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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare RP Board
Capitalists, Coke Nails, and Pride Month (RP #1)
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NorthKoreanWarCriminal Offline
Active in XWF



XWF FanBase:
The IWC

(gets varying reactions in the arenas, but will be worshiped like a god and defended until the end by internet fans; literally has thousands of online dorks logging on to complain anytime they lose a match or don't get pushed right)


#1
06-09-2021, 12:50 PM

Previously on "North Korean War Criminal”...

Quote:“Okay. Let’s talk… Diversity.”

“Do we have to?”

Quote:“We’re spending more money than we have to do this show! The entire American economy is dependent on this show’s success. If we don’t sell it out, we will create a Global Depression!”

Quote:“DOGE TO THE MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON”

Quote:“It’s Asian American and Pacific Islanders Heritage month... and it’d be a slam dunk to have an Asian performer on the show.

Quote:“Great, sign one.”

Quote:“The only other Asian competitor of note was LYNCHED on live television. He died in the ring.”

Silence. An awkward cough.

“...Right?”

Quote:“...Part of a non-disclosure agreement set up by our legal tea-”

“HE’S STILL ALIVE?!?!”

Quote:“Come, Comrade Dennis Rodman.”

The luchador glances up…

And sees True Korean Wrestling’s owner, smiling down on him.

His face illuminated by a flash of lightning.

North Korean War Criminal.

“The show must go on.”

And now, the continuing story of "North Korean War Criminal..."

***

Quote:I’ve Gotta Be a Man, There’s No Place to Hiiiiiiiide...

You find small comforts in odd places when you look for them.

For instance, apparently, North Korean War Criminal had sprung for actual padding outside the ring this month, instead of laying out CostCo-brand black towels.

If he had done the former, as he had in the past, “El Wormo” would be dead. He was pretty sure doctors don’t recommend getting dropped directly on your head onto concrete, even if discount towels cushion your fall.

Of course, Dennis Keith Rodman had never seen a doctor in his life. I don’t mean, he’s never visited a doctor. I mean, his eyes have never gazed upon a doctor.

The closest he came to seeing one was at a soiree in the Hollywood Hills. Zac Braff was wearing green scrubs and a stethoscope from the set of his TV show. Dennis had, on the spot, pulled down his pants, revealing he’d attended the party going commando, and asked “Hey Doc, does this look infected to you?”

When Braff tried to explain he was not a real doctor, Rodman demanded Braff cup his balls “cuz that cancer shit sneaks up on ya”.

According to other attendees, his impromptu and non-consensual prostate exam had ruined the Kid from Young Sheldon’s birthday party.

“El Wormo” lays quasi-conscious outside the ring. He feels wetness running down his leg. Damn, did he just shit his pants?

He finds the strength to lean his head just backward enough to peer over his shoulder to check his blue tights.

Oh thank God. It’s just… *sniff*... Coca-Cola.

A child in the front row had been encouraged by his father to throw soda at the mostly-unconscious wrestler. 48 ounces of sugar water had exploded onto his ass.

His vision still blurry, he hears a faraway but energetic buzzing.

As his eyes focus, the buzzing becomes... words...

Jerry “The Hitman” Lawler: Folks, this has been a slobber knocker of a “Kim Jong Un Rules” Ladder match. If you’re just tuning in, this is True Korean Wrestling! Broadcasting on PM Radio, the radio frequency exclusively for narcoleptics! If you’re listening, WAKE-UP!

I am your play-by-play announcer Jerry “The Hitman” Lawler. No relation to Jerry “The King” Lawler, Bret “The Hitman” Hart, or... anyone at all. I was created in a petri dish in a government facility. My only purpose is to know what wrestling move just happened and say it out loud. Joining me tonight is color commentator, former Sacramento King Chris Webber.

CW: Hey, Sports Fans. Chris Webber here. I don’t know why I was asked to do this job, but when I found out Antoine Walker needed this gig to get out of bankruptcy, you know your boy had to take it, haha. I feed on the suffering of my former adversaries.

J“TH”L: Haha, right you are, Chris. You’re tuning in at the end of an incredible “Kim Jong Un Rules” triple threat ladder match.

CW And could you remind our viewers, Jerry, (Not me, because I’ve been paying attention), What makes a “Kim Jong Un Rules” triple threat ladder match different from a regular triple threat ladder match?

J“TH” L: Nothing, we just say “Kim Jong Un Rules” before every match stipulation, Chris. It’s North Korean Law.

CW: Ah, I see.

J“TH” L: Climbing the ladder now ‘The Capitalist Pig-Dog’, a half-pig, half-dog, all-profiteering brute.

Capitalist Pig-Dog was actually a very talented wrestler before he came to TKW. He had to be to run around the ring with a giant pig mask that went around his head and a full-body dog costume on his body. He also wears a tailcoat over the dog costume, a monocle, and has glued under his arms two large sacks with dollar signs on the outside.

True Korean Wrestling was not known for its subtle political commentary.

CW: He believes in the invisible hand of the free market. And he’s been using his very visible hoof hands to chop the shit out of his opponents.

J“TH”L: He’s had a hard-fought match but he’s pulling himself up by his bootstraps, climbing each rung of the ladder.

As CPD climbs slowly, another wrestler slides from outside into the ring.

J“TH”L: But what’s this?!? Climbing the other side of the ladder, it’s…

[Image: Steiner-doctorate.jpg]

J“TH”L: It’s Scott Rechsteiner, PhD! Scott Rechsteiner, PhD is going for the solution to this three-way equation... And in this match, you don’t have to show your work to get full credit!

CW: Y’know, I was talking to Scott Rechsteiner, PhD before the match and he said he had a 578% chance of winning this ladder match. I told Charles Barkley the odds and later he bet everything in his life savings.

J“TH”L: Really, he bet all his life savings on Scott Rechsteiner winning this match?

CW: No, he was making an unrelated bet on Tennis. He bet it all on the French Open surrendering and becoming the German Open.

J“TH”L: ...

CW: I’m just telling you what happened.

Scott Rechsteiner, PhD, climbs the ladder faster than the average man because he climbs the steps via the fibonacci sequence! He shoots up the ladder! 1st step, 1st step, 2nd step, 3rd step, 5th step, 8th step!

Before you know it, both Scott Rechsteiner, PhD and Capitalist Pig-Dog both reach the top of the ladder at the same instant.

Scott Rechsteiner, PhD wraps his hands around Capitalist Pig-Dog’s throat and starts throttling him! The ladder tilts left! It leans right!

Rechsteiner has to release his grip! He and CPD both hold on tight to the ladder...

Before it jiggles back to stable footing. There’s a moment of relief as both CPD and Rechsteiner look at each other, evaluating their position.

CW: Y’know, if Scott Rechsteiner fell off a ladder from that height, it could be devastating to him.

J“TH”L: Oh absolutely, a fall from that height on the ladder could end someone’s career in the ring.

CW: No, apparently, a number of Rechsteiner’s mathematical theories rely on gravity not being real. If he falls off that ladder, he might disprove his controversial hypotheses AND lose his research funding.

J“TH”L: What’s this?!? Capitalist Pig-Dog reaches into his waistcoat pocket…

CW: Oh, he might be going for a weapon!

J“TH”L: He is! The greatest weapon he has! His checkbook!

CPD begins negotiating, pointing his thumb up to discuss how much it would take to buy out Scott Rechsteiner, PhD from competing in this match.

CW: This is a bold strategy by CPD and it might just work. As we know, Scott Rechsteiner, PhD is an adjunct professor. Until he gets tenure, he is living out of his car.

J“TH”L: As Karl Marx himself once said, “Capital is dead labor which vampire-like, lives only by sucking living labor…”

CW: Hey, Test-Tube Commie, could you translate to English?

J“TH”L: Capitalist Pig-Dog knows he can’t win this match on his own effort and is using his superior cash stores to buy his way to victory.

CW: And then translate that to AMERICAN English?

J“TH”L: Capitalist Pig-Dog is about to win this match fair and square.

Scott Rechsteiner, PhD, strokes his chin. He sure could use a cash influx to fund his controversial research on all the secret numbers between 0 and 1 the government doesn’t want you to know about.

“El Wormo” finally musters the strength to roll back into the ring. He takes a deep breath, gathering his strength, before working his way to his knees...

Finally, Scott Rechsteiner, PhD, nods in agreement. CPD sets his checkbook down on the top of the ladder and begins writing out a check…

J“TH”L: What’s this!?! The third competitor, “El Wormo” is back in the ring! We all thought he was done after receiving a piledriver outside from The Capitalist Pig-Dog’s hired guns!


CW: Speak for yourself, Replicant. Dennis… Er, “El Wormo”... he’s headbutted the San Antonio Spurs Spurs Coyote mascot. He punted a cameraman in the dick so hard, he knocked him unconscious. He broke his dick against Madonna’s iron vagina three different times. Dropping Dennis Rodman on his head isn’t going to hurt anything but the ground he lands on.


J“TH”L: But Rechsteiner and CPD have already reached an arrangement. “El Wormo”’s the only competitor not even close to the top of the ladder.

CPD finishes scribbling out the amount, the Memo line on every one his checks already pre-filled out to “Bribe”...

“El Wormo” leaps onto the second rope!

CPD tears the check out of the book and hands i-

THE BOX OUT! “El Wormo” bounces off the ropes and leaps up onto the side of the ladder, beside his two opponents, slamming his backside into the metal! He extends his ass out, backing into the ladder! The entire ladder sways over to the right, CPD and Rechsteiner leaning to try and keep it standing!



It tilts..

IT FALLS!

The Capitalist Pig-Dog falls ribs first onto the middle ropes and flops outside the ring!

Scott Rechsteiner hangs in the air a moment, as if he could will himself out of gravity’s hold, before landing square on his right shoulder, right onto the turnbuckle and collapsing onto the edge of the ring… THAT’S THE HARDEST PART OF THE RING!

But, where is “El Wormo”?

J“TH”L: HE’S LATCHED HIMSELF TO THE BRIEFCASE AT THE TOP OF LADDER!

CW: The greatest rebounder in the history of the NBA has latched onto the prize with all his strength!

J“TH”L: He’s got a grip on the briefcase, he’s got to unlatch it. It’s going to be a challenge.

CW: Like Hell it will! “El Wormo” has the grip strength of a Serbian gigolo and the upper body strength of an Armenian gigolo. YANK IT DOWN, DENNIS!

“El Wormo”’s long, hot pink press-on nails start to chip against the sides of the briefcase… The luchador tries to yank himself to a better hand hold…

SLIP! A full two inches! “El Wormo” is now desperately hanging by the corner of the briefcase!

J“TH”L: Oh God, I can’t look…

CW: C’MON DENNIS!

“El Wormo” hangs helplessly. His pinky nail, or “coke nail” (for how he liked to pop the tabs off Coke cans with it), clings inside of the corner plate of the briefcase.

Suddenly, “El Wormo” swings his legs up… AND HANGS UPSIDE DOWN. “El Wormo” hangs like a spider monkey with the toe of his boots sunk into the latch holding the case in the air!

“El Wormo” kicks off a boot and launches it into the third row!

J“TH”L: My God, I’ve never seen anything like this!

CW: I have. Game 3 of the 1989 NBA Finals. “El Wormo” crawled around the hoop like an arachnid. He pulled down 19 rebounds and gave Magic Johnson spider-meningitis.

J“TH”L: ...Do you mean spinal meningitis?

CW: No, I don’t. Never correct me. You haven’t seen what I’ve seen.

In the fourteen seconds this back and forth takes, Rodman’s pinky toe nail, or “coke toe nail” (for how he’d used it to sample cocaine), successfully undoes the latch!

Dennis and the briefcase drop straight down like a rock! Dennis lands square on his skull.

WINNER “EL WORMO”


J“TH”L: “El Wormo” wins!

CW: And the ring just connected with the hardest part of Dennis Rodman! RODMAN, BE MERCIFUL! THAT RING HAS A FAMILY!

“El Wormo” scrambles to his knees with the briefcase in his arms, his sweaty, shaking palms squeezing against the clasp of the suitcase.

J“TH”L: And to the victor go the spoils! What could be in the mystery briefcase?!?

CLICK! The suitcase opens! “El Wormo”’s grinning face turns shocked and his hand reaches into the open chest…

J“TH”L: What could it be? “El Wormo” just risked his health, his limbs, his very life to be the proud holder of…

“El Wormo” sticks a three inch by five inch card into the air, in befuddlement.

CW: … Is that a $25 gift card to Red Lobster?

***
“And that concludes my presentation on why we should sell the company’s DOGE supply, convert it to $CUMROCKET and $CUM ONTO THE MOON.”

There is a round of applause from the phones in the conference room.

Thérèse bites her lip. Trying her best to appear her default irritated instead of terrified. This was the board meeting immediately following the Leap of Faith on the Moon show.

Thankfully, it seems saner heads prevailed and the broadcast only APPEARED to take place on the moon. (Read the ending for yourself, true believers!) Which did not stop people from calling their local fire department to report that the moon was on fire.

There’s now a fringe conspiracy theory group who believe the sun did engulf the moon in a solar flare and that the moon we see now is actually a 5G satellite placed there by Bill Gates to find single women in his area.

Thérèse personally shared that article 5000 times so her role in last week’s meeting might be forgotten. She also tricked Elon Musk into tweeting about a cryptocurrency called CUMROCKET twice.

She can’t believe only the second one had any effect on the board’s members.

She prays to whatever higher power is out there listening: Please, oh please let this be a distraction.

“Thank you… phone #9… for the… forward-thinking proposition. It shall be added to the docket of items we shall vote on as a board… offline.”

“Any further items of… new business?”


A number of clicks and whistles are heard in the air.

“Any items not related to the matter of… cumrocket?”

Suddenly, silence.

“If no one objects, I will file phones #2 through 27 as supporting members of phone #9’s proposition.”

There are grumbles of irritation, followed quickly by murmurs of passive acquiescence.

“Fine. That resolves all new business.”

Thérèse immediately goes to start wrapping cords to disconnect the phone line.

“THÉRÈSE.”

Thérèse jumps back against the wall. The man who calls on phone #1 has never lifted his voice an octave above an inside voice.

“I humbly apologize. I had almost forgotten to go over old business.”

“Do we have a status report on your… Diversity Initiative?”


Thérèse struggles to swallow the fear back into the pit of her stomach. After a momentary gagging session, she manages to regain her composure.

“Yes sir.”

She spreads out a series of graphs onto the conference table. Arrows are pointing up. Plusses are present across a number of financial statements.

“As you can see, after… um… North Korean War Criminal’s surprise appearance, there were a number of positively glowing media reviews from countries we’d previously had minimal exposure within. The North Korean party-controlled media broadcast had viewership of 20 million, which was an achievement in their TV viewership, 2nd only to the Series Finale of North Korean Frasier.”

“There was some complaint initially in American news media on the company kowtowing to a known War Criminal, but it seems to be quiet since on the American broadcast, it’s pretty obvious he’s a… well, a clown.”


“Well, it sounds like your idea was a success on all fronts, Thérèse. Very impressive.”

Silence.

“Very. Impressive.”

There is a begrudging applause from the other phones in the room.

Thérèse takes a deep breath. She closes her eyes and imagines a world where this was all there were to say...

“And I suppose that item can be moved to the Done column, since he was signed for a one-day contract. Moving on to oth-”

“Um.. sir.”

There’s a grave silence in the air.

“Thérèse, is there other business to discuss in regards to your… initiative?”

Thérèse digs her nails into her arm, as if drawing attention back to herself is as painful as self-immolation.

“It’s… Um… There was a paperwork… snafu.”

Silence.

“So, somehow, NKWC ended up booked in a fatal fourway match at Leap of Faith in the opening match. I believe the mentality was to give him as little airtime as possible?”

Silence.

“Right. Well, a condition of that match was… the winner is guaranteed a future title shot of his choice. And… he won. So… he is under contract until that match takes place.”

Silence.

“Sir, if you’d like, we can explore voiding his contract. He might take a settlement offer.”

“Let’s…”

...

There’s a long pause. For a moment, it feels like oxygen has been shut off in the room. Not a decibel of sound dares to be heard until this thought is complete.

“Let us have a… one-on-one with Mr. ...NKWC. From there, maybe we can evaluate his… future with the organization.”

Thérèse exhales. She relaxes her fist and her nails exit her arm. She isn’t out of the woods but she isn’t dead. Or worse, fired.

“This brings us to the next phase of Thérèse’s Diversity Initiative.”

“Right. Thank you, sir. It is June. Which is Pride Month.”

“Hey, I thought last meeting we said we were against Pride?”

“Not… not that kind of pride. Gay Pride.”

“...Question withdrawn.”

[Image: q7qlN9u.png]

This message is brought to you by XWF: Buy our merchandise, gays!

[Image: oZtyqya.jpg]
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