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X-treme Wrestling Federation BOARDS » Savage Boards » "Savage Saturday Night" RP Board
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Dinner with the dead... the art of deception, when an undead abomination needs to lie
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Zane Norrison Offline
The Post-Mortem Punk



XWF FanBase:
Mixed

(loved by some; hated by some; dips between clean/dirty)


Post: #1
06-13-2019 10:54 PM

(OOC notation - continued from - http://xwf99.com/showthread.php?tid=33876)


[Image: cxHeBPC.jpg]


"Because you're dead."


"Excuse me?"


"You are dead. Deceased. Not living. Exmortis. Dead. Comprende?"


Suddenly... I felt as though all eyes were on me. There was an awkward hush and I believe someone coughed, as a slight rush of anxiety swept over me. Fuck. There was also a cricket chirping like crazy somewhere. Never have I been called out like that before, the fact that a kid was doing it, somehow made it all the worse. I had to get it together, I could handle the situation and take control. I knew I could. Didn't I? No... yeah, I got this situation under control. Totally. I mean... geeze louise, if I couldn't handle a child, what hope would I have against a torch and pitchfork wielding mob.


"What?!?!"


Laughter spilled forth as I feigned a look of disbelief and confusion.


"I'm not dead. Why would you ever even suggest such a ridiculous thing?"


"Well, Francine did tell us you work in a morgue, maybe Carl just got a little confused. You know the overactive imagination of kids!"


Chuck Styles interjected, chuckling as he stuffed a forkful of baked potato into his mouth.


"Probably stayed up late one night and watched way too many horror flicks."


"No, that's not it... I mean, yes I know Zane works in a morgue but I wouldn't mix up working with the dead... with actually being dead! Come on! I'm not retarded. That bus I get on every morning, goes to a school for the gifted. Scholars and academe elite. It just so happens, it's also small. Or short, if you will. Anyway, the point is that I'm not a paste eating, mittens pinned on my coat, safety scissors retard. I'm not retarded."


"Hey! We don't use that word in the house! Remember cousin Rocko."


Smacking his hand down forcefully, Chuck declared in a stern voice. He had a really commanding voice when it came out seriously. Even I jumped in my seat a little and I'm an undead abomination.


"Cousin Rocko?"


I changed the subject quickly, moving my food around a tad on my plate with my fork.


"He's from my dad's side. Got kicked in the head by a mule. Ever since then, he hasn't been right. In the head. Last year he updated his Facebook status and told everyone that he was in a relationship."


"Okay..."


Back to confusion, this time real.


"His partner is a turnip."


"Ah, I see."


I didn't see. Anything to switch topics though.


"Oh my god! Who cares about cousin Rocko and his turnip! This is serious! There's a corpse, sitting at the table, pretending to be alive."


Awkward. More laughter. Damn this kid was persistent.


"I work in a morgue. Corpses don't tend to do that."


"Yeah, I might not work with the deceased but even I know, when your time is up, that's it. There's no wandering around and pretending to be human. You're worm food and that's about it. No more tale to tell after that."


A touching look at death by Chuck Styles, clearly he had the heart of a poet.


"What about re-animated corpses?"


"Like Frankenstein?"


Raising an inquisitive and mocking brow, I shook my head.


"No, not like Frankenstein! I'm talking about your average, everyday, rising from the grave, brain eating zombie."


Chuck chuckled so hard, I swear he almost damn near, choked on his potato. Clearing his throat, with the help of some water, he shook his head in disbelief at his son's comment.


"Okay, now I know Carl's been watching too many scary movies, zombies aren't real buddy. That's all Hollywood make believe and special effects. Sure. They look spooky and they might seem real but at the end of the day, there is no such thing as zombies. Honestly Carl, I thought you were old enough to know better than that, you seriously need to wrangle in that imagination of yours, pal. Not everyone is going to be as understanding and patient as Zane. I'm so sorry, Zane. He's young and impressionable. Don't take his comments to heart."


"Oh, I completely get it, I've been a fan of horror films all my life. When I was a kid, I was obsessed. I never accused anyone of being a zombie..."


"Not anyone that you didn't infect with your virus."


Carl interrupted, his eyes boring holes of accusation straight through me. Like spikes. Or nails to a cross that I was being crucified upon.


"Alright, I'm going to nip this in the bud, once and for all. Why on earth do you think Zane is a zombie?"


"Because besides being an employee at a morgue, he's also a wrestler for the XWF. When he debuted, he attacked several people... including audience members! In a zombie fueled rage! All of which, have never been heard from again. It's like all one big cover-up story and Atticus Black, goes right along with it. In fact, he orchestrated it. Anything to protect his precious animated corpse. It's pathetic. That man should be persecuted to the highest extent of the law. Turning on his own kind, and for what? Ratings. He's a shame to the human race. Anyhow, since Zane's outstanding debut as a wrestler, he's boasted and bragged about being a zombie! There's even footage of him.... eating human brains! Tell me... is that not enough proof, or what? I rest my case. What say you? Zombie."


Once again, there's silence as I clear my throat. Working up the words.


"I say...."


The metaphorical spotlight flickered and I snickered softly to myself.


"You caught me. It's true, I am a zombie and I wrestle for the XWF."


Even more silence engulfed the dining room(if that's at all possible) and little Effie, dropped her jaw as she looked on in horror. Little Effie was the exact replica of the kid from the original Poltergeist, by the way. So seeing this caused me to laugh. (Cue ominous) They're here... only they aren't ghosts, they're zombies.


"It's all an act though. Cooked up by Darius Xavier. C'mon it's televised wrestling, the whole thing is a gimmick. I'm as..."


Pause.


"Alive as the next man."


"Can you prove it?"


"What???"


"Prove it! Lemme feel your pulse."


"Okay, enough shenanigans, time for bed children."


"Awww... man."


Effie finally spoke.


"Fine. You win this round. Zombie."


"That's fantastic, put your plate in the sink and brush your teeth before bed. Bed is now... by the way, so scram. Skedaddle. Vamoose."


Carl rose from his seat with the eyes and expression only worn during the Spanish Inquisition. Only even more disgruntled and hate filled. Torch wielding and pitchfork carrying prejudice. Full on. This kid probably owns a Boston Bruiser t-shirt. Yeah, he definitely idolizes that fat dumbfuck, for sure. As his children left, leaving Frankie, her father and I, seated at the table, Chuck shrugged and gave a sheepish grin.


"Kids!"


From the mouths of babes, there springs truth. If he only knew...


[Image: iZombie-640x336.png]


"What a creative concept Corey. Nice movie pitch, really. I'm afraid you're going to need to bone up on your zombie facts, when it's concerning me but you'll get it right. Eventually. Or you won't. Doesn't really matter to me cause your silly high-jinx and jealous nature, doesn't bother me. Much like the words of the foolish don't. Dressing up as me and putting your girl in the part of Frankie, was a little weird but you're a kid and on top of that an addict, your kind is given to thoughts that are often askew. I won't hold it against you. I am curious though... will you be fighting this battle or will your lust filled eyed, counterpart be partaking in the fray?"


"Okay that was a jab but c'mon, it's common knowledge that her thirty year old loins are warm for your 17 year old form. Now that's a movie and also a prison sentence. Luckily, she's in the safe captivity of your cranium. How do you cope with that by the way? I mean, I see it playing out and I gotta say, having one voice in my head is enough... two, now that's verging on insanity. Schizophrenic type shit. Enough hate though. I do respect and adore Lux. She's a treat. Wish I could of heard from her instead of watch zombie hate theater but what can you do?"


"Oh and fyi, I would never kill a dog. I'm a pet owner myself. I might be a zombie but I'm not a monster... usually."



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