, Trax and Chaos had the wrestling chops, but they were both complete and utter chowder heads who spent most of their free time huffing their own farts. Caedus on the other hand is smart, powerful, and a solid wrestler. Engy can handle two out of those three on a good day, but he's always always struggled with total package guys. At this point I'm just prepping for the eventual meltdown when he loses the Xtreme title.

Well, good luck. Maybe he can face that scrub Gilmour for the Hart title to get his groove back.

Ehhhh...maybe? Gilmour's almost as dumb as Engy but people have been handling him with kid gloves lately for some reason. Kicking a puppy may not be good for our image right now.

The Donald shrugs, before wolfing down even more of his vile sundae.

I'm sure you'll make the right call. Now, if you'll excuse me I have a gold plated toilet to go punish.

Enjoy, sir.

The Donald reaches up to disconnect his Skype connection. As he does so, the shot pans back to reveal Engy just to the right of the open door to Madison's study. He looks very sad and if this was a shitty CBS sitcom the audience would just now be seeing a flashing light telling them to “awwwww”.

Engy, shoulders drooping, shuffles down the hall. He passes a few more doors before opening the door to a spacious bathroom. He plops down on the closed toilet seat, his face falling into his hands like some half assed version of The Thinker.


Decisions....decisions....

He says it allowed in a hushed tone, and it's unclear what he was talking about. He leans back on the “deck” of the toilet, shaking his head.

It ain't easy bein' stupid. I mean, everybody thinks its just some magic fairy land where you don't gotta worry about nothin' because you're too dumb to have worries. They says that smart people get the depressions more cuz they smart enough to see the big picture and know how much shit sucks.

Well, they ain't ever talked to me.


He forces a smile on his face regardless.

But, hey, I started readin'! Just POOF, outta the blue...Engy's literate! Why, just today I read the games on the back a the Lucky Charms box, I read that warnin' tag on my pillow, I read street signs and even my own DAMN photo ID and....

Something's wrong. He looks conflicted. He shakes his head, mutters something under his breath. His lip curls up in the briefest of snarls.

It don't fuckin' matter though.

He looks down and pulls a thread on his grimy shirt, unspooling it and winding it around his finger.

It ain't easy bein' stupid. Stupid ain't somethin' ya can hide. It ain't a scar, tho I got plenty a those too....it ain't a deformity or like havin' just one ball in ya sack....it ain't like none a that shit. Oh sure, ya can't see stupid. But regular people just know. Everytime I open my yap, or can't count change. Even when I cut promos.

And nobody respects stupid. Any why should they? Nobody stupid's ever done anythin' good for the world. Ya get some empty headed social worker sayin' even the deserve to be 'spected all the while they pat 'em on the head and give 'em a lolly and tell 'em what a good boy they is for not shittin' their pants today.

I KNOW!! I KNOW!!


The shout is abrupt, and not exactly directed at the viewer. He shakes his head again, more violently this time, like he's trying to disabuse himself of a nagging thought by pummeling it to death inside his skull.

But I ain't THAT stupid, Jimbo. I been KILLIN' myself this month, killin' myself to turn heads and do good and make a big splash. Has anybody had a better month in the XWF than 'ol Engy? Huh?!

No. The answer is NO!

At King of the Ring, I went through two guys in one night to win that tourny-ment. And in the same night I beat a former Universality champion to win the Xtreme title. Nobody busted their ass like Engy that night.

Did Peter Gilmour bust his ass like Engy, goin' over a flake and a joke like Chasm to win the Hart title? A shot that was originally supposed to be mines until Madison and I was told by the bosses I couldn't fight for two titles! FUCK....I WOULDA WON TWO TITLES THAT NIGHT! I woulda ate up Gilmour's porker ass and everybody knows it! But I was held back by the rules and them's the rules, ok, I get it. But Gilmour didn't work like Engy, and nobody's tellin' Peter Gilmour he didn't earn his title.

Did James Raven work as hard as Engy? Fightin' some trans-somethin or other freakshow who couldn't even be bothered to cut a promo and who sure as shit didn't show up to fight. Yeah, Raven didn't even have to bust a sweat, but ain't nobody tellin' him he didn't earn it either.

Nawwww, heh heh.....two guys who ain't have to walk on glass to get their moment in the sun, nobody says SHIT about them gettin' handed the ball.

But 'Ol Engy? Who worked harder than anybody that night?

Ol' Engy don't deserve shit. I don't deserve to be King a no Rings, I don't deserve the Xtreme championships, I don't deserve no crown and I DON'T DESERVE NO RESPECT! 'Cuz apprently I just went over some B-listers. Well, then what the fuck was Brucette and Chasm to those other guys?

And then I go and join the Motherfuckers, the only group left that ain't the Kings, and no sooner does I join up with them I'm told they ain't shit neither and that I was just some scrub they picked up 'cuz they couldn't get you!


Engy's ringing his hands now, ringing them so hard they're starting to shafe and bleed. He abruptly gets up off the toilet and starts pacing on the linoleum. Every once in a while, he throws a quick glance at the medicine cabinet.

So ya see Jimbo, ya see how things might be gettin' a bit frustratin' to me. Ya see how it might seem that no matter what good I do, I'm just gonna get shit on anyway because I'm STUPID and I ain't like the rest a ya. And now, my own manager and my own damn PRESIDENT don't even think I'm smart enough to beat ya!

But it don't got to be that way, Jim. Really it don't.


His eyes lock on the medicine cabinet and stay there this time.

I don't got to dance for none a you fucks. I don't got to be your joke no more. I don't need to have THIS....BAD....BRAIN!

He punctuates each of these last words with a slap to the skull.

I've got an out.

He pulls open the cabinet now, reaching in greedily for something and in the process spilling the rest of the contents out onto the sink and floor. Finally, he pulls away with a medicine bottle. It's unlabeled, and it has one of those time lock caps on top.

See here? This is the medicine my brain doctor been givin' me. It's what got me to read. It's makin' me smarter! But it ain't fast enough. Madison and Uncle Donald got it right, I ain't smart enough for you yet, Jim.

He tries to peel off the lid, but it won't budge. He looks at the time remaining and sees that he has another 13 hours until his next dose. What was, at one point, sealed for his protection is now proving to be the bane of his existence. He tries to pull the cap off again and it still won't come. He drops the bottle on the floor and starts stomping on it but it must be made out of some titanium alloy shit because it still doesn't break. Engy whines with frustration and starts clawing at his scalp. Suddenly, he darts back to the toilet and lifts off the top.

She thinks I don't know buuuuuut.....

He pulls a handgun out of the toilet tank in a plastic sealable bag.

.....I DO! Thank you Madison for having a gun in like every fuckin' room.

He removes the gun from the bag and checks the chamber. Naturally, this being Madison's house, it's loaded. Engy positions the pill bottle on the bathroom counter. He kneels one knee down to the floor and takes up a firing stance, leveling the barrel of the gut at the bottle.

Just as Engy is about to pull the trigger, we cut back to Madison's study. Madison is once again talking to Donald Trump via Skype, despite having just finished a conversation moments before.

You sure he heard us?

I could hear that creepy labored breathing of his from a mile away. He heard every word.

You don't think we were too hard on him?

Take it from me sir, nothing motivates Engy like feelings of abject failure. All of the impotent rage that ensues from those feelings are his biggest sources of strength. Look at the lead up to King of the Ring, he felt totally worthless and ended up kicking ass.

I thought he was about to kill himself?

Well yeah, but that's the beauty of it. He stews in those feelings for a little while and then I swoop in and give him this big pep talk telling him everything will be alright when he's at his lowest. I think he gets off on that rush of rapidly cycling feelings or something, I don't know, hes a twisted little monkey.

And you don't think he'll do anything rash again?

Trust me, sir I think I know....

A gunshot rings out from down the hall. Madison goes chalk white. The Donald screws his doughy head up, trying to peer around Madison for all the good that will do.

What the hell was that? Was that a gun shot?!

I'm sure it wasn't sir!

Look Madison, I got enough problems without being associated with a suicide. If he's dead, buy his family some flowers for me but leave my name off the tag!

The Donald shuts off his Skype connection. Madison bolts upright and starts running down the hall.

OhFuckOhFuckOhFuckOhFuckOhFuckOhFuck!!!

She's tossing open doors as she goes, finally stopping at the bathroom door. She squeezes her eyes shut, then opens one a smidge, and reluctantly throws open the door.

The gun is on the floor, chalky pill residue is all over Engy's hands, and his cheeks are puffed out like a chipmunk's. Madison leans up against the door frame and lets out a deep sigh of relief.


Oh thank God, I thought we drove you to suicide....

Engy chokes down all the pills from the bottle, and with a final little gag and a skrock into the toilet he responds to Madison.

Nah, I'm good.

The tension gone, Madison chuckles a bit.

I mean, I heard the shot....BAM!....what else was I supposed to think? Hahahaha! You almost made me piss myself. Wait....

She considers the gun.

Why did you fire the gun?

So I could get my pills open.

Wha....what? Why didn't you just wait until your next dose?

'Cuz I got impatient.

Madison makes a serious WTF face.

Why the hell did you get impatient?

Cuz I wanted to take all the pills before you told me no.

And just like that all the tension thickens the air again. Madison's back stiffens. Engy gets up off the floor, kicking the shattered remains of the broken bottle as he does so.

You took ALL of them?

I wanted to get smart faster.

It's the calm before the storm, a few blissful seconds before....

WHAT THE FUCK ENGY?!!! WE STILL DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT SHIT EVEN IS!!

Engy wobbles on his feet a bit. He puts a quivering hand to his forehead.

I think I got up too fast....

Sit down! Sit back down!

Actually, nope....nope, I have made an awful, awful, mistake.

Engy's wobble goes full on London bridge is falling down. He tumbles to his left, crashing into Madison's ornate claw foot bath tub. He grabs the expensive shower curtain as he falls, tearing it from the bar and dragging it in with him. Madison runs over and starts shaking him.

Engy! ENGY!! Oh God DAMN IT!

He's not waking up. Madison pulls out her phone, fingers racing across the buttons to dial emergency services as we end on this CLIFFHANGER!!

tO bE CoNtInUEd.....

[Image: 9QBn3eQ.jpg]





Edit Hate Post Like Post
[-] The following 3 users Like The Engineer's post:
JimCaedus (09-07-2017), Prof. Bobby Bourbon (09-11-2017), Theo Pryce (09-04-2017)




Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)