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Current XWF board time: 06-19-2019, 03:39 AM (time should display as Pacific time zone; please contact Admin if it appears to be wrong)                                                                
X-treme Wrestling Federation BOARDS » Savage Boards » "Savage Saturday Night" RP Board
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Dawn of the (mediocre) dead! Plus also, Zane stepped in it!
Author Message
Lux Offline
Pinretty Deadly
TITLE - HMW



XWF FanBase:
Some of everyone

(cheered; very rarely plays dirty but isn't lame either; many likable qualities)


Post: #1
06-14-2019 11:11 AM

The shot opens on Corey Smith, who is hunkered down behind a store display. He looks scared half to death, his skin is a sheen of sweat, and his breathing is coming shallow and ragged. He chances a brief look around the side of the display. The shot re-homes in on him from the front, now allowing us to see that Corey has a reusable grocery bag piled high with food, and a second small grocery cart full of makeshift weapons and other assorted survival gear like a baseball bat, a hunting knife, a lantern, a hot plate, and last but certainly not least, a softcore titty magazine. Hey, a young man has to have priorities, you know?

Drawing a deep calming breath, he drops the bag in the cart, wraps his hands around the handle and starts pushing the cart down the aisle. Glancing in every direction as he goes, he seems to be on high alert for something. Eventually, he passes by a trio of stupidly handsome male mannequins wearing khaki shorts and Lululemon shirts. Corey eyes the mannequins carefully as he passes them, but pass them he does.

But, no sooner has he turned his back does one of the “mannequins” step down off it's pedestal. Corey, instantly sensing something is up, slowly turns around.

The hot Lululemon guy outstretches his arms towards Corey hungrily and takes a halting step forward. Ugggghhhhh...where's the nearest paleo fooooood maaaaaart....ugggghhhhhh!

SHIT! Corey howls, wheeling back around and plunging into a run. Corey heads for the store exit and passes through the automatic doors at breakneck speed into a mall.

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But, the young man stops short. His eyes go wide as saucers and he gasps. The mall is loaded with hot guys, shambling aimlessly. One guy lifts up his shirt to take a Tinder pic of his abs. Another sexy blond shirtless guy is walking, oblivious to the fact that his surf board is still tethered to his ankle.

I'm so fucked! Where did they all come from?! Corey's attention is drawn to another guy who is walking through a fountain just to his left. He has long black hair and looks androgynous. Corey's gaze accidentally settles on his skin tight pants. Oh dude, I can tell you're circumcised! Gross! He shields his eyes.

The twinky punk pretty boy lurches towards Corey, eyes vacant and dead. Where's the My Chemical Romance merch...uggggghhhhhhh!

Corey looks back at his cart full of goods, shakes his head mournfully, and takes the baseball bat out before abandoning the rest. He bolts down the aisle, past another guy flexing for no reason at all before passing by what must be the last Abercrombie and Fitch store left in the country. Corey immediately senses how much danger he's in, and his foreboding is confirmed as a horde of buff Chads explode out of the front of the store.

What skin care product do you uuuuussseeeee....? One of them groans, but Corey doesn't stop. Heading for a nearby staircase he charges up it, and onto the second floor. But there's yet another mass of good looking Instagram influencers waiting for him at the top, and for some reason despite being indoors all their shirts are soaked through revealing their toned pecs and 6 pack abs.

Corey wields the bat in front of him, waving it like a lunatic. MOVE! I swear to God I'll unpretty all of you straight to hell! The Instagram models all back off, arms in the air, allowing Corey to pass. Corey keeps running. I've got to find somewhere to hide, someplace in the mall a hot guy would never go! He searches frantically and salvation comes sooner than he expects!

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YES! You know none of these motherfuckers pays less than $30 bucks for a hair cut! Corey runs into the super cuts and secures the door closed behind him by dragging a bench in front of it. Then, he proceeds into the back of the store, stopping in a small break room where he shuts that door behind him too. He drops down in a cheap plastic chair and sighs in relief.

Zane, don't mind me, I'm just trying to survive in this godawful parody of George Romero's penultimate zombie thriller, Dawn of the Dead. Though, to you I imagine it looks like paradise. But hey man, so glad you liked the creativity in my last effort. I'm glad I went with it too, especially now that I've seen that you've decided to subject us to PART TWO of your painfully awkward dinner date in which you stumbled through an interrogation at the hands of a 10 year old future College Republican. Seriously man, look at that little Ferguson Darling lookin' motherfucker. Practicing for when he finally gets to middle management and can REALLY discriminate by tossing Applebees applications in the trash from people with too many consonants in their name. Anyhow, SOMEBODY's gotta bring the innovation in this build up, so I guess it might as well be me. As always.

But look man, “hate's” a strong word and I certainly don't HATE you. You are, like Lux and I, something of an outlier on the roster. Nobody else is quite like us. And I'm certainly not saying that you're not a zombie. Given the novel length explanation that's required to explain the weird ass shit that goes on in MY head, that would be a tad hypocritical. Nah. What I am saying though is that you are...well...kind of the lamest version of what you are. I mean, zombies have pretty much been consuming (heh) popular culture for the last 50 odd years. From Romero's flicks, to numerous video games, to The Walking Dead, you lot are just EVERYWHERE. In various different forms. Too many to count! And when I was coming up with slick ways to parody the genre, I started to realize that when I compared Zane Norrison to every other kind of zombie out there you fell short in the “badass department” by a country mile.

Zombies are supposed to be amoral flesh eating animals. Or something nightmarish and beyond human understanding. Or rocket launcher wielding brick shit houses of unstoppable pain and suffering.

[Image: nemesis1.jpg]

Yeah, wow, fuck that guy! But do you see what I'm saying? You fall kind of short of the mark. I mean, you're just this impossibly cute Teen Beat cover model who dresses like a walking Hot Topic ad and fumbles through some basic questioning about shit you did on TV from somebody who won't hit puberty for another couple years. Man, “F” that noise, if you were cool you would have launched yourself across that table and shuffled little Timmy Whosafuck off this mortal coil faster than Gilly nutting to the “Semen Demon” on Twitter.

Anyhow, I think you get my point. But I know when I've overstayed my welcome and I gather it's Lux you really have a hard on for, so ask and ye shall receive.
Corey braces himself in the chair as he lets Lux to the fore. His eyes flutter for a moment and then open, and in a flash his entire countenance seems to have changed.

Hello Zane. Her tone is somewhat detached and icy. It's....not a good sign.

I'm going to dispense with the mutual respect pleasantries because let's face facts, you're a talented competitor and I'm a talented competitor but in your last promo you handed the win to me by pissing me off. You've effectively turned the dial up to 11 and taken things from “me kicking you hard enough to leave some nasty black and blues” to “me kicking you hard enough to make you vomit for 12 hours straight and forget your name.”

Now look, I accept the fact that when you sign on at the XWF nothing is sacred. Every personal detail of our lives is made public and sacrificed at the altar of mass consumption. Hell, Corey zeroed in on your love life right out of the gate.

And you zeroed in on mine. Or my lack thereof. Fair is fair.


Lux's eyes narrow and she leans forward in her seat ever so slightly pressing an unseen advantage.

But unfortunately for you, while your shot is FAIR it's also a huge trigger for me. Yes, I love Corey. No, it is not even remotely close to being a socially acceptable feeling. Hell, it's a downright IMPOSSIBLE feeling. I don't understand it. I don't like it. And there is no way I can even ACT on it. Not really. In short, it's a bit of a sore subject. But for you, it's more of a landmine that you blithely stumbled into, tearing your leg straight off and leaving you bleeding out on the field.

And here's what really disappoints me about this. Out of all the assholes I've squared off with, YOU are the only one who's resorted to that kind of cheap shot. Even Boston Bruiser didn't sink that low. Let that sink in for a bit. Now I understand that it's pretty hard to find chinks in my armor. And it's getting harder with every passing Savage. Sometimes one does need to take what they can get. I guess I just sort of assumed you wouldn't be the type. Wouldn't be the first time I was wrong.

So where does this leave you? Well, tomorrow, it leaves you across the ring from a volatile assassin from the future who was desperately trying to forget the fact that she is attracted to the 17 year old vessel she's currently inhabiting. It leaves you across the ring from a woman who has spent the last 4 months trying to work through the shame, confusion, loneliness, and anger that that attraction engenders. It leaves you across the ring from a woman who is VERY VERY upset with you and knows how to cause a complete internal amputation with a single strike.

Are you picking up what I'm putting down?

Suffice it to say Zane, this is going to HURT. I'm going to try not to make this hurt permanent for you, on the off chance your recent romantic interludes have left you with a temporary deficit of common sense. But I'm not making any promises. And suffice it to say, no, you will not be walking out with the Television Championship.

Now, you may be tempted to take this as evidence that I'm “shook” or “off my game”now, or one of those chestnuts. Sure. Take it that way. In fact, I'd love for you to walk into this match at an even bigger disadvantage. But the fact is Zane, I don't get “shook”. I've seen way too much to get shaken by anything less than world ending catastrophe. What I do get is focused and even when I'm properly motivated. And I'm properly motivated. Sorry in advance.

Tag.

The body tenses up as they switch consciousness again. With Corey back in charge, he drops into a mocking chuckle.

Ohhhhh shiiiit, you gonna diiiiiiieeeeee! AGAIN! I haven't seen her like that since....

Corey stops suddenly, his expression suddenly looking more pensive. His lip tics a bit. Something is suddenly bothering him.

Well, it's been a bit. Anyway, I hope you survive Saturday. But I'm not putting any money down on it. Later.

[Image: lmt9uk5.jpg]

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Noah Jackson (06-14-2019)
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