+- X-treme Wrestling Federation (https://xwf99.com)
+-- Forum: Warfare Boards (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=6)
+--- Forum: Warfare RP Board (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=12)
+--- Thread: Stories From the Backyard (New Beginnings) (/showthread.php?tid=20410)
Stories From the Backyard (New Beginnings) - Christopher Isles - 06-18-2015
[PLAY]
[Christopher and Dustin are in front of a house that shows its age, as multiple cracks and plants grow from the wall. A dog can be heard scratching the door from the inside, wanting out to meet his owner because he's been gone for a little while. Dustin has shoved his hand into his pocket in search for keys. Christopher is seen grinning, knowing that his buddy's dog loves him to death and adores the belly rubs he gives it. Before the licking can even start, however, Dustin appears to be having trouble finding his keys.]
Christopher: Come on, brah, how deep are your pockets?
[Dustin looks over to his best friend, who still has that stupid grin on his face.]
Dustin: They're pretty fuckin' deep, man.
Christopher: Deep enough for an alternate universe, brah?
Dustin: Where everything is made out of keys?
[Chris and Dustin can be heard chuckling at his little joke. Dustin's dog is heard barking now, causing the laughter to stop.]
Dustin: Dammit Max, I'm getting the damn keys. Give me a minute, will ya?
[Dustin manages to pull out his key chain and begins to shuffle through the keys to find out which one was the right one. Chris, knowing that his buddy knows what key opens the door, snatches the keys from his hand.
Christopher: Why ya stallin', brah? Not excited to let your dog jump ya again?
Dustin: Chris, you know I do this shit to get myself ready for the pounce.
Christopher: Well I've been ready before you shoved your hand down your pants like that. Play with yourself in the house, not in public, brah.
[Chris puts the key inside the lock and turns it. Dustin grimaces and appears to stiffen up, just waiting for his dog to knock him down with one mighty leap. Chris puts his hand on the knob and flings the door open, allowing Max, the energetic Bullmastiff, to jump onto his owner, which makes him hit the ground hard. Max proceeds to lick his owner's face like a popsicle, which causes Dustin to spit out his dog's saliva from his mouth when he has a brief second to breathe. Chris, the unhelpful man he is, just stands there and laughs to himself.]
Christopher: Ya know, I'd ask you to show me to the guest room, bu'cha seem to be busy with something else at the moment. So I'll just go ahead and make myself a sandwich in the kitchen until this is done.
[He then walks inside his friend's house. Dustin, powerless to stop his dog, has no choice but to take the licking his dog is giving him. This footage continues to play for a few seconds before fading into a different scene.]
[The moment we fade back in Christopher, he is seen in a poor man's dining room eating what appears to be a ham and cheese sandwich. He looks like he's halfway done with it by the time it fades in completely. Chris can be heard chewing quite loudly, as if he's eating with his mouth open or the bread is soaking wet. Just as he's about to take a massive bite of the sandwich, Max jumps up and steals the rest of it. Dustin can be heard in the background laughing his ass off while Chris' eyes appear to be bulging out of their sockets. Max just eats the rest of the sandwich up while Chris watches. Dustin manages to calm himself enough to address his rather surprised friend.
Dustin: That's what you get for not helping me from my mutt!
Christopher:...You owe me a new sandwich, brah.
Dustin: I don't owe you shit, brah! The only thing you're owed is a licking from Max since you weren't there when he was done!
Christopher: Your dog is such a fucking scoundrel.
Dustin: Yeah, and that's why I adopted him. He might need a lot of attention, but when he isn't being scratched by everyone, the payoff is sweet.
[Max swallows Chris' sandwich after Dustin finishes talking about him. The dog looks up at Dustin, panting his tongue all the while. Dustin scratches behind his ear and back.]
Dustin: Who's my little klepto? That's right, it's you!
[Chris puts on a smile and shakes his head, knowing that his friend's praise for this dog would only result in more malicious acts at Max's paws. He then stands up and looks at his friend, who is still giving his dog a good rubbing.]
Christopher: You going to show me where I'm going to be sleeping or do I have to open every door in the house to find it?
Dustin: Yeah I will. Just give me a minute, alright? Max is taking up all my attention and he won't leave me alone until he nips me.
[Max then nips him on his left hand, signaling him to stop. Dustin pulls his hand back and groans a little. Max then runs upstairs for reasons only known to dogs. Dustin shakes his hand to ease the pain of the bite.]
Christopher: Alright, you fucking pussy, gonna show me my room now?
Dustin: Have you ever been bitten by a dog? That shit fucking hurts, brah!
Christopher: Whatever, dude.
[Chris starts walking down the hallway in search for the guest room. Dustin follows him just a couple of feet behind him.]
Dustin: Seriously, brah! That shit feels like you're getting stabbed forty two knives!
[We see the both of them walk away from sight as the scene fades to something different.]
Christopher: Damn, dude, did I travel back to the 1950's? We have one racist bigot that won't shut up about seeing people in any other shade than white in his monochrome vision. We also have a man who just wants to be respected for his abilities and not be discriminated by some idiots that can't seem to look past the skin. Lastly, you have me, a man who doesn't care about color but will more than likely be shunned for not calling him a jungle bunny. Seriously, did I enter some alternate timeline where Martin Luther King never got shot and Civil Rights never happened because of it?
Dustin: Nah, brah, Peter is just an idiot who hasn't really had a sensible thought in his life.
Cristopher: Yeah, you're right. Knowing him, he probably thinks Sandman's crucifixion and Shockmaster's debut were five star moments in all of wrestling. Thinking about those moments makes me cringe.
[Chris rubs his forehead, reliving some terrible moments wrestling on YouTube.]
Christopher: You know, I'd like to be pseudo-political and all that shit, but I have a match to focus on. Coming off my first loss, which I admit, I kinda deserved, I find myself further down the card facing off against a rapper and a fat fuck who hears the voices of both God and Satan, recently defeated a man who had a grand total of three matches and decided to go after the Universal and Tag titles, and isn't all there, if his recent interactions with everyone else in the roster would prove. Maybe dying takes out more brain cells than muscle mass.
Dustin: The fat white guy has muscle mass?
Christopher: You wouldn't think, ya know? I mean, if his lard and donuts diet isn't killing him, the constant shame of always being proven wrong will.
Dustin: Has he ever really believed he was wrong?
Christopher: Not to my knowledge. He only hears half of the shit we tell him ever since the only fighting Doctor in this federation bit off his ear. I know that's not how ears work, but he sure as hell likes to believe that. Hell, hanging with the Professor of Idio-I mean Insanity sure doesn't make him look any better mentally. I'm sure it's gotten to the point where he'll believe almost anything anyone tells him.
Dustin: As long as it has nothing to do with religion, that is.
Christopher: Fucking southern radicals. Trying to prove them wrong is like trying to steal a fish from a bear. The fact that it's spreading over here certainly isn't helping matters much. Thanks, Gilmour. Really making people in California look good. I bet your ego is swelling as you're hearing this.
Dustin: Have you forgotten already, brah? The dude has no ego!
Christopher: Oh yeah! It's been bronzed, chopped off, made into a necklace, and can't even grow to please Peter's wife. I'm sure she's enjoying that present you gave her quite well. And by that, I mean it's probably in the dumpster waiting to be crushed, like the paperweight it is.
Dustin: You sure she accepted those vows willingly, dude? For all you know, he probably beat her ass into submission.
Cristopher: Oh, so she's suffering from Stockholm Syndrome and no one's willing to save her from this beast?
Dustin: Pretty much, yeah. That's what I'm guessing at least.
Christopher: I can only imagine his response, ya know? He'll probably call me a
and use some bullshit and childish comeback that only makes sense to him. So while I wait for him to come up with a 'clever' counter argument and his only friend in the federation with a working penis assembles the KKK to attack me and DMX after the show, like the punk ass pussies they are, I'll just wait for him and Mr. X to say what they must. I ain't going anywhere, you two. Not even all the hicks in Louisianna, Texas, Georgia, or whatever the most racist state in the United States might be can stop me on my personal quest to become a champion.Go ahead and try, brahs. If I wanted to be a champion as a little kid, beating a former and currently striving to be champions will only bring me closer. Why else would I take up backyard wrestling, anyways? For the money? The nonexistent chicks that want my tall and skinny ass? Nuh, uh. I'm in it for the glory. Try all you might, but win or lose, I'll always walk out knowing that I'm closer to becoming a champ.
[The scene then cuts to black.]