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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare RP Board
Still trash
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The Engineer Offline
Man of Peace



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#1
04-06-2018, 02:49 PM

LAST TIME ON DRAGONBALL Z....

Engy has a son that he found a few months ago. His name is Joachim. Joachim is a good kid, but is nothing like Engy. Engy, seeing this, turned to his frenemy Jim Caedus to mentor Joachim and show him that it was possible to be successful in the XWF and be a semi-decent human being. Unfortunately, Jim lost his mind and got murdered by assholes. Engy has recently been waging war against those assholes, but in so doing has reverted to a deeper darker part of his nature that Joachim resents and is disgusted by. Joachim signed an XWF contract before any of this happened, hoping his father could still be salvageable, but that is now up for serious debate seeing as how Engy decapitated one of the people who killed Jim Caedus. This conflict in ethics has come to a head now that Engy is desperate for a partner to help him defend his tag titles in four days.

Also, Madison maybe found Jesus. Where he was hiding is anyone's guess.

KA-ME-HA-ME-HAAAA, bitches!




The scene opens on La Casa del Dyson. We've been here before. This time, Joachim Bright is seen seated at the cream colored marble island, bathrobe drawn tight around his slim features as he nurses a bigass coffee and a bowl of Corn puffs. Deep bags drag under his eyes, he looks absolutely exhausted.

There is one major change however from the last time we were here, however. A cacophony of construction sounds can be heard from outside, drilling, dumping, the rhythmic pounding of hammers. Joachim, shoulders slumped and head bowed under the weight of the encroaching threat of sleep, doesn't even notice Engy enter the kitchen. Engy seems to be in a similar state, haggard and sleepless. He's also wearing a bathrobe (his is pink, 'natch). He goes to the fridge and pulls out a container of orange juice, and then pulls open a cabinet to retrieve a bottle of vodka. He dumps some of the vodka into the OJ, and as he's preparing his proverbial breakfast of (Universal) champions, he casts a lazy glance up at his son.


Sleep?

Nope.

Me neither.

So, do we have any idea what the hell Madison is doing out there and why it just had to start at 1 am last night?

No goddamn clue.

Hmmmm.

Jo takes a sip of his coffee and looks out the window, where a dump truck is presently carving a rut in the front yard of the estate with a full payload of brick.

You catch a charge yet?

I'm sorry...what?

A charge. For killing Erik Black.

Engy rolls his eyes and slams his glass down on the counter.

You reeeeaaaalllyyyy still don't get how this works......

Jo looks up at his father with derision.

No, I guess I don't. Because in the time I've been here I've seen four people commit murder, and only Erik caught any kind of real consequence for it.

Could you maybe stop being such a sanctimonious little turd for like 5 minutes? I killed ERIK BLACK. Who in turn, had killed Jim Caedus. You think anyone gives three shits to the wind about me killing that taint boil? No jury would ever convict me. Jesus Jo, there was a circuit court judge in the front row when I punted Erik's head up into the cheap seats and he gave me a HIGH FIVE after I did it!

Jo doesn't even look up at Engy as he continues.

Yeah, well, the XWF still sucks and it's still full of parasitic assholes who do nothing but make each others lives an endless torment.....

YES!

That's not a good thing!

Jo hammers his fist down on the counter, causing his cereal bowl to jump. He finally concedes to looking at Engy.

I agreed to stay here and learn something from Jim, and maybe, just maybe, help you to not be complete irredeemable scum. Well now Jim is dead and you took it upon yourself to kill his killer and make a big fucking joke about it. Nothing about this is cool and I made a huge mistake, so I'm quitting the XWF. Fuck the contract I signed. And fuck you. Now let me sit here and eat my cereal in relative peace so I can go get ready to leave here forever.

Engy makes a cringy face.

Yeeesh, now this is awkward....

Jo looks at him quizzically, but before he can follow up Madison enters and boy oh boy if she isn't an obnoxiously elated counterpoint to these two morose bastards. Her face is practically beaming, she's so bright and chipper, not to mention naturally devoid of any signs of insomnia.

MAY THE LIGHT OF CHRIST HOLD YOU AND KEEP YOU!

Engy's eyes go wide and he smirks.

Well that's new.

Madison walks up to him, doing her best to wear a warm smile but it's kind of creepy and Uncanny Valley.

Indeed it is. But you know, I just feel so alive since I let Christ's love into my heart.....like I need to share it with everyone!

Ya huh. Have you been dipping into my meds again?

Not at all. I don't need drugs or alcohol or mindless sex to feel fulfilled anymore. In the last 24 hours I have had an epiphany. I mean, at first I was DEVASTATED over what happened at the Great American Shove It. Donald Trump died. The show caused 218 million dollars in damages to Washington D.C. Fox News was so humiliated heh....

The porcelain veneer of Madison's eerie expression threatens to crack, but she somehow stays composed.

....they were so humiliated that they terminated my contract and cancelled my show. I was in rough shape, I tell ya. All those sleeping pills...they, uh....they looked pretty good....BUT THEN I REALIZED SOMETHING! I realized that maybe this was fate, or the cosmos, or even the good Lord above sending me a message. Saying, “Madison, something needs to change.” And you know what, I started feeling this....this WARMTH...overtake me....

Yeah, my pills.

Not your pills, ASS! It was GOD'S LOVE. Because no matter how badly I screwed up, God still was looking out for me and telling me I was worth it, that my LIFE was not worth throwing away. So at 11 PM last night I called the contractor and ordered him to start work on building me a chapel on the West wing of the house immediately.

Joachim interrupts by tossing his bowl in the sink, adding even more din to the noise pollution.

Sure, right, you found the light. And I am sure this is in no way some coincidence that you happen to have this epiphany right as our new Evangelical Christian President is sworn in; and that this is certainly not some cynical desperate ploy to grab at some final fleeting coattails of power because you're just so sick you cannot help yourself.

I hate all of you. I'm leaving. Goodbye forever.


Joachim starts leaving the kitchen and this time it's Madison's turn to make an awkward cringy face.

Eugh, you didn't tell him did you?

Yeah buddy, you can't leave.

Joachim points towards the exit.

Leaving

He passes through the threshold. Engy cups his hands to his mouth and calls out.

I BOOKED YOU IN A TITLE MATCH!

We hear a door slam in the distance.

I am “oh” for three at this whole picking a tag team partner thing. I really, REALLY suck at this.

I told you to pick Finn.

Engy takes a deep sip of his OJ and vodka.

Bite me.

Later

Engy is seated in the lavish den at Madison's estate. A fire is crackling in the fireplace nearby, and both tag team championships are at his feet. Engy's wearing a smoking jacket and treating himself to a fine Cuban cigar.

Spending the first three quarters of my life foraging for food out of Wal-mart dumpsters and squatting in trap houses with heroin addicts has a tendency to give you an added appreciation for the sweeter things in life that being a double champion brings you. Unfortunately, as the saying goes, 'mo money equals 'mo problems. You know, I thought I was being so goddamn clever when I cashed in on Chrissy-poo to steal his half of the tag team titles and force Jim Caedus to team with me. Little did I know that a mere couple months later Jim would be falling down a rabbit hole of psychological delusion, end up getting murdered, only for me to then go on an extensive interview process for a new partner, JUST to find out that partner is still not being medically cleared to wrestle. So, what do I do? Pick my kid to fill in, right? You just saw how that went.

**SIGH!**

However, I can take some solace in seeing that the biggest “threat” to my tag team titles, and I used that term as loosely as Jenny Myst's pussy, seems to be having some trouble of his own.

Hello again, Peter. Miss me? You know, I never did thank you for no-selling the shit out of our Deathmatch. I almost died in that fucker and yet somehow you came out smelling fresh as a daisy. How does that work? Were you on even BETTER drugs than I was? Or is it actually possible to be so stupid and oblivious to the world around you that you can avoid feeling pain entirely?

It's almost comforting to see that even now, four months after we shared that special moment, you still haven't changed a bit. You're still the same kind of idiot who gets handed an “anytime, anywhere” chance at the tag team championships, and instead of rubbing a couple brain cells together long enough to conclude that maybe it might be in your best interest to pick your spot on a night where I would be forced to pull double duty, you blow your load like a repressed teen on prom night and do EXACTLY what I wanted you to do. Excellent work, Pete. Truly visionary.

But HO! You've got yourself a “mystery partner”. Well Pete, I am positively ATINGLE over who this could be. Is it the number one contender to my Universal Championship James Raven? Nah, I think his clear and present distaste for you rules that out. Is it Finn Kuhn, my other number one contender? Could be, but what would that mean for his new buddy Scully? Or have you somehow mush-mouthed your way into convincing an “oldie but goodie” to re-lace those boots for one more ride?

Please GOD let it be Doc, if that's the case. The odd couple potential there is just off the charts.

But honestly though, I think that, like with all things Peter Gilmour, it will be a selection that is wholly underwhelming and not even near enough to get the job done. Because let's face facts, whoever you pick would have to be so hands down fuck-off AMAZING to counteract your nigh infinite levels of mediocrity, that nothing short of a Top 10 all time legend is going to cut it.

In case you're having a hard time tracking this Pete, I'm still saying you suck. COPIOUSLY. And you're chicken shit. Hell, you're still pulling this “wait for my opponent to shoot first” strategy because lord knows, even after being in the business as long as you have, you can't put together some trash without somebody spoon feeding you something to work with.


Engy picks up a nearby spoon because you just know he plans all this shit out in advance.

“Vrrrrrooooommmm, here comes the airplane! Open up Petey-wetey!” Oh it's so cute, he's like a baby bird. Squalling helplessly...uselessly...waiting for someone to feed him once again. To validate him once again. But guess what, bitch? It's still not November 2016, when the XWF's talent pool was so shallow that turds like you somehow popped up to the top just long enough to lose to...Jesus FUCKING Christ...CHRIS CHAOS of all people.

He tosses the spoon over his shoulder.

Your time at the top was an ABERRATION, Peter. A mistake. Or maybe even a perverse fluke of fate perpetrated by a sadomasochistic God who gifted you that fleeting glory only because it would make your future failures hurt THAT MUCH MORE.

You picking up what I'm putting down? You won't win against me. You can't. You're not nearly good enough. I've said it before and I'll say it again, your Top 50 spot is the participation trophy they give to the bat boy on the team thinking that they're doing him a favor, when in all reality it does nothing but further highlight what a goddamn charity case you really are. And whoever actually agrees to team with you will be doing you the greatest charity of all: sucking up a humiliating loss just to do you a solid.


Engy picks up both tag team belts and brings them right up to the camera, so close they eclipse everything else in the room.

No, Peter. Not yours. Never yours.

The image slowly, tantalizingly, fades to black on the glittering afterimage of tag team championship gold as Engy's mocking laughter can be heard in the background.

[Image: 9QBn3eQ.jpg]





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Jon Willis (04-06-2018), Peter Fn Gilmour (04-07-2018), Vincent Lane (04-11-2018)




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