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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » "Savage Saturday Night" RP Board
Who I Am.
Author Message
Prince Adeyemi Offline
The Heir Apparent
TITLE - Tag Champion



XWF FanBase:
Traditionalists

(has an old school wrestling mentality; no nonsense; less appealing to some younger fans)


#1
10-28-2022, 10:47 PM

[Image: giphy.gif?cid=790b7611fb8c4d24ebd39a817a...y.gif&ct=g]

Isaiah King Corporation Said:The following is a work of art, a visceral experience, an unparalleled masterpiece produced by Isaiah King Corporation. It will be best enjoyed along with its musical accompaniment and your full attention, any less and you should be ashamed of yourself. Try to keep your hand(s) out of your pants, if you can - you have been warned.





Play it.



Bzzzt. Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you, Isaiah. Your screen lights up into a familiar boxing gym, the one we all saw from last week's throwback VHS tape. The camera quality is obviously better this time, while the walls look visibly aged, yellowed with a tinge of mould. Some posters are still intact, their corners peeling off the wall though. One in particular is messily ripped, the glue leaving the back of the paper stuck on. You can make out a faint "Jeremiah" and "K**G". You find yourself in Isaiah's childhood gym, The King's Court, 10 years after the events of the flashback.

The camera continues to pan through the gym and you realise amidst the old, there's sprinkles of new. The punching bags seem freshly orange. Dumbbells glistening and without rest. A rack with weights going up to painful numbers. This gym was very much still in use.

The camera finally pans onto the singular ring in the middle of the gym. That's right folks, the ring where Isaiah asserted his animalistic dominance on that punk ass Jere- oop, sorry. The ring doesn't look to new, but in it are 4 chairs organised into a diamond - just one occupied. There are stage lights strewn around the corners to shine to the center. Your eyes catch the tantalising frame of Isaiah King.

Ladies and Gentleman, welcome to the beautiful Isaiah's very own, one of a kind experience.. The King's Court.

Isaiah is in his workout gear, towel draped across his shoulders and hair slick with sweat. His muscles bulge with all sorts of acid buildup and his eyes stare dead-pan into the camera as it comes closer to him. With a blink, those same eyes fill with life as he addressed the XWF faithful, his faithful.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to The King's Court, a curated, one of a kind experience where you get some one-on-one time with me.

Welcome particularly to my childhood home, my current home, the place where I go from greatness to greatness. This ring has been christened with my blood, washed with it, and disinfected with it after. My juices, let's say, are all over this place.

Lest we get too crude, as everyone in this unfortunate business seems to, let's shift your attention back to tomorrow's Savage. Let's shift your attention back to the fight for Savage's premiere title. A title so weakly protected weekly, it's been offered up to newcomers like me, inconsistent midcarders and unhinged addicts.  Honestly, that much feels very much like a Harlem gym on Friday evening.

Quite honestly I'm not sure what's going on with those two. Perhaps  they've sufficiently established who they are to you fans and don't feel a need to increase their marketability - perhaps they don't give two shits about the cheering fans, perhaps they're simply satisfied with who you think they are, who they think they are... Who they truly are.

A museum-going, carnival-enjoying... Rich boy with a butler who is satisfied with commonality and mediocrity. Satisfied with an in ring and out of ring inconsistency. Satisfied with a lack of focus and drive and instead showing his dull little head wherever and whenever he pleases. Is that who you are?

At least he treats the sport with some respect. Unlike our... And it pains me to say this, champion. The furthest thing from respect, class, authority or athleticism. Just an animal with no regard for the fans, his opponent on his own well-being. You're no better than the junkie on the street, cooked up on whatevers cheapest and enjoying a physical strength beyond the regular human while taking 12 taser shots and 8 bullets to the torso. We get it, you're superhuman, take your methed up body and go live your life.

Just don't dirty the ring you're in. And sure as hell don't drag down the entirety of the Savage locker room because of it.

Champions rise to the challenge, the rise to the top and the carry their divisions along with them. Not whatever it is you've been doing for however many sad years you've had in this business. You're a sideshow, that's who you are.

Maybe HGH can take his butler on a date to see you, but let's keep it out of our regular Savage programming shall we?

Let me tell you who you are, who I am, who we are.

Somehow you've weaseled your way to the title. And somehow HGH and I have been handed an opportunity to face you for it. I don't assume to know how this place decides who is worthy of a title but we three sure as hell haven't proven worthiness.

Yes, all three of us.

Yet, of all three of us only one of us actually know who they are. Only one of us is sober enough to see who he is and where he's headed. Only one of us is driven enough to know what being a champion really means. And only one of us is talented enough to take this roster to bigger, better heights.

The XWF has history, it has prestige, and it has a proven record of entertainment and a long line of talented wrestlers who've gotten us there. But you two... You two aren't it.

These days this federation feels... A little limp. Champions defend their titles wildly and without show or excitement. Wrestlers seem more concerned with personal skirmishes and vendettas than putting on solid matches, athletic fights. There's a stench of averageness leaking out this great business and you two reek of it particularly.

Like slowly rotting lepers who infect everything around it, your disease of mediocrity and uncleanliness has seeped into every brick of the XWF.

That's why the XWF has needed something fresh. That's why they handed me a contract and perhaps that's why they've decided to slip me into this match so soon.

This company has a janitor but it seems like he could use some help.

I'll start the clean out tomorrow, with both of you the first to go. If you have half a brain cell to know what's good for business, you'll leave for good.

If your pride won't allow it, I'll let you clean yourselves up to follow me. Don't worry, I can handle the burden.

I'll beat your sorry asses till you're in tears, take everything you have from under you, and then pick you right back up and make you better. Trust daddy.

This place could use a cleaner, it could use a doctor, but what it really needs is a King.

And that's who I am. It's future king, it's heir apparent.

If you'd like to be part of the XWFs revival, I'll see you Saturday."


The camera zooms out slowly, revealing the three empty stools once again, before something knocks against the camera and drops it to the floor. With a bounce the camera settles, the visage of Isaiah is sideways now.

Oh-oh, the next bit isn't for you... Yet. Toodles!

Black.






OOC: If you'd like to give me feedback for this or any of my work, you can do so here.

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