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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare RP Board
The last cut (is the deepest)
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The Engineer Offline
Man of Peace



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#1
11-07-2017, 07:37 PM

The shot opens via live Fox News broadcast. The frame at the bottom of the screen helpfully reads XWF Superstar The Engineer has MAJOR ANNOUNCEMENT! The word “LIVE!” screams out in the upper left hand corner. Before you The Engineer stands behind a makeshift podium, microphones atop it and at the ready like the tendrils of some deformed media beast. Assembled at Engy's sides are a crew of familiar faces: Madison Dyson, vice-president Mike Pence, Engy's psychiatrist Dr. Bennie, and NRA VP Wayne LaPierre (whose pants appear to be stuffed to accentuate the size of his package). The Engineer steps up to the microphones and begins to speak.

Greetings, and thank you all for joining me.

The shot pans back more, revealing a gaggle of reporters. It also reveals an unusual sight behind Engy. One of those cheap “manufactured homes”. But this one is overgrown with weeks and in a state of disrepair. Engy continues.

Also, a big thank you to the friends joining me up here today. I want to start off by explaining what it is you are seeing here behind me. This is my childhood home. It is a location of great pain and sorrow for me. Some of you may know about my difficult upbringing, a trauma it has taken nearly all of my adult life to recover from. But I'm not here to dwell on that or this place of nightmares. No, rather I'm here to talk about what this ramshackle abode, and my late parents, have unexpectedly gifted me. Now, I recently hired some private investigators to fill in some of the gaps in my past. And one of the things they found was that, unbeknowst to me, my childhood home fell into my custody upon my mother and father's untimely demises many years ago.

The glint in his eyes at the words “untimely demises” is impossible to ignore.

Now clearly, I haven't lived here in quite some time. And looking at it kinda makes me want to vomit. But, what this cesspit does grant me is residency in the great state of West Virginia.

Engy looks at Mike Pence, and then at Madison. Madison shoots him a big thumbs up.

Which is something that I will need to RUN FOR THE UNITED STATES SENATE FOR WEST VIRGINIA IN 2018!

Engy announces it jubilantly. Madison pulls out a bag and tosses some confetti into the air. The reporters immediately start trying to talk over each other, and Engy puts his hands up and starts to gently shush them.

Hold on, hold on! I know what you're all thinking. “Engy, you have zero political experience! Engy, you're a professional wrestler! Engy, what will be your policy positions!” All in due time my friends. But I will say, to all of my fans and all of my friends on the XWF roster, I am not going anywhere! I will continue to actively compete as I steer my senatorial campaign. But for now, I'm going to turn over the mic to my personal psychiatrist Dr. Bennie who has a few words of support.

Dr. Bennie takes the podium. He leans into the mic, taps it a couple times, and then proceeds.

Now I know some of you might have some mild concerns about my patient's fitness for public office. Let me assuage those concerns. I have been working with Mr. Bright extensively since the summer and the progress he has made is nothing short of astounding. It is my clinical opinion that Mr. Bright is now completely sane and fully capable of performing the duties of a member of the United States legislature.

A reporter from MSNBC pushes her way to the front. Madison instantly looks annoyed.

But didn't Mr. Bright try to chop off a man's head just last month live on pay per view?!

Ma'am, that was an act of self defense. John Samuels and his ilk viciously assaulted Mr. Bright first, and doused him in human feces. Mr. Bright feared for his safety.

The reporter looks like she's about to follow up her question, when two Secret Service men appear on either side of her. The shot immediately cuts away and back towards the podium, where Engy has retaken his place.

Thank you doctor, and thank you for all of your support! I will take some questions from the Fox News contingent.

Jesse Watters steps to the fore. The MSNBC reporter is now strangely absent.

Jesse Watters: 'Sup dawg, it's ya boy Jesse. Engy, just how much ass you gonna kick as a senator, bro?

Engy chuckles.

I'm hoping to kick all the ass, Jesse. By the by, we still on for a couple brewskies later?

Jesse Watters: You know it bro!

Katherine Timpf: Engy, a follow up if I may? You have been said to be spectacularly appealing to the opposite sex, do you think that will help your chances in the election?

Katherine, nobody respects women more than I do. Except maybe the president. I think it's especially important, in this cultural atmosphere of gross sexual abuse by the liberal Hollywood establishment, that women be treasured and honored. It will be my pleasure to serve the women of West Virginia.

Suddenly, Sheperd Smith pushes his way forward. Madison turns away from the podium, and can be heard muttering “Oh Christ, here we go....”

Shep Smith: I also have a follow up. You say you have the utmost respect for women, however when your girlfriend Tomi Lahren recently went missing you didn't seem all that concerned. Comments?

Engy makes a displeased sardonic epression.

Is that your big “gotcha” attempt, Shep? **Sigh** Look man, yes Tomi is missing. And yes, I wasn't all that concerned. You know why? Because like me, Tomi has some serious demons to fight, alright? But the thing that Tomi was so brilliant at was hiding it. Way better than me at least. Tomi will show up again when she's ready. But before she left she burned a hell of a bridge with me. Now if you could please leap the hell off my personal life that would be great.

Madison cuts in front of Engy and speaks into the mic.

That's gonna have to be it for today, but rest assured Dexter has plenty more to say. But for right now, we have a plane to catch to the Orient.

The assembled reporters each start yammering out more questions as Engy and his party leave the dias.

Later....


We open in a hotel room, a fairly pricey looking one it would seem. The Engineer, clad in a bathroom and looking washed with his hair slicked back, is nursing a vodka tonic. He's standing on an open air porch. Madison comes up to the door, which is ajar.

Would you come inside? It's fucking freezing out. And our flight leaves in two hours.

Gimme a few. I need to put the nail in Main.

Madison sticks her head out onto the porch and notices the camera guy.

Really Steve, you couldn't have shot this inside?

Steve points to Engy, outing him as the culprit.

I'm quite comfortable. Borderline toasty, really. I'll be inside soon.

Madison shrugs and shuts the door behind her. The Engineer takes a sip of his drink and looks out at the cityscape stretching before him, the lights and sounds of the city puncturing the night sky like sonic stars on Earth. His lips tug into a smile that is difficult to read. His eyes scan the cityscape like they're searching for something.

I always liked being high up. Even as a boy. Having that vantage point where you can look down on the world, be apart from it. I realize now that it was symptomatic of a deep and abiding insecurity. A cheap way to puff myself up and give myself the illusion of control. But I realize, standing here now, I haven't shaken it. I think part of me will always feel that need. I mean, can you blame me? For so long I wasn't even in control of my own mind. So much time wasted....

Another sip goes down the hatch. He shakes his head.

And ya see that's a big difference between you and me Bobby. I don't hide from my weaknesses anymore. I accept them, bring them into the fold. As performers in this industry, it's almost impossible to hide your weaknesses. We put so much of ourselves out there. Our lives. Our bodies. Our hearts and souls. All up for public consumption. Which always makes it kinda ridiculous to me when guys like you try to play at having nothing to defend. In fact, you used those exact words. You have nothing to defend. Bobby, it's not like you have nothing to defend, you just choose to ignore it. You just to ignore the fact that you are literally falling to pieces before the God you mock and the entire world. I mean, seriously Bobby, just what the fuck have you “sold yourself to the devil” for anyway? By your own account you were absolutely dominant before you fell in with old scratch. Piling on all those wins on guys just as they were in their prime. What did you NEED the devil for? Your parents clearly cared enough to come to you to try to save you and you rewarded your father with a bullet.

You had it good man. You will note that in all the shit I piled on you, at no point did I say you sucked as a wrestler. I haven't taken aim at your record because, yeah, it's pretty damn good! Which makes it all the more baffling that you're doing this to yourself, letting yourself get turnt out like some B-movie cliché. Is the Devil making you do it or is your sense of self just the personality equivalent of a wet fart cut in a closed elevator? Is Satan making you cut these obnoxiously verbose and painfully dull promo's? Is Lucifer making you try SO SO hard to get yourself over as this hackneyed lunatic villain trope that we've seen time and time again? You don't need to do that shit! Your record speaks for itself.

Lemme tell ya something else Bobby. Men who are truly evil, they don't make a show of it. My daddy was the evilest son of a bitch I ever met, but do ya think he went around talking like some kind of acting class drop out, wankin' himself off and sayin' shit like “I see an opportunity to paint with my brush of hate!” and “Will you slay the demon that I have become?” Nah, my daddy did his shift at the plant, talked about Goldie Hawn's titties with the guys over lunch, and then came home and broke my eye socket. I mean Jesus Christ man, you sound like the liner notes for some piece of shit nu-metal band. Is this really the hill your gonna die on?


Engy allows himself a mirthless chuckle. He sets the drink down and for the first time he turns away from the city and towards the camera.

I allowed myself to get pretty mad at you before. And then I just made fun of you, but now....now? I'm starting to think maybe I'm the asshole for making fun of someone who is so utterly gone. I mean, I don't know if your mentally challenged or actually losing your mind or what. Maybe, in that sense we have a lot more in common than I thought. But whatever you are, you just don't see what you're doing to yourself. You even used to cut a decent promo, and now you're just turning yourself into the promotional version of terrible airport fiction. And yeah, you might be able to snow some people with how long you talk for, and for mixing it up with some big words here and there. But take it from somebody who actually used to be crazy, your just not making a good case for yourself. You accuse me of not having anything to say and then you cut almost 2 whole promos accusing the Motherfuckers of being gay. Do I need to tell the Basic Bitch Doctor your cribbing his gimmick too? You tell me that how much pity you have for me because I got raped and then launch right into telling me you're gonna be my daddy and emotionally rape me. Huh. You accuse me of being a liberal (I'm sorry, have you met my friends Madison, Mike, and Wayne?). You claim I was ripping on your for being creative when I was ripping on you the whole goddamn time for being trite. And then, on top of all that, you pound that drum of “losing to Robert Main will define you forever” again.

Listen you collossal arse, I already covered that but either you're not listening or maybe the voices just drowned my words out or who the fuck knows. So allow me to reiterate for posterity: I HAVE FACED WORSE THAN YOU. Even if I lose to you, which I will allow is a possibility, YOU WILL NOT HAVE DESTROYED ME. If the metric fuck ton of awful shit I have been through in my life wasn't enough to get the job done, then losing the Xtreme championship certainly won't either.

Let me ask you this Robert, are you projecting on me? I mean, you seem strangely insistent that losing a title is going to be curtains for my mental health. Could it be that maybe....just maybe....this hits a little close to home for YOU? I mean, you left right around the time you dropped the Hart championship. And since you got back? Weeellllllll, lets just say the “kids aren't alright.” Your brains are broker than a horny businessman in a Thai whore house.

So let me tell you what actually will happen if I lose the Xtreme championship, Bobby. Slight disappointment, a few shots of Jack (which lets face facts I would probably do that regardless), a nap, and then the realization that not having to watch my back in the 24/7 halls will actually be one hell of a relief as I take my well earned tag team title shot and finally make my big run at the Kings with any one of my equally badass Motherfucker counterparts. OH WEAL AND WOE BOBBY! MY LIFE IS OVER! You nonce...

And while we are on the subject of my equally badass Motherfucker counterparts, I should probably say my piece about them too. You made a lot of utterly unsubstantiated claims about how things really play out for the Motherfuckers behind the scenes. And honestly, underneath all the tired oral sex jokes you may have a point or two. Robbie does have an undeniable history of turning on James Raven. And yes, I have already gone on record as saying Jim Caedus is probably the best this company has to offer. But neither of those facts means that the Motherfuckers are primed and ready to implode. Because unlike you, we all have this little thing called insight. And our insight is telling us right now that the four of us combined are the best chance the XWF has of finally getting the Kingly colon cleansing it so desperately needs. We're gonna keep this shit together long enough to get the job done. Does this mean we're gonna last forever? Probably not. Everything dies in time. But before we go we're gonna give something back to this company. Can you honestly say you've ever done the same? Do you even care?


Engy pulls his robe around himself even tighter now. Perhaps the cold is finally starting to creep in.

You did make one interesting claim though. You claimed that you built a record on beating guys who were on their way up while I built mine on beating them when they were falling down. It's interesting imagery, honestly. And it got me thinking Bobby, about which of us is really heading up and which of us is heading down. And I think, that regardless of championships, or wins and losses, that answer is crystal clear. I'm part of the premier stable in XWF. I have a new lease on life. I'm coming to terms with my demons. And now, I'm about to be a motherfucking SENATOR.

What do you have Bobby? No, really. What have you got? A brain full of fuck all, a cheap Satan's minion gimmick, a shot up daddy, and a truly bizarre fixation on gay sex acts.

You know what Bobby. I'm actually starting to think you need this title more than I do. I mean, SOMETHING has to get you over, right?


Engy picks up his glass and breaths out into the crisp night air, creating a fine mist. He opens the door and steps back into the lavish hotel suite. Madison has luggage unfurled on the bed and she is hastily packing her clothes away.

You finally done chewing on that turd? By the way, your phone went off.

Madison gestures with her chin towards the phone on the bed. Engy scoops it up, and, seeing that there is a message, listens in.

***Beep***


Hey, Mr. Bright, it's Alex from Pho Consulting. Hope you found the residency information to your satisfaction. Listen, we've been doing some more legwork and, well....we found something else. Now, I'm not sure it's the kind of thing that will prove problematic for your campaign, but at the very least it's something you may need to get ahead of.

We, uh, we found a birth certificate Mr. Bright. That woman who you, uh, were forced to have relations with, the cult woman....?

There's a child involved Mr. Bright. Could very well be yours. Please call me. We need to hash this out. Play it right and it could be some serious sympathy points.


The Engineer's thumb depresses the delete button on the phone. His expression remains stoic all the while. Madison, sitting on her suit case to force it shut, looks over at him.

Problem?

Engy turns back to her and smiles disarmingly.

Not at all.

The Engineer passes by a mirror as he makes his way further into the room. A single pitch black tendril or nothingness peeks over his shoulder as the shot instantly cuts to...

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"The Wolf of Afghanistan" Joshua Schuler (11-07-2017), Vincent Lane (11-09-2017)




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