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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » "Savage Saturday Night" RP Board
Going to Rio pt 2
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erikblack Offline
I ARE RETARDEDS!!!!!!!!!



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Nobody

(boring as fuck; promos act as sleeping medicine; never recognized in public)


#1
03-14-2018, 05:05 AM

“Hello. I’m looking for a man.”, I said as I entered the bar.

The bar itself was everything one would come to expect in a place like this. It was dingy. It was dirty. There were holes in the walls with bad lighting and fairly dirty people. The smell stuck to my nose like glue. To be honest…I wanted to puke.

I never thought I’d ever be back here. I left this city at the tender age of eighteen. The Gracie’s trained me here. Id taken in all the knowledge they had to offer like a sponge and left in a hurry. I never looked back. But here I was….home. Or at least it was like a home to me. I guess this city rubbed off on me in more ways than one.

No one turned to look at me after I’d announced my intentions. It slightly annoyed me, but it was par for the course with this city. This..dirty city.

“ I guess none of you heard me. I’m looking for a man.”, I said again..louder.

“We heard you, asshole.”, came a voice from my right.

I looked in that direction to see a young man looking at me as he took a drink from a stained cup. He was no more than seventeen years old. His skin was dark. He wore a stained and tattered red shirt over his thin upper body. With him were two other young men. They were each just as frail looking but seemed to be laughing to one another.

I walked over to his table, which sat in the far right corner. None of them seemed afraid yet, but they would be soon. I’d make sure of that.

I stood out like a sore thumb here. I was clean, wearing a blood red suit and carrying what was obviously an expensive bag. I looked like someone who would be robbed at any moment now.

I slowly walked to his table and stood over this young man and his friends. He looked up at me with a smirk. He thought this would be a game. I wasn’t back in Rio to play any games.

“ So you heard me, but chose to ignore me. I hate repeating myself. If you know where Drache is, I’d suggest you speak.”, I said calmly.

Again, the kid smiled. Anger welled up inside me. I had to close my eyes and take a deep breathe to call myself. The kid noticed.

“Closing your eyes and wishing you were back home in your comfy bed?”, he asked

I grinned and shook my head.

“No. I’m actually deciding whether or not I should kill you and your friends right now.”, I said flatly.

There was no fear in this kid. His eyes twinkled. He smiled a cocky smile. But that smile was only there for a second or two before I plunged my knife into his neck. Blood squirted from his neck onto his closest friend. His friends jumped back but had nowhere to go.

My actions hadn’t gone unnoticed. There were people staring at me. I could feel their glares but I didn’t turn around. I looked at the two that were still at the table.

“Drache. Have you heard this name?”, I asked loudly.

“No. We don’t know nothing.”, One said.

I believed him. At that age, after seeing their friend die, they would have talked. But there was always someone else.

I straightened my body and turned around to face this crowded bar. All eyes were on me.

“Now that I have your attention. I need some information. I’m looking for a man that goes by the name Drache. He’d have a German accent. White man.”, I asked loudly.

There was a murmur but no answers. I needed information. I’d do anything I could to get it.

My next stab was into the neck of the closest young man to me. The knife that was hidden in my jacket sleeve had cut through his neck like butter. He slumped down in his seat.

“Shall I keep going?”, I asked.

There still was no answer. There were only shocked murmurs from the ten people in the bar. I was ready to kill them all, but I knew that it wouldn’t do any good.

“I call police!”, came a yell.

I titled my head to the right. It was the bartender. I shook my head at him. He was an older man. What hair he had left was greasy and unkempt. He wore jeans and a grease stained white shirt.

“Do as you see fit, though I’m not sure you’ll be alive when they get here.”, I said flatly.

I waited a moment. I’d hoped that someone would speak up, but there was nothing.

“Drache. Does anyone know of him?”, I asked again.

There was no answer so I put my bag down on the table, being careful to avoid the blood that had pooled. I reached in and pulled out a black nine millimeter. I cocked the gun.

“I don’t really want to do this. I’d much rather not spill anymore blood today. It’s not exactly something I look forward to.”, I said as calmly as I had said anything to that point.

“Police on way!”, the bartender yelled.

I looked at him. I lifted the gun. I squeezed the trigger. The bullet struck his chest with a loud bang. The bar cleared out quickly. I sighed to myself and put my gun back into the black bag and wiped my knife on a napkin.

“Stupid.”, I said as I turned around, letting the last young man leave the bar.

As I exited the bar and felt the heat of the night, I didn’t think I’d get far. This was a city where people’s families disappeared if they talked. But I knew that I had to keep going. I had to be back in time for Savage.

As soon as I exited the bar, I heard someone trying to get my attention. I turned down a dark alley where I’m sure there had to be some homeless guy taking a dump. It was the surving young man. I wasn’t sure why, but I didn’t think this would be an attempt to kill me.

I entered the alley.

….to be continued

………….

This message has been paid for by Empire featuring Erik Black

Erik Black's face appeared on screen. It was a sly grin as usual, but something was different. There was a twinkle in his eyes that could only be explained by the man himself, but it was still only a picture

It isn’t often that I tell opponents to do their homework. Hell..I don’t do it myself ,but that’s due to the fact that I’m the most dangerous man alive today. But Jeremiah Johnson really needs to do his homework. He obviously needs to learn his place in this world. Then again..Maybe he did but he’s just too damn stupid to know how much danger he’s actually in.

This is a guy talking about money, titles and taking over companies. Now where have I seen that before. Oh…That’s right! I’ve been doing that for fifteen years. Did he read my bio and decide he’s going to try and steal my life? After all. I’ve won titles. I’ve taken over countless companies and shut them down due to my godlike fighting prowess. That’s a difference between us that he can’t fake. I’m a god. He’s a little guy who reads a bio and then decides it sounds cool to be rich, famous, and dangerous enough to close wrestling fed down with his fighting prowess.

Jerimiah…Guys like him are a dime a dozen. He spent his childhood wanting to be the next big thing. He was never good enough to actually be taken seriously. And because of this, he goes through bios like a Vegas hooker through cock and decides “yea. That one is totally me! Yea!” in order to make himself feel better. It’s quite sad really…But not as sad as he’s going to be after Savage when I take everything he holds dear. That’s right. Mr. Johnson over there is staring defeat in the face and he doesn’t even know it. Id say that he’s a victim of his own circumstance, but I just don’t want to. This guy needs to be taught a lesson. And it will be a painful one.

His first mistake was thinking I would be worried about anger and fire. I’m not. A clouded mind leads to mistakes. I’m a guy you can’t make a mistake against. He’s a guy who is already making them. He’s already behind and we're just getting started. How sad is this going to be for him? I’ll answer that. Very. It’s going to be very sad for him. He’s expecting a win in his return to the ring but he’s been thrown to the dogs. He’s been thrown in the ring against a man who would kill him just as easily as looking at him. Will I? Well…You never know.

Has anyone seen Muddy Waters? If so..Can you big him up out of whatever ditch he passed out in? Please let him know that he has a match against his betters and that he would be better off if he hung himself in a truck stop bathroom. I mean that. He’s nothing more than an actual no skill bum. Really. I’m not even making fun of the guy. He’s an actual bum. He lives outside. YOLO! You only live outside!

Not only is he an actual bum, but he’s a terrible father. He already knows this. Of course he only remembers in the very few times during the day that he’s sober.

Now I have nothing against drunks…or even bums, but this is a guy who is begging for death. He’s basically on his knees… pleading to be dealt with. Well…He’s in luck. I’m just the man for the job.

Velocity Seven. How the hell did I know? How did I know this would be some sort of super hero type comic book nerd with a chip on his shoulders? Momma didn’t love you enough? Oh. That’s right. Daddy killed her, right? I could be wrong there. Hell I wasn’t too big into the whole nerd culture. I was busy going from foster home to foster home. I never really had time.

Oh..but I forgot. He’s super duper fast, right? I guess that comes in handy when you’re in a tight spot and need to get away. Hell I could have used that power when in was in that fire fight on that Baltimore peer a few weeks ago. I needed to get out fast but instead…I fought back. I won. Mean while dozens are dead in my wake.

So since you’re a guy who runs fast, what else do you bring to the table? You obviously aren’t much of a fighter. Most fast runners aren’t. So what else is there? I’m guessing not much. That seems to be how things go around here. You have no talent hacks after no talent hacks zooming around as if you’re something to be feared. News Flash. You aren’t. You’re running at a very fast pace…Directly into pure embarrassment. Yours to be exact. Because that’s what I do, Seven.


I know that this is different from what I’ve said before. Usually I don’t come off this way, but I just can’t help it. We have Jeremiah Johnson thinking it’s ok to copy my adult life. You have an actual bum thinking he has what it takes and then a pencil thin comic book nerd from another planet who runs fast. You can’t make this shit up. It doesn’t matter though. Each of you have a discussion to have with whatever diety you choose to have it with. Whether it’s a speed god, or a magical little fairy, or the worm at the bottom of a tequila bottle. Whatever makes you feel better. None of it matters in the long run. Why? Well..Simple. You’re about to partake in physical combat against a man who has a fighting gift from God. A man who could very well end your very existence in just a few short days. The clock is ticking. I suggest you three get your affairs in order. For you, Johnson…It’s the house. For you, nerd, it’s whatever lab you come from. Muddy? You don’t have anything g so you just be ready to die. Ok? Good talk, guys.

HEY LOOOK ARE ME I'S AND CUCKCOCK ALL DAYS DERRRRR HUH HUH HUH GKUG GLUG GIMME YOUR SPERM CELL!

My sig got edited to match my overly shitty behavior so now I can play tough guy asshole IC anywhere I go. Except at home where my mother will beat my o-ring to keep me in line.
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