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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Shove-It! Boards » Shove-It! RP Board
Holy Magic, Living Out of Spite and THE WOLFMAN
Author Message
Mark Flynn Offline
24/7 Briefcase Holders get their name in GOLD
The 24/7 Shot!



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
10-27-2021, 05:52 PM

“PURGE THIS TOWN OF FILTH! EXPUNGE SIN! REMOVE THE INFECTION!”

The priest that dove in front of the limo, drives the townspeople toward Talbot’s shack, brandishing torches and pitchforks.

The last of Talbot’s meager possessions has been gathered into a barricade. The wardrobe provides the structure, while Talbot’s collection of damaged cutlery and mugs loaded inside serves as weight… Flynn and NK, each gripping one side, lift the furniture to block the front entrance.

NK’s hands shiver in terror. Flynn’s move confidently.

Talbot would help… if he weren’t still bound-and-gagged on the floor.

Plan A was escaping in the limo. Unfortunately, NK had instructed Kato to head for the hotel… Leaving them transport-less...

Flynn squats and removes the tattered rag from Talbot’s mouth. Lawrence coughs, his breathing unobstructed.

“Lawrence. Pretend I wasn’t listening to anything you said.”

“What do these people want?”


NK kneels beside Flynn.

“They want Mister Talbot destroyed.”

“That’s a no-go.”

“Agreed.”

“If Larry dies, we lose. Even if he reforms, it might not happen in time for the match.”

NK gasps, horrified.

“Mark Flynn! We aren’t just saving Lawrence Talbot to win our match, correct?”

“...No?”

“Run while you still can.”

Flynn and NK look down at Lawrence, bitterly staring at the floor.

“Others have tried to help me. They’ve come to try and lift this curse. The townspeople kill them all the same. And I live…”

From outside, the holy man continues to yell.

“EXCISE EVIL IN ALL FORMS! ALL SYMPATHIZERS TO THE MONSTER MUST BE EXTERMINATED!”

Lawrence looks up.

“I’m sorry… I deserve this but I don’t believe either of you do...”

Flynn chews on this.

Then, he heads for the window… grabbing one of Talbot’s large buckets of collected rainwater.

NK’s eyebrows raise.

“Mark Flynn, what are you doing?”

“Buying time.”

Flynn pours the rainwater out the window down the side of the house… The water travels down the side of the shack, down the hill that Talbot’s shack sits on top of… And muddies the earth. The townspeople lose footing as they make their way towards the shack… One even trips to the ground and slides down on his front, bowling over a few behind him.

Flynn grabs another bucket full of rainwater and moves onto the next window…

NK leans down to Talbot, moving to untie him.

“We must make haste.”

Lawrence pleads with his eyes.

“Leave, Mr. NK.”

“No.”

“I deserve this.”

NK, suddenly and forcefully, twists Talbot’s face up.

“I’ve been killed as you have, Lawrence Talbot.”

For once, Talbot doesn’t avoid NK’s eyes.

“Twice I’ve shared your fate.”

“And while I am not as certain how I… return… I live again. But, I know first-hand… How awful death is.”

“And I would spare anyone that fate.”


Talbot grunts… and nods.

NK’s fingers start to untangle Talbot’s bindings…

The villagers are now within a few dozen feet… One of them lobs their pitchfork at the shed like a javelin. It sticks just below the window, its tines piercing inches into the thin wall…

Flynn leans out the pane.

“NICE TRY, ASSHOLE!”

Flynn pitches a half-mug out the window and catches the pitchfork-throwing villager in the face with it. The man doubles over, eyes full of porcelain shards.

NK, with Talbot following, spins Flynn by the shoulder.

“Mark Flynn! We must leave now!”

“Why? This place is getting fun!”

NK’s in disbelief.

“Mark Flynn, these people will slaughter us!”

Flynn grins ear-to-ear.

“You think this is the first time I’ve fought a Romanian mob?”

“Mark Flynn! This is terrifying!”

“NK! I toldja, I’m not afraid of this SCOOBY-DOO BU-”

That moment, through the window, an arc of pure, white light burns and sears the ceiling, burning the wood black.

The trio looks out the window… And see the priest’s hands are basked in light.

“GOD HAS GIVEN US THE POWER TO DELIVER OURSELVES FROM EVIL.”

NK looks at Talbot.

“...Was that… magic?”

“They claim it is of God… Gifted in exchange for piety.”

“...Oh no.”

NK looks over and Flynn has now ducked behind the window…

Hyperventilating…

“M-M-m-m-m-magic… Magicmagicmagicmagic.”

***
Lycana. Betsy Granger. And Dracula.

A werewolf, a time-traveler and a vampire.

...Wait, what’s happening?

Oh, I apologize, Lawrence Talbot. We’re trash-talking.

...What?

Follow along, you’ll get it.

Just like Betsy gets undeserved matches against tag champs.

And then loses them.

Haha, for real, right? When TNGB were champs… Betsy & Warstein at WarGames, Betsy & Lycana at Relentless... Then, we pick-up the belts and she’s first in line.

Betsy, if you couldn’t beat the Bastards multiple times, how the hell ya gonna beat us? The team that beat them in one go?

Foolish.

This ain’t OCW, where you’re winning no problem. This is the big leagues, where you haven’t won against anyone-besides-Chris-Page in six months.

And you’re about to lose again.

Speaking of people who couldn’t beat the Bastards…

Lycana!

You and Marf had 3 different matches with the Bastards. And you shot 0-for-3.

0-for-4 after you and Betsy lost at Relentless.

So much for your ‘New Era of Tag Team Wrestling’. Y’all debuted a new titantron, had a coordinated intro... all to STILL LOSE. What kinda moron is Betsy, picking someone who never got close to beating TK & Bobby…?

I actually hoped I’d be Betsy’s surprise partner at Relentless.

...Pardon?

I defeated her one-on-one. I’d hypothesized she’d recognize she needed a better partner. I wasn’t booked!

Sure, fine. But, NK, if you were Betsy’s surprise partner, you would have known.

...Then, how would it have surprised me?

...Never mind. Let’s focus on our last opponent.

Count Dracula.

Y’all may claim we drew the short straw with Larry here.

...That’s hurtful.

Just wait, Lawrence Talbot. It’s a rhetorical device: We present our opponents’ argument, then ridicule it.

Oh. Ok. Sorry.

But just like at Relentless, Betsy and Lycana bet on the wrong horse.

If you knew your mythology, you’d know there’s only one way to beat a werewolf. Silver bullet to the heart.

Dracula? Holy hell, there are SO MANY WAYS to beat Dracula.

Stake through the heart? Dead.

Too much sunlight? Dead.

He tries to cross running water? Dead.

Larry, try one.

...Um… Garlic Aioli… dead?

Haha, you’re getting it, Lawrence Talbot!

He stands near a cross…

A cross.

Two beams in a t-shape.

Arguably, all four corner turnbuckles are crosses.

DEAD.

Wow! You’re right! There’s only one way to kill me…

And many ways we can kill Drac.

We’ve brought plenty of wooden machetes for staking.

I stuffed my tights with garlic.

Not to mention, We cheat!

I still prefer ‘circumvent rules’.

Meaning, we plan on isolating you in three-on-one ambushes.

...I’m still a pacifist.

We’ll cross that bridge later, Larry. Which, as we’ve mentioned, is something Drac can’t do.

You know what else Dracula cannot do? Enter places uninvited.

...Like a wrestling ring.

See where we’re going with this?

Dracula is PHYSICALLY INCAPABLE OF ENTERING THE RING WITHOUT TAGGING IN.

Which means he can’t break up attacks or stop big moves.

Wow, Dracula is an awful partner.

If our opponents think they stand a chance, they must ‘know’ Drac as well as they ‘know’ us.

Whaddya mean, NK?

Way back, at WarGames, Betsy dreamed up some scenario where all the ‘heroes’ would battle all the ‘villains’.

How regressive. Also, not how WarGames works. Continue.

In her imagination, I fought alongside BoB…

After they ambushed you, sure…

TO OPPOSE COREY SMITH.

*gasp*

I know!

Betsy, I understand you paint people black-and-white, instead of with shades-of-gray. That said, WOW. What a miss.

And Lycana assumes you fear her since she’s a werewolf? Is that correct?

*sigh* It’s not complicated. I don’t fear werewolves.

You don’t?

Nah, that’s a medical condition.

It’s a CURSE.

Either way, there's a biological explanation. Clear rules.

For the record, we’re all wearing protective cups to the ring. Made of pure silver. For your own sake, don’t kick below our belts, Lycana.

I’m even okay with vampires. Same deal, you get bit, drink blood. Done-zo. Straight-forward.

If you say so, rhabdophobe.

BUT THERE’S NO EXPLANATION FOR MAGIC!

***

“NoExplanationForMagicNoExplanationForMagicNoExplanationForMagic...”

A battering ram slams against Talbot’s front door.

NK leans over Flynn, who is now cradling his knees against his chest.

“Mark Flynn! We must leave now!”

Flynn repeats his mantra, not acknowledging NK at all.

“If you will not come of your own accord, I will carry you!”

“Are you…?” Talbot dry-swallows, sweating feverishly, “Sure…?”

“In moments of great stress, human endorphins multiply strength significantly!”

NK strains to lift Flynn in a fireman’s carry.

...And immediately topples over.

NK drops Flynn to the floor with a thud.

“Perhaps Mark Flynn’s stress also multiplies his weight…”

As NK goes to try again…

Lawrence Talbot has easily lifted Flynn onto his shoulders.

“Impressive! Lawrence Talbot, despite your small stature, you bear great loads! How do y-”

The wood holding the roof starts to cave against the mob’s crushing pressure…

Lawrence… is looking bigger. And furrier...

“G-GO N-NOW!”

“Indeed. Where to now?”

“THE B-B-BACK!”

Talbot, with Flynn in tow, leads NK to the back of the shack… Ducking under a doorway collapsing at its center…

They reach the rear wall.

“TH-TH-THERE’S A PANEL THAT...”

Voices behind the wall… The mob surrounds the entire building.

“WE’RE TR-TRAPPED!”

“We need... a plan…”

NK’s hands shake…

Suddenly, a voice in his mind…

Kato’s...

”Sir, it’s okay to be scared…”

NK takes a deep breath.

And tip-toes up to look Mark Flynn, still on Talbot’s growing shoulders, in the face, repeating a new mantra…

“IJustDon’tLikeMagicIJustDon’tLikeMagicIJustDon’tLikeMagic”

“Mark Flynn, it’s okay to be scared!”

Flynn looks at NK.

“It doesn’t make you weak to be afraid!”

“But we NEED you right now. To plan our escape!”




In a flash, Flynn lifts himself off Talbot’s now-gigantic shoulder and lands on his feet.



“Thanks.”

NK beams proudly.

“Lawrence. How much control do you have on transforming?”

“D-DUNNO! FULL M-MOON CLOSE! CAN’T H-HOLD MUCH L-LONGER!”

“Wait. You’ve been suppressing transformation, Lawrence Talbot?”

“MUST C-C-CONCENTRATE! ALWAYS H-HOLDING BACK!”

“...Then stop.”

“...WHAT?”

“Stop holding back. Let loose.”

“COULD K-KILL EVERYONE!”

“So? Fuck these assholes.”

“JUST WANT… TO DIE… NK SAID NOT DIE BECAUSE PEOPLE CARE... NO ONE DOES…”

Flynn grabs Lawrence by his… um… snout. It’s a snout now.

“LAWRENCE. You don’t LIVE because other people care…”

“D-D-DON’T?”

“No, you live out of FUCKING SPITE.”

NK leans in.

“Mark Flynn, I don’t know if that’s cor-”

“You live one more day, because it makes things difficult for the fuckers against you. Every second you’re alive hurts other people that hate you.”

“D-D-DON’T WANT HURT NO-ONE!”

A beam in the roof collapses. The front door is down to one hinge…

“Really? Like 50 Romanian villagers here don’t feel the same about you.”

NK squints, then shrugs.

“True, Lawrence Talbot. Your neighbors don’t share your commitment to pacifism.”

“...JUST… D-D-DEFENDING… SELVES...”

“If this were self-defense, they’d move! Or invest in sturdier locks! Or not kill the people trying to cure you! Why do they attack now and not when you’re transformed? Because you’re vulnerable, Lawrence.”

Lawrence’s teeth... sharpen.

“They’d rather fight you human than fight you fair.”

His eyes blacken. His face sprouts mounds of fur.

“FUCK THESE PEOPLE, LARRY!”

Lawrence… roars.

***

The priest calls to his flock, still battering the front door.

“GO, YE FAITHFUL! RENDER GOD’S JUSTICE!”

The battering ram takes the door completely off!

The mob runs in the shack…



And then sprints right back out!

Bursting forth from the shack… Wood exploding from the wall he emerges through...

With a Korean soldier and an odd bearded man hanging onto each shoulder.

Lawrence Talbot.

The Wolfman.

The villagers flee in fear… Some slipping on the still slick mud Flynn had created…

The Priest shouts angrily...

“RETURN, YOU COWARDS! IF YOU RETREAT, YOU IGNORE GOD’S WILL!”

The Wolfman bends his knees… Loading his frame...

And leaps through the air, sailing on the wind…

Landing before the priest.

Before the Father can spellcast...

Before he can even scream…

...He’s halfway down Talbot’s gullet…
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