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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare RP Board
The Wave
Author Message
Prof. Bobby Bourbon Offline
Mad Scientist



XWF FanBase:
The 'cool' kliq fans

(booed by casual fans; opportunistic; often plays dirty while setting the trends)


#1
06-25-2018, 05:47 AM

Robbie Bourbon squares off against Doctor Louis D'Ville at the next Warfare. Both men have seen each other in the past, though each time in tag team matches.

Can one finally finish the other?

THE WAVE

We open to hear the sound of crickets. In the dim, dark place we find ourselves, Robbie Bourbon is standing. Beside him are Cyberjaw, the man with the cybernetic jaw, and Diamondback, the man who can blend into any crowd. Each of the Bourbon Men are holding shotguns.

Why are we holding these?

Varmints.

Varmints? What is this, an Elmer Fudd cartoon?

I hope not.

Diamondback hurriedly pats the top of his own head to make sure he isn't bald.

No, there have been a few creatures lurking in my fields.

The camera zooms out to show Robbie and his guys are standing front and center in front of a massive marijuana field. A cricket chirps.

Someone or something has been cutting into my crops, fellas, and we're going to find out what and if need be, shoot it or them.

What? That sounds really, really Cartel-ish of you.

What? No! Nothing like the cartels. I'm not going out of my way to kill people to show some kind of dominance, I'm just going to find the low down dirty sumbitches that are cutting into my profits and terminate them. It's all perfectly corporate.

What do you think it is?

Well, it could be a couple of college kids, in which case just shoot to wound.

You want us to shoot college kids?

I thought only high school kids got shot!

You're loaded with rock salt, it's less than lethal, so long as you're not point blank and aiming for their heads, doofus.

What else could it be?

A pair of raccoons scamper by, one wearing a Rastafarian tam, the other in a hemp woven poncho. They look up at Robbie, Diamondback, and Cyberjaw, and wave. Robbie returns the gesture with a peace sign as Diamondback and Cyberjaw look shocked.

Well, they're cool. They're my quality assurance team.

Quality assurance? How do you understand what they say? Do you speak raccoon?

What? Of course not. But I really, really liked Super Mario Brothers 3, and I am trying to market to the retro-focused thirty somethings by selling Raccoon Leaf.

Oh. That's kind of clever.

Thanks, you don't have to be super clever when naming strains of ganja, my friend. OG Skywalker, White Rhino, Purple Haze, so long as it sounds like it's fun and has some connotations to pop culture from the past fifty years you're golden.

What about Pineapple Express?

Oh? That's fiction. I might as well tell people I'm selling Zuzu's Petals, or Halfling Pipe-weed.

Those are cool names.

Yeah, why don't you just sell the strains as those?

Robbie rolls his eyes.

Because it's Raccoon Leaf.

The raccoons chitter and give Robbie a thumbs up. He returns the gesture as they each pull out tiny little raccoon sized marijuana cigarettes and light up, Robbie and the raccoons.

You know, we could always be your QA team.

No.

Why not?

Robbie exhales, looks at the rest of the super tiny joint, Wu Tang's that thing (meaning he just sucks the lit roach back into his throat and swallows), belches, and looks at his goons.

It's below your pay grade.

We don't get paid.

Shush. Go run around my fields and find whoever is stealing from my stash.

'Whoever'? Are you sure it's not 'whomever'?

I think it's 'whomever'.

Whatever.

No, 'whomever'.

Fine. Whomever doesn't get their asses into that God damned field and find out what's happening to my crops can find new couches to crash on.

We cut back to see the Bourbon Dojo, and the camera speeds through a corridor to a closed door. It opens and inside is a full bedroom set with bunk couches for Cyberjaw and Diamondback to sleep in. We cut back to the field.

What if it's...

You know...

No, I don't get where you're going here.

Both Diamondback and Cyberjaw look at each other and gulp.

D'Ville.

The devil you say?

No.

Louis D'Ville.

That scary guy.

Pfft. Fat chance. Look, I respect the man and what he's accomplished in his career. I remember the battles we have seen each other in, and it may be a miracle that I don't have a permanent divot in my skull from his fucking knees, but he doesn't strike me as the type to raid someone's pot farm.

Aren't you going to stop him, since he's trying to poison the people, twist their souls, all that jazz?

Nah. Nah. He's just the other side of the same coin, I reckon. I have hope and faith for the people, ready to protect them at a moment's notice, he mocks them and their frailty, but I think it's because, at heart, we both think the people are kinda dumb and feeble. Sheep in the lea, I want to showcase them for wool, he wants to make mutton.

And that means...

Well, it means he's going to hit me as hard as he can, and I would expect no less. Also, it means I'm going to take whatever beating he thinks he can throw at me, and he should expect no less. The question is how well he's going to handle being treated like a chew toy being tossed to a great, big Rottweiler.

But, he's so scary.

Scary? Scary? The man has a legacy, but being frightening isn't what I would say about him. He's a little old dude.

Oh, okay boss, if you say so.

I do.

Louis D'Ville is so old his Social Security Number is only five digits.

Louis D'Ville is so old he remembers when slavery was legal. In England.

Louis D'Ville is so old he calls Bob Barker 'young man'.

Louis D'Ville is so old he remembers what life was like before cars.

Before carriages.

Before the invention of the axle.


Are you sure you should be making fun of the elderly?

Why not? They're a funny little bunch of farts. Speaking of which, Louis D'Ville is so old he farts dust.

Louis D'Ville is so old he has an active AOL email.


I didn't know people still used that.

Oh, sure.

But, with all that age comes wisdom, and experience.

Sure, I guess. I mean, Louis D'Ville is the master of the slide rule, cars that have choke starters, getting his mail from the Pony Express, and sending packages via the Dutch East India Company. His first match was in Rome. In the Colosseum. Marcus Aurelius asked him for his autograph. He may very well have put out the first fire. Whenever he sees a Picasso, a Rembrandt, or a Van Gogh he compares it to the cave paintings he had growing up.

Cyberjaw and Diamondback smirk, looking a little more at ease.

There you go, guys. You don't worry about Ol' Louis D'Ville. Leave that to me. You just need to worry about who or what is raiding my pot fields and make sure you shoot them with rock salt.

Diamondback and Cyberjaw nod in approval, looking ever the more confident. They traipse off into the tall cannabis plants. Robbie rolls his eyes, looks at the dirt, then up at the camera. His face is graven.

Sometimes you have to convince kids that the boogeyman doesn't exist.

Sometimes you have to take the boogeyman out.

[Image: DtUCPfZ.png]
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[-] The following 2 users Like Prof. Bobby Bourbon's post:
Doctor Louis D'Ville (06-25-2018), The Engineer (06-25-2018)




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