SHAMELESS - Printable Version

SHAMELESS - Printable Version

+- 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: SHAMELESS (/showthread.php?tid=26799)

SHAMELESS - Doctor Louis D'Ville - 02-28-2017

005

SHAME L E S S
Do as I say, Not as I do

continued from FAMELESS: The Dip into Obscurity

"Do you still keep that .38 behind the bar?"

"Yeah, it should still be there."

"Should?"

"The last time I checked it was, Dale!"

Dale shakes his head and pulls a pistol from the back of his pants.

"So HE could have it?"

"Excuse me?"

"If he got away from Ethan, who's to say he didn't search the bar and found it?"

She reaches down and pulls the gun from it's holster and holds it to her side with a distraught look.

"Was Ethan armed?"

"With just his slugger, I think.."

"You know how he is. It was your idea."

Dale squeezes his eyes shut and sighs.

"Fucking asshole. He couldn't just go down there and shoot the motherfucker? We should've just taken care of him at the bar."

He stares over to Tammy.

"I am sick and tired of cleaning blood off my bar, Dale. It's one thing to change bed sheets, but we do have an image to uphold here."

"Just shut the fuck up."

Dale pulls a cellphone from his pocket and ponders for a minute. Before he can do anything else, a pair of headlights heads their way and pulls into the parking lot out front.

"FUCK."

The three of them look at one another.

"Is that who I think it is?"

"Who the fuck else would it be?"

It's a newer looking truck in immaculate shape. It pulls up to the garage, parks, and out steps a tall silhouette. He reaches into the cab and pulls out a large cowboy hat and places it on his head before walking towards the door. The three inside all stand in attention as an older looking man approaches them and stands in the shadows. He pulls a large cigar from his inside pocket, places it between his teeth, and lights it as he has yet to make eye contact with any of them. He speaks in a tone that vibrates the floorboards and controls the pulse of your heart.

"So? Have we resolved the situation?"

Erik and Tammy both look over to Dale who also stands still in silence. The man finally looks up to them with a glare that would turn a weaker person to stone. He steps into the light and steps towards the three of them. His face is aged a bit, not too aweful bad. Late forties? Early fifties, maybe? He wasn't balding at all, with a thick crop of brown hair neatly combed to the side. He was dressed semi-formally, as if a farmer was escorting someone to a hoe down; tucked in flannel, tight jeans, boots, and the hat. A large scar, fully healed, stretches from the side of his ear, down his cheek, and to his neck.

"The shipment has been compromised. Has the situation. Been. Resolved?"

"N-not yet, sir."

He takes a puff from the cigar. The cherry glows a deep red as the candy smell from the tobacco fills the air. Erik let's go a quick, subtle uncomfortable cough.

"And why not?"

He pulls a chair up next to a desk and sits down, crossing one leg over another.

"Well, we're not really sure yet. Everything was going according to plan. We sent Ethan down to take him out, but he hasn't come back yet."

The man chuckles in his chair.

"We're all standing around debating what to do next?"

They don't dare shrug at the question. They stand motionless. The man rises up from the chair and walks over to the break box and looks it over.

"Playing monsters in the closet again, I see."

"Well, it's an old man, your honor. I don't think Ethan had many worries---"

The man pulls a large, shiny Desert Eagle from out of nowhere and presses it against Dale's forehead. He goes cross-eyed and nearly pisses himself staring up at the long barrel of the gun.

"Now it IS your job to ensure that when something like THAT happens...."

He points the pistol in the direction of where the truck was most likely wrecked.

"I couldn't prevent that, sir! We don't know where the hell this guy---"

SMACK!!!

Dale gets the barrel of the gun slapped across his cheek. He looks up in shock for a moment then quickly looks away holding his bleeding mouth.

".... that it's taken care of accordingly."

He throws the Desert Eagle back in the holster on his hip then throws his hand on Dale's shoulder.

"Not play hide-and-seek in the dark with some stranger. Any confusion on what's going on here?"

He looks around at everyone. Tammy and Erik still don't move, and Dale continues to rub his chin and work it around.

"Not at all."

He says as if he was talking while eating something extremely too hot. The man walks back over to the breaker box and flix the set back on for the inn.

"So go take care of it."

The three of them head for the door, but before they get there he stops Tammy.

"Not you Tammy, I need a drink."

Dale stares back at the man as he's gently pushed out the door from behind by Erik. Tammy looks back behind her shoulder at him as the door shuts and she hits the opposite door into the bar.

This isn't the first time that the young barmaid has left some clueless visitor for an ill-fate. It's true that they didn't get many, as we mentioned before, but all that did was made it that much easier to pull off. Every so often a lost traveler, or sometimes, even less often, a family, would wander into town. It would usually be a pretty big pay out, if you could imagine. Their vehicle, for sure, credit cards, cash were all up for grabs once they parked.

It was never like that before though. It was a safe haven for desperate travelers or weary truck drivers. It's hidden enough in the wilderness and mountains that when you would find it, you're usually pretty gracious, and curious at the same time to find out exactly where you may be. If you weren't looking for it though, and most were not, you would think the old highway would go on in these dense woods forever. Cursed to drive circles within the vast mountain ranges until your automobile could finally take no more. A saving grace, it was.

The town appears innocent enough on the way in. We said before about the small avenues all lined up perfectly straight and perpendicular to one another. Each property split evenly with a single house occupying each lot. You have your few on the outskirts of town, too. A few houses scattered away from them on their own separate acres of property, with the giant white church and steeple on it's own hilltop overlooking everything. Then the center of the metropolis had the strip mall and lumber mill. It functioned more than fine for years. With simple living, came simple people. With simple people, came simple rules and morals. Everyone worked together like clockwork in the hustle and bustle of every day.

Due to the towns distance from the rest of humanity and the extensive lengths it would take to reach the next town, the people there began to change. Years of being secluded in this wilderness caused a few cases of cabin fever for some of the folks. A lot of them had no clue of internet or television. Some knew of them, but never experienced them. Few have experienced them. Obviously no signal or cable lines would make it where they were, which made this simple life even simpler. With little contact with anything outside the boundaries of the small town, it all became the unknown to them. Those simple people with their simple little lives and their simple little minds couldn't handle much of the unknown. People fear the unknown.

There was a single gentleman there who began whispering into the ears of a few others. He, himself, was not stricken by the sickness, but foreseen an opportunity. He convinced the people that the laws and morals of the evil world outside just did not suit the society within their valley in the mountains. They were slowly altered and shifted to fit the lifestyle that certain people wanted. Things began to change around a bit of a faster pace now. The gentleman, only known as 'Judge', because that's what he was, pulled the strings behind this movement. He went from being just that, to jury and executioner in one swipe. The law enforcement already stood behind him, which was a simple sheriff/deputy operation. The town really didn't need much more than that. With a simple community came simple worries.

It didn't take much for him to buffalo his way into ultimate power there. With the police force already behind him, most others seen benefit in siding with him, as well. There were a few stragglers along the way, but most adapted pretty well. There were those that didn't, however. That led to a stunted population and the disappearances of several people. Whether they just got up and left one day or something else, it was never really talked about. After a while though, fellows armed with guns were stationed on the outskirts of the little town telling folks to turn back if they were trying to flee. Some returned while others didn't.

The already small populace shed to nearly half of what it was. Those that remained prospered for a bit as the resources and food kept flooding in. Eventually though, due to the work force behind the town shrinking, the mill became extremely hard to maintain with even the orders once a month. Eventually, the trucks were only coming once every two months. Then, the usual companies just quit buying from them all together. The cycle stopped and left the people in this small, simple mountain town truly thought they were alone forever. Those that prospered now lived in near poverty and in fear every single day.

Judge was a very smart man. He wasn't going to starve or wither away on that mountain. He made other arrangements to get resources up there, but a lot of times it was some kind of secret operation. Rarely were the standard townfolk allowed out and about during later hours. A town curfew was never implemented, but assumed by the dangers of being seen in such a situation. Already presumed your just planning to leave.

He seen the morale of his people shrinking to nearly nothing and his potential empire crumbling before it even got started. He assured them that the riches would return and the town would prosper again. The lumber mill was gold mine when it was in operation in the beginning and told them that one day it would be again. The faith of the people was in question due to the extreme misfortunes that shadowed over the town. Death was imminent. He did his best after taking the state, to go after the church, as well. He spoke of visions and direct contact with GOD. He spoke for the Lord to further press his own word and rule onto the people.

After a couple of months it became a functioning hierarchy. Whether they were originally forced to stay, or believed in their leader's ways from the beginning, they became so blinded from their separation of the world that they accepted their everyday lives. Everyone began working together again to maintain their new society.

After Doc placed his friend on the bed and left the room. He looked around a bit and pondered on how he was going to get out of here. The people from the bar weren't as friendly as they originally appeared and what ever that sweet little barmaid was up to. Hmm.

Doc enjoyed the darkness. He enjoyed it so much that he used the flashlight to pin point every lamp, ceiling light, wall light, fake candle light he could find and remove and smash the bulb. This way, when Doc's fat new friend's friends come looking for him, they'll have the same treatment HE did. He wanders down the hallway and back and stares at the ceiling for moment, pondering....

"Ya know, Trax. You, my friend, are certainly a treat."

He searches around in his pockets for the shitty cigarettes he nabbed from the dead truck driver, Gus. He pulls one out and cringes as he lights it and takes a couple of puffs.

"You're digging elbows deep in a pile of shit looking for a gold nugget, man."

Doc chokes a bit on the cigarette before shaking his head and rubbing the ash off on his leg.

"How many did you mistake for gold? What I mean is, you're kind of stretching and pulling things out a bit don't you think? What concern of your's is my Tag Team Championship reign OR partner right now? Shouldn't you be studying more of my videos or something instead of worrying where my partner has been and why he just walked off from his match in round one? Wait, you probably know my strategies and what not by heart now, right? Ugh. I am not even concerned with it and he's MY partner. Unknown Soldier has proven countless times that he's a pretty free spirit. If he just wants to crank it in the corner for a while and let the world pass him by, so be it. I'm a pretty good problem solver and if it ever poses one, I'll take care of it. As for right now I'm aiming for the finals, boys. Lethal Lottery hasn't been good to me in the past. What's that? Oh yes, one of those few things that HAVEN'T gone my way... Then again, I was in a completely different situation back then. I had a few other higher priorities than to chase after, yet, another briefcase. While you're looking at this as a chance for redemption. I'm looking it as picking up where I left off. I'm kind of like my partner, I come and go as a please. Even you, Trax, had a minor hiatus and missed out on some key events that went down around here. No big deal. We're back and everything seems the same as it ever was."

"I am baffled that my secret plan was so obvious to Mister Bourbon. I feel locked in a corner now that it's back fired on me, as well, especially since you knew ALLLLLLLL along, too, Trax. Give me a break, fellas. You should be thanking me for helping with the 'Team-Building' exercises that brought forth the STRONGEST tag team force I have yet to face since winning the gold. I smell a sitcom. You two are tighter than a bee's dickhole now, all thanks to me. Not that it will matter after Wednesday unless you guys get something cooking on the fire, otherwise, but hey, at least I have a couple of guys with their minds on the prize, right?"

"Fuck, wrong."

Doc makes his way to the end of the hallway where the flights of steps are and takes the next flight down. He reaches the bottom and enters the bottom floor which was the old boiler room for the inn.

"Trax, you've been so topsy-turvy as of late you're making THIS guy little dizzy. Go ahead, age joke pending, whatever. Serioiusly though, you've made it clear, twice, that you're not interested in politics, am I right? YET? Here we are. Instead of hearing more about your history in the XWF or how Robbie Bourbon nearly killed you to keep you from the title in the Elmination Chamber for the upteenth-time, or how Gabe Reno doesn't know how to win the 'RIGHT' way.... We have to hear about some 2020 campaign? Oh no, wait. We had to hear about all of that other crap, too, my mistake."

"I don't think you're focused at all here. This campaign of yours could only lead to another distraction that's going to cost you, yet, another opportunity that you've worked so damn hard for. Let's get things straight here, too, you're only doing that because my partner this round is the President of the U.S. There aren't too many people around that really give this guy Trump much credit, eh? Everyone's a critic and EVERYONE is full of solutions. I really don't think you realize what trouble you and Mister Bourbon are in Mister Trax. You appear to think I'm making jokes when I claim that the two of you are mere insects under my boot. You think I'm funny when I say that I, alone, will take this match? Okay, have you studied me or not?"

"The first question I asked you in this whole shit parade was 'How well do you think you know the good doctor?' Well, getting straight to the point, unlike you, you pretty much didn't care to know. On the other hand, you know enough to say that I, next to my partner, are two of of the biggest scumbags in the world. Our horrendous acts are unprecedented and we have no souls. Evil! EEEEEEEEEEEEEVIIIIILLLLLL!!!! Pull out your radiant burning light and shine it upon thee!"

He rolls his eyes.

"Mister Bourbon apparently knows me pretty well, HA-HA! Even as the President of the Robbie Bourbon fan club, my friend, that takes nothing away from the fact that you still have no place here. Like I've stated, I'm more impressed with the fact that you've managed to stuff whatever pride you have into that gut of yours and suck it up. You accept your fate like it was made special just for you. Right now, you're just an anchor for that walking, talking skipping record that's your partner. Put your differences aside and settle them, good strategy. Be the team to beat. Trax appears to side with me on one thing, that it doesn't matter who's sided with me.... Yeah, it doesn't. Because whether it was Peter Gilmour, YOU, Mister Bourbon, Vinnie Lane, Buronan.... It doesn't matter. There have been plenty of obstacles placed in my way before... Rarely have they stopped me. Lately, between the two of you boys, it seems these obstacles just keep getting taller and taller and wider and wider. It's a constant bitch about my consistency around here. How often I show up and do what I do. You may have more title defenses with your Hart Title than I've had matches, Mister Robbie, but when you hold such a low prestige title that needs defended twice a month, you'll have that. I'm a Warfare man, so I only compete that often a month AT most. Just like I've told the other idiot greenies around here, I shouldn't have to come out every-single week and remind you all of what I am. It's printed in the history books. It's printed on every single persons face when I speak. It's the puddle at the base of everyone's feet when they're on the opposite end of my 'strategies'."

Doc chuckles to himself as he looks around the dark, filthy cellar and spits on the ground. He notices a large steel door in the back with a small beam of light coming from the outside. Must be a light hanging above the door or something, because it's still in the early, early stretches of morning. He approaches the door and feels around for the handle. He pushes the door open to the outside and pushes a good three to four feet of snow along with it. He steps outside and looks around at the back of the building. The place is like a castle looking at all of the areas together from the back. The inn scaled up the side of a cliff and stretched across the lot with the bar beside it, and the two floor garage beside it. Doc takes a couple steps back to see or hear anything that could be happening in the surrounding area. He knew the strange folks that he met earlier definitely had something in mind for him. It was just an act of impulse from his fat, coverall-wearing friend he met outside his room.

He walks along the side of the building and sees a lot of grown in vegetation taking over the entire side of the inn. He looks up and down it, reminds him of the vine criss-cross decorations that you would find. He pulls on the vines and such to test their stability and begins pulling himself up the side of the building. When he reaches the roof, he crawls across the top and rests near the peak of the roof, lying flat on his stomach on the other side, watching.

"Let's call the kettle black here. Like I said, I don't dive too far into politics, myself, but I doubt the the American people look forward to ANOTHER colored President. Let alone, one with an obvious criminal background. You've killed people, my friend, and got away with it. Is this going to be just like the last two weeks we've spent with you spinning around 180 degrees by the end? Jokes aside, it's a damn good thing your partner, Robbie Bourbon, flew into the scene and cut the strings that I was pulling in the beginning. Whether you knew it or liked it, you can't help but to admit that I AM in BOTH of your heads. The only solution that you've found to the problem that is me is just continue to ramble on and on about the same opportunities going to waste. Throwing my own misfortunes in my face and basically calling MY words hypocricy. I'm well aware of when things have come up a little short. Am I sour about it? Am I out to redeem those? Am I out to prove to the world that I STILL have it? Not at all. Because the world already knows. Robbie BOURBON knows. Why do you think he swooped in to catch your ass as you free falled from the Pillars of Greatness that you've erected in your head? Why do you think he's putting all of his differences aside to accept the fact that he's teamed with you, to take down this 'ULTIMATE EVIL'? It's not because Trump walks around grabbing ladies by their pussies. It's not because Donald J. Trump is unfit for the Presidency according to some. No, no. This is all about the good doctor and the things he's done to people. The horrendous acts. The blood I've spilled. What I'm capable of is for more lethal than sand in the eyes, grabbing tights, or bending the rules. When I am victorious Trax, there is NO question about it. There's no excuses. There's NO smoke hazing over our views. When folks manage to walk away from ME? Oh, there's questions. There's reasons. There's luck. You want to throw Chris Chaos's lucky break at me? Go ahead, the young fellow sitting holding that UNIVERSAL Title over you head got one over the doc. Am I ashamed? Nadda. Will that be the last time that Chris Chaos will see Doctor Louis D'Ville? Of course not. I'm sure the boy has glued eyes onto the back of his head since. I'm not usually like that though. He'll have nothing to worry about until I tell him... In due time."

Doc continues to wait, resting against the peak of the rooftop as a truck pulls in. He watches a man step out and place a cowboy hat on top of his head before heading into the garage where he's guessing the rest of the group are.

"You've done enough talking this week, Trax, for all four of us. Like a broken record you've either rebuttled or climbed aboard onto everything I've said. Whether it was about your partner, my partner, or our fates. Mister Bourbon IS well aware of his place here in this FINE federation. He knows he's not capable of much more than what he's already accomplished. You think he's dreams reach higher than this? I don't. I don't care if he entered into this tournament or not. He's proven already that he's not stupid. He knows. See, that puts YOU in a pretty sour spot, my friend. Keep telling yourself that I need someone to guard my back during this match. Keep telling yourself that the path has been cleared for you. Keep promising yourself and your beloved FAAAAANS that there is still hope for MISTER F'N DOMINANCE. The briefcase that waits at the end of the rainbow for you has slowly faded as the days have passed. There will be NOTHING for you after Wednesday, Trax. These opportunities that you've earned, the chances that you've had will once again mean NOTHING because I'm going to take it all away. YOU, Trax, will not win this round. YOU, will NOT win the briefcase at the end. YOU WILL NOT BE UNIVERSAL CHAMPION! Your purpose, your fate.... Will burn away.... Your hopes and dreams.... It's time to wake up Trax. It's time to wake up and see why I still claim the crown.... I know of the tournament they held without the current KING present. I know of the new FALSE King they crowned. I don't see him anywhere, do you? Crown or not. Tournament or not. My reign... My stranglehold on the XWF will be made completely obvious."

The large steel door that the man in the truck entered opened again after a few minutes. Two of the gentlemen that Doc recognized from the bar earlier, one definitely being that fellow Dale, stepped out and walked slowly over to the side of the building where they could enter the front office of the inn.

Doc hops over the peak and slides down to the edge. He grabs the edge and prevents falling from the roof, but he slips and falls down onto the ground anyway. With an 'OOF' he hits and immediately rises back up to a crouched position. He slowly and stealthily makes his way over to the bar where he looks in the window and sees the man in the cowboy hat sitting, enjoying a drink while talking with the young barmaid Doc met earlier. He walks to the door, opens it, and walks in to the surprise of both of them.

"Hello, my friends!"

The cowboy and barmaid just stare for a moment while the Doctor stands in the doorway with a wide smile across his face.

"I think we should have a talk."