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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » "Savage Saturday Night" RP Board
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Thebe Nwadike Offline
scaring white folk since 2002



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
10-05-2021, 01:06 AM


[Image: 2jPCV8w.png]
"Place your dollars a bets that little kid goin' far."



After quitting my day job and officially joining OCW I hopped on my bike and rode home. Big goofy smile on my face I keep tryna hide when I ride past people. Ducking through the alleys and side streets I make it close to home pretty quick and hit the brakes when a yellow Caddy crosses me and stops. The cars filled with Latinos, one of em looking me up and down as I stare back, one foot on the pedal and a tight grip on my handlebars. I swallow the lump in my throat as the back window glides down and some punk in the back flashes a piece; I just stand there like time froze. That goofy smile a distant memory now. Not much I can do, if I bail they could just come after me or cap me. If I start shit, they'll shoot me. Not like my broke ass has anything they want, even my shoes are busted from work. After what feels like forever they just start laughing and the Cadillac begins to crawl down the street. My head follows the car until they're out of sight, I let out all the air I was holding in my lungs and push a foot forward before a voice stops me.

"Yo, T!" Jay jogs out of his house looking where the car went before making his way over to me. "You good, bro?"

He throws a hand and I dap him up as he gets to me. "Yeah, I'm cool, dog."

"They been riding round here too long now, think they scoping somewhere out."

I kiss my teeth. "They just tryna scare folk, won't do shit."

Jay looks back down the street. "Yeah." Before turning back to me with a raised eyebrow. "Why ain't your ass slinging pizza?"

I laugh hopping off my bike and walking with Jay. "I quit."

"The fuck you do that for?"

"I got signed, bro." The smile returns, the curve of my mouth stinging my swollen eye. Jay scoffs and pops off for me with a laugh, throwing his arm around my neck and wringing me.

"My nigga! Proud of you, bro,"

"Thanks, man." His arm leaves my neck as he pats my back and walks alongside me. "You're looking at the newest member of OCW."

"Ne'er heard of 'em."

We chuckle a little. "They been goin' a while, tight fed. Decent folk on board last time I checked."

"Cool. So yo ugly ass gonna be on TV? Better question, when you gettin' paid?"

I slow down and look at Jay, squinting past him. "I dunno."

"So your dumb ass just up and quit before knowing all this?" We just stand there. The silence speaks for me as Jay starts cracking up. "You dumb mother fucker! Your grandaddy gonna whip yo ass!"

Jay breaks out in laughter as we continue the walk. I'm chewing my lip thinking to myself while this fool is just laughing at my ass.

"Aight, get yo ass home, man."

"And miss Pops cross your ass? Pfft, fuck that."

The laughter continues as we enter 62nd and I see Pops washing his car at the front of the house. Jay tries to stifle laughter as we walk up and I push my bike against the porch, my granddaddy looks back placing the sponge on the roof of his Plymouth.

"Hey, son." He looks over to Jay while drying his hands with a rag and nods. "Afternoon, Jay. How's your mother?"

"She doing well Mister Davies, I'll tell her you asked about her."

"You do that." I walk back over to Jay as Pops inspects me. "Why ain't you in work?"

I go to speak but a creak comes out my throat. My grandad leans against his car and glares at me. Jay sticks an elbow into my side.

"I-uh, I quit."

"Now why the hell would you do that?"

I run my hand across the back of my neck, Jay looks between me and my grandad.

"I got signed, gonna be a wrestler. Like a real one, Pops."

The silence drags on forever. Feel like I'm staring at that yellow Caddy again.

"Jay, think you should head home."

Aw shit. Jay nods to my grandad's command.

"Yessir." We dap again. "I'll swing by later and we'll celebrate and shit."

I nod as Jay heads off, Pops shouts after him.

"If he ain't buried six feet under." He looks back to me. "... What do you want me to say?"

"Shi- ... I dunno, congrats maybe? I'm proud of you?"

"Thebe! I am proud of you! I've been proud of you since we got you but fighting? It... It isn't stable and you could get hurt!"

"It's better than working in a pizza joint for the rest of my life, or robbing folk"

"Robbing, yes. But there's nothing wrong with honest work, Nikos was good to you."

"You're just mad that I won't get you free food anymore."

I try and lighten the mood a little, cracking a smile but my grandaddy remains cold.

"Imagine what yo momma would say if she saw you were going off fighting? You do remember the reason you got kicked out of school, right?"

"This is different, Pops!"

"No it ain't! Only difference is you doing it for a paycheck now. You are getting paid, right?"

"Yeah! ... Well, soon yeah."

He scoffs. "Soon he says." He resumes washing his car with a shake of his head. "I ain't happy about all this but I ain't gonna stop you."

"Okay."

I stand there for a moment and go to walk inside a little dejected.

"Hide that black eye from grandma too."

I stop at the door and exhale through my nostrils as I enter the house. I hear Grandma in the kitchen and the sounds of dishes splashing in the water stop as I close the door behind me.

"Thebe, that you?"

I take my jacket off and hang it up. "Yeah, Grandma."

"I thought I heard your voice. Why ain't you in work?" She comes walking into the hall with a big smile that drops when she sees my face. "Boy what happened to your eye!?"

I sigh as she places a hand on my cheek, I softly touch her wrist.

"It's nothing, I-uh opened the freezer door and caught myself so Nikos sent me home early."

She sucks air through her teeth inspecting me. Her hand slides down to my shoulder and she pats me.

"I got a steak in the fridge we can put it on your eye!"

"You don't need do that, I was just gonna chill out in my room anyway."

"Nonsense." She hobbles back into the kitchen. "Don't go anywhere!"

I rub my face and walk on through as she's in the fridge pulling out a sirloin and removing the plastic. She comes over to me with a smile and guides my hand to hold it against my eye. I tense with a gasp of pain and look back at her.

"This meant to be dinner?"

"Yo dinner anyway."

She chuckles to herself as I roll my good eye and leave the kitchen; the door swings open and my Grandaddy enters looking at me.

"Boy that better not be my steak."

"Nah it's mine, don't stress."

"Good." He looks past me into the kitchen and whispers to me. "You tell her?"

I hesitate briefly. "Not tonight."

He gives a nod folding the rag and placing it in his back pocket.

"Okay... Listen, I know I was hard on you but it's only because I want the best for you."

"I know that, Pops, just wish you could be a little happy for me."

"I am, a little." He places a hand on the back of head and kisses my forehead before ruffling my hair. "Love you, kid."

I smirk. "Yeah, you too."

He pats my shoulder and walks past me, I head down the hall and go into my bedroom, pushing the door close behind me.


>>>


Sitting on the front porch smoking a blunt, half a bottle of Olde E to the right of my Jordans looking out at the night sky waiting for the sound of sirens to fade into the distance. Always freaks me out, y’know that calm before the storm. The air all electrified, that tense space, like you could cut out the oxygen and take it away with you; nice idea, taking someone’s breath away while they stare at you stunned. I take another hit.

“I got in a lot of fights at school.” I crack a smirk and cough out a gasp of laughter followed by wisps of winding smoke. “I was that lil’ punk who knew how to get a rise out of people, y’know? Shit’s simple, you can get kids angry real easy. Say they dress wack, tell ‘em there family ain’t shit, fuck bro me and my homies use to walk past some of them and throw fake ass gang signs just to watch ‘em tweak. Shit was funny, man. But one thing I was never able to do is get a teacher pissed at me, no matter how much I clowned around and ran my mouth, them mother fuckers stayed professional and hell, props to ‘em because I went haaard.”

I crack up into another bout of laughter snuffing out the blunt on the sidewalk. I clear my nose and sit back up.

“And now I’m finally fighting someone as tired and depressing as a high school teacher and shit was easier than bullying a 10th grader. All I needed to say was, you still around and this dude flipped. Got on the defense real fuckin’ quick, giving me that classic old head treatment. Shaking his cane and saying he’ll get me an autograph.” I scoff. “Bitch please, this is what 30 years in the business is meant to look like? Another unoriginal line that any other contracted wrestler could have said to me, a line I am surely gonna hear again and fucking again. This is what the all-time wins record holder talks like, this is what an XWF legend looks like? And don’t give me the Thunder Knuckle bullshit and say I don’t get quality trash for free because bro I have seen your promos and all you have is quality garbage, second I know your vanilla ass had no fuckin’ idea what to say to me. Probably holding your breath, seething in anger that it’s not like the good ol’ days and you can tell me to go to the coloreds only Twitter. Bet it made your skin crawl backspacing on the hard ‘R and writing ‘homie’ instead. I’m playing wit chu, it’s funny calling old white folk racist and watching that vein in their temple blow out. Then again I could be on the money considering XWF is your home field and given this place's history I doubt I’d have to dig hard to find a pressed white hood in your closet.”

“Speaking of XWF, you bitches started a war you can't win and I am not only here to slap the silver spoon out of Cent's mouth but I'm here to be the first member of OCW to have a sanctioned match here and piss all over this fed. For me, a kid with one match under his belt to beat someone who has held so much gold it makes King Midas look weak is such a slap in the face. The fact that Cent even accepted this match should get his buddies tweaking, the fact management allowed this match is such incompetence and the fact I have to go to Ohio to leave Centurion coughing on the mat is a fuckin' joke. Y'all better pay my airfare I swear."

“Shit, maybe Cent can loan me after he apologizes for making me stroll over here and waste 5 minutes of my life in front of the singular unwashed XWF fan. To be fair, man, you should be thanking me. You actually have a real match that isn’t against some old fuck you dusted off to bury a feud literally only you knew about because that’s how you make your living, yeah?”
I laugh. “It’s pathetic, bro. You can’t own shit anymore, you have to dig up bodies to make yourself feel better. God of Death was on death’s door not seen in who the fuck cares while you have been running the circuit for the past few years! Sure your fifty year old ass ain’t what it was but you’re still doing work, GoD was working in the Starbucks across the arena! It’s sad, that’s why I laughed at your ass when you jumped up all hyped! It wasn’t real! You didn’t deserve that moment you fucking fabricated it! That feud died when both of your careers did but you just had to make yourself feel better for one night and remind yourself that you’re not completely worthless, you can still beat up a civilian. Shit, maybe after I kick yo ass Saturday you can call me up in 30 years to try and regain some ego only for me to remind you that this kid is 100% better than you on every single level you lame ass mother fucker. Your skill came from years of experience and deteriorated with every single bout of depression when you lost a match, when someone forgot your name, when you thought ‘am I good enough’ while my skill is ingrained into every atom of my being. You built to being above average, I was born legendary. I was born to fight, I was born to win, I have way too much to work for to not be that guy while your dumb ass has become so complacent with just expecting the red carpet, expecting the VIP treatment, expecting the limo and champagne! That’s why I’m forcing you to publicly apologize to me because I am not gonna be another ‘rookie’ you brush off saying it was a fluke, I want you to remember my name, I want you to hide that sneer when my name is mentioned and I want you to throw the remote when this beautiful face is on your TV. I ain’t here to bruise your ego, I’m here to take a fuckin’ bite out of it. I’m gonna be that punk in the back of your brain feeding off your pride like the parasite you think I am and shitting out the truth; making it clear that you can’t hang, that you aren’t that guy, that you wasted so many years of your life on a company that could not give a fuck about you. On a shit hole that forces you to say sorry to some kid from OCW, a place that put you into an Old Man Match just for kicks, a company that took a piss break when you concluded a “legendary” feud.”

I pause abruptly, shaking my head to myself before thinking for a moment.

“I ain’t gonna go through records to see where you came from, man, I ain’t got time and you ain’t worth the effort but I’d really like to know where you started. I’ll do a little light reading, bro but I ain’t opening up a filing cabinet for you that’s for damn sure. Because you seem like a real stubborn individual who won’t change how he does shit for no one; which, not gonna lie, I kinda respect. So I can only guess you came in wearing a suit bought with old money and that ego of yours was just born from an upbringing of being pampered and sucked up too. And if I’m wrong on that then you're more lost in your own world than I thought because you come at me for working before this. Like, bro, the fuck were you doing? Y’know how the real world works, right? You can make fun of me all you want for having a day job before I got a contract but guess where your ass is gonna end up while I’m main eventing every week. Again, it comes back to unoriginality. Some plain white bread clown who tries to pumpkin spice himself up saying he’s half Nordic, 25% Greek, 25% English to make himself appear that he isn’t a basic white girl; a fucker who still uses a remix of a Hogan theme? Dude, that’s embarrassing. And sure, man, you have zero fuckin’ idea who I am, what else you gonna say to me? You know I worked at a pizza joint and I’m black. Not much to go on, yeah. But, and hear me out here, have you tried putting in work for the first time in years? How about thinking before hitting reply? Literally anything else could have worked better, but again, unoriginality is a curse. Something I was more than blessed to not receive, you see, I’m the new kid, the hot shit, the poster child. Cent is worth as much as his nickname, he's a tired ass meme on yo grandparent’s Facebook group, he’s the human equivalent of a ‘live, laugh, love’ poster, and the simple fact of the matter is any way this match goes he has to sit there and listen to every single word I gotta say and I pray I taught him how to run a mouth so I don't have to witness this bitch make a clown of himself again, making me get sympathy pains every time he uses a tired line. I ain't doubting myself by the way, I'm gonna fuck this dude up you can put money on that. But my Grandma always said, the best thing you can do in life is try and leave the world a better place than you came into and even though I'mma bout to commit a felony in that ring, hopefully I can teach an old dog some new tricks."

"Or I'll just fold a bitch and move on with my life."


I lift myself up and begin to head inside before twisting my head back around.

"I hope your apology is gonna be better than the fight you'll give me. Peace."

[Image: SQTltkW.gif]
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[-] The following 9 users Like Thebe Nwadike's post:
ALIAS (10-05-2021), Chris Page (10-05-2021), Corey Smith (10-05-2021), Doctor Louis D'Ville (10-05-2021), Dolly Waters (10-05-2021), JimCaedus (10-05-2021), Theo Pryce (10-05-2021), Thunder Knuckles™ (10-05-2021), Vita Frickin Valenteen (10-14-2021)




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