Repetitive - RP 2 - Printable Version +- X-treme Wrestling Federation (https://xwf99.com) +-- Forum:  RP Archive (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=113) +--- Forum: Archives (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=13) +---- Forum: "Anarchy Special" RP Board (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=10) +---- Thread: Repetitive - RP 2 (/showthread.php?tid=20466)

Repetitive - RP 2 - El Quardo - 06-22-2015 Monday, June 22, 2015. 4:32 pm A dark disc spins rhythmically on a very expensive looking turntable. A needle traces over its etched contours and deviations. Heavy beats fill the gym with motivation. "You might want to take it easy" cautiously blurted out Kenji. He was always one for a committed individual but sometimes one had to know their limits. "You want to save something for tonight". A metal bar, loaded with an undeterminable weight, spans the broad shoulders of El Quardo. His ripped torso eases towards the floor, hips and knees bending for a deep squat. Chorded muscles roar with agony during the repetitive feat. His sweat soaked mask clings to his chiseled features, an uncomfortable side effect of a trying exercise routine. A fine spray jettisons from the disguise of the bodybuilder's mouth as he barks "just twenty more". Kenji had worked with numerous world class athletes in his own triumphant career. Jindrax the Mammoth, Ronstoppable, Blue Haired Bison, Oblivion, just some of his pupils who excelled in the professional world of wrestling. All had followed his strict guidance to glory but not all could succeed. 'Success occurs when opportunity meets preparation' has always been his creed. "Some people just take it too far" he thought to himself as he witnessed the death defying daredevil steadily proceed with his limitless reps. Suddenly, a door explodes open into the room. Clarence the Thug, wheezing with spent breath, barges in. "EQ... BAD NEWS!!" sputters forth from the troubled goon. Returning to an upright position, El Quardo releases the mighty mass to the floor. The load crashes down with a dull thud, leaving deep impressions the finished floor. "Pardon me? El Quardo responds, daring his subordinate to continue. Hands on knees, winded and keeled over, Clarence's tale unfolds. "He's got everything... your real name... "Clarence spits out while trying to gain his composure. "Your ethnicity... where you currently live... where you have lived... any current lover... any current or past nagging injuries... he knows it all!" "Pardon me?" a crack of concern spills into Quardo's voice. He swiftly spun around to face his underling, his hand accidentally striking the record player. A screech of scratch vinyl screamed through the speakers. A repetitive beat skips "How?" "Apparently, Mr F'N Dominance, Trax, is a powerful man. Inside and outside the ring. He hired some people to do some digging and they hit pay dirt!" As the words sank in, El Quardo grasped his chest with a shaky hand. His heart began to race. His throat choked down short breaths. A feeling of the surreal crept over him. "Just breath" he thought to himself. He couldn't lose control. His training had prepared him for any physical confrontation but not this He thought it over carefully. Now that the initial shock was receding, his mind seemed to be ticking away coldly and precise, as it had before in tough situations. The non-stop loop of a melody continues in the background. "You ok, EQ?" said Clarence, trying to guess his boss' state through his fake facade. "Who?" asked Quardo, still collecting himself. "Well..." Clarence paused. He had been with El Quardo's task force for quite some time but never seen him quite like this. "Remember when we were at the restaurant the other night. The real fancy one where you brought those twins. The bathroom attendant, the one who kept asking you those weird and intrusive questions while you did your business on the throne. Him" It had seemed odd someone would be inquiring about his favourite color and his heritage while releiving himself. But he didn't know bathroom talk etiquette and didn't want to mess up his chance for a mint. It might also explain why the attendant sprayed the cologne in his eyes. "And..." continued Clarence. "And?" "The sweet, little girl guide who came to the door yesterday. Prodding about your cookie preference, your ex-girlfriends, a copy of a criminal check and offering you a free sample if you took your mask off" "Damn it! She took a deposit of $7.53 for those oatmeal cookies!" exclaimed the masked maniac. "The guy who said he would write your memoir and give you ghost writing credit. Another one". The stories he had shared. Chroncling his adventurous, world spanning career as a underwear model to his mastery of the pie eating contest to an intimite encounter with Susan Saradon, his life would be a marvel to behold on paper. "NO! Not my book! All the good ones got one" sighed Quardo. "Way to kick a man while he is down". The skipping track suddenly seems louder than before because of the mood. "Can someone turn off that broken record. It's just plain annoying" Kenjireaches for the once entertaining turntable. "What are we going to do about this sensitive material? Contemplating briefly, El Quardo remarks "If Trax wants me, he'll find out enough to knock his socks off tonight"