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X-treme Wrestling Federation BOARDS » XWF PPV Boards » March Madness 2020 RP Board
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The One Where Madison Dies of the Corona Virus
Author Message
Madison Dyson Offline
Fair and Balanced (and Evil)
TITLE - King of XWF

XWF FanBase:
Not Over

(the perfect heel; hated even by the fans who usually cheer heels; pisses off internet fans too)

Post: #1
03-23-2020 04:47 PM

Madison comes to and finds herself immersed in...nothing.


Her eyes flutter open as sensation returns to her like a slowly rolling tide. But it doesn't take long for her to take in her surroundings. Or absence thereof.

Wha...what? Wait...what, WHAT, WHAAAAAAAAT?!

And then, of course, there is the reasoned response to aformentioned surroundings.


Madison panics, looking hither and yon trying to find some tangible connection to objective reality. But there's nada. Madison is literally just hanging suspended in pitch darkness. There is nothing to touch or hold onto. Not even a true sense of up or down to establish a vestibular orientation. Madison flails about, spinning ass over tea kettle in this gravity-less void. And just when she thinks her panic is going to result in a heart attack....

Oh, there you are you silly goose!

A sing songy voice calls out to her. Actually, at first she thought she imagined it. Hello? Is someone there?

Turn around! I'm behind you!

Madison jerks her body in a corkscrew motion so that she's facing the other way, and she sees the outline of an open door with a brilliant light pouring out of it in the midst of all that darkness.

[Image: door-light-4.png]

Oh my God! Madison calls out, and she again starts flailing in the darkness, trying to make her way towards the door but gaining no purchase at all.

Breast stroke, girl! Breast stroke!

Madison, desperate, starts doing the breast stroke towards the door and is delighted when she starts to make some progress. Finally, reaching the mysterious door, she throws it open and.....

[Image: tituss_joew2d]


She sees that face standing over her. Who the hell are you?! Where the hell am I?!!

The flamboyant man extends a hand to help Madison up and she takes it with some hesitation. He adjusts his lapels a bit, frowning and looking reluctant. I'm sorry to have to tell you this Ms. Dyson, but you have died of the Corona Virus and are now in Hell.

Madison pauses, looks at him askew, and then starts to laugh uproariously. HAHAHAHAHA! Ok....ok! Who put you up to this? She claps him on the shoulder. You know how I know this is bullshit? That doesn't happen to rich, famous beautiful people like me, boo! I'm gonna die loaded to the gills on high quality nose candy on top of a fat pile of cash. Only the lesser people die of Corona Virus. Like, Jesus.... she shakes her head incredulously and finally starts to get a sense of her surroundings. She appears to be in an incredibly generic lobby, with one of those displays you see at travel stations featuring brochures for local tourist traps. So where am I really?

The man waves her over to a window, and with an eye roll she obliges. What? He pulls aside the cheap fabric curtain, revealing this scene just outside.

[Image: constantine-header-e1325582639233.jpg]


Yup! The man lets the curtain fall. So, how 'bout we start again? He extends his hand for a shake. My name is Bryce, and I'll be your guide through your orientation process here today.

Orientation process?

Well suuuuure! We don't want folks rollin' up into the rest of eternity without even an idea of what's goin' down! This is Hell baby, not some bush league cruise line!

Madison starts to massage her temples. Okay...hold on...hold on...this is a lot to take in.

Girrrrlllll, believe me, I know! Take your time. He checks his watch. But not too much time, we're runnin' a tight schedule.

I can't....UGGGHHHHH! She stomps petulantly. Do you know how FRUSTRATING this is?! I wasn't supposed to die yet! I was just about to win March Madness! And I was gonna help a Pagan God of Slaughter usher in a thousand years of darkness for shits and giggles! She gasps. Oh damn it! I never even gave Shane back his Ben Wa balls!

Bryce looks grossed out. Bitch, why you borrowin' that shit?!

I wanted to “try before I buy”! He washed them...he washed them! Madison sighs deeply. But I guess none of it matters anymore, does it?

Look, I know this is rough. And I'll help you any way I can. He walks over to the display of brochures and plucks one out. They look like those booklets you get about touristy excursions you can pick on a cruise. Let's start with this. You have to pick your punishment for the next 1000 years.

1000 years?! That's a long ass time! I can't even commit to a man for longer than a month! She snatches the brochure out of his hand and gives it a once over. Then, scrunching her nose up in dissatisfaction, she stuffs it back into the display and scans the rest of them. These are all just different variations of things going up my ass for a thousand years! Fire ants up my ass! Cacti up my ass! Angry feral cats up my ass! All these options suck!

Bryce clasps his hands together. Well, this IS Hell.

Yeah, but you would think there would be a little variety, you know?

Bryce waves his hands dismissively. Okay, okay, we'll work on the thousand years of horrific punishment later. Let's start with something else. He beckons for her to follow him into the next room. They pass through a door at the end of the lobby and into a chamber that looks like this.

[Image: B549DE01-2BAE-47D2-AA4C-4E6EDB318FCF.jpe...&w=970]

What the fuck is this?

The first step in your eternal damnation. Have a seat please!

What if I don't want to?

Bryce shoots Madison a sassy look. Do you think you have a choice?

Madison mulls it over. Well at least tell me what happens next.

Sure! Her guide instantly goes chipper. So, you see that big goofy helmet on top of the chair? Well, that's going to broadcast the memories of every sin you have EVER committed into your head.

Really?! She starts to hop up and down and clap her hands, giddy as a school girl. It'll be like a personal highlight reel!

...sort of. He gestures towards the chair again and Madison sits in it readily. Bryce continues as he pulls the helmet down over Madison's head. You want the radio on or off?

Radio...? She smirks. Hell yeah! I want a musical score for all my greatest hits!

With a flick of his wrists, the chamber starts to broadcast audio.

Welcome to HATE 66.6 FM! Your one and only source for the hottest hits as you burn in ETERNAL HELLFIRE!!

Bryce sashays out in front of Madison. I'm gonna leave you to your thing. I'll be back after you're done. Toodles! He waggles his fingers at her.

Yeah, sure. She gives him a half assed wave and watches him leave as she settles back into the chair. The radio continues to play.


Madison gasps in excitement. Oooooooh!


Madison's lips turn down into a deep frown. Fuuuuuuuuck!

No longer looking quite so confident, Madison bites her bottom lip anxiously. Maybe this really is hell.... And then, the helmet starts to thrum with a strange energy. Madison's body twitches and she gives a little cry of surprise as an image is beamed directly into her head.

Replay:We return to how I created the Misfits.

You may remember last time, my wife, Maria and I, discussed a situation where...

Madison's features turn to pure dread. Her body goes rigid. Uhhhh...UHHHHH, BRYCE?! Heh.....I think there's been some kind of mistake! This isn't about me, it's just a shitty Mastermind promo! BRYYYYYCE?! She starts to arise, but suddenly leather straps snap up from out of nowhere and encircle her pinning her into the chair! Oh my God! NO NO NO NO! NOT THIS, ANYTHING BUT THIS!

She screams.


Madison is slumped over, her gaze looking like a traumatized thousand yard stare as a thin stream of drool flows unhindered from her mouth. Her lips barely part as she drones on like her brain has been turned to mush. She sings in an off key tune.... Back off I'll take you on....Headstrong to take on anyone....I know that you are wrong....

And then, just as abruptly as it started, it all stops. The broadcast into her head, the radio, even the tethers binding her to the seat slink away. It takes Madison a moment to return to her senses and realize the torture is at an end. When she does, she gasps happily and goes to throw herself out of the seat before remembering she's still affixed to the helmet. Frantically, she pushes it up and off of her and falls to her knees in front of the chair.

Oh my God! Oh my God! Thank Christ it's OVER! Madison gets her breathing back under control and stands up. And then, her face tips over from exhaustion to rage. MASTERMIND! I BLAME YOU! She stabs a finger towards...uhhhh, you? That was the WORST FUCKING PROMO I HAVE EVER SEEN! And Engy (Dexter, not the cool one) once made me watch Drezdin's entire promo catalogue!

FUCK YOU! From the bottom of my black heart....FUCK YOU!

Like, I don't even know where to start again! I mean, you confirmed literally EVERYTHING I said about your lame misbegotten ass in my first promo. It's like you watched it and took it like it was a fucking CHECKLIST of things you SHOULD do! JESUS!

Okay...okay....deep breaths, Maddy. You got this. Wooooo-sah!
She takes a deep breath in and then out. First off, as a manager, I have never heard of any of those assholes you mentioned. Here are some managers of equivalent caliber I have heard of though!

Dr. Doctor, The Evil Physician

[Image: 14758471-evil-doctor-surgeon-attacking-t...ringes.jpg]

Lapsy, The Prolapsed Rectum

[Image: il_570xN.486918872_r2z1.jpg]

Bricky, Literally A Brick

[Image: A+brick+now+laugh_3c6437_4831627.jpg]

How? How is it possible for a grown ass man to have the subtlety of a five year old? How does this happen? I hate you so, so much Temple Grandin.

Next up, I wanted to thank you kindly for that scintillating lecture on the difference between full and part time employees, which is definitely the kind of thing that will finally get you over with the fans and not at all a dull, worthless time suck. But the real meat and potatoes was you thinking you were on to something when you pointed out that I was just a part time athlete.

So riddle me this you walking pile of Ambien, why is it that this mere part timer can post a winning record while a guy like you who should by all accounts have zero ring rust can't manage to break even? Could it be that...YOU SUCK? Why is it that despite being a part timer at best before December I came in and tore ass through my first 5 return matches like it was nothing, whereas you despite wrestling a whole hell of a lot more than me, are about as consistent as an erection on a diabetic octogenarian?

See, here's the big difference between you and I Mastermind. And pay attention, because this is why I'm gonna win and why my part time status means absolutely NOTHING.
She points to herself. I can turn it on whenever I want. When I desire something, I acquire it. When I want to win something, I win it. Success, for me, is a simple switch that can be turned on and off as I please. Flick, flick! She mimes flicking a switch. And March Madness? I want it. I want that crown. I want that title shot award. Flick, flick. It's mine.

You, on the other hand, are more like a coin flip. I mean, given your own self described comeback record since 2018, it is LITERALLY 50/50 whether you win a match. You're random, you're are one MESSY BITCH. And that's not even touching on the fact that you're dumb and oblivious as fuck. You say my perception is weak? Says the guy who just treated us to another corny ass song parody that literally nobody in their right fucking mind asked for? Says the guy who continuously gets laughed at and maligned and makes absolutely no move to change anything for the better? And why? Because, in your own words, “I no longer care”.
Madison does a sarcastic chef's kiss. That's the first true thing you've said in AGES.

I'm gonna lay it all out for you. People like YOU don't beat people like ME. I'm smarter than you. I'm more clever than you. I'm nastier than you. I'm funnier than you. I have a better record than you. And that's not ego. That's not bluster. They're just facts. You ask anybody in that locker room, ask 'em, and they may not wanna admit it. They might huff and puff and look at their shoes rather than verbalize it, but they know. They know. Hell, Mastermind, the whole fucking world knows. It's why I was an odds on favorite to win the whole damn thing.

And I bet you're gonna try to spin this like you're in my head, getting me all hot and bothered. And you know what? You're goddamn right I'm mad. I'm SO MAD that I'm still promoing for this match even though I'm DEAD! You know why?! Because you still get to be in March Madness and I don't! Fuck it, lets turn the dial up even higher! I'm mad because you get to have ANTHING at any time when somebody with an iota of talent DOESN'T. Now what the fuck does that mean? It means that any time your mediocre ass held a championship, there were probably, conservatively, at least 20 people in the fed who were BETTER THAN YOU. But by some strange confluence of luck and opponents who didn't give a shit, you still somehow got a belt. And it blows my goddamn mind that despite how thoroughly awful and uninspiring you are that you have gotten any measure of success and recognition. If the XWF was truly just and merit based, you would be going pillar to post with Red-X every week because that's where you belong.

Screw it, dial up to 11 now! Jim Jimson is more entertaining and would make for a better champion than you. Jim fucking Jimson. Guy can't even win a match and I'd still rather nibble a Xanny bar and mainline 20 of his promos back to back rather than watch 30 seconds of whatever autistic word salad you vomited up this week.

Yeah, we're ending on me praising Jimson. Fuck you Mastermind. Eat shit and die. I'm done.

Ms. Dyson! Ms. Dyson!

Madison is distracted by the sight of Bryce calling out her name and running up to her. Madison recoils.

Oh and you can fuck right off too Bryce! I......!

Wait! Don't be mad! I have something very important to tell you! Bryce puffs, trying to catch his breath. This has never happened before....

Spit it out.

The guide looks incredulous as he pulls a piece of paper out of his breast pocket and hands it to Madison. You've received a Stay of Damnation.

Madison unfolds the paper and looks at it uncomprehendingly. So what does that mean?

You're not bound for hell! Bryce shakes his head and whistles. And moreover, GOD HIMSELF WANTS TO TALK TO YOU!

Madison's jaw drops, and the paper slips from her hands And then, slowly, her lips curl up into a devilish smile. Sweet....

[Image: 36c58025d5ba4e37e5df22ee9af443f9--sherri...-girls.jpg]

[Image: 00145839.0001.gif]

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