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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » "WAR GAMES 2015" RP Board
Meeting the MU5C13
Author Message
Christopher Isles Offline
Registered but either hasn't added self to a roster yet or doesn't RP



XWF FanBase:
Mixed reactions

(cheered heavily at home; hated by some; dips between clean/dirty)


#1
09-10-2015, 10:33 PM






[We fade in on Chris and Dustin standing just outside of a strange looking vehicle somewhere in Washington DC. The both of them look tired as all hell and just want to get something done as soon as they possibly can. It's amazing the narrator can even figure this out because the scene on the screen is almost completely black save for a couple of cellphone reflections and very dim street lights. Dustin cracks a really loud yawn that forces Chris to yawn like a cat. The wrestler of the duo checks an imaginary watch and groans; possibly over the fact that he doesn't have a watch.]

Christopher: God damn it, where's Robbie? He said he'd be here an hour ago.

[Dustin yawns again before answering his friend.]

Dustin: Robbie's a weird one, you know that. He changes his plans and attitude almost every Saturday.

Christopher: Oh he better not have changed his mind on me. We were supposed to get him to Cali for the plane to pick us all up. You don't think he sailed his way there, do you?

Dustin: If he wanted to sail to Oregon and get malaria on his way there, then yeah. But trust me, brah, Robbie ain't that stupid. Besides, didn't he text ya sayin' he had to blow off some steam first?

[Chris pauses for a brief moment before answering his friend, who is completely right with his point.]

Christopher: Yeah, but when I see someone text 'blow off steam', that usually means they're masturbating or smoking a fat one. Where could he possibly be and what could he be doing that holds him up for an hour?

[Suddenly, we see Robbie Bourbon enter the scene in a pair of gym shorts, and a v-neck t-shirt with the kanji for "Ronin" spray painted on the front. He's holding a grocery bag and carrying a keg.]

Robbie: Oh, hey, I got snacks for the trip! 25 pounds of beef jerky, and a whole keg of my own special root beer!

[Robbie looks at the strange vehicle. His eyes go wide.]

Robbie: Crap, does that thing have a tap system? If not we gotta stop by a party supply store for some taps for the root beer. Hey, what does that button do?

[Robbie approaches the vehicle and presses a button on a panel. The vehicle transforms into a bipedal robot, about 30 feet tall, bright blue, with a flaming eyeball on the right arm and a flaming eight ball on the left.]

Robbie: Sweet!

[Robbie presses the button again to transform the car back, but accidentally breaks it. He puts the button in his pocket. He then turns his head back to both stoners, who have their mouths agape after seeing what the fuck just happened with their new car.]

Dustin: Holy shit brah! Did ya just see that? The car some cosplayer gave us turned into a fucking robot!

Christopher: Damn...I guess I should trust people dressed like Spike Spiegel more often.

[Chris and Dustin laugh it off before turning their attention back to Robbie.]

Christopher: Anyways, no it doesn't have a tap system. At least, I don't think there is. There's so many knobs and buttons in that thing, it might as well be a zen riddle. Don't push any of them, though. I don't want the car blowing up while we're driving through El Paso.

Robbie: Oh, we won't blow up in El Paso if I push them all now!

[Robbie opens the driver's side door and starts to go nuts, turning knobs, and hitting buttons. The windshield wipers turn on, and nothing else happens.]

Robbie: Okay, I'm done pushing your buttons. Yo, Dusty, gimme a hand with this jerky, will ya?

[Robbie holds out the 20 pound bag of jerky out to Dustin. The much smaller man goes to pick them up by holding out his hands under the bottom. As soon as Robbie lets go, Dustin just drops to the floor with the bag. Chris laughs at his friend's weakness before helping him with the abnormally large bag. With their combined strength, they're able to get it in the backseat of the car.]

Christopher: You can hold onto the keg, yeah Robbie?

[Robbie kind of shrugs, setting the keg on the ground.]

Robbie: I got it, I guess. So, road trip?

[Chris starts to speak, but Robbie interrupts him.]

Robbie: Road trip. Maybe you can gloss over some of the game plan you have in mind; I'd hate to cross wires. So, I'ma just chuck people around like mad, beat the high holy hell out of Dim, kick in Bjorn's rib cage, give Morbid a back alley lobotomy, feed parts of Bobby to Dim, and pummel Reverend Plague like the sad little rag doll he is. Me and Alex got together, he's pretty cool, but I'm not touching Morbid's phallus. I like Mikey, even if people are hard on him, he's got some spunk. The only X-factors I have are Abby and you. Not for nothing, but we got a bit of a history, stud, and the name of the game these days is to viciously attack Robbie Bourbon when he least expects, so if you got anything planned, might as well get it done now.

[Chris, not having a decent response at the moment, chuckles for a bit before continuing.]

Christopher: Well if you're just going to announce what you're going to do, why don't you just carry a megaphone with ya at all times? Besides, I ain't gonna hit ya in that match. We're just about even.

Dustin: It's true, brah. He doesn't mind things being even when it comes to friendly competition. If anything, he prefers it that way.

Christopher: And I wouldn't worry too much about Abigail. I'm pretty sure she just wants to focus on killing the Reverend. Y'know, why don't we just talk about our opponents while on our drive to Cali. Maybe then we won't look like overconfident douchebags.

[Robbie looks confused at the notion.]

Robbie: Well, I am an overconfident douchebag, it comes in handy sometimes.

Christopher: No, I mean-

[Chris pauses for a little while before realizing who he's talking to. He sighs before giving up.]

Christopher: Just get in the car. I have ta pick everyone else up too, so we might as well get in and get started.

[Chris opens the driver's side door but doesn't get inside. Instead, he turns to Robbie and asks him a question.]

Christopher: Say, you were with Alex last. You have any idea where he might be now?

[Robbie shrugs as he climbs into the back seat.]

Robbie: I haven't a clue. He's a pretty enigmatic guy, he showed up in town and I kind of thought that he'd be riding with us here and now.

[Chris silently curses to himself as Robbie shares this news. He should've known better than to spend most of his time driving down to DC first, but it hadn't crossed his mind since he was driving and sightseeing for most of it.]

Christopher: Might as well start where he's living right now, I guess. I mean, Canada can't be that far of a drive, right?

[Robbie's eyes go wide, as a grin crawls across his face.]

Robbie: Canada? Hrmm, I wonder if we can get some maple syrup while we're there, and some salmon too. Man, this is the life in the XWF. I mean, I get to fight in epic fights, and alongside epic fucking allies for an epic road trip, and we get to go up against some actual real supervillains!

[Dustin turns to Robbie from the front passenger seat.]

Dustin: Supervillains? Dude...

Robbie: Uh, yeah! I mean, Morbid Angel is a fucking evil neo-Nazi zombie-esque piece of shit what needs to be broken and buried, and Dim is a true blue misrepresentation of everybody in the car so far, stud, I mean, that's what makes the XWF the BEST comic book universe!

[Chris chuckles, his eyebrows arched. Dustin looks thoroughly perplexed.]

Dustin: Brah, the XWF is a pro-wrestling universe.

[Robbie laughs heartily.]

Robbie: Ah, I see where you're getting confused. See, the XWF is choc full o' superheroes and villains. Like, see, Chris is the regular guy who can kick ass, kind of like Batman. You're Alfred.

[Chris laughs again.]

Robbie: The CCWF is the rival universe doing a big old crossover, Vinnie Lane is Dazzler from the X-Men, Shane is Lex Luthor, but the vulgar Lex Luthor from the early 90's, and Hired Gun, well, he ain't shit since I broke his God damned neck on the entrance ramp. Alex Aries is like Arsenal, the guy Green Arrow trained. Mike Emerick is like Shocker, kinda goofy sounding at first until you realize he's got the potential to blow the whole damn roof down. Abigail kinda looks like, man, I can't think of what superhero she looks like at the moment. I actually have tried to keep her looks out of things, I don't want to get too distracted while getting ready to break the skulls of Bjorn Felhammen, who's just a Punisher bad guy who's doomed to be gone after one or two issues, Revvy Plague, who's like the really crappy emo Peter Parker from Spider-Man 3, Bobby Zi, who's the Chameleon trying to take on my identity, Morbid is Solomon Grundy, Born on a Monday, Buried this Sunday, and Dim is the Juggernaut, just some dumb shithead that won't feel whatever you got for him but at least is going to run headfirst into his own ass kicking at the hands of a real superhero.

Dustin: Who are you?

[Robbie looks at Dustin incredulously as he presses a button on the back of Dustin's seat which actually presents a tap for a keg connected to a jockey box. He taps it, and presses another button which produces a mug. He pours himself a frosty root beer, sips, and belches loudly.]

Christopher: He's Robbie Motherfucking Bourbon.

Robbie: God damned right I am. See, I'm not some wrestler who's a superhero, stud, I'm the superhero who's a wrestler. Like El Santo before me. Or Sergeant Slaughter. Can't compare me to anybody in the DC or Marvel universes, stud, because they don't have Robbie Bourbon. Only in the XWF, baby. There are plenty of supervillains around, plenty of superheroes, each a different shade of gray, so while yeah, the XWF is a literal wrestling company, and Chris and I are joining three other wrestlers for a match against another team of wrestlers, there's more to it than just that. We get the opportunity to fight the good fight and actually put Dim's fucking head on a platter for once. I've been waiting to get my mitts on that dumb prick since I set foot in the fucking XWF. When I do, don't get it twisted, there's going to be fireworks. I'm going to come out of that cage worse than I entered it, I'm not foolish enough to think the biggest target on 7h3 H4rdc0r3 F0rc3 ain't going to be treated as such. I've seen Dim do absolutely brutal shit to people, including Brock Lesnar. Well, Brock Lesnar is Brock Lesnar.

[Robbie sips his root beer again.]

Robbie: As Chris pointed out, my name is Robbie Motherfucking Bourbon. Dim is going to remember that name. Do you know why? Because I'm the guy who's going to show him his own asshole, a full two feet of it, shoved inside out and wagging behind him like the tail of a husky after I hit him in the fucking stomach. I'm the guy who's going to crucify him on the walls of the hell we'll find ourselves in. I'm the guy who's going to break the war, I'm the artillery, I am death from above, and I am the Fatman, only instead of Nagasaki I'm going to impact in Shane 's fucking castle.

[Dustin snickers as Robbie calls himself the Fatman]

Christopher: Shut up, brah. I've heard actual fat guys call themselves worse. There's a dude called Earthquake for God's sake. Speaking of God...

[Chris takes a brief moment's pause for suspense.]

Christopher: Hey, Professor ! Congrats on being the only teammate who wants to win. Hell, not even your own Captain has shown that he wants to win. The Ruskie is too busy trying to become a monster to say anything worth a damn. It's a sad sight to see the slow doing everything for the more capable people. Ah well, I guess disability checks weren't for everyone. Especially if you live like a fucking slob. I'm on a lot of shit, sure, but at least I don't stuff Cheetos into my face like I fasted.

[He takes a cup of root beer that Robbie just handed him and takes a quick sip or two before he continues with his thoughts.]

Christopher: Now your God wants you to punish me with your cock on Sunday, huh? I don't know if Gilly, Madison, or whatever fucker you have voicing God told you this, but that's really fucking gay. Your God is into gay porn and your religion shuns that shit. Y'know, I heard demons like to lie about who they really are to get humans to fuck up. I'd be willing to say that you fucked up, dude. Don't worry though, I heard hell ain't all that bad once you get used to the heat and torture. Hey, maybe this match in War Games will give ya a taste of what to expect, ya awful human piece of shit.

Let's ignore how gay God is and focus on Dimmy. He opens his trash on me by calling me a . Well holy mother fuckin' shit, brah! He called me what he called almost every other white guy that Peter Gilmour hasn't made friends with! I feel so loved!

Dustin: I think he said it to insul-

Christopher: I know what he fucking meant, brah. Jesus, how hard did you hit the bong today? Anyways, I can tell that your conversations with 'God' have him doing most of your work for you. And that's when I realize that Madison knows that you're a braindead fucking moron and speaks to you as God because you can't tell that you have no free will.

We never met? Oh Dim, how your head must've been hurting after I drilled your head to the floor and planted your friend on top of you. Go ahead, ask Peter about the triple threat he had against me and a guy named DMX. I'm sure he'll be happy to tell you in his own, over-dramatic fashion. Better yet, ask God himself to show ya what happened. No, better yet, look it up on the goddamn website, you stupid gorilla. Maybe then you'll realize how this '' kicked your ass before. Oh, and word of warning; he ain't afraid to do it again.

I can't speak for everyone else, though. They can handle their own battles and take down this slow fucker on their own time. Besides, that's all the dumbass said about me, at least all the shit worth noting.

As for Bjorn? The fucker's probably too busy raping women like the viking his ancestors were. Glad to see his fucking priorities are straight.

Bobby? That dude hasn't been relevant since February. And even then, we've seen his ass kicked by people that aren't really around anymore and fucking ninjas. Dude, no matter what you say, I can't take your shit seriously with how you kept getting shot down again and again, time after time, non fucking stop. Guess what, it'll keep happening until you realize that you should just give up. Seriously, brah, no one forced ya ta come back.

And Rev? He can't even act his age while insulting me. Seriously, did a toddler write your script for you? And you call my team name cute? You fucking hypocrite. Has it occurred to you that I didn't fire any shots at your losing team because everyone else on my team already said what I wanted to? Has it occurred to you that what I filmed before talking to my teammates was filmed years before I even signed with the XWF? I don't think it has. Ya know what else I think hasn't crossed your mind recently? The realization that there's no way you can do shit to stop us.

You're more than welcome to try, though. Not like it's going to do ya any favors.

[The scene cuts to black before anything else can happen.]

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