OOC: There's a few coding errors that I tried to fix but when I did they fucked everything up more, I don't know just deal with it. Sorry.
Sack to the Future
Be it in the bedroom or ring, Dick, get's it on!
As I wake from a drunken night of rambunctious fuckery. Crawling out the pile of naked bodies like a sexy zombie raising from the grave and standing above my conquests like I'm on the cover of DOOM. I Dick, home-wrecker, Powers tippy-toe over the naked bodies of men, women and all of that technicolor rainbow in-between making my way to the hall grabbing my finest pastel pink silk kimono which slides onto my herculean bod as if placed over my chiselled muscles by heavenly cherubs. Then make my way down the glorious spiral staircase, my fat horse cock making a thud on each step as I walk down; a bassy thud, as if Viking war drums are announcing my arrival into the foyer! No surprise with the World Serpent swinging between my legs.
As I walk into my very own gym, complete with basketball court, I grab a bottle of water and take a long sip. As the icy water trickles down my swan-like neck, by Adam's apple throbbing I almost choke on the water as I look towards the 8K TV covering the wall. As a major stockholder in XWF, I have it playing in the place I visit the least at all times and to my shock it shows Bobby Bourbon holding the TV Title aloft and a, very well done, graphic of myself and him facing off.
"The shit balls is this?"
I say, to fucking no one.
"Which moron gave that Neanderthal a title? Let alone the Television Championship! Now I have to see him every week!?"
"Every fortnight, Dick."
My manager, Riley Reed (not the pornstar, sick of clarifying) rudely interjects as he exercises on a rowing machine. I double take.
"He's in Fortnite too!? Nah, homie, that was meant to be ME!"
"No, Dick, fortnight as in every two weeks."
"Two weeks? ... Oh right, XWF is lame now. Keep forgetting. Still, why does he have it? And why am I taking it from him?"
Riley wipes sweat from his brow and steps off the rowing machine... Or is it a treadmill? I always get those confused, as well as every piece of exercise equipment. Exercise is a scam, just pay for the body you want. Morons.
"Perhaps you impressed at War Games."
I make a side nod.
"I always impress, Riley, it cums naturally to me. But I'm unsure of becoming Television Champion; there's only so much Dick any mortal can take before it ruins them forever."
Riley moves to close to me and takes one of my water bottles.
"Maybe it's time to start taking this wrestling business seriously, Dick. You certainly have a knack for it and it's clear you enjoy it more than just a hobby."
I place a hand on Riley's shoulder and flinch, removing it from his toad-like skin and wiping it on a nearby towel.
"Riley, you sweet dumb bitch, I'm not a wrestler. I'm just showing the world how easy it is! The fact that people dedicate blood, sweat and tears into this is embarrassing to say the least. Even if I don't win, I make an impact, I make it so people pay attention and absolutely adore what I do. No matter what I make a show, baby. I get the crowd in the palm of my damn hand; if I do this for a living, do you realize how boring my appearances will become? I'd be like every one of those losers on TV. Like Bobby Bourbon whose been going on a downward spiral for years, barely being kept afloat by Thunder Knuckles who is pretty cool, not gonna lie, but this TV run of his is just going to expose that the guy's grasping at the wispy grey pubes of a wrinkled sack. Even Raion Kido who is on fire right now will burn out eventually and become another guy who wrestles every other week screaming about some lame cliché he's tryna promote. Jesus, look at Charlie Nickles for Christ's sake, man started hot and now look at him! He'd be dead if I didn't push him off the track in our match last year and that will forever be my greatest regret."
I move past Riley whilst talking and hop onto the machine that looks like a bicycle, I believe they call it "The non-moving penny-farthing" and sit down cross-legged whilst drinking my water.
"Well, Dick, perhaps you could spice up the game so to speak. Instead of following the same steps these wrestlers have walked before you, you keep things hot and fresh?"
I roll my baby blues.
"Dude, I don't think you understand, I put on 5-star matches every fucking time! But this "job" is so soul-crushing and the fans are so fickle, that when I keep putting on 5-star matches, those shitters will still get bored. Because wrestling sucks and the fans are worse."
I point down to Riley who comes over and moves the pedals for me as I relax on the seat, I adjust my junk so my one-eyed purple people eater doesn't trap him in some Medusa's gaze.
"This is a much more bleak outlook than I'm used to seeing from you Dick."
"Eh." I look out the window for a moment as rain hits the glass. "I suppose since Queen Elizabeth died I'm finding everything pretty macabre."
Riley gives an empathetic smirk as he briefly looks up to me.
"Yes, truly hurt me too."
I clench a mighty fist and sneer.
"I was so close to hitting that! When my husband's out the picture she said! Then fucking covid had to go blue ball me! Now look at her! Dead as fuck! And I'm kinky but I ain't digging her up kinda kinky."
"Dick, show some respect please!"
I'm confused for a moment before remembering.
"Oh yeah, my bad, forgot you where from that dentist free hellhole."
Riley shakes his head, I resist the urge to kick him from this show of disrespect towards me as he is in mourning. I sip my water again looking back at the TV still playing XWF, the stock ticker sliding at the the bottom showing pretty healthy numbers for once.
"Back to Relentless... Whose dumb idea was that? Like 80s, 90s, Noir I get. Decent themes. But they'll basically doing a clusterfuck of dates this time. And an alternate 2015 I guess? Jesus, should have done Cyberpunk, what did I tell them Riley?"
"You told them to do Cybersex."
"Hot ass Cyberpunk!" I say ignoring Riley. "That anime came out on Netflix the SAME DAMN MONTH! We would have made a killing, but NOOOOOOOOOOOO. I'm Atticus and I like Back to the Future! Look at these graphics I made! Totally worked hard and not just stole assets from stock image sites like a hack! Oh, I'm Theo Pryce and Back to the Future is my favorite beep boop bop I'm a dumb robot. Then Vinnie comes in adding nothing like usually and talks about some other shows that no one has heard of... Like Madness, whatever the fuck that is... Losers. Like the movies are cool, don't get me wrong but aren't we gonna get sued just using this stuff? They're not even trying to be discreet!"
"I like it, it's fun."
"Fun, sure! Legal, questionable. I remember watching Back to the Future when it came out... Wait, no I don't! I'm 29! ... Shut up!"
"Dick it's just you and me." Somewhere an XWF Cameraperson sinks lower into a vent. "You don't need to lie about your age."
I sigh.
"I went there on a date, Molly Hendricks. Dynamite bod, fiery red hair, great smile, enormous bazongas. Most popular girl in school, way out of my league, I wasn't always the silver-tongued, gold-plated God who stands before you y'know. Was actually kind of a loser, a lot like you are now, Riley."
"That's comforting to know, Dick."
Kinda added an extra emphasis on Dick there. Hm.
"Things where going great! We laughed, was enjoying the movie, then an idea popped into my head."
Riley stops pedalling for me and looks up.
"Dick, you didn't do something that was acceptable at the time but could now be considered "rapey" did you?"
"Partially, and I regret my actions but not just for what happened next. As it was the 80s an awesome yet looking back a truly terrible era, I decided to do the ol' popcorn trick, as was the style at the time. Hiding my actions with my trapper keeper, I tore a hole in the bottom of the popcorn and placed my still growing member inside. However, I did not realize that this salty, buttered popcorn hid a dastardly trap. A single, miniscule kernel somehow lodged itself in a place I'd rather not say."
"Wait what?"
"Riley, have you ever had to pass a kidney stone?"
"Oh Jesus Christ, Dick."
"Imagine using your cock as a vacuum and sucking one back in. As my boner grew, this atom sized thermonuclear bomb travelled down and I jerked up from the pain, spilling the popcorn and revealing myself to Molly as I wretched in pain on the sticky floor. And in a desperate cry I screamed."
I look wistfully at the window as my teenage voice echoes my next words.
"My peepee is on fire." my peepee is on fire
A single tear rolls down my cheek.
"That day ruined me; any chance of popularity I once could have had was dashed before me. I was an outcast, the kids called me "Kernel Saunders" account of there being a kernel in my cock. I tell you, if I could go back and change that day I would in a heartbeat."
Man I'm good at foreshadowing. Riley stands to his feet and hands me his handkerchief which I refuse as I know where it's been. Then, a lightning bolt strikes my Mjolnir-esque cock! ... I'm on a real Norse kick today, must have been from all the Scandinavians I boned. I stand to my feet remembering War Games! Not the shitty one but the good one, where I was a captain! Where I had a flux capacitor and travelled to Woodstock!
"Riley! We need to go back!"
"Back where, Dick?"
"To 1985 Riley! Something's gotta be done about my sweet meat!"
As the Back to the Future theme plays in my head and now your heads, unless you haven't watched them like a weirdo, we fade to black.
"Hey slackers."
I say, decked out in the finest 80s garbs, looking like I rolled out of Miami Vice. Coked up as they were too. I stand partially out of my DickLoean at an awkward angle because of the stupid doors and adjust myself with some groans to get into a cool pose. As the clouds part exposing the moon, a cummy fog rolls in and makes the night all atmospheric and shit. As atmospheric as an empty parking lot can be anyway.
"Bet you didn't expect this, right? I know! Full of surprises for a pay-per-view called Back to Relentless, but hey! If the higher-ups want to have zero imagination, then I'll play along. Plus, get to fix a fuck-up, so win-win. Now, I know what some of you are thinking. Dick Powers? Why should he get a shot of the TV title!? He isn't even a real wrestler and is barely around!"
"Well to answer that question."
"Where the fuck are the people stepping up to take on Bourbon?"
"You cowards can try and throw shade all you want but the simple explanation is, you're not good enough. I come in, fuck and leave for a month or so and these bitches are still throwing gold my way like they owe me alimony. Now all I gotta do is make Bobby suck on this cock for 15 minutes and leave his mouth like a day-care to get a shiny accessory and a bit more moolah? Too easy, dude! Bourbon sucks now! Dude's been off the rails for months, mother fuckers basically been laying the tracks at his feet and sadly for him, he ain't got no flying McGuffin to save him from the inevitable nose dive off the cliff."
"Fat fuck hasn't been good since he threw away the mask and sulked like a bitch. Curly-haired cum rag hasn't been exciting since he won that crown he's done FUCK ALL with. That sour-faced doughy shitstain couldn't even perform at War Games! Even with all his shit talk, Mongo couldn't eliminate more people than ME! And I'm not a real wrestler! I'm basically an expensive escort Vinnie brings out to make the XWF hotter."
"Oh BuT i'Ve ElImInAtEd LoTs Of PeOpLe BeFoRe"
"Shut up you yeast-infection, no one gives a shit what you've done before. Even if you did act like a beast at War Games. Sorry, I meant bitch."
I high five a spectral, ghostly hand, most likely Bourbon's considering I just fucking murdered him with that one.
"Wrestling fans only care about what you do now and right now all you're doing is fucking up your chances of winning back the tag belts and being yet another mediocre TV Champ. Give me 100% champ, I wanna see the Sultan of Smack Talk and not the Poohbah of Poorly Executed One-Liners, the Regent of Recycled Trash Talk, the whatever the fuck you are now. I don't give a fuck what you do, all I want to do is give these poor people a show they deserve, ONE that you haven't been delivering for months now. I actually want to see you give a shit and not just rely on Thunder Knuckles, bless that poor man, to carry your pimpled ass. Shit, take a look at Kido and how well he's doing, where's your poorly written Power Ranger clones to do shenanigans with? What was there names? Mushmouth and Danger Lass?"
"... I'm thinking of the right guy here, yeah? You had like a super villain team or something? It was terrible but in like a fun way? Like it made you look like a joke, yeah, but it was the best thing you've ever done."
"... Am I thinking of the right guy? Because no way someone who had ALL that would ever fall so hard into being this generic Ghost Tank strong man."
"You know, now that I think about it maybe it wasn't you. Would have had to be someone with charisma and a dash of aspiration. Ah, nevermind then."
"Whatever, back to sex puns."
"It's fitting that we're gonna have it out in the Wild West because I've got a huge Sheriff Woody to stick in your Toy Barn! Get you on all fours as my delicate fingers pull back those tufts of curly locks and establish a new railroad in your gorge; shame you're not wearing the mask anymore, could have made a night out of. Could have brought whips but with the era that may be insensitive to people around, so instead I'll just stick spit and your squeal of pleasure as I treat you like a pitbull rodeo around the town. Speaking of insensitive, Calvary vs Indians? Native Americans guys, c'mon it's 2022... Well, it is right now. Pretty soon I'll be back in 1985 fixing some mistakes, may hang around a little while, pick up some new coke and New Coke. Get it?"
"Oh, and I did find out something interesting about you Bobby, probably the only interesting thing about you at this moment in time. You where born in 1985! What a coincidence!"
"So little ol' me figured to fill two holes with one shocker."
"Not only am I gonna make you my bitch in front of a town of rootin' tootin' cowboys and natives."
"Not only am I going to fuck up your life, Bourbs."
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