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Give a man a gun, he can rob a bank. Give a man a bank, he can rob the world. Part 3
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CCP Offline
Champions get their name in red!
TITLE - Tag Champion

XWF FanBase:
Very random

(heel alignment but liked by many; has earned respect despite breaking the rules often)

Post: #1
05-23-2020 02:35 PM

::::Continued From:::::
When Life gives you lemons make Russian lemonade.

Alexei post killing a man in cold blood. Robert “The Omega” Main and Chronic Chris Page, the Tag Team Champions of the world. Thunder Knuckles, vice presidential hopeful and XBUX Champion, are landing into Chicago Midway International Airport. Somehow Jimmy was able to slip into the entranceway as the private jet courtesy of Alexei was docked. Jimmy knew full well that Thunder Knuckles would be the first off the plane. Thunder Knuckles hates planes. Jimmy was correct. Thunder Knuckles comes charging off the plane screaming.

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Yeah, blow me mother fuckers! Ever heard of Bob goddamn Denver? Fucking flight attendants - oh, HEY! JIMMY!

Thunder Knuckles trying to walk past Jimmy by simply slapping him on the back.

WAIT! Thunder Knuckles! WAIT! I have some bad news…

Thunder Knuckles turns back to Jimmy.

What’s the news?

At this point, Alexei and Catyslism walk past Jimmy and Thunder Knuckles. Thunder Knuckles waves the boys on to a roar of boos from the media. Page, simply smirks as he walks by.

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" The sound of boos is music to my ears... These morons don't fucking get it."

Alexei glances at the media through his black sunglasses for a moment cracking his neck. Each member of the media becomes silent knowing full well Alexei is a Russian mob boss.

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американские СМИ... Дураки.

Just meet me outside, gentlemen. I got a van outside waiting on us.

Well, you went to Russia.

Thunder Knuckles look at Jimmy annoyed.

No fucking shit, Jimmy, I had to for work.

You’re running for Vice President and you went to Russia the media knows and they're all outside waiting to find out why you went to Russia. You don’t see the problem?

Who gives a fuck, Trump openly goes to Russia all the time and fornicates with Putin on the news.

At this point, all the passengers from other flights have now passed by Jimmy and Thunder Knuckles.

The media is trying to find out why you went in the first place. They are trying to make is some kind of scandal.

You’re fucking this up, Jimmy. I have shit to do. Watch this.

Jimmy tries to stop Thunder Knuckles to no avail. Thunder Knuckles storm out into the middle of the media.

Hello, the American people. Yes. I went to Russia. Turns out. That place doesn’t rock as fucking hard as America does, the people are creepy, and no one likes fucking Shchi. Period.

The members of the media start asking questions but Thunder Knuckles heard one in particular.

What was your purpose for going to Russia?

Thunder Knuckles replies to the question as he’s walking away brushing off the media.

Scouting for the XWF. Making xbux! Trying to spread the American dream.

Thunder Knuckles and Jimmy make it past the media on the walk towards the exit.

That was pretty good, Thunder Knuckles.

I know… I need you to fuck off Jimmy. I have shit to do and I think I'm going to use this time to the best of my ability.

Thunder Knuckles I have to get you ready. I’m contractually obligated to do that. You wrote the contract with the help of Steven P. Coolie.

Don’t worry Jimmy I won't sue you for it…


This time.

Thunder Knuckles smiles and pats Jimmy on the shoulder.

I’ll call you later.

Thunder Knuckles runs off to meet the team, in front of Chicago Midway International.

Perfect! You guys found the van. Just get on in. Who wants to drive? Just kidding mother fuckers, I'm driving.

Alexei takes “shotgun”. While Main and Page sit in the back.

" Hey TK why in the hell are there no windows or seats in this thing? Throw a fucking mattress on the floor and you'd have a Michael Graves child abduction starter kit. That guy is a freaking idiot."

Page grabs one of the empty duffel bags off the floor looking inside.

" What's with all these duffel bags? TK what's going on here homie?"

Leave the bag alone, for now, you two. Goddamn, just everyone chill out for a second. Quit snooping around too! Jesus Christ, here we are in a van with no windows or seats and a few duffel bags and something is up? This is normal shit.

What is the bag? Мистер Гром Костяшки Пальцев?

Thunder Knuckles while driving looks over at Alexei only addressing him.

Don’t worry about the bag, Alexei. I got you, man. As a foreigner, you have to get accustomed to our ways, man. You can’t just be asking about bags like these two fucking savages. That is what makes them effective, they’re savagery.

Thunder Knuckles now addresses everyone.

Well, I'm glad you guys wore your masks, makeup, and shit. Don’t worry Alexei I got you something. Fuck it you guys ruined the surprise. Hand me the Donald Trump mask and black leather gloves that slightly don't fit. Hand Alexei the pantyhose and tracksuit and dish the gloves. I think there are some fake moustaches for you two because XWF fans have already bootlegged your guys' masks and look. So there's no way it was Robert “The Omega Main” and "Chronic" Chris Page. just people dressed up as them with moustaches. As for guns.

Thunder Knuckles looks at Alexei.

Hey, Alex in the glove box.

Alexei starts to feel around inside the glove box.

Not before you put on your rubber gloves, man. Jesus, act like you've done this before. Just confirm if they're in there.

Alexei nods yes to Thunder Knuckles.

Speak to me like that again, and I'll убить тебя!

I don't speak Russian... Bu this fucking guy gets it... Now then, we got a couple of nine millimetres, five. I think.

Thunder Knuckles looks back at Alexei again. Alexei checks again then nods confirming there are five. Alexie then doses something unexpected pulling a colt 1911 from his suit jacket pointing the .45 calibre at Thunder Knuckles head while he continues to drive.

I use rrreal weapon.

God damn coldblooded MOFO! TK punches the roof of the van delighted with Alexei's enthusiasm. So, I'm getting two. I feel like we’re missing someone. Fuck it. We won't get to the bank for a while, so, normally while I'm driving. Jimmy tells me a bit about our opponents. How about you guys speak your peace. I’ll shut the fuck up and let you guys’ process the fact that you're about to rob a bank.

Page and Main both scratch their heads.

" Hey you drafted the guy... I'm always down for an influx of cash.

Robert leans towards the front seat placing his hand on Alexei's shoulder.

" Alexei are you good with this? A man in your unique position may have more at risk than each of us."

Alexei smiles lighting a cigarette.

Мистер Main... I have connection herrre. We get money I can launderrr. So, да... I'm in.

Main turns to Page.

" Well shit... If we are going to do this I'd at least like to have a better weapon... Maybe an AR-15 and a bulletproof vest."

Page nods along in agreement as he loads a clip with hollow points keeping his voice low so only Main can hear him.

" I agree, one-hundred per-cent Main, TK has been odd since Russia. Always on his phone... Do you think he might be setting us up to take the fall for this?"

Robert leers around the van loading his nine.

" Something is certainly off, but the guy is too fucking greedy to not do this the right way."

” As if tearing down Shane’s team wasn’t easy enough I’d be a fool if we didn’t at least touch on the possibilities of just who we might encounter after we dispose of the last member of Carver’s team.”

Page places his weapon in his waistband.

" Be careful... I'd be a shame if you shot your dick off."

Page scoffs.

" It'd take more than this to knock this pork sword down a notch."

Page and Main share a laugh.

” I think it’s safe to say that when it comes to the actual Main Event of this polished turd they’re calling Wargames it going to be Cataclysm taking on Team Warstien taking on Team Atara and the survivors of their respective teams.”

Chris lights a match and sparks a joint as Robert continues.

” If the XWF is anything it’s predictable when it comes to this type of shit, and let’s not pretend that Team Warstein and Team Atara won’t try to align themselves to eliminate the powerhouse that is Robert Main and Chris Page. When it comes to Fuzz we've got that mother fucker by the sack. He has to know going in that if he faces us, it's lights out again and Atara. Shit, I don't see a threat, we took a couple of bitches to the curb a few weeks on Savage, this is nothing different. It's going to be boots to asses... Hell, we've got a fucking mob boss rolling with us for Christ sakes... Can you say drive-by? Alexei will have these fools wearing concrete shoes if they don't watch their tone.”

Chris exhales some smoke.

"Getting high before a bank robbery? This is classic."

"Calms my nerves... Lord knows wit this crew bullets will be flying as soon as we walk in... Everyone in this van right now is certified insane. I've told them fools that they were at a distinct disadvantage, I’ve preached that while we’re all on teams… We’re all individuals as well, right Thunder Knuckles?”

Chris pulls on the joint as Thunder Knuckles nods along.

” Only there’s no individual when it comes to Cataclysm. When one wins, we both win regardless of any situation.”

Chris exhales more smoke before spouting off.

” It’s not a secret that we don’t play well with others, and if the powers that be would let us do this alone we’d have zero need for Alexei no offence hoss or Thunder Knuckles while the rest of these suckers; that occupy Shawn’s team, Cent’s team, Carnes team and even Atara’s team NEED the weight that was hand-selected by your shit captains.”

” None of you are capable of getting to our level without the assistance that accompanies you. Shawn the famous jock rider is a perfect example of biting off more than he can chew. Yet again I might add. He rode the skirt of Noah Jackson all the way to the Universal Championship, before cutting his throat and leaving him for dead at March Madness. Then on Savage, he took all that time and planning to attack us on Savage and he fucked that up. He still ate another Dead Man's Hand and got his ass beat like the punk bitch he is. Yet here we are dusting it off prepared to embarrass you again when it fucking matters… Between those ropes on another grand stage... All the eyes are watching Shawn and once again they will see you for what you are... A boring transitional Champion with lots of bark but no bite. Have fun eating those teeth again.”

Thunder Knuckles speaks up.

The husk of Shane Carver, unfortunately, has to pay for what the man did to ‘Ol Thunder Knuckles. There is nothing I'd like more than to get my hands on the man himself. I mean what kinda man can't control his mind? Weak.

The Pimped Gun. Still, you’re just about as useless as a two-dollar bill. Peter Fucking Gilmour has more street credibility than you. At least he comes out of the locker room week in and week out. When was his last match? Does anyone know?

The A/C unit in the van has made the ride comfortable enough, even though it is Chicago and you can smell the air through the car's ductwork.

Now Peter Gilmour’s dick...With the Powers. Give me a fucking break, will ya. Just kidding, I saw a couple of fucking highlights on the way back from Russia. I’m about as impressed as hearing the news that Centurion retains his title via submission in a pinfall only match. No even better. Don’t even get me started about that island chick that nut hugs Centurion. What’s her fucking name? Tulips Kealipi’ or some shit, don’t fucking care. She’s as goddamn boring as he is.

What other fucking clowns are there? The team we’re going up against doesn’t stand a chance. I might as well attack some more. Micheal Graves that mother fucker hit me with some purple fucking myst… He got drafted by fucking Taco Carnes. Who also drafted MasterMind...fucking dumb. On the topic of dumb… Taco Carnes drafted the little emo fuck, Zane. Shut the fuck up. Are you trying to win? Looked like you were willing to try when you got Graves. Then after that, you shit the bed…

Atara… Noticed you did pick me, your mistake. Are you done staying in the shadows? Awe, come on, I’m just kidding. I know you're gonna be there for a while. I mean for fuck sake, you get your hands two titles, at the same time, and lose them in the same week. I won my title the same night you did. Look at me now. Still Champ. She did get Shooter Syn, too bad dude already went on vacation. What a shame. The only thing that’s going to save her is Jim Jimson. Felix, sorry you had to get drafted by Atara. She doesn’t know she’s lost yet. She was hoping to shadow your white-hot success after your recent victory over… Her.

Speaking of Champs looks like Shawn put together a ragtag bunch of fucking losers, didn’t he. Look at it… Highlights of team Universal Champion. Shawn, BigD, and a fucking head. I would say Vanessa Gibson but she’ll probably do what Venessa Gibson does. Which is bail out on her team. Isn’t that right, Vita?

I guess I should waste some fucking breath on fucking Brian Storm… Seeing as he’s in the first match. I’d call him Mike but he’s so irrelevant that I'm afraid everyone has forgotten that by now. Brian Storm. Sucks. BOOM! Shocker for the XWF fans. I know.

The black van comes to a screeching halt outside the bank.

You fuckers ready, get those masks and moustaches on and grab those duffel bags its cheddar cheese time. Let's go, bitches!

Page kicked the back door of the van open hopping out onto the pavement below, Main followed behind giving the bank a once over. The banksters had us all corralled like cows leading us all to slaughter. Most of us were too foolish and even too lazy to comprehend finance, too intimidated fearing the shit economy was going to collapse. This moment in time was an opportunity to give the banking system the middle finger, a chance to finally become whole in a system meant to crush the common person underneath the weight of debt. Robert could see the gig for what it was a system that was nothing more than a straightforward shakedown of the little guy. All the big banks had to do was create money by punching numbers and letters on a keyboard as we all slaved away to pay it back. With one click they could take it all unless you had it in hand, and if you don't. Then my friend you don't have a damn thing. They had every one of us by the fucking balls, keeping the profits for privately owned banks, like the federal reserve, paying themselves blasphemous sums of money which they then converted into real goods for themselves of course. Those sons of bitches were unruly wretches giving themselves fancy gifts, property, fine jewellery, cars, the very best that life had to offer. On our dime of course. The bankers laughed from their ivory towers telling us all that the world economy needed them. A lie most of us believed.


Alexei was now locked and loaded making his way up the bank steps leading up the rear with his black duffel bag draped over his back. One by each man entered the bank, calm, cool and strangely collected. Page made the fist move as he ran his right hand over one of the soft chairs pulling his nine millimeter from the waistband of his jeans. Alexei took a deep breath listening to classical music where he found comfort while watching the gloomy lighting reflect off his 1911 pistol, yet the bank reception area was still utterly soulless. TK chuckled as he walked past all the posters of perfect families like the ones we all see billboards trying to advertise, TK knew the truth, it was all bull shit, a dog and pony show... These models though were different. They were middle-aged, with a man with salt and pepper hair peering out of a pair of steel-rimmed glasses, with a huge smile on his face.

God damn hipsters.

There were four tellers with their hands in the air not moving a muscle as each man approached tossing their duffel bags on the tellers counters waiving their guns in each of the teller's faces. This isn't the first time these tellers have seen a situation like this. TK stuck both of his guns into the tellers chest.

All the money you have in each of these duffel bags now!

Как он и сказал. Деньги в сумке.

English bro...

Alexei sighs.

Money in bag.

" You heard them!"

Robert gave a slight gesture motioning with his nine milly to put the money in the bag. The robbery was nothing more than simple greed with a dash of malice, in a way it was revenge served on a freezing block of ice. Each teller begins loading each of the duffel bags as time expeditiously rushed by.

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::::To Be Continued::::

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With Robert "The Omega" Main

- 2019 Heel of the Year
- 2019 Locker Room Leader of the Year (suck it Raven)
- 2019 Feud of the Year w. Robert Main (you’re welcome)
- Former XWF World Heavyweight Champion
- The most hated man in XWF History
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