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The PokeBob Saga: Pewter (Episodes 1-3)
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 ALIAS  Offline
D'Ville's Bane
TITLE - Universal Champion

XWF FanBase:

(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)

Post: #1
08-14-2021 10:41 PM


1A: Prologue

Enclosed and protected. Throbbing celestial meninges guard against the world without. That swirling splendour of clouds, coloured in everything. The war rages outside, but there are others in the fight.


And thus I take a breath, content that the line will hold for just a little longer. As I step forward into the void.

Five altars of stone stand above the aether.

The map.
The dagger.
The rope.
The stone.
The universe.

I place the Universal Championship on the final altar once more…

My eyes flit up and down expectantly, but nothing happens. No shining light, no chiming bells, no ascension. Nothing.


1B: Excuse You

“Where were you?” asks little Frankie Duke. Tears well in his eyes as his arm raises, strained from the weight he carries. In his hand, the hair of his new father intertwines around his fingers.

It’s Thad’s head.

Blood drips from its severed neck.

“I didn’t do that.”


“In this life, people are always going to make excuses. I heard it from everyone in the lead up to War Games.

‘You can’t trust Corey Smith. He’s going to cash in on you.’

So many people said it, and now…? Do you think anybody is going to step forward, hand on their heart, and admit they were wrong? Nope! On to the next bullshit; refusing to see the truth that sits in front of them. You see, there are very few certainties in this life: Birth, taxes, and me surviving.

What? Did you think I was going to say ‘death’?

Maybe for the rest of you.

I survive.

At War Games, I survived.

Like I always do.

Do you fuckers think that this is by chance? That it’s all just a happy accident? How many times do you need to be told? How many times do you need to be shown? Every single time I step into that ring, I’m doing so with my life on the fucking line, and THAT is why there nobody has been able to stop me. After War Games, that includes almost every single one of you. Even Lycana. Back at Leap of Faith, she and Marf tried to do their worst to me and yet I’m still standing here, flipping you all off, an telling each and every one of you to go fuck yourselves in your fat fucking asses! Bruise me, batter me, burn me… you can’t fucking break me. War was a ‘game’ to the rest of you. For me it’s my day-to-day life.

And it’s not a coincidence who has come to my side in my struggle. Those people are the ones who see me for what I am. Not whatever it was that Louis tried to drill into Thad’s head in the build up to yet another failure of his to try and use Thad as a puppet.

Talk about your fucking lobotomies…

Nor am I the gimmick that Chris Chaos got so focused on. Quite simply, I am not like the Chris Pages of the world. I’m not here for glory or championships. I don’t care about money and accomplishments. I’m here to fight for my future. And I’m not finished yet.

So what’s going to be the argument now? Corey is just trying to lull me into a false sense of security? Maybe. That’s his choice. But he knows how fucking determined I am to reach my goal, and he knows exactly what will be coming if that’s the direction he wants to go. And that… that makes this a two-way street when it comes to our trust. He trusts that I can follow through. And I trust that if he makes that decision, he’s thought about the consequences. Unlike Thad. He’s so intent on keeping his tunnel vision in full effect, that he refuses to look in the mirror and see the piece of shit on his shoulder whispering sweet nothings into his ear. You made that decision, Thad. You pulled back from Corey. Blame it on me as much as you want, but…

I didn’t do that.

You did.

I know you feel it, buddy. That the crowd is starting to turn on you. I’m sure you whisper it to Adi while you humble-brag about the megayacht you own - how’s that 24/7 world leader gig going for ya? You fucking muppet. Maybe if you stopped using your Twitter platform to compare fucking boat sizes and actually gave a shit about your friends instead of keeping letches like Louis and Paul fucking Heyman on as confidants, then you wouldn’t need to use me as a fucking excuse.

Which makes a tremendous segue to you, Chris.

Gotta say, I was expecting more from you in terms of announcing your big rematch. You might be getting a bit senile in your old age, bud. You missed a prime opportunity to make everything about you! You know, like you tried to do at War Games by taking out Robert Main. And like you brag about every time you have those deep and meaningful conversations with Jess about your super-secret evil plans. A real swing and a miss on that front, hombre. But hey, if you’re going to leave that on the table, allow me to slide on in and pick up the pieces. See, I don’t exactly care about being the focal point of each show, but I think even my biggest detractors would admit that I sure as shit know how to make an entrance. And I’m on the road again, pal! I left Steubenville a few hours ago, and am well and truly on my way to Moline, Illinois!

Hmm… I wonder what’s coming up there that could be of interest?


Now that’s an ego, amirite? Hey, Chris, which one am I supposed to be? Texas or California? And are you really just gonna leave Alaska sitting there like it isn’t bigger than either of the others? Jesus, next thing you’ll be telling me is that there are five faces on Mount Rushmore instead of four. But you’re not that dumb… are you? Shit. You actually might be. I mean… you are dumb enough to take some time out of your little propaganda pieces against Betsy to call Corey and I egomaniacs, in the same fucking breath that you say you’re hearing a lot of talk about the return of The Beast. Pot, meet kettle.

But Jesus circle-jerking Christ, what the fuck is in the water over there at B.O.B. HQ?! This ego-trip is the same fucking playbook that Bobby Boubon used in the lead up to the event, claiming how everyone was complaining that Fury managed to assemble a B.O.B. team. It didn’t fucking happen! Nobody was complaining then and nobody is talking about The Beast now! YOU GUYS ARE MAKING THIS SHIT UP!

Here’s a challenge for you, Chris. I want to go out there and find THREE other XWF roster members who were talking about The Beast showing up between the end of War Games and right now as you hear this. Three! That’s all! You can even include your own fucking teammates! If you can find just three other people, I will literally go buy a hat to eat.

Because you can’t fucking do it.

As the Universal Champion, I feel I can speak on behalf of damn near the entire XWF roster when I say that we don’t fucking care about The Beast. Hell, the whole #FUCKBOB deal that some people have jumped on… you know that’s not an ‘oh I’m so mad at them’ kind of #FUCKBOB, right? It’s a ‘those guys are idiots and I feel dumber every time they open their mouths’ kind of #FUCKBOB. I don’t even need to jump in on that hashtag, and I can fucking tell you that.

This whole Beast thing? All you’ve done is given Robert Main another excuse. Like he needs any more, right? Imagine having the deck stacked against you, doing your best (LOL!) to fight out from underneath ridiculous odds, and then coming up short. What a fucking excuse! Glad you never did anything like that, Chris. It’d be super embarrassing if…

Oh who am I kidding? It’s literally the first thing you fucking did when you spoke about what went down at Leap of Faith! You made fun of Robert Main for losing to you when the numbers were in your favour, then you go about and whine about being attacked by six - you told us to count them: six! - people before I cashed in. But that’s not an excuse, is it? Nah, you’ll pass it off as just stating facts, and in a way, you’re right. Except when you go ahead and then tell me that if you had a briefcase you’d have done it straight up, so as to avoid giving any… excuses. Oops… I guess there goes that defence for you.

Don’t even get me fucking started on your defences!

The thing is Chris, you spent the weeks leading up to Leap of Faith talking about how I might cash in on you. You fucking knew it could happen. You called it!

And then it still happened.

The great mastermind Chris Page couldn’t figure out how to work his way around that. That doesn’t make you look ‘strong in defeat’ or whatever cliché you want to rest upon.

Let’s face it, your life is fucking full of them.

It makes you look like an idiot for not having contingency plans, despite all your resources - and I use that term loosely to describe the fucking stooges you’re surrounded by.

It doesn’t make you such an amazing Universal Champion that only a briefcase could take it from you. It makes you, at best, on the same level as Shawn Warstein. Now, I don’t really know that guy, but I do know that you think he’s beneath you. We’re back at the pot and kettle here, bud.

Should we take a look at why you weren’t able to come up with a plan to stop a guy who WAS FUCKING DEAD LIKE THIRTY MINUTES EARLIER from taking the championship from you?

Are we just gonna gloss over that part?

Maybe it has something do with the fact that this whole strategic genius schtick you’re running with being a fucking lie. Shit, if I ask your own team, Thunder Knuckles said that you joined them, not whatever you were trying to sell in that eleventy-thousand part origin story. Could it be that the head doesn’t know what cock the right-hand is jerking off? Or could it be that the entirety of B.O.B. is just a headless fucking joke? Probably the latter. After all, if they were such a well-oiled machine, they would’ve actually won at War Games, right? And if they were such a well-oiled machine, Oswald would’ve been out there to help you that night. Herschel Kiss too. The Themis Sisters. Any of the other faceless names (as opposed to nameless faces who are pretty rad if you ask me!) on the bWo roster.


You fell.

To me.

I got all the way to you, riding on just ‘one good win’. Not sure you want to go there though, bud. Especially after War Games.

But hey, you want a seat at Jesus’s table? Great! I’ll help you get there quicker. Because he’s not holding a place for me. I’m not his type.

I eat when I want to eat.

And after tearing through damn near the entire fucking roster in those cages… I’m still fucking hungry. You called Betsy the appetiser before me. Bitch, you’re my fucking appetiser before Relentless.

Because, Chris… you’re not the big bad that you think you are. This… you and me? It’s nothing more than childs’ play. A fucking kiddie game…”

Looking down, a dim orange hue illuminates the small hotel room. The speaker sits, cross-legged on a mat of rainbows. He shakes a rattle in his hand.

A baby laughs.

“And I’m getting real good at playing with kids. So you want to play kiddie games, I’ll play kiddie games. I’ve got a great game ready to press START on, just for you. Here, let me show you…”

Episode 1 - I Choose You!

I awake in a bed pushed right into the corner of the room. Yet… I’m standing, and I have a red hat upon my head. Around me, four pixelated walls. There’s a potted plant in one corner, a computer on a desk in the opposite, and on the far side of the room, past the SNES that dominates the middle of the room, a small staircase leading down.

“Is that…” I squint further. “Is that Void of the Mind?”

I blink reality back.

I said I blink reality back.


Nothing happens.


With a heavy sigh I step out of the bed. As in, I literally walk left and somehow transition from being in the sheets to standing on the ground. Chewing on my bottom lip, I think upon my next step.

Computer! Yes! Computer!

I rush to it. It loads, no username or password needed.

And no name.


Withdraw item?


Rare candy. Ninety-nine of them.


I fucking get it now.

Do you?

When it comes to this shit… I’m playing with fucking cheat codes.

I take them all. Not that I’ll need them.

Not for you.

Closing out of the menu, I head down stairs to a room with a television - turned off - but no chairs. Two bookshelves stand next to it, and in the centre of the room, a table. A table but no…

“Mom?” I ask instinctively. But there is no answer. There is no mother. There never is. The never was...



Without thinking further on it, I exit the building.

A force takes over me, willing me to the south-east to the largest of only the three buildings in the town. Wait… where do these other people roaming about live?

No matter, I step inside what appears to be a laboratory. In the distance, I hear a conversation echoing off equipment, and that same force takes over me once more and urges me down the open space to an office that sits behind a stack of shelves.

“Ah, you’re here!” greets a man with long, matted, blonde hair that rests on the collar of a white lab-coat that covers a disgustingly shirtless body.

“Yeah, I am…” I flick my eyes from side to side, studying the environment. Another boy/man stands facing the… professor? His back turned to me.

“Right! My name is Professor Lane, but most people call me Professor Wood! I think you can guess why. This is my grandson.” He gesticulates wildly to the boy/man, who doesn’t seem to react to his grandfather’s inappropriate comments at all. “He’s been your rival since you were a baby.”

“He has?” I glance at him, confused. “I feel like I would have known if that were the case…”

“Erm, what his name again?” He looks to me for an answer. Why the fuck is he looking at me?

“Corey,” the boy/man says, turning towards me to reveal his face. I know that face!

“That’s right! I remember now! His name is Corey!” This all sounds very robotic. “Your very own legend is about to unfold! A world full of dreams and adventures awaits!”

“Yeah…” I shrug. “I kind of already have all that.”


“Screw it,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Let’s play your damn kiddie game.”

“I’ll choose first,” Corey says as he steps to a table to our side. He studies three magical balls that rest upon it. After much investigation, he makes his choice, and reaches for a ball. “Squirtle.”

[Image: CHI86rc.png]

“The water Pokémon, Squirtle!” Professor Wood beams. “Excellent choice.”

“I’m going to name him Iggy,” Corey says.

“Fucking hell, you’re actually giving them a fucking nickname?” Wood mutters under his breath. Corey either ignores it or doesn’t hear it. I don’t give a shit either way as I step up to the table.

I take half the time to make my decision as Corey.

“The fire Pokémon, Charmander!” the professor exclaims.

[Image: wsb73yl.png]

Of course. Who the fuck chooses Bulbasaur?

“Are you sure?” his voice drops in concern. I don’t say anything in response. I simply nod. I’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge.

“Interesting...” Corey muses. “Let’s check out our Pokémon! Come on, I’ll take you on!”

Somehow, I know I don’t have a choice.

It has to happen… right?


Corey chooses Squirtle.

[Image: CHI86rc.png]

Charmander is already out.

[Image: wsb73yl.png]

“Squirtle! Use Tail Whip!” Corey shouts. Of course he tries to lower my defences.

Wait… didn’t we solve this at the campsite?


One night the mug shattered.


“Charmander! Use Scratch!” This is what I do. I attack.




“ENOUGH!” Professor Wood yells. “Not here! Not now!”

Corey and I stop in our tracks and spin towards the professor. His made-up face frowns at us through painted lips. And then… he smiles. It’s a delicious, devilish smile.

“Not for free, anyway.” Sounds like something a Duke would say.

“Fine,” Corey acquiesces. “I guess I’ll smell ya later, then!”

With that, he storms out of the lab.

And with a woe-is-me grimace towards the Professor, I also take my leave.

Episode 2 - Veridian

The forest is cold and overgrown. The sun struggles to penetrate its canopy. No matter. Haven’t you fucking heard by now?

The sun is old news.

Another would be lost. They might need a map. Me? I already have one.

Ever forward.

So I trudge through waist-high grass, skipping past conifer corners and meeting eyes with the men with nets. They try to catch me like a firefly, but to them I’m fucking intangible.

The fire that snuffed the flames.
He who soars beyond.



Although they try, the gnats don’t bite me. They shoot their strings to tie me up, but I scratch and I claw and I fight my way out.

I am free.

When that doesn’t work, they turn their stingers to me. They do their best to dig deep within my skin, but their poison burns on contact.

I am unsullied.

So I walk through the maze, I keep going.

Birds swoop.

Of a feather, they flock together.

Charmander - not in a ball, but in a stroller - uses ember.

Ash they become.

A phoenix is a beginning.

A fire…

The end.

The rats are squashed. The birds are burned. The bugs are fucking decimated.

I prevail.

I prevail.

I prevail.

I emerge into the city.

Episode 3 - Boulder

Snow-covered peaks loom around me. Looking upon them is both daunting and awe-inspiring for someone like me: born to nothing; without dreams. But today, as I step into the orange glow cast by the setting sun skimming off the milky white ranges, a confidence subsumes me.

‘My fire could melt it,’ I tell myself.

After all, I’ve climbed higher.

And I will again.

Mercurial shadows rollick upon the green grass framing the warm stone buildings. The air smells of tilled earth and burnt cinder. Explosive punches into the sides of mountains encircle whatever canyon or crater or hole-in-the-fucking ground this is that man has converted.

Exploring the town, I pass by a couple of small houses, but don’t see their occupants. The path brings me to a store, and out of curiosity more than anything else, I peek in a window. Rows and rows of items stretch down aisles that open up to where the shopkeeper stands behind a counter. I have no interest in this material shit. Different ways to catch and contain? Hard pass. I’ll stick to the sure fucking thing.

Cheat codes, remember?

Not to mention the repels.
You want some? Come fucking get some.
Nor the escape ropes.
I ain’t fucking running.
Nor the cures for all ailments.
Save your fucking burn heal.

The same reason I move on from that window is the same reason I skip past the medical center as I make my way to the far reaches of the city. They can’t heal me. It’s only taken me nine months, but I finally understand that.

They can’t.

But I can.

And I am, with every step. Those same steps lead me past a museum, and a part of me thinks it’d be fun to go inside. That it might be a good ‘story’. But with the amount of time I’ve spent with Centurion lately, I’m pretty full up when it comes to museums. In a good way, I guess.

So if the houses are out, the stores are out, and the various public services are out, it really only leaves one building.

I look up at the sign.

B.O.B. Gym #1

I enter.

“AAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!” a low voice rumbles from within. “What it do? What it do? Who’s sackin’ up and steppin’ into my crib?”


Fucking really?

“Preesh?” dumbstruck, I ask. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m finna drop deez boulders in my pants on any fly biddies that wanna fang, ya dig?” Big Preesh stands with his hands on his hips and said hips thrust forward into the world.

“Uh… sure,” I concede. “You said a bunch of words.”

Preesh and I have danced this dance before.

Undisputed biggest dick in the XWF.

And now…

“You’re the gym leader, aren’t you?” I ask, nearly fearing the answer.

“You bet your pasty fuckin’ ass I am, honky!” he shouts back.

“Fine.” I step forward into the cavernous battlefield. Rock walls surround us.


BIg Preesh chooses Geodude.

[Image: 4hdXdta.jpg]

“Yeah, look at this big ass boulder!” he bellows - always loud. He also rubs his belly, for reasons. “I drop deez nuts on da ground and da whole fuckin’ joint done drop their panties faster than Robert Main’s career after gettin’ straight throat-fucked by my main man Page.”

“Yeah but…” I look around uncomfortably, wishing someone else was here. “Why is there only one of them?”

The Geodude looks shocked. Preesh himself looks downright offended.

“I guess we’re doing this…”

[Image: wsb73yl.png]

“HA!” Preesh laughs. “Fire’s weak against rock ya cracka-ass biiiiiiyaaaatch!”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I say, smiling at my fiery friend.

I am the fire.


My Charmander nods. Embers form in its mouth, and then, they fire.

“You stupid little…” Preesh’s voice fades at the same time as the light. The plan was never to shoot fire at the rock. It was to shoot at the light.

In pitch black, I fight.


My fist hits Big Preesh in his not-so-big (compared to me anyway, we’ve been through this) rock snake just as the back-up generator kicks in and the lights come back on.

Because that’s why I do, right?

Sneak up on people.

I’ll fucking embrace it.

Speaking of rock snakes…

“You cheap-shotting, pussy…” Preesh fumes. “Fuck this!”

Big Preesh chooses Onix.

[Image: cGIxepa.jpg]

“Oh yeah!” he screams, sounding like the Kool-Aid Man. “My rock hard fucking snake! Take this dick!”

“Yeah… no…” I look to Charmander again. “Dracarys.”

Lights out.

It’s the things I do that are obscured.


The lights come back on once more and Big Preesh is doubled over. My Charmander is lighting S’mores from his tail and sharing them with Geodude and Onix. Like… something familiar… something recent.

Like… a campfire.


“Awwww, shit,” Preesh curses as he sees what’s happening. “Just take the fucking badge.”

[Image: n9quHgl.png]

One down.


“One real fight, huh? Or something to that effect.

Well then… let’s see how this plays out.

Brotherhood of Baddies.

Any real fights there?”


Ate 'Em All

[Image: SC7mNUv.jpg]
Banner courtesy of Atara Themis
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