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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » March Madness 2021 PPV Board
La Fin
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Lacklan Offline
World's best at making murderhobos cry



XWF FanBase:
The 'cool' kliq fans

(booed by casual fans; opportunistic; often plays dirty while setting the trends)


#1
03-19-2021, 11:51 AM


...it’ll be okay…

The little girl breathes deeply and clutches onto the large hand holding hers.

...he can’t get you…

She clutches harder.

...he’s not a mon-

“RAAAAARRRR!”

“EEEEEEEEEEK!”

The little girl screams with the keen of a banshee, no doubt causing pain in the ears of all around, but that pain is lost in the gasp of fright given by the crowd. All around her, the people cower in fright from the monster in the ring, each aware that the metal barricade separating the crowd from the wrestlers offered little in the way of protection.

“It’s okay, Fangs.”

The little girl, with a pale face and odd red eyes, looks up at the fat man sitting to her right. With disheveled hair and a scruffy face, the man smiles with a shine in his eyes.

“First of all, Godfather, it may be okay for YOU, but he also didn’t promise to eat YOU for lunch.”

The little girl was aware that her voice changed accents several times while she spoke, and it caused her to grimace. Everyone at home spoke with the same accent, except for Father, of course, and it was difficult at times to push away her nurture and focus fully on the nature. She cried for days when she finally realized that she would never be able to meet Mommy, and so she would honor her however she could, and that meant more than just wearing her old robes. They were far too big for her, obviously, and she was wearing them out by walking on them.

”And second-”

The little girl shrieks as the monster in the ring again roars, and this time people notice the terror in her voice and on her face. And she notes that, judging by the second-looks and sideways glances they began to give her, they noticed her, too. Everyone did, eventually. An albino so white that she seemed a beacon of light in the dark arena, Sarah Selena Lacklan, the 8-year-old daughter of one-half of tonight’s Main Event, always drew second looks and sideways glances.

With a sigh, Sarah turns her head away from her portly guardian and takes in the monster fully. Standing over six feet and well above four hundred pounds, the Strangler had been terrorizing all of Maine for decades, particularly in Aroostook. Daddy didn’t speak well of Aroostook (“Peasants known only for potatoes, do not pay them much mind, Daughter.”), but their fear of the Strangler was both potent and legitimate.

As was hers.

The massive man roars again, and the small girl quivers in her seat.

...he’s not a monster...he’s a man...he’s not a monster...he’s a man...he’s-

Over and again, the mantra plays in her mind on repeat in it’s attempt to steel her nerves. But the man in the ring IS a monster, one who was known for stomping and tearing and ripping and biting and strangling and-



As the houselights turn dark and the purple spotlight shines down, as the doleful sounds of the Moonlight Sonata fill the arena, the little girl finds strength. Massive and wide in his black robe, the Savior had traveled the world to spread the Word of God as His Voice, and today he was intent on crushing an insect. In the ring, he pulls back his hood to reveal a white mask covering his face and bald head of grotesque purple and red scars, evidence of his dangerous path. He pulls his head back, letting loose a mouthful of purple mist into the air, and causing the crowd to find their voice in “ooohs” and “ahhhs.”

Just before the matches began that night, her father had reminded her:

“Remember, Daughter: These men, these fools, are but children. WE are the monsters. WE are the Light. Let us burn them in it.”

Let them burn, indeed.








“...standing at 5 feet and 2 inches-”

“BAY BAY!”

Lips painted a deep red rise into a smirk, the mark of a warrior’s paint.

“-and with 24-inch thighs thick enough to crush a man’s soul-”

She flexes her quads and hams underneath her robe, the legs of a warrior built across nearly ten years of lifting weights, and the smirk grows.

“-she has an overall XWF record of 31 wins, 6 loses, and 2 draws-”

Memories of her debut two years ago flash through her mind, with a tournament victory wherein she taught Dolly Waters an important lesson.

“-and an Anarchy record of 15 wins, 3 loses, and 2 draws-”

Her lips open and the smirk becomes a small smile, her bright white teeth flashing in the lights of Allegiant Stadium. She was successful wherever she went, but she was dominant in this venue.

“-she is the Firestarter-”

Gifted by her father.

“-the Blood Princess-”

Gifted by the Path of the Light flock.

“-the Commissioner of Anarchy-”

She had been planning on transitioning into an administrative role from the beginning of her career, and this was the first step.

“-SaaaaRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-”

She had been very specific in her instructions to Tiggles about how to say her name properly for introductions.

“-LAAAAAACK-”

She had made sure that it was pronounces “Lack” and not “Loch” like some Plebians still did, of course.

“-LAAAAAAAN!”

She steps raises her chin slightly, letting the mixed reaction from the fans wash over her. Resplendent in a shimmering robe of black and red feathers, she was the epitome of wrestling royalty. And as she looks across the ring at the man in front of her, no longer the Boogeyman of her childhood, and just another old man clinging to any inch of relevance in the sport she reigned over, she can do nothing but allow her small smile to widen to it’s full “billion dollar” width. She had been having fun easing herself back into competition from her latest injury, one in which she, much to the surprise of both her mate and her doctor, actually took the medical advice and took time off for, but it was time to get back to work.

It was time to end this game.

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"Loverboy" Vinnie Lane (03-19-2021), Andre Dixon (03-19-2021), Miss Fury (03-19-2021), NA (03-19-2021), R.L. Edgar (03-19-2021), Theo Pryce (03-19-2021)




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