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Η φαντασία είναι καλύτερη από την Πραγματικότητα
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Shawn Warstein Offline
Blood In Blood Out

XWF FanBase:
Very random

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

Post: #1
05-30-2020 07:52 PM

“Okay Shawn, I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up too late. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.” Atara gets up from the couch leaving me there flipping through the tv channels.

“No. All these channels and not a single fucking thing worth watching.”
Frustrated I grab my drink from the table and take a large swig. I grab the bottle of bourbon next to it and pour myself another. Just then something catches my eye.

“You’ve got to be kidding me? QVC is still a thing?” I turn the volume up on the TV and lean forward. “I wonder what garbage they’re selling these days..”

The channel lands on QVC, where a well dressed, female, presenter is preparing to introduce the next product.

[Image: 0cHyCW3.jpg]

"Well, that'll certainly be a hot item come Christmas time!" she speaks about the previous, unknown thing before walking over to a white table with something else on it. "Speaking of hot items, our next product will surely blow your minds, but don't take MY word for it............."

All of a sudden, Big D comes smashing through the back wall like the Kool-Aid man, scaring the hell out of the host.

"Jesus Christ!" she whispers, grasping her chest. "I thought you were gonna enter from the side, like everyone else!"

"Sorry, Julia, here on Q-V-D we believe in the element of surprise!" Big D explains as his eyes bulge out of his head with intensity. "That's the type of *censor* Centurion and the rest of 'em will have to watch out for Sunday night!"

Julia tries her best to get things back on track, straightening her outfit and taking a step forward. "Well, it certainly got me!" she exclaims before turning her attention back towards the product. "Big D, could you tell us what we have here?"

"Why certainly!" D responds, overselling his enthusiasm as he turns towards the camera, addressing the audience at home. "Do you like big D's in your mouth?................."

Julia covers her mouth in horror at the potential double meaning behind D's words, but he doesn't seem to notice.

"What about your wife, or children?" Big D continues without battin' an eye. "I'm sure grandma could use a nice, big D every now and then!"

The QVC host face palms, leaving her head buried in her hands. She begins to contemplate where she'll be working after the FCC fires her thanks to Big D's antics. As if things already couldn't get any worse, D's next comment just adds salt to the wound.

"Hell, I'm sure Julia here needs a couple big D's in her mouth after a long day of work............."

The host drops her hands, her jaw dropping with them, as she looks at Big D in disgust. "Excuse me?!"

Being in that zone D tends to get in sometimes, he completely blows off Julia and continues with his sales pitch, as he finally unveils his product. "Well, now you can enjoy big D's anytime you want thanks to the Big D Waffle Iron from Oster!"

[Image: IAJxvoh.jpg]

At this point, Julia wants to kill Big D, afterall, this isn't the first run-in she's had with him. Julia is a very active feminist, and just so happened to be in the parking lot with some of her lesbian friends that time PETA and the LGBTQ destroyed his car. Though she wasn't gay herself(other than those nine times in college), Julia felt it was important to protest a man who'd beat up a woman AND an owl WITH CONSENT. It was for that reason she didn't want him on her show, but she had no other choice. After all of her success in the world of QVC, there was no way she could go back to sucking dick to pay the bills!

"Is your waffle iron older than Centurion? Does it burn out faster than Robbie Bourbon in a Title match?" Big D spouts on, oblivious to the fact his co-host hates him. "Well, then, try my new Big D Waffle Iron and you too can be a World Champion, just like my War Games Captain!"

Big D walks away from the waffle iron, to another table. On it rests a plate with some pre-made waffles on it, one of which D grabs and shows the camera.

[Image: cPkUz8a.png]

"That's a big D, if I do say so myself," he says with a blatant smile, revealing he's been fully aware of what he's been saying the entire time. "You can add whatever you want to 'em........" Big D takes a step to the side, revealing a small table with a variety of toppings on it. "Syrup, butter, whipped creeeeeeeam!"

Big D's creepy Bill Cosby impression on the word 'cream' sends chills down Julia's spine.

"We've even got some Hawaiian stuff for Tula!"

Julia looks pleased that D was actually being sensitive and providing for a woman, despite her being an enemy of his. Those feelings get instantly slashed as Big D reaches in a container and slaps a handful of ham and pineapple onto the plate of waffles. His antics have gotten so ridiculous, even the producers behind the camera can be heard gasping in shock.

Big D glances from them to Julia, each person looking more mortified than the previous one. "What???" he asks, confused by their offence. "Is that not what they put on pizza?!"

Julia tries her best to fix a bad situation. "Why don't we take a few phone calls?" she suggests, pointing to yet another table near Big D. This one has a rather large phone board on it, with a bunch of blinking red lights.

"I just press any button?" D asks, walking over to the table.

"Yes" Julia replies with a nod. "All those blinking lights are callers."

Well, let's see what they have to say!" Big D bursts out with excitement as he presses a random button. "Hello, caller, you're on the air!"

"Hi, is this Big D?" a nerdy voice asks.

"Yes it is," D replies with a smirk. "Are you enjoying your new waffle maker?"

"No," the caller responds with a laugh. "I just wanted to say GO TEAM CENTURION!!!!"

An irritated Big D cuts the guy off, leaving the mere sound of a dial tone. After taking a moment to compose himself, D puts the next person on.

"Quit being a p*censor*y and fight me!" the familiar voice of Michael Graves demands.

Big D, once again, hangs up and addresses the camera. "Fun fact about our last caller........... he likes little girls!"

As the producers groan, Julia throws her notes into the air and walks off the set, but this doesn't bother D as much as the first two callers. Determined to find someone who bought his product, he goes through multiple callers, hanging up on each one for various reasons.

"Chris Chaos rules!"
"Big D's a homo!"
"Being partner's with the Universal Champion is the closest to the belt you'll ever get!"

A pissed off Big D rapidly presses the button over and over, fuming over the fact he hasn't had ONE serious caller. "I swear to God, if this person didn't buy a waffle iron, I'm gonna lose my mind!" he proclaims, ripping at his hair like a slightly fitter Chris Farley, before putting the next person on. "PLEASE tell me you're the proud owner of a brand new Big D Waffle Iron!"

"I most certainly am!" an excited voice on the other end boasts.

Big D's eyes brighten at the prospect of an ACTUAL sale. "Sir, are you tellin' me you like big Ds in your mouth?

"No!" the man gleefully responds. "But it's perfect for my useless junk collection!"

The caller's words hit Big D like a truck, as he blankly stares into the camera. "Your what?"

"My useless junk collection!" the man explains. You can almost hear the joy in his voice as he tears D down. "It'll go great with my Mastermind shirt and signed red-X action figure!"

A vein throbs in Big D's forehead as he slowly lowers his hand and presses the button to hang up, keeping his finger on it as his face turns red.


He stares at the phone board for a second, watching the blinking lights flash. They were all probably just like the others, pranksters awaiting their turn to talk shit to someone they'd NEVER dare to in person. It was at that moment Big D realized how stupid selling a waffle iron was, ESPECIALLY one in the shape of a single letter. In repeat fashion of his fiasco last year at Thanksgiving, Big D begins to tear up the stage in a fit of rage. The first thing to go was the phone board, as he yanked it off the table from which is was perched on and broke it in half over his knee, picturing every member of Team Centurion as he did so(including the two that bailed). His attention then turned to the waffle maker, a reminder of his failed marketing attempt. Big D punched it like he was Mike Tyson, giving it a few small jabs before one last cold, hard right that sent it flying off camera. One for Chaos & Tula, with the final knockout blow saved for Centurion.

After about a minute of recreating his time in a Smash Room, Big D finally calms down. As he gasps for breath(not a good sign for War Games), D looks into the camera and leaves the, likely shocked, people at home with one last message; a suggestion for their Thunder Knuckles stimulus check..............

"Coming up next, we have the XwF Universal Championship..............."

“Like Fuck he’s selling my title!!” I grab my cell phone and quickly dial the number. All I hear on the other end is a busy signal. “Great… I wonder what fuck head is going to come out of the woodwork for this.”

I lean back on the couch and begin flipping through the stations. Then the classic theme music is heard.

“Fuck Yeah! Haven’t seen this show in a minute.

[Image: Cops-Logo-New-Full-size.jpg]

The shot opens to a portly police officer in his late 40's behind the wheel of his cruiser.

[color=#98FB98]"We had a report of a Burger King manager being assaulted the other night. Security footage showed an unidentified black male to be the perpetrator. We don't have any real leads on him, but earlier in the night a member of the local homeless population was captured in their security footage too. Name's Doug, he keeps his head down and we haven't had too many issues with him so we're gonna swing on over and see if he happened to see anything that might help."

The car comes to a halt down a side road next to a dumpster; from underneath a pile of tattered blankets, Doug pokes his head up to investigate the the blinding headlights.

"Doug, my friend. How we doing tonight?"

"Officer Kilpatrick, you know me...just living the dream." He says with a groan.

"I hear ya buddy. Say, the other night you stopped in a Burger King over on 86th. Happen to notice anyone, or anything, out of place?"

"I uh...I don't really remember, I was just passing through looking for a freebie." He nervously spits out his words.

The officer furls his brow. "You don't sound too sure there, Doug. Don't worry, I'm just trying to do some homework here. Say, what's that there next to you?"

Doug's heart skips a beat as he glances over and notices the black card laying next to him.

"Doug, Doug, Doug. Say it ain't so. You boosting credit cards now?" The officer grasps his radio. "Dispatch this is Adam-28, possible 488 at the corner of 76th and Broad, requesting backup."

"10-4, sending a unit to assist." The radio chirps back.

"Come on Kilpatrick, I didn't steal anything. I just found it in the trash. It probably doesn't even work."

"Yeah that's what they all say. Why don't you hand that over to me?"

Before Doug can protest another squad car arrives. Out step two younger officers in their early 30's, grinning from ear-to-ear.

"C'mon Killy, you can't handle a ****ing bum by yourself?" The driver says with a laugh before noticing the camera aimed at him, he uses a cough to readjust his demeanor. "What do we have?"

"Our friend Doug here was just going to hand over his stolen property." He replies with a snarl. "Hand it over Doug."

"Whatever, man. I don't even want the damn thing." He reaches for the card to hand it over. As soon as his fingers make contact with it, however, Doug disappears and is instantaneously replaced by the black behemoth from the security footage.


"He's huge!"

"He's black!"

The officers turn toward one another as their disbelief slowly fades into a look of pure joy. Like giddy teenage girls they all shout in unison:

"He's resisting!"

"Ah **** here we go." The large man can barely get out his sentence as he's met with with strikes from boots and closed fists.

The strikes last for minutes, each officer striking with as much force as they can muster. One-by-one, each officer slows as they struggle to catch their breath. Exhausted and breathless, the officers look down curiously at the motionless man.

"Think we overdid it?"

The youngest looking of the three officers looks directly into the camera "He had a gun. If this makes it to any news outlet I swear to God---"

Laughter cuts him off. His chest still heaving heavily, the stunned officer turns back to the body on the ground. The large man has a smirk on his face as he dusts himself off.

"Y'all weaker than Chris Chaos' Y-chromosome." He says with a laugh while he gets to his feet. The police officers stare in awe as the man doesn't appear to have a scratch on him.

"Uh--who?" A confused Kilpatrick mutters while eyeing the unscathed man.

"A f***ing simp for some p***y he's already gotten. N****s promos need to be brought to Chris Hansen's attention, they got a real 'panel-van-with-free-puppies-written-on-the-side' vibe to 'em. N***a wants to know what a child tastes like? Put a n***a like that in the pen and they'll braid his hair and eat Skittles out his bootyhole."

"Wait, are you talking about that wrestler?" The youngest officer asks.

"Wrestler? I ain't talking about no g****n wrestler. I'm talking about the XWF's very own Sisyphus. Once upon a time he tricked the entire roster into thinking he wasn't just a run-of-the-mill, dime-a-dozen chump with less substance than that white shit that drips out of Centurion every time he hears himself speak. And now he's paying for it. Forever doomed to push that boulder up the mountain, he's never going to reach the top. It's gotta hurt to show up week-in and week-out, peddling his mediocre b******t in hopes that someone, somewhere is going to buy it again. You gotta question the mental stability of someone so painfully unaware of their shortcomings. He's a lemming heading straight for a cliff, you almost gotta respect him for his commitment to being completely unremarkable."

"Enough!" Kilpatrick shouts with a renewed vigor. "I'm tired of listening to this b******t!" He lunges at the man as the other officers join suit, managing to wrestle him to the ground. Kilpatrick places his knee on the back of the man's neck as he begins to struggle for air.

"Hey! I can't... It's all going dark..."

"Can't breathe?" The cocky Kilpatrick asks him.

"Nah n***a, I was just remembering how f*****g boring Chaos' partner Tula is. Almost put me to sleep." He exhales deeply, loosening the officer's grip with no problem.

"That b***h wants to play the unlikely hero like she's Rudy or something, but she forgot something important: To root for the underdog, you have to have a reason to. You think anybody is going to be sitting in front of their televisions and cheering for Tula? B****h got less charisma than Ben Stein, I'd rather watch a snail race than have to suffer through another one of those after-school special style promos of her. It's like she doesn't know the entire point of it is to draw attention to her match, not to give people a window they can pinpoint to take a s**t break. Calling her boring is the single most basic thing that I could do, but f**k, the shoe couldn't fit any better. Imagine being a former Army ranger and MMA fighter, two of the most exciting possible professions, only to emerge from the other side as so bland and uninteresting that a single sentence uttered would be an effective melatonin replacement."

The large man shrugs the police off and fakes a lunge toward the two younger ones, causing them to jump and collide heads, knocking each other out cold.

"Hey look, a couple of p*****s! Friends of Centurion's? Seen a lot of s**t in my day but never have I seen someone so filled with fear. Notice how he drafted Chaos simply because he had 'champion' on his resume? He knows he's not talented, he knows he doesn't want to work with him, but he knows he's entirely incapable of carrying a team to victory by himself. Main? Carver? Warstein? They can grab any group of bums through the fire and make it through to the other side. But Centurion? He sold his soul live on camera because he knew that any team he drafted wouldn't have the luxury of having an ace, someone that could carry the team when it needed. He knows damn well he never had a chance of winning in the first place, not against the top dogs in the company. He's saving face, trying not to be completely embarrassed once War Games rolls around. Themis and Carnes don't belong as captains, and to see Centurion as anything different than them is f*****g foolish. Centurion reminds me of pet piranha. Sure, the reputation sounds vicious but when you get the little f****r in the tank you realize that he's nothing more than a cowardly little scavenger, surviving off harmless feeder fish while coyly avoiding any real danger."

With that, the man turns to walk away. Kilpatrick attempts to chase him down but stumbles and slams his head on the concrete, knocking him out cold.

"Here, you can have the body back." The man says as he places the black card in his pocket, causing Doug to reappear instantly. He looks around the alley at the prone police offers and then directly into the camera.

"What happened?" Doug can be heard saying as the screen goes dark.

The officers involved in the beating were cleared of all allegations of excessive force.

The unidentified black male is wanted for three counts of aggravated assault on a police officer and is considered to be armed and dangerous.

“That’s fucked up.”
I check my phone and see that the time is getting late. I flip the TV off and stretch. “Time for bed I guess.”

Before long I’m in the bedroom, and lay down next to Atara.

“Why are you sweating?”
Atara groggily said, rolling onto her side.

“I was watching COPS.”
I jokingly said as I pulled the covers over myself.

“I can’t tell if you're serious or not.”

“Totally serious.”

“Just go sleep.”
An arm came swinging and hit me on the shoulder. I rubbed my arm and rolled over tucking my arm under my head.

“I was planning on it, why else would I be in here?”
I couldn’t see it, but the eye roll from Atara definitely happened. It was painfully obvious that I wasn’t falling asleep anytime soon, so I reached for the remote and just as quickly the TV was illuminating the room. ‘Ancient Greece and The Trials of Achilles’ is the show of choice for my slumber.

The sun crested over the horizon, as I slowly opened my eyes. A quick breath and I was surprised by an arm being flung over my chest. Atara nuzzled deep in the crevice and pulled herself in closer.

A quick grumble from her was the only response.


I gently remove her arm, and slide out of the bed. Wait a minute…


A coffee cup filled to the top appears on the table. Atara sits up in the bed as I hand it over to her. After one sip, she looks up towards me brushing her hair off of her face with her free hand.

“I understand that you can get Osira and I out of here, but what are you going to do about yourself?”
Atara sets the coffee cup to the side and stands up and stretches. “The orb is a one way trip, but doesn’t that just lock you in here?”

“Kinda. It’s complicated.”
We both sit down on the edge of the bed. “I’ll wake up at some point, and just be a walking husk. I’ll know everything that happened in here, but I’ll still be me out there. We both know what’s coming down the pipeline, and the road doesn’t end up anywhere nice for the both of us.”

“What are you saying?”
I grab her hand and smile.

“What I’m saying is we don’t need to act like we both don’t see the end, and what’s at the end for you is clearly not the same ending point that I see, I know what needs to happen here next.”
A quick breath as I let go of her hand, stand up, and begin walking towards the door.“We need to focus on getting you and your sister out of here. Come on we’ve got to find her.” Atara shakes her head as she stands up.

“No. I want to know what you’re talking about. What end?”
Atara grabs me by the shoulder and spins my body to face hers. “What end point?”

“Listen. I know what is going on in here, I have to live with it daily. You’ve been in here maybe a few hours. I’m not going to put myself out there time and time again just to be spurned.”
As I turn to walk away Atara grabs me by the shoulder once again. “I’m done talking about it, let’s go.” Atara doesn’t say a word. There’s no way of knowing what is going on in her head. She begrudgingly follows me through the corridors, not a word spoken between the two of us, just leaving me to my own thoughts.

And that was that. Everything led up to this point. Clearly the two of us are at a fork in the road. I mean why else would she not show up for War Games? Was losing to James that big of a deal? Tons of people have it’s not the end of the world. The only reason I can think of is me. I drove her away and there’s nothing I can do to bring her back. All I can do now is focus all of my attention on War Games and surviving.

Chaos is what this match is all about, and I thrive in it. No, not that Chaos. Actual chaos. You know the stuff that can actually do some harm to an individual. Bodies will be flying all over the place, surely the first person to fall will be Chris Chaos. The only person to somehow overhyped themselves. The person who thinks his demons are anything like what I’ve lived with. The main difference between my title run and basically everyone else’s… when I became champion people left out of fear. They aren’t coming back thinking well if he can do it, then why can’t I. No, they left knowing that they cannot do the things I do. They don’t have the stomach or the balls to do everything in their power to keep this title around their waist.

Centurion knows what it’s like to have pitiful opponents after weak challengers thrown his way, fuck man the toughest competition he’s faced was by Robbie, and he bounced on your team quicker than Vanessa did on the doughnuts in catering. This has been a tougher call to arms than I expected. I know that both Cent and I could throw each other under the bus, but we’ve held back to a point. I wasn’t joking, Centurion, the shot is yours. All you’ve got to do is take your shot.

Tula, I see nothing but big things in your future. I just wish you came here earlier in life. The career expectancy in this business isn’t very long. There’s Life in the NFL and then Professional Wrestler. You’ve capped yourself, you’ve set your own glass ceiling. Time is of the essence for you, and War Games is going to knock a few extra grains of sand from your timer.

So where does that leave my team? The group of ‘flunkies”? Well I said it on draft day. I don’t have a care in the world. Despite what everyone has said about those two, they showed up. There is no dissention between the three of us. We all have the same goal in mind. We all want to win. Regardless of the odds and obstacles thrown at us, we are ready. We aren’t bothered by the mountain in front of us. From where we are standing…. You’re all chasing us.

Atara and I walk out into a large courtyard. There are soldiers in their armor. Some are sharpening their blades, while others spar off with one another. We both scan the area looking for Osira. We spot her near the large gate. She is sitting all alone tapping her foot, and as we approach she stands up and greets her sister, while barely acknowledging myself.

“Finally. I see you found the leech.”
Osira said with a fair bit of venom as she glared through me.

“Yeah. We’ve got everything we need to go home. Show her Shawn.”
A chill goes down my spine as I pull out the yellow orb and show it to Osira. “All we need to do is use this and we are home free.” Atara forces a smile in my direction, as Osira just rolls her eyes.

“Well then leech, let’s get this over with. I don’t want this to turn into something we can’t undo.”

With a quick nod I hold out the orb. Osira grabs Atara’s hand. I place the orb into Atara’s hand, and just as she was about to grab my hand…




The gate and walls begin to crumble, as I shove Osira out of the way of a large chunk of wall falling towards her, I jump on top of Atara to shield her from the falling debris.

All three of us get to our feet, and just as we do Achilles and his men are flooding in, swinging on anything that moves. Osira and Achilles lock eyes, as he rushes towards her. He pulls his blade backwards and thrusts it towards her.

In the blink of an eye, Atara shoves her little sister out of the way, and takes the full brunt of the blade to her shoulder. She screams out in pain while Achilles slowly pulls the blade out.

“All that to protect her?”
Achilles walks towards Osira, as she begins to run. He laughs as he menacingly stalks her.

Osira ducks behind a wooden crate, only for Achilles to destroy it in a single swipe. She then slides behind a large boulder as he swings sparks fly off in all directions. I quickly slide next to Atara and place my hand over her wound keeping pressure on it. She looks up at me as I lean in and place my forehead on hers.

“Do you trust me?”
I asked in a low guttural growl.

She didn’t say anything.

“Please Atara...Do you trust me?”
Once again, this time with a bit more desperation in my voice.

Atara labored to say.


I handed her the orb, and closed her hands around it. I kissed her hands as we locked eyes. I know what she saw, I could feel it happen. The look on her face said everything. Before she vanished in a cloud of black smoke, the last thing she saw was, my eyes.

Glowing Red.

I slowly stood up from where Atara was and cracked my neck.

“It’s good to be home…”
Osira and Achilles are playing a game of cat and mouse. “ENOUGH!” I yelled across the courtyard as I slowly walked towards the both of them.


Achilles and everyone fighting freeze in place. Noticing something was amiss, Osira peers from around the boulder. She sees the same thing Atara saw. I slowly tilt my head towards Osira.


Suddenly all the soldiers begin to drop to the ground gasping for air and eventually succumbing, with Achilles being the last one right in front of Osira.

“We need to talk.”
I said in a cold raspy voice.

Osira doesn’t think twice and bolts towards the field on the other side of the gate. I shake my head in bemusement and slowly stalk her. We are in a desolate battlefield with bodies strewn about.


[Image: d0k7noP.png]
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