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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Anarchy Boards » Anarchy RP Board
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Hanging Out
Author Message
Prof. Bobby Bourbon Offline
Mad Scientist



XWF FanBase:
The 'cool' kliq fans

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


#1
07-07-2021, 02:26 PM



Bobby and TK as still just…

HANGING OUT

They’re eating popcorn watching some BBC America, in their all-inclusive BOB trailer. Still kicked back in their overly expensive snakeskin leather reclining chairs. TK has had a few beers at this point looks relaxed.

This show sucks. BBC America never lets me down like this!

Yeah too fucking cut and goddamn dry for me. What’s the name of the show?

The Syndicate.

TK smirks but Bobby doesn’t notice because he’s staring at the TV, even though the show sucks. Bobby’s popcorn bowl is almost empty and TK hands him his.

It’s like a train wreck.

Yeah, a real nasty one where body parts are scattered all over the place. I don’t want to see it but I can’t look away either.

It’s a damn shame.

Jimmy barges in again.

Guys! What are you still watching the tv?

Jimmy shut the fuck up! We’re watching some really bad red coat theater on the fucking teli.

TK tried to sound British but came off more douchebag than normal. Jimmy looks super annoyed.

You really have to talk about your match it’s important! Sure! You’re getting paid no matter what but you really can’t lose to these calibers of wrestlers, guys! The other teams in the division would eat you alive if you do!

TK looks over at Bobby. Bobby shakes his head agreeing with Jimmy, TK rolls his eyes.

Fine… We should have just shown up for our checks, and not cared, but whatever.

TK clears his throat but not getting out of his fully reclined chair.

Them No Good Bastards will walk through the valley or any goddamn dark alley. Does the Syndicate think they’re going to be the ones that are going to make us, and BOB, draw out last breathe? Well, mother fuckers I’d say you’d have to lay down your goddamn best. Cause we’ve run against hungry packs of wolves and bested them. If you think we’re fading or whatever bullshit you might try to spit out your fucking mouths. Just remember we’re still hungry enough to eat both teams alive. We don’t break fucking formation. We live and die being the best tag team champions of all time. We’re sending both these shit teams to the back of the line, fucking dehumanized! We found our goddamn divinity through fucking fire. We pushed through it all and keep standing fucking tall. All so Them No Good Bastards’ goddamn legacy can never die. We’re unstoppable. We’re here for the fucking long run. The Syndicate will fade away before we’re done. They certainly fucking come in undefeated with no scars? But now they’re going up against some Bastards to earn some. Mark my words, mother fuckers, before us they never knew loss, now it’s time we nail them to the goddamn cross. The Thugs know they’re in the fucking trenches with cutthroats. The only problem is they can’t do shit about it and either can the Syndicate. Both teams are shared on the same goddamn page of how our destiny unfolds. Chairs, tables, glass, fucking thumb tacks, all legal. How-fucking-ever, it’ll only take one Rainbow Laser Death Sequence to put these shit mascots down for the one, two, three. One last thing before Bobby spits hot fire, melting both these fucking shit-lotion-wearing teams, I need a favor from the both of them. The Thugs and The Syndicate, That’s right! I need you guys to pull out your XWF textbooks and rip them the fuck up. Then go out and buy your new bWo textbooks, because nothing in this life is free. Then ‘Ol Thunder Knuckles is going to need you to pay attention, class is now in fucking session.

Bobby without standing begins heating up bWo Anarchy with his furnace of a mouth.

Jesus, narrator, you’re making it sound like I’m going to eat Anarchy out.

Stop breaking the fourth wall.

I can’t! I’ve traveled time and space with such frequency that reality and fantasy have started to bleed into one another. Anyhow, bWo Anarchy. We got access to all the weapons of destruction we’ll need. Like TK said, it’s not the chairs. It’s not the tables. It’s not the baseball bat that TK kissed Robert Main upside the dome with. It’s our fucking bodies, built for war, and our minds, honed for it. The countdown is in place, the whole Universe can hear it, a terrible fate is awaiting someone in that ring in the form of a Rainbow Laser Death Sequence. It could be the Syndicate, a pairing so boring and off the radar they might as well be a rest area off the freeway. It’s not anybody’s real destination to go to them and they reek. Then it could be the THUGS, who by all means, should have been facing us at Warfare instead of the weak ass EXP bullshit they put in front of us, but ultimately it’s the same old story there too; we don’t lose our Tag Team Championships. Oh, they're not even being defended. On bWo Anarchy. Because we totally would have defended them on a bWo show, only neither of these teams have the fucking balls to challenge us for them.

Once Bobby is done shredding the competition like a verbal assassin. TK looks over at Jimmy.

Are you happy now? We don’t have the time to keep pissing around with these dog shit tag teams. Next time you book us for one of these things Jimmy I swear to god it better not be when we’re defending these beautiful gold belts.


TK reaches down beside his chair, as does Bobby, without looking or needing to be prompted, they clink their titles together. Jimmy shakes his head yes. Todd perfectly executes his duties and the scene fades to black.

[Image: DtUCPfZ.png]
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[-] The following 6 users Like Prof. Bobby Bourbon's post:
"Loverboy" Vinnie Lane (07-07-2021), Atara Raven (07-07-2021), Doctor Louis D'Ville (07-07-2021), Marf (07-07-2021), Theo Pryce (07-07-2021), Thunder Knuckles™ (07-07-2021)




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