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X-treme Wrestling Federation »  RP Archive » Archives » "Anarchy Special" RP Board
"Nightclub, Fightclub."
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Justin Sane Offline
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#1
11-01-2014, 08:31 AM

[// FORWARD \\]

With the King of the Ring tournament just days away, it seems as though every man in the XWF locker room has his eyes set on the prize. At the end of the day, though 24 men will start, only one can be crowned king. There are those who are favored to do well, just as though there are those who most expect to be nothing more than a warm-up for their more highly-fancied opponents. Justin Sane is set to square off against Wrestler82 and Venomous in a match most people are expecting him to win but as we have all seen time and time again, you make these predictions at your own consequence. Sane is on his way back from War Games and has made his way to New York City where he will compete in the King of the Ring tournament. He still has a couple of days for a little bit of downtime before prepping himself for the big event. He has decided to take up an annonymous offer to join a stranger at the Marquee nightclub, more out of curiosity and for the opportunity to get out and celebrate a more than successful XWF debut. Justin knows what is at stake this week in light of his recent triumph, as it places a certain expectation on those big shoulders. He feels he is more than up to the challenge though and will this week look to solidify his self-proclaimed standing as a big-time player. There is no greater proof than carrying the crown that makes you 'King'.

[// END FORWARD \\]



:: I step out of the car and lift my gaze up to the Marquee nightclub in front of me. I can hear the bass pumping inside and and the chatter from the long line of waiting patrons. I pull up the sleeve of my left arm ever so slowly and look down at my watch. It's 9:55pm. I start to make my way towards the door, adjusting the cuffs on my sapphire blue shirt. As I slowly make my way towards the door, I can see the bouncers eyes burning a hole through me and hear the background noise of abuse from the sea of people in line. Amongst all the "Hey, back of the line, asshole!" and "The fuck does this guy think he is?" remarks, I hear a far softer tone murmer, "I think it's him..". I chance a look over and notice two girls about five-deep in the line. One is a stunning blonde in short black dress, but it's the brunette standing beside her that catches my eye. Wearing a short white dress with black trim, her wavy, style locks flow down her back, stopping gracefully between her shoulerblades. Her soft, pouty lips and deep blue eyes instantly sends chills up my spine. I hear the blonde woman whisper in her friends ear, "It is! I definitely is!". I throw the pair of ladies a winning smile but before I can see if it's returned, I feel a hand on my shoulder. I look up with a snap of my neck and see a large bouncer, perhaps even 30lbs heavier than me, staring me down. ::

"And just where do you think you're going?"

:: I can feel a hundred eyes on me. Watching, waiting with baited breath hoping that this asshole trying to cut the line is going to get what's coming to him. ::

"Excuse me?"

:: I retorted, more than just a little insulted. ::

"What do you mean, 'where do you think you're going?'. I would have thought that was pretty fucking obvious."

:: The bouncer draws himself up to full height, but doesn't do anything. I'm not intimidated in the slightest and he knows it. ::

"Do you have any idea who I am?"

"I don't give a fuck who you are. You can get in line with everyone else, or you ain't goin' in."

"Who the fuck are you to tell me I'm not going in? I'm Justin fucking Sane!"

"Who?"

:: I hear the girls gasp and begin talking to each other. Is this guy kidding me? I have to admit, I'm a little embarrassed but even more insulted. I can feel my blood begin to boil, my face running hot. I'm going to splatter this guys nose right across his face, I think to myself. Just then I see him reach up and press his ear-piece into his right ear as he stares at the ground. He looks up at me as he mutters something into the microphone pinned to his shirt. He then motions for me to go inside. ::

“Sorry bro, that's my bad. In you go..”

:: I can feel my annoyance and anger begin to immediately subside. I am, after all, there to have a good time. I nod towards the bouncer and start to head inside, but I stop. I turn to my right and point at the two women standing in line. ::

“They're with me.”

:: The bouncer looks over at the two women and smiles. ::

“Haha, of course they are man. Ladies...”


:: I swear I can see their knees become week and a puddle forming underneath them as they make their way out of the line and over to where I am standing. I also notice that there is no more abuse being hurled at me from people waiting to get in. As the girls reach the point where I am standing, I throw an arm around each of them and walk in. I'm not interested in the blonde piece at all, but I do love rubbing it in the face of every other guy out here who wishes he was me right now. I can feel the girls shaking slightly underneath my arms as we make our way into the club. For a moment, I forget they are even there as that infectious bass fuses itself to my central nervous system and the lights send my senses into overdrive. The scent concocted from sweat, perfume and alcohol puts me on an instant high as I lead the girls over towards the bar. I order us some drinks, which I am informed are on the house. I'm also told that I have a VIP booth, which one of the barmaids is only too happy to lead me to. Myself and my two new friends are lead up a small flight of stairs and into a booth overlooking the dance floor. Plush white lounges and a rather oddly shaped glass table resembling something like a peanut. As we are taking a seat, I glance around and notice that there are quite a few bad looking dudes in the rest of these booths. Each one of them stares at me with a less-than-friendly look in their eyes. I sit down, looking around at each of them men, wondering what on earth their problem is.. I figure they probably just understand I'm kind of a big deal and are somewhat jealous. Before I can think about it too much more however, my train of thought is broken by the tidy blonde sitting on my right. ::

“You're Justin Sane, right? The wrestler? Oh my god, you have no idea how much we love you! I.. I'm Crystal, and this, this is my friend, Gemma.”

:: Gemma. Just hearing her name was almost enough for me, and yet I didn't understand why. I looked over at her and she offered me a shy smile and a wave, but didn't talk. It was at this point, a large tray full of drinks and shots arrived and were placed on the table in front of us. I immediately reached for three shots of tequila and placed one each in front of the girls. I smiled at the blonde, and raised my shot glass to them. If they wanted me to talk, they'd need to drink first. We clinked the shot glasses together and drained them, turning them upside down on the tray. I sunk back into the comfort of the sofa, which seemed to embrace me. ::

“The one and only, ladies. I'm in town for the King of the Ring tournament at Madness and I received an.. offer.. to meet somebody here tonight. Buuut... [ I sit another shot in front of each of them. ] .. I think I've found something much, much more interesting.”

:: The shots are consumed and the glasses overturned. This time it's Gemma that speaks, and she sounds as perfect as she looks.. at least to me. Her soft undertones seem to enter my ears and send my brain into an absolute meltdown. ::

“How are you feeling after War Games? Your match was so brutal, we were so scared. We've been following you for a while and when we heard you were finally going to compete.. we did everything we could to get tickets, but they just sold out so fast.”

“I'm fine, honestly. You don't have to worry about me, I can more than handle myself when things get rough, trust me. [ I throw a subtle wink out there and even in the varying light I can see her blush. ] War Games was nothing, this whole King of the Ring tournament is going to be so much worse. I mean, I know that I won't even have to break a sweat to get through those two scrubs in the first round, or even the second round. There's some legit guys in there though, I mean Frodo, D'Ville, Maverick, Gator – the list goes on. Even that freak Ghost Tank seems to be in good form heading into Madness.”

“Oh baby, relax. I don't think any of those guys are going to be a problem for you...”

:: I feel a hand on my right thigh and look down at it before turning to look at Crystal ::

“You know, if you need a bit of stress relief..”

:: I'm not sure where this new-found confidence came from – perhaps she was just a cheap drunk, but as Gemma's hand began to run across my chest, I found myself not caring in the slightest. ::

“We can help you out.”

:: I can feel Crystal's hand sliding up my leg as Gemma leans in close, her soft pouty lips just centimetres from my own. It's in this moment that I hear it.. someone calling out to me.. why do I know that voice? ::

“Theeeere he is! Justin, you came!”

:: I feel a hand clamp down on my right shoulder as both women retract back into their seats. I stand up and turn around. I narrow my eyes as I look at the man standing before me. His stylish black hair is perfect, not a strand out of place on his slim 6ft frame. He's wearing a lime green suit with a pale pink shirt on underneath it. Why does this look so familiar? He outstretches his arms and moves as though he is about to embrace me; purely out of instinct I cock my right hand ready to break his nose. His eyes widen as he takes a couple of quick steps back and holds his hands up, speaking nervously. ::

“Whoa, whoa, Justin! It's me! Dane! Don't you remember?”

:: I lower my raised fist and stare at him more closely and my memory starts to come back. ::

“Dane? Dane Polestinator? From college?”

:: He relaxes and breaks out into a huge smile, though it seems a little fake. ::

“Yes! Oh, man! It's been years! I'm so glad you came, I wasn't sure if you would..”

“Wait.. that was you who called me? Why did you change your voice?”

“I wasn't sure if you'd come if I had just called you, I mean, your are the “big bad insane wrestler” now, I figured you were more likely to respond to a possible conflict..”

:: It's true, if I'd known it was Dane, I never would have come. Dane and I used to be good friends in college, but we kind of grew apart. I guess it was kind of good to see him, in a way.. I don't get a chance to see many friendly faces from my past any more. I tell Dane Polestinator to join us and sit back down myself. Dane sits down next to Crystal, a little to close for her comfort apparently as she shuffles a bit closer to myself and looks away from Dane. He doesn't appear offended at all, in fact, he looks slightly amused. I know why. ::

“Oh honey, please, you don't have to worry about that. I'm not interested.”

“You're gay?”

“As gay as pink ink, sweetheart.”

“And you two are friends?”

“Oh sure!”

“Kind of.”

“Justin, man, don't be like that! We had a great time in college!”

:: I look over at Dane and notice the weak smile he is offering. He looks nervous and keeps glancing around the VIP area. ::

“Girls, let me tell you a story..”

“Justin, no man, please..”

“Oh c'mon Dane, it's funny. Have a drink and relax, you look like you're about to start sweating bullets.”

:: I quickly down a tequila shot and then grab a glass of rum & coke before leaning back on the sofa. The others each do a shot and retreive a drink from the tray. I put my left arm around Gemma and begin the story. ::

“Well back in college, Dane and myself – along with a couple of our other fraternity brothers – had built up a bit of a reputation as party animals. We were always drunk, always.. and drugs? As many as we could find. Now, as I'm sure you can imagine, we always did pretty well with the ladies. Even my pal Dane over here.. strange thing was though, we would never actually see him take any of the girls back to his room. He would kind of just, disappear, and for the longest time we all just assumed he was nailing chicks. That's what he told us. Anyway, we threw a mad halloween party one year – I'm talking fucking huge. We were all so wasted, everything was a bit of a haze. Last time I remember seeing Dane, he was talking to some poor girl by the pool. Again, I assumed he was going to seal the deal. We wake up the next morning and everyone is wrecked, there's vomit everywhere and the house looks like Dorothy had just blown in from Kansas. First thing I hear when I wake up is this guy smashing on the bathroom door telling whoever is in there to get the fuck out because he's got a case of the green-apple splatters. I hear someone tell him to fuck off and go outside, so he does.. into the back yard to do gods work. I climb over the naked body beside me and look out my window, which was on the second floor. He's squatted down smack-bang in the middle of the back yard.. next thing you know, we find out he's gay.”

:: The girls look at me, bewildered. I take a sip of my drink as Dane swallows hard and begins looking around again. ::

“But, I don't understand.. how did that make you realise he was gay?”

“Haha, oh that's the best part. You see, we soon found out that the legendary Dane Polestinator wasn't the poon slayer he had built himself up to be. As he strained to take that dump, even from my second-story window, I could see it. The clear latex covering that surrounded the chocolate log he was laying out on the lawn.”

“Ew, gross!”

“A shit-filled condom?!”

“Yes ladies, Dane Polestinator and the shit-filled condom. We never really spoke again after that day, Dane left soon after and I never heard from him again..”

:: At this point, I look at Dane and set my drink down on the table. I remove my arm from around Gemma and give all of my attention to my former running-buddy, who looks extremely nervous now. ::

“So, Dane, you've got two minutes to convince me why I shouldn't shower that dance floor with your blood. Better make it good, brother.”

:: Dane swallows the lump in his throat and leans in closer, looking to his left and right quickly before continuing. ::

“Justin, I am in trouble. I need your help. I have nobody else who can do this for me, you're the only person I know who is capable.”

“Of what? And why should I help you?”

“This club also plays host to some of the biggest underground prize-fights in the world. All these guys up here? They're fighters.. killers. Mobsters, gangsters, guys that have done a lot of hard time and would kill for free, let alone a purse like this. A couple of weeks ago, I made a mistake. There's a guy behind me – don't look – who is wearing a white shirt with a black tank top underneath, has short black hair. His name is Ricciardo Sanchez and he is bad news. I slept with his boyfriend, or prison bitch, whatever you want to call him. Anyway, he said he was going to kill me. Ha gave me two weeks, s..said that I had to compete in this stupid fucking fight club and if I did, he would make it quick. If I didn't show, or I ran, he would find me and take his time. Out of pure arrogance he said if I could find somebody stupid enough to take my place then they could, but when he won, he would still be coming for me. He is psychotic, everyone is terrified of him, th..”

“Alright, alright! Fuck, I don't remember you talking so god-damn much. Ladies, excuse us..”

:: I stand up and motion for the girls to leave, which they do. Dane stands up as well. I look over his left shoulder at this Ricciardo guy – he doesn't appear to be anything special, but the dangerous ones rarely do. He looks back across the room and me and sneers, before sticking out the thumb on his right hand and drawing it across his neck. I smirk, not in the least intimidated. I look back at Dane. ::

“So what's in it for me?”

“The purse! Justin, it's $300,000! For five minutes work. I don't care who you wrestle for, you just can't beat that!”

:: I look back over at Ricciardo. All off a sudden I hear Dane's cell-phone go off. He trembles as he retrieves it from his pocket and looks down at his screen. I notice that everyone is looking down at their phones. They all start to file back out down the stairs. Dane looks up at me, tears starting to form in his eyes. ::


“J.. Justin, please. Please, I need you to do this.”

:: I guess the money would be useful and even though Dane is a poster boy for homosexuality, he was once my posterboy for homosexuality. He's still my brother, he's still family. No matter how pissed off I am that he just cut all ties, that fact will never change. I pull my own phone out of my pocket. ::

“Okay. But you film this. I'm going to use what I do down there to send a message to every poor bastard in the King of the Ring tournament this Monday night.”


“Oh, thank you! Tha..”

“You're welcome. Now, let's go.. we wouldn't want to leave poor Mr. Sanchez waiting now, would we?”

:: Dane smiles and starts on his way downstairs. I look down at the tray of drinks and shots and decide a tequila or three for the road wouldn't hurt. ::



||| 3 0 M I N U T E S L A T E R |||


:: I stand in the dirty, damp basement; inhaling the thick oxygen that reeks of testosterone. I've removed my sapphire blue shirt and stand a good 30ft back from where the circle of death is located. I watch on with fleeting interest as two man do their best to tear each other apart. I am finding it difficult to focus though, my mind also consumed by the King of the Ring tournament which looms large. I find myself thinking that Ghost Tank – the sick, twisted beast would absolutely love to find himself in such a situation. Two men, no rules, to the death if one so desired. I can hear the thumping bass still pounding above me, though it is somewhat drowned out by the ravenous and bloodthirsty gathering of individuals that have found themselves here on this night. I'm snapped out of my train of thought as I gaze up and notice the two men have been replaced by one; Ricciardo Sanchez. Finding my focus, I lock my gaze upon him and slowly make my way over to the circle of death. What happens next is exactly what you would expect. There is no surprise ending and there is no plot twist, just as it will be at Monday Madness. Only one man walks out with the prize.. and I don't shoot to be second best. ::



Credit to Mick Manson for the amazing video! :)

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