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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » Leap of Faith (July 13th) PPV RP Archive
Gilmour Still Sucks/Going Mad for Madness!/The Black Circle Owns You All (RP 6)
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#MemeQueen Luca Torchwick Offline
Waves don't die.



XWF FanBase:
Women and gay men

(physically attractive male on every level; can seduce you; that disarming smile; those bedroom eyes)


#1
07-12-2013, 06:57 PM

Act 9: So, Paul Heyman Walks... That's the Punchline

The scene opens up to me, the narrator, going back to my normal routine. Deal with it. Oh yeah, Luca! What's he up to right about now?

Standing in front of video camera's lens, a gun that looks eerily similar to the one Sid Feder shot him in the arm with in his left hand. He places the barrel of the gun up to his mouth. Not as if he's planning on shooting himself, more like he's using it as a microphone.

"So, Monday Madness. Give it up for the longest running reign of perpetual disappointment in XWF history! Wait a second no, that can't be right. Cyren's eighty fifth, eighty sixth, and ninety second runs with the fed have that distinct title under lock and key. Sorry Heyman, looks like you're going to have to try a lot harder to make a noteworthy impact on this company! Well, aside from being the second FATTEST person to be under contract at this point in time...

You might get some competition if you try to take the prestigious title of 'Fattest Ass' in the company though. I heard Gilmour's not too eager to give up the only thing he actually earned himself. Well, if you can say eating a diet that mostly consisted of Twinkies and Whoppers for thirty fucking years straight is an accomplishment, that is.

I digress, because Peter Gilmour's BMI is a matter for another day! I digress, because I'm Peter Gilmour, and that's my only transitional phrase! I digress, I digress. Am I saying the word for the process by which food is converted into substances that can be absorbed and assimilated by the body. It is accomplished in the alimentary canal by the mechanical and enzymatic breakdown of foods into simpler chemical compounds right?

No Gilly, that's digestion. You'd think you would get that right after all the BOXES and BOXES of Twinkies Wallace pays you in end up down your throat. You've been stuffed fatter than the Thanksgiving turkey that you dream about. Hell, I'm starting to think that Wallace likes his lapdogs fat. Who would think he would be a chubby chaser...

Not that there's anything wrong with that, mind you.

You see, I'm not like Peter Gilmour. I don't have plenty of vices in my own right, then slam others for the possibility of other vices existing at all. You know what Gilmour, because you want me to say it aloud so you don't sound as stupid as you look...

I'm John Madison's lover!

There, what are you going to say in response?

What can you say?

I said it loud and clear, pride in my voice. How can you combat me now? Are you just going to say 'HAHA I'M RIGHT!' like the moron you really are, so oblivious to the sarcasm and bullshit in that statement? However, let's look at it as if it were the honest to God truth, shall we?

It's irrelevant.

Just like everything you say about me. That I'm cocky, a douchebag, that I talk too much, the whole nine yards. In all honesty, I don't talk much more than you do, I just have the god damn common courtesy to space it out. I don't expect people to have the attention span you require people to have just to hear the nonsense pour out of your mouth like a baking soda vinegar volcano."


Luca takes the the barrel of the gun from under his mouth and aims it at the lens. He places his right hand on top of his left, and looks down the sights. With no warning, he pulls the trigger. A loud bang is heard, but there's no bullet fired.

"Now, onto the trainwreck known as Monday Madness. The show that constantly churns out substandard shows, week in and week out, unless I'm involved on the card in some way, shape, or form. Come on Heyman, you can see that through your unjustly inflated ego, can't you? That I'm the big money draw that you NEED to get your third rate show off the fucking ground.

I mean, totally to brag, but I can get my head shoved into a toilet and make it look appealing. I'm surprised that after that happened, people weren't eager to pull off the same thing to try to copy me. Because, that's all I see coming out of the current Madness roster. Allow me to present you with some choice examples, if I may...

CM Punk. The man damn near stole all of my insults to John Austin and tried to use things I would say to myself! However, he couldn't get away with being Luca Arzegotti lite when the real thing was saddled in on this roster with the sole intent on making the show watchable. Where is he now, huh? YOUR former European champion is off in some rathole jail, believe me, I know the type, furthermore HUMILIATING everything you worked hard for. Y'know, the thing I do when you send your 'best' after me? Yeah, maybe we shoulda offered that guy Duke's spot in the Circle. On second thought, why didn't Unknown Mystery swoop in and snatch that young, promising talent up and make their own Luca, so Madison wouldn't be the only one proud of the steps they took to actually secure the future of this company, because that's right. Only Madison has left a legacy worth a damn, and that legacy is me. After he's gone and retired, I'll still be here picking up where he leaves off.

Hunter Payne, who tries stealing my way of talking about people, but can't even stand up to Unknown Soldier. I've said too much about him though, gotta let the shithead trios champs get their licks in too.

Add that with all the others on the roster, who are so inspired by my shtick so much that they copy bits of my MO subconsciously into their mediocre performances. I'll bet you five dollars that when Ion gets back from the land of shame, he'll magically start not giving a fuck. Just like JTC did when I called him out a month ago. How fucking pathetic, is it not? Why stop there? I have so much more to say about your show, Heyman. Strap all three hundred plus pounds of fat in, this is going to a bumpy ride...

I take the week off, and what gets booked for the main event on Monday Madhouse? Hunter Payne vs. Matt Lennox. Do you hear that, Heyman? That's the sound of the crowd going absolutely...

...Mild.

For the biggest match on the card, the crowd couldn't be bothered to care in the slightest. Why is that? Because neither of the braindead halfwits in the match can get the crowd into them at all. You can buy all of Payne's bullshit about being a big deal to the Hispanic community, but you can't ignore the general vibe that no one gives a shit about him, I can even feel all my enthusiasm drain when I talk about him. He's that bad, I can't make him interesting. Gee, way to pick a winner! I think John Austin, the antithesis of charisma got a bigger reaction than your MAIN EVENT. Go ahead and reward those shit stains with more title shots, will ya?

Great job signing the BASKETBALL players, Paul. That's what you need to build a respectable WRESTLING product. Non wrestling douchefucks, that's what makes people tune into this train-

Fuck it, the twelve people who watch Madness probably love it.

Just like they also love Andrew Morrison. We all know you have a hard on for Sebastian Duke, but you don't need to employ talentless sacks of shit to imitate him and the beloved Messenger. Duke's schedule is a lot clearer now that he's been buried, lost his title, and all of his credibility. You can fire Braxton, Morrison, and all of those other 'dark' fucks now.

At least you pawned off Alex Shawn to Warfare, maybe I won't be as embarrassed to step foot in the door anymore. I can guarantee that that debuting cumslut Hunter Moore, as in, yay, Moore people named Hunter who suck! could take a shit in the ring, and it could beat Alex Shawn.

Okay, maybe that's a little harsh. Then again, that's what I do.

Not play nice with a bunch of ingrates who wouldn't be employed without me. So Paulie, just remember one thing.

Everytime you book me for a match with one of your top rookies, don't cry about it later when I humiliate them. When half of your roster runs off in anger after I show up more fucked up than Ion at that house show and get a title shot on a silver platter.

When Feder manages to scare off the rest of the roster.

When all you have for a show is six matches of Luca Arzegotti vs. Sid Feder, just remember.

You wanted this.

Heyman loves the Black Circle, he just doesn't want to admit it. He knows when he's already lost the war. The battles mean nothing, as this will inevitably be a win for Madison and myself. Feder can't stop that.

I could just toss a picture of a Ford at Duke, and he'd be too busy destroying that for sixty minutes.

Fuck you.

You WANTED this.

You love me.

You.

Are ours'."


He blows out the smoke that's no longer coming out of the barrel of the gun he fired earlier.

"All of you, are ours'. That isn't some conspiracy theory wikileaks bullshit. Listen to me, all of you.

The Black Circle owns all of your souls. That's the cost of being in the XWF, you've signed your souls to Satan. No Soldier, not SATAN!

You've all never been so fucking fucked in the entirety of your lives, as you were when the ink dried on the contract. We own everything you ever contribute to society from now on. And no, this isn't some new thing, we've owned souls for a long time.

Angelus, whenever you come back from saving your family or whatever, just remember that in one fluid motion that your family could die faster than you can save them. You follow what we tell you to do. Never go back on that, Angie. I do have to thank you, however. You made my career, if you wanna take credit for that coat hanger abortion. Great contribution.

We still own JP Corino's soul, turns out no one wants to buy that crybaby's essence. So, we just have him look after the especially slutty whores at Madison's mansion. He's also Madison's stress reliever, because he can't just go out and make a rookie kill himself, can he?

Well, he could, but...

Fuck it, it's more fun watching the ghost cry like a bitch.

Hey, maybe Heyman can book Neil Capra!

Who?

Exactly.

Christian Carter's head is still on Madison's wall. The first man to fall to the guillotine that we care to remember.

Cyren's ghost is around here somewhere...

The list goes on, and on, and on.

Sheckler, De Sade, Flynn, That stoner fuck Griffin something, Dexter Bale, Ann Thraxx, etc.

All of them still owe the Circle.

We plan on collecting.

Let it be known that Leap of Faith is only the beginning.

The beginning of the end.

How fucking cliche.

Allow me to shoot myself."


Luca pulls a different gun, as the other one was likely only filled with blanks. He places it near his temple, and pulls the trigger...

...And out comes a small flag that says:

"Fuck you all."

"Good day.

I said good day.

I also said, fuck sign off phrases.

Also, fuck you Neonero.

Also, fuck your team with Flynn.

Related, fuck Flynn.

Also related, I digress."

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