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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare RP Board
Fairy Tale: Part 2
Author Message
Corey Smith Offline
Active in XWF



XWF FanBase:
Some of everyone

(cheered; very rarely plays dirty but isn't lame either; many likable qualities)


#1
01-08-2022, 07:21 AM

RECAP

Last time, Corey Smith was summoned to help a young man that the police had an interest in for a series of missing child cases. The young man called himself Pan, and he opened up to Corey about his story, claiming that he had been trying to help the missing children, but that the true culprit was FBI Agent Sumpter, who Pan referred to as Captain Hook (Sumpter did indeed have a hand that was a prosthetic hook). Assuming Pan’s accusations to be psychotic ramblings at first, Corey agreed to take the young man into his home while the police continued their investigations, as they did not yet have enough evidence to hold him. However, Corey slowly found himself more and more intrigued by Pan’s story, which likened him to the mythical Peter Pan of Neverland.

Against this backdrop, Corey is still struggling to find himself and define his own morality. With a match up with one of the XWF’s most vicious stars, Lycana, on the horizon, Corey may have to figure this out sooner rather than later.




Before



Corey Smith sidled down next to the garbage can, still breathing a might heavily after his breakneck sprint through two backyards and vaulting over a chain link fence. If this were a good time for reflection, he might reflect on the sequence of events that brought him here. But this wasn’t a good time, so he is forced to sum it up thusly:

Helping Peter Pan stop a serial killer.

And to think, when considering all the insane things that have happened in his life, that may not even crack the top three craziest.

Pan snuck a glance back at Corey, the moonlight bouncing off his eyes.

[Image: images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQqT1jMV0-0Q2QusPJfcYT...I&usqp=CAU]


Those laughing eyes. Deep set with something playful, amber hues intermixing with what Corey could have sworn were flecks of gold dancing about his irises. But beneath the laughter, there was something far deeper, the beast that gave Corey pause. Because there was a rage there too, checked for the moment but yearning to break free.

So what’s the game plan?

Pan settled back on his haunches, his athletic body rippling beneath a plain green t-shirt. I didn’t have a chance to get this close to the house before I got picked up by the police. But I have a way for us to get in. Pan rolled up his pant leg, revealing a sheath holding a dagger. Pan withdrew the dagger, another act that gave Corey pause. We can get in with this.

Corey considered the dagger. It looked sharp, but wasn’t very large. You’re going to shimmy a door open?

Watch. That sparkle in his eye, followed by a smile carrying twin phantoms of mischief and gaiety. Peeking around the garbage cans to ascertain that the path from the garage to the rest of the house was clear, they stalked their way across the drive and found themselves at a rear door of the house with sliding glass doors. Wordlessly, Pan then pressed the edge of the dagger up against the glass, and meticulously began to carve a circle with it.

Holy hell, how….?

This dagger was enchanted by the Fourth Greatmother during the time of the first Arcane Dismantling.

Corey blinked twice. Uh huuuh. Preferring to not seek any more detail, Corey simply watched Pan work as he finished a near perfect circle in the glass. Then, with a gentle poke, he pushed the section through, causing it to shatter on the floor. Pan then reached through the newly made hole and unlocked the door.

The boy had skills as a thief, this much was clear. But whether this affected Corey’s judgment of his character was still very much in the air. In fact, a whole lot of things were still very much in the air here, like whether or not Corey should have bailed 20 fucking minutes ago before comitting what was most certainly misdeamenor breaking and entering. Breaking and entering the home of an FBI Special Agent no less. Woof.

They entered the kitchen, their footwear making twinking crunching sounds as the shards were pushed into the linoleum of the floor. Pan stopped briefly to place the dagger back in its sheath.

So you’re sure he doesn’t have a dog or something?

Oh, reasonably! But like I said I wasn’t able to get too close to the house before the police picked me up.

Great.

Having a look around, it looked like an ordinary kitchen. Though, then again, he wasn’t quite sure what a serial killer’s kitchen SHOULD look like. A stove full of boiled body parts? Limbs with sloughed off skin in the sink? The worst charge that could be levied against the man was leaving an open box of Cheerios on the counter.

There’s something important that I have to do first! Pan noted, breaking off and exiting the kitchen. Corey scuttled after him.

And what’s that?

We need water!

….water?

Skimming the room, Pan’s eyes settled on a staircase, and he bounded up it with reckless abandon.

Look, you need to slow down. Corey hissed, before succumbing and following after him. By the time Corey arrived, he saw a light on, its warm hues irising into the hall from a door that was ajar. Corey followed Pan into the room: a bathroom. Pan sank to his knees before the tub and turned on the tap. Dude, what the hell are you doing?

We need water if we need to make a quick escape.

If we need to make a quick escape we need to haul ass, man. And nothing about bathy time screams hauling ass to me.

Water is life, Corey. And to us, it’s also a bridge between lifetimes…between worlds. You might call it teleportation.

…huh?

Oh come on, is that really so hard for you to wrap your head around? Your friend Alias does it all the time.

Corey was taken aback. You know about Alias?

Pan waved his hand in the air, as though his sentiment was obvious. Well yeah! I’ve watched the XWF before. And besides, Alias popped in on Neverland once. Some of the boys saw it. He was fighting some blue haired woman. It was for like 10 seconds and it was over. After the boys described what they saw, I just knew it had to be him.

…fighting Lycana. Corey completed the thought. Who I’m facing in a couple weeks, in fact.

Good luck with that! She seems mean! He says with a smile as he pops the drain on the tub and starts to fill it. He places his hand under the water, as if to check the temperature. But then, his hand lingers there, fingers splayed, playing in it. Simply enjoying the feeling of the rivulets of falling water passing between his fingers. It struck Corey as a remarkably childlike gesture.

Look, I still don’t understand….

Don’t worry Corey, I’ll tell you what to do. It sounded reassuring. It WAS reassuring. Which meant it was either the truth or this boy was so deep down in the crazy he couldn’t see the light anymore. As Corey stared at the back of this young man’s head as he filled the tub, it occurred to him then that if this was madness and folly, he could end it easily. A quick strike to the back of the head would knock Pan unconscious, long enough for Corey to hold him for…

…the police wouldn’t believe me.

Corey snaps to as Pan was mid sentence.

They couldn’t believe it was one of their own. I suppose that’s not surprising. Then, turning back towards Corey. You do believe me, don’t you?

Corey hesitates before stammering out, Y-yeah, I do.

The tub is full now, and Pan shakes the excess moisture from his hands into the tub before rising. That’s good. But if you wanted to leave I’d be okay with that.

No…I believe you. Corey pauses. But we don’t know what we’re looking for.

Anything that proves he’s the one hurting those children.

All the while, a feeling had been mounting in Corey that he just couldn’t shake. Finally, he spat it out. There’s one thing I’ve been meaning to ask you. Were there really witnesses who saw you with those kids before they went missing?

Pan avoided Corey’s gaze. Yes.

Corey’s stomach roiled, and fresh perspiration broke free on his hairline. So…. His body tensed.

I was trying to help them. Before Captain Hook got to them. They were all so sad. Their lives so…so….messed up! Corey… he runs a forearm across his eyes, Corey hadn’t even noticed he was tearing up. It’s my fault those kids are dead. Hook targeted them, targeted the ones I was trying to save so he could pin his crimes on me.

Corey winced. You have to admit that’s a stretch.

Then why are you here?

It was a simple question, and as Corey opened his mouth to reply, the font of answers he had planned seemed all of a sudden inadequate. Piqued, he finally said, I’m not 100% sure.

Well, part of you must believe me.

A large part of me believes you. I just….haven’t figured out why yet. Corey shrugged. I know that sounds stupid. He points to the door. But if I’m going to do stupid things, could we at least do stupid things a little faster? I don’t wanna be here when white Candyman gets home.

Right! Pan saluted smartly. I think I saw an office of some sort down the hall.

I’ll start there. Why don’t you scout around downstairs and we’ll meet in the middle in 30 minutes.

A Little Later….

Corey tried to focus on the task at hand, but found that his mind continually wandered. Again and again he drifted back to letting go of Jace’s hand, that singular act that both protected his friends and served as a dark covenant with Mammon.

What does that mean for me? Am I really so different from the Madison Dyson’s and Lycana’s of the world?

Yes, Lycana. Corey sighed, fanning out some papers on the desk. They were of no importance, so he scooped them up, replaced them in a neat pile and slid them back into the file folder. His match with the so called Dark Vixen of Violence was soon. And while he abhorred everything she stood for, Corey couldn’t escape the notion that the commonalities between them were mounting. Corey too was complicit with evil. Getting Mercy to shoot Madison. Brokering a deal with Mammon to protect the commune. Try as he might to deny it, Corey’s moral compass was a bit more skewed than usual this year. It was….

No, I need to focus. And we need to get the hell out of here.

Corey retrained his sights on the contents of the desk, grabbing for another folder and soon finding it was full of nothing but old tax returns. The further Corey slipped down this breaking and entering rabbit hole, the more he was regretting it. “Captain Hook” seemed like an ordinary sort of fellow, with no more skeletons than Corey had. Perhaps far less given the bality of Corey’s findings. That is until…

*Fwump*

Corey looked up. Pan was slumped against the doorframe. All color had been drained from his features. Hey, are you alright?

Corey…he gasped, his eyes brimming with tears….I found it.

Found what?

I found the children! He looked physically ill as he said it.

You found…Corey’s thought trailed off. He found the children.

Oh God, he found the children.

Corey rushed after Pan, down the flights of stairs until they arrived at the foot of the basement. By that point, Pan was openly weeping. He turned towards the cellar door. I can’t Corey, I can’t!

It’s ok. You don’t have to look again. He put a hand on Pan’s shoulder to reassure him, even as a mental war waged within him. He didn’t want to see either, but he had to to prove that this insane venture wasn’t just him dancing to a pied piper. That they had found something truly terrible and exposed it to the light.

Corey put one foot in front of the other as he stepped further into the basement, taking note of an abnormality across the way. It was a walk in freezer, surely an uncommon sight in an upper middle class home such as this. A chain and padlock laid to the side, no doubt disassembled by Pan’s mysterious dagger. The door hung half open on its hinges, but already he could smell a cool death in the air. It was sickly sweet and frostbitten. With a shuddering hand, he reached for the door and plied it the rest of the way open.

Corey fell to his knees.

It was an obelisk of perversion, a small house constructed out of corpses. Mostly children, their decaying bodies forming pillar and post that held this vile domicile aloft. The vomit came fast and sudden, and Corey wretched on the floor. Sputtering, he pointed to Pan. Call the police. Now!

Corey he’s here! Pan whispered, his breath harsh with fear. I can hear him!

Turning away from the terrible sight, he replied, I didn’t hear anything.

My hearing is more keen than yours Corey. But he’s outside. He’s scouting the perimeter of the house. Oh my God, he must know we’re here. Come on! Pan waved Corey forward.

Corey got up quickly, racing after Pan up the stairs. One back on the first floor, Corey grabbed Pan’s sleeve, trying to drag him towards the backdoor.

No, he’s already there!

We need to get out!

Upstairs! Pan grabbed hold of Corey now, his firm hand about Corey’s bicep.

No, no!

Please trust me! Pan put more pressure on Corey, stopping just short of forcing him to follow. With a pained look behind him, Corey surrendered to Pan, and they both raced up the stairs and ended up in the bathroom. Pan pointed down at the tub. We have to go in there.

Oh no, this was a mistake. What are you talking about?! We need to run!

Pan grabbed hold of Corey’s shoulders. The water, Corey! The water will conduct us to Neverland. Releasing his grip on Corey, Pan got in the tub. Come on!

Corey heard the door bang open downstairs, followed by a man’s yelling, but Corey couldn’t make out the words for the anxious buzz in his ears. No, come on Pan! Corey bent low and grabbed Pan. I can't leave him. He’s sick. I can’t leave him.

COREY! And then, Pan pulled Corey into the tub, shocking Corey with his strength. Corey fell in on top of Pan, their bodies meeting for the briefest of moments as Pan grappled Corey about his neck and submerged him under the water. Corey screamed in protest, but all he could see were the bubbles formed of his cries rising to meet the lights of the bathroom.

[Image: tumblr_mn9mehFZKL1s2bxeho1_500.gif]


It was almost beautiful. Ethereal. A calmness came over Corey. This is how I die. It was duplicitous, this calm. This warmth. It was a liar. Corey focused on the lights as they grew brighter and brighter. But then, he realized that the light was not just coming from above, but from below their enmeshed bodies as well. Corey felt the tub fall away from his back, and he instinctively clutched on to Pan as if falling. What’s happening? What’s happening?!

And that’s when the shadow fell, blotting out the lights above. There was a crack, the sound reverberating through the water. And then Corey’s world was blood.


Now

More Words That Are Better Than Lycana’s Words


The shot opens on Corey Smith sitting in a children’s play castle. A crude sign is tacked to the front reading “Spooky Castle”, and children are playing in and around it as Corey cuts his promo.

Well, gonna have to do this one a little different. Turns out I forgot I had to babysit some kiddos today, so this promo is going to have NO SWEARS.

No swears! One of the kid’s repeats, jamming a light emanating sword in the air.

Yes, that’s right. None!

The shot closes in on an ultra-high def close up of Corey’s forehead as a bead of sweat pearls out and falls.

But I can do this. He takes a deep breath.

So, as predicted Lycana went whole hog on the “empty words, words, words thing.” Started out by bragging about beating an XWF rookie and someone who was LITERALLY lobotomized. Also, super cool how you started paying attention to our respective records AFTER I won War Games and Leap of Faith, and how you hold out three VICTORIES as evidence that the gilding on the ol’ Core-meister has started to rub off. I mean, if that was the only stupid we were left with I guess it could be written off as a TIA or something, but no…no….there’s so, so, much more.

Lycana’s got some names of people that she’s beaten. Turns out I do too! Names like Jim Caedus, Dolly Waters, Doc D’Ville, Thad Duke…you know, really REALLY good opponents. While this witch sits here and crows over Quid, Mercy, and Omega like she’s got some shine on her. Yeah, Lycana’s got names. I got some more names for ya too boo boo. A lot more names in fact. As in, I retraced your entire XWF career thus far and wrote down the names of everyone’s who’s ever handed you your….heiny.

He smiles at a little girl running by.

Here’s the list.

Atara Themis
Corey Smith (that’s me!)
RL Edgar
Alias
Jenny Myst (lol)
Louis D’Ville
Corey Smith (again)
Betsy Granger
RL Edgar (again)
Demos
Ned Kaye
Robert Main
Jim Caedus
Team BOB (eliminated by Thunder Knuckles)
Jim Caedus (again)
Them No Good Bastards
Them No Good Bastards (again)
Alias (again)


Corey shakes his head. Now, I’ll give ya a caveat there Lycana and admit that some of those names were tag teams, so you weren’t technically pinned by both of them, but the “L” against that team is documented. Heckuva list though. Heckuva list. No wonder you had to resort to crowing about who you did beat, you’ve hardly beaten anyone else!

You know what I see when I look at this list? I see somebody who CAVES. Again and again. When times get tough, Lycana assumes the position…on the canvas.

Anyhoo, you wanna know who I lost to this year?


Robbie Bourbon
Thunder Knuckles
Robbie Bourbon
Thad Duke


Now, call me crazy, but one of those lists looks a LOT shorter than the other! How convenient for you that you should claim “records don’t matter”. Don’t look behind the curtain, I guess.

Corey puts his hands together pleadingly.

So, please, please, PLEAAAAASSSEEEEE tell me why I should take you seriously? I mean, I don’t like these gimme matches. I want serious competition. But Lycana, I just cannot possibly comport my brain to accept you as serious competition. I can’t do it. Not with that laundry list of losses, many of which are people I beat either at War Games or at Leap of Faith.

And of your two big name wins: That XTreme title match against Alias and Chris Page….? Nobody considers your dub against Alias legitimate. No one. You literally needed a beefy cuck…


The kids all “awwwwww!” and point at Corey accusingly.

“Cuck” is not a swear word, it’s the sound…a chicken makes…. He kind of trails off, praying to God that none of them asks him to explain what a cuck is. Thankfully, children’s attention spans are about 5 nanoseconds.

As I was saying, you literally needed a beefy cuck, a blowtorch, and attempted homicide to put Alias away. And you couldn’t even DO THAT properly. Granted, he might just be Space Jesus, but still: task incomplete!

As for Page. Yeah, you did beat him. But my God does he su-stink. Weakest Universal champion in years. And if a human being could be described as a Melatonin binge with a Vicodin chaser, well, he’s your guy.

But that’s it. Those are your biggest triumphs. Both of which happened over 6 months ago.

You have nothing on me. Absolutely, positootly, NOTHING.

And like I said, I WISH you had something on me. I want to bring credibility to this championship. I want to make it the hottest thing on television since that all male model season of Naked and Afraid* but you are emphatically not it.

Next on the docket, as loathe as I am to rebroadcast anything you have said or done as it may be in violation of the Helsinki Accords, I have to admit I am so flabbergasted, so dumbfounded by these following statements that I have to present them to the light of day unabridged to draw attention to how stupid they are.

Quote:It is funny to watch you, the one who is supposed to be this kind hearted soul, the one who takes care of others, the essential good guy... always finding your way into the drama, and always siding with the pack, no matter who they are, or what side of the coin they dance on. Even if it has nothing to do with you in the faintest, you slide your way on in... lured like a moth to the flame, and unable to resist putting in your two cents. I’ve seen it time and again over the months. It’s like you are addicted to the attention. Bluntly, a lot of your actions certainly counter what you act like you are. You choose the side that benefits you the most, right or wrong, not caring a whit about anyone else in the process. Or you simply cannot resist stirring a pot that doesn’t need stirring. You pretend to be a better person than you are, singing your own praises that you are no longer controlled by the darkness of Engy. That part, is definitely still there in you... rearing its ugly head for all the world to see pretty damn often... you just don’t want to own up to it.

What in gosh darn heck does this even MEAN? I have never seen an emptier, more content devoid accusation in my life. You might as well have accused me of doing “that thing that one day with the thing and the other thing.”

One of the little boys audibly “ewwwws” from the background.

Um, dirty mind much! Go wash it out with soap! He returns his attention to the camera. So, please do give me some explicit examples of times I did this. I think you’ll find that anytime I had a bad word to say about anyone it’s because they were reigning douche supreme at the time. If you’ll go back and take a look at what I’ve actually said and done, I think you’ll see that my moral compass is iron clad. I went after Andre Dixon a second time because he was a….a….Corey looks around…..D-I-C-K, who ambushed people and joined up with B.O.B. I cashed in on Thad Duke because he literally gave me a stroke. Not the good kind either. The very, very bad touch kind. And as for my title defense against Thad, there was no way I could have predicted his father would interfere. And a lesser man would have staked claim on that victory anyway. But not me. I told Thad Duke, the former best friend who stabbed me in the back, that he should have won. Because it was the truth.

I know you probably aren’t familiar with the concept, but that’s called having character.

And ain’t it just rich that Lycana of all people wants to cast aspersions on my character when she’s a self admitted B.I. who has assaulted countless people, worshipped the Baphomet aka Discount Satan, and conducted all manner of tortures and homicides in her free time. Like any of that compares to me calling some jerk a stack of refried poo, like there is even the remotest comparison between the two.

Oh, but she wants to complain about me railing on and on about “evil Lycana”. About how all I ever have for her are unkind words.

Corey cups his hands to his mouth.

YOU TRIED TO BURN A MAN TO DEATH YOU SIMPLETON!

Your entire early career was predicated on brutal ambushes!

You get off on sadism!

You tried to bring a cult to the XWF!

YOU TRIED TO BURN A MAN DEATH! That one needed to go twice.

And you have the gall to boohoo about me BULLYING you! Corey Nelson’ing it up in the XWF….


[Image: st,small,507x507-pad,600x600,f8f8f8.jpg]


….by calling pieces of human trash PIECES OF HUMAN TRASH!

You see Lycana, you have this all so very, very wrong. I don’t BULLY people. I expose people like you to the light of day. I make them feel STUPID. I make them feel INADEQUATE. Because that is what you savages deserve. It’s called taking a stand for what’s right, again, another concept I’m sure you’re unfamiliar with.

And I’m not going to stop. So long as the XWF is flush with stupid, self absorbed quim like you Lycana, this linguistic scimitar….
He waggles his tongue and points to it…shall not be stayed!

Corey seems to mellow out a bit now. The kids have trickled off somewhere else to play.

I’m also still waiting on your response to my offer. Did you forget already? The whole “I lose I go away forever/You lose you have to suffer a day doling out soup to the less fortunate” thingy? Again, ‘cha, you don’t have nearly as much to lose in that equation as me, chica. So what’ll it be? I know you don’t want to answer that. Because doing so is essentially committing yourself to actually being a decent person for a day, a prospect that I’m sure pains you worse than any werewolf bite or miscast Magic Missile.

Corey looks around, making doubly sure all the kids have moved on.

Fuck it. How’d that do it for ya, ya scrub brained BDSM loving, living shitsock trendwhore? There, now there’s some bullying you can write home about.

Ha! CAUGHT YOU!

A curly haired little moppet bursts out from nowhere!

OH DAMN IT! I mean GOSH DARN IT!

It’s ok Corey. I think Lycana’s a big fat who a with her spread wide open so she could .

Corey looks dumbfounded. Finally, he musters a reply.

You’re grounded!

You’re not my dad!

The kids storms off in a huff.

Jesus fucking Christ, kids these days…

The feed cut, leaving Corey alone atop the play castle. Corey’s comedic air faded almost immediately. The camera crew began to assemble their gear. Corey was vaguely aware of one of them complimenting him on the shoot, but it was so far away.

His attention was focused on the children, now playing in the distance. He imagined them forming a house. His breath caught in his throat and he put his head against the cool plastic of the castle as his eyes brimmed with tears.

In the end, it was a reminder of why he fought.

Before


Riding on a high of pure panic stricken adrenaline, Corey rose up out of the tub just as Agent Sumpter was drawing a bead on him. Grabbing Sumpter’s wrist, Corey forced the next shot to go high and right, missing him but leaving him with a tinny whine in his ear from the discharge of the gun. Corey threw a punch at Sumpter, striking true and knocking him back against the vanity. Sumpter started to level his weapon at Corey again, but Corey was able to deftly kick it out of his hands.

However, he failed to predict what happened next. Disarmed, Sumpter dove at Corey, wrapping his arms around his midsection and driving him to the bathroom floor. The agent must have had at least a good 70 pounds on him, not to mention maintaining a gym regiment that kept him in fighting shape. Sumpter mounted Corey and started raining down blows on him, with Corey doing his best to cover up and deflect. Finally, a solid shot to the side of Corey’s head stunned him. Sumpter rolled off, crawling for the gun, and Corey was able to see through the fog just long enough to grab his opponent’s ankle and pull. Sumpter’s fingertips touched the weapon before his momentum shifted.

Corey, wobbly on his feat from the impressive shot, stomped down on the back of Sumpter’s head, and then he proceeded to kick the gun into the hallway. But that’s when he noticed Pan.

Pan was bleeding out into the tub. Corey couldn’t discern where the wound was, but the young man had slipped below the water and was drowning. Pan! Corey called out, rushing to the tub and scooping him up from under his arm pits. Pan chortled, but said nothing. Pan, talk to me!

C-Cor…. A meak effort was all he could muster. Suddenly, Corey felt himself being jerked back, once again in Sumpter’s clutches. The agent was trying to put Corey in a headlock and gouge his face with his prosthetic hook, but Corey shot out with a few vicious elbow strikes that got him to break it up. Sumpter then eyes the hallway, intent on finding the gun. Corey pursued, meeting him again in the hall. Sumpter threw a left with his hooked hand, which Corey ducked and followed up with a rising knee strike that tagged Sumpter in the chest. The agent gasped a bit, stumbling back and kicking the gun. He reached for it, but Corey dove and grappled his arm, using his momentum to arm drag Sumpter away from the firearm.

Sumpter rolled into an end table in the hall, shattering it, but still gamely rose to his feet.

I need to put this bastard down.

Corey came for him again, catching him as he rose and landing a side kick to his temple. Sumpter groaned in pain and fell over, but still hadn’t been lost to unconsciousness. So Corey launched out with another kick to his face, shattering his nose and finally putting him out of commission. Picking up the gun, Corey returned to the bathroom. Pan’s eyes were shut, but he was still leaning up in the tub, a good sign. Afraid to remove the young man from the tub, Corey got in with him, his feet stewing around in the bloodied water. He checked the pulse. It was weak. Corey went for his cell phone and pulled it out, cursing to find it shattered and waterlogged. So, he ran into the hall and started to search Sumpter, sighing in relief to find that he had a functioning cellphone. The phone was locked, but still allowed for 911 calls, which he prompty dialed.

Hello! I have an emergency, someone’s been shot!

[Image: CoreySig6A.png?width=270&height=406]
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[-] The following 10 users Like Corey Smith's post:
"Loverboy" Vinnie Lane (01-08-2022), JimCaedus (01-08-2022), Lycana (01-10-2022), Marf (01-08-2022), MrBig (01-08-2022), NorthKoreanWarCriminal (01-08-2022), Peter Vaughn (01-11-2022), Robert "The Omega" Main (01-13-2022), Theo Pryce (01-08-2022), Thunder Knuckles™ (01-08-2022)




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