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Lacklan · (03-28-2019)

The world is flat.

The sky is orange.

Grass is blue.

Clouds rain acid down upon the ground.

Fire shoots out every maw of animal great or small whenever they breathe.

Water is poison to all who stop at pools to quench their thirst.

Gilmore stops crying about losing his 1375th match this month.

Lux does something that is even somewhat mildly interesting.

Oh...wait...shit. I forgot to start this off with that cool movie voice dude saying “In a world…” My bad!

Let’s try that again….

“In a world where it is Opposite Day everyday, a bunch of unlikely shit will happen. It is ONLY in this world where Game Girl would ever defeat Sarah Lacklan.”

There we go! Much better! Run the intro!

~~Presenting the PrincessTwilightSexyFang podcast, the show which every loser in this match who ran out of new, or even true, things to say after their second cut stay glued to their seats to watch in order to mash that quote button like a newb playing Chun-Li working the Lightning Kick~~

HIIIIIII-iiiiiiii! Sarah Lacklan here to do the thing that EVERYONE has been waiting for, the thing which has NOT happened that has left everyone with creative blue balls, me talking directly to some people. See, EVERYONE expected me to open up with this, right? EVERYONE expected me to talk TO my opponents and not just cut half a dozen shoots ABOUT them, and since that DIDN’T happen, they didn’t know fuck-all what to do! They’ve just been stumbling around, hitting refresh on the XWF99.com website in hopes of seeing this vlog and being able to make sense of the world. Because, as has been made VERY clear to anyone (unfortunate enough?) who is contractually obligated to watch every promo for the King of the Ring Tournament, there are FOUR people in this match but only ONE person who can inspire everyone. FOUR people in this match who will get to the semis but only ONE person that everyone looks at. FOUR people left in the tournament but only ONE who the world waits with Shakespeare’s bated breath for.

Hey, Game Girl! Get the point of the intro, yet? The concept thudding into your fivehead? The ONLY way you could ever beat me, dearie, is in a world in which gravity works backwards and pushes you towards less dense objects. In a world where geeks who barely exercise defeat world class athletes. In a world where dogs are better than cats. In a world where The Lord of the Rings trilogy is not an overrated piece of shit. In a world where Star Trek is better than Star Wars.

IN A WORLD THAT DOES NOT FUCKING EXIST.

THAT is reality, dearie. The REAL world? Clouds drop water. Grass is green. Lux offers up a nutshot of derivative drivel for Duke to lick off the coffee table. The Force whoops logic’s ass.

AND WEAKLING GAMERS GET DESTROYED BY FIGHTERS.

See, this is not a place where you get to use Star Wars titles to talk about how you are a new hope or that this is the clone wars, or where you dive into a mushroom-laden land filled with dinosaurs that fly when they eat winged turtles. This is not where you get to make a comparison to you being Rinoa Heartlilly and I am the Sorceress Ultimecia, or something equally lame. This is not a story of you being the Sailor Moon to my Queen Beryl. No matter how hard you try, you will never...EVER...be better than me. You will never...EVER...be able to defeat me. You will never...EVER...be anything more than some half-trained, unfocused, distracted, addled child obsessed with how many hits they get on some cam stream while they rack up the points with the old mega men trick.

This...is goddamn...PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING. This is NOT a fantasy world where you get to run around in an avatar as some badass dark elf who has left the Underdark and dual-wields scimitars with the blessing of Mielikki but secretly has the favor of Lloth. This is NOT a fantasy world where you get to sit behind a keyboard with a headset and send forth your Zurg Rush which is TOTES the bullshit tactic you would take. This...IS...NOT...a fantasy world where you get to bust out a nude mod and have a Nord three-way with some twitter warriors, mang. This it the REAL WORLD, dearie, a world where bullshitters like you have to eventually pay that proverbial piper. And good God...sweet Baby Jesus, Patron of Truth...I AM THAT PIPER.

I am DONE with you and your games. DONE with you blasting away when you see an opening and then scurrying away into the darkness like a little child who thinks that they can hide under the covers and not be seen. DONE with the you making a mockery of who and what this business is. DONE with wastes of space like you making our business look like a goddamn joke. DONE WITH YOU.

I have said before but shall repeat for clarity: I am not in the XWF because it is my home. I am not here because I gave into the endless begging from my friend Roxy to come give some legitimacy to her fiance’s company. I am not here to make friends, develop relationships or gain additional fame. I am not here to laugh at Kid Kool tripping over his own feet, watch Mastermind turn a senseless tragedy into a sob story for his own benefit, or attempt to decipher whatever it is Drezdin calls words.

I’m here to be the shining light that this company needs in order to leave behind the bullshit nonsense plaguing our glorious business and kick out every piece of shit model, time traveler, superhero, copycat, and edgelord I can find. And I will REALLY get my rocks off if I can end a career or two of those mentioned. Which means that, if you somehow DO end up in the final with me, I would LOVE to end YOUR career.

THAT is the real world, dearie. The world where you defeat me? It is a nightmare. A dreamscape of unbelievable pain. But I will save our world from such a falsehood. I will save our world from a reality so thin, so unlikely, that it would collapse under its own weight of impossibility. I will save the world from the terror that would be you being taken seriously by anything more than 11-year-old girls with a bad case of acne and 46-year-old male virgins in their basements.

Now, I am FULLY aware that MUCH of what I have had to say about or to you has gone COMPLETELY over your head, because, while occasionally equipped with wit, your comprehension skill is at the level of a particularly dense rock, so allow me, if I may, to attempt to empathize with your intellectual plight and go down to your level. I will, if I may, translate my words into a form of expression you will intimately understand.

Power of Intelligence Down to 35%

I am the Cloud to your Sephiroth.

The Link to your Gannondorf.

The Inuyasha to your Naraku.

The Superman to your Luthor.

The Stark to your Mandarin.

I DO.

You PRETEND.

Power of Intelligence Back Up to a Scale Beyond Your Comprehension

I live life. I fly around the world and fight the world. I take on all comers and never back down. I push myself to the point of breaking in order to experience everything that God’s creation has to offer. Hell, this match tomorrow between you and I, assuming you make it to the final? It will be my NINETY-SIXTH match in these two years.

And you?

You live behind a computer screen and “experience” life through a filter. You are as bad as any internet troll that throws shade and runs screaming from the Light in fear of being burned. You wait and wait AND WAIT until you can hit that quote button and scream out NUH UH so fast that even a three-year-old has to sit back and says “Damn, girl. That’s shitty.” You’re afraid to get out in front of the world with only your own words and opinions to defend yourself, and instead cower and hide and hope that someone else will knock off the Final Boss in your game.

But I run and hide from no one.

And that is the supreme difference between us, Game Girl.

I am reality.

You are fantasy.

I am a warrior.

You are a pretender.

I actually DO THINGS.

You live through an avatar.

And you’re running out of time, girlie girl. Just five days left. Five days to back up what you’ve had to say. Five days to be more than just a lame version of Ninja playing Fortnite on Twitch. Five days to show all of your sycophants and fans from the lobotomy ward that you are ANYTHING worth a damn. To show them that this is more than just Gamer Girl v. Professional Wrestler. More than just Cosplayer vs. Fighter. Unfortunately, we BOTH know what is going to happen when you lose in the middle of that ring:

“Welp, time for another stream session!”

Or even worse:

“Welp, time to take more half-naked pics as fictional characters who are way more badass than me!”

I will not…will not...WILL NOT LOSE TO A GOD DAMN GAMER GIRL

THIS is reality, GeeGee. THIS is what is facing you. No amount of admittedly witty gaming comparisons, allegories, or references are going to save you. Hell, they probably won’t be enough to get you passed Dolly! SURE, those witticisms helped you defeated a Blackwater. YES, you were able to SHOCK people when you defeated a chick who didn't even try and a dude literally with "JOB" in his name. But what about after? What about when facing the daunting reality of people who can ACTUALLY wrestle and who ACTUALLY have skills? You are withering so quickly that even people in the pre-show matches are wondering how you got to this headline spot at the Pay Per View.

Maybe if you played less games and fucking TRAINED more this would not have been a problem!

But! BUT! That IS the problem, is it not? You lack the stamina. You lack the drive to train enough. You lack the ability to get the calories in you, to build that body. You lack the focus to work on the craft. You lack EVERYTHING that matters to be a wrestler.

I am what this business is about. I am the one in the gym for hours a day lifting, running, and hitting the ropes. I am the one doing the media, the interviews, the podcasts, driving sales and getting attention on our sport. I am the one making promotional videos both poignant and artistic so that the world understands who and what we are. I am the one fighting the world across the world, fighting anyone and everyone, setting the whole damn THING on fire.

I am the one who is going to be winning this tournament, dearie. I am the one who the world is going to raise their eyebrows at and say, “Well, shit, that’s why we obsess over the Blood Princess!” I am the one who will be validated, vindicated, and victorious.

And you?

You?

You will likely gone from this company, gone from any company worthy of note, gone back into a hole of obscurity, because you will have hit the GAME OVER screen. You will be back to your furry conventions and your painful cries for attention. You will be back to a world where you dress up as a blue squirrel and hope your tail gets the attention of a man too busy secretly jerking off to Suicide Squad doujin. You are NOT driven, dearie. You are NOT dedicated. You are NOT what this business needs. This business needs warriors and fighters they can be proud of, warriors and fighters who hold the ideals and importance of the business above all else. You? You are a wrestler about...what...a third of the time? Maybe even only a fourth? THAT is not what this business is about. THAT is not what brings the people to watch us. THAT is nothing but an insult to what this business is about.

I am here to banish you to your much deserved obscurity forever, dearie. That pit of yours is deep...very deep...but the Abyss?

The Abyss is deeper.

Hey Lux.

So

Um

We’ve had a LOT of shit to say to one another over the last...what...ten days? Something like that? Honestly, we’ve done so much that the days kind of all blend in together! ESPECIALLY if you put all of your promos onto a playlist and just start at the beginning because, good GOD, they are just the same thing over and over and OVER AND OVER. But, hey, we can’t all be me! So, since we HAVE gone round about here a bunch, and we HAVE covered a TON of space, I am NOT going to spend ten minutes on you like I did with Game Girl, but will instead keep this concise.

But first, a word from our sponsors!

Who needs original thought when you can just copy/paste, amIright?!
— We Are Legion (@CoolTubeSource) March 8, 2019

Huh. Wonder if that was about you? NAHHHHHHHHHH. That was about ol’ Eli. Wait! Another word from our sponsor!

Saw a profile today.

Strengths: Legit badass that can take a shit-ton of damage

Weaknesses: If I take TOO much damage, I become even MORE of a badass
— We Are Legion (@CoolTubeSource) March 3, 2019

Maybe THAT one? Nope! That was about this chick who put in an app during that bizarro period where FREAKIN’ KYLE ruined the XWF site. Though...man...that is totes 2-for-2 that they COULD be about you, huh? Uh oh! One more word from our sponsor!

The shit some of you sell 😂😂😂
— We Are Legion (@CoolTubeSource) December 14, 2018

Okay, okay, I KNOW that wasn’t about you. I KNOW that was about something COMPLETELY different. But it IS 3-for-3 on tweets that COULD be about you. And, unfortunately for everyone watching at home, that is a HUGE problem! Because you ARE someone who is only MORE badass as a “weakness” because his “inner warrior” or whatever goes all Dragon Ball level 9000. And you DO suffer that TERRIBLE disease where you have NOTHING to offer on your own, where your ENTIRE argument is based off that up and down feeling of emptiness in your gut when I haven’t posted anything new and the butterflies going craxy in your tummy when you see my name on top of the latest threads board. And, worst of all, that last tweet ABSOLUTELY works for you.

I’m going to make this very clear, so that there is ZERO question or worry by those who record our words for posterity:

I refuse to sell your product.

Like, I GET that Duke gets hard whenever you even breathe towards him, but he’s ALSO the kind of guy who needs someone else to build his personality and body of work for him, so that’s not exactly the BEST endorsement. And I ALSO understand that there are others who slobber over your promotional knob in hopes of getting to choke down some of that, as we have already covered, thin, watery, lackluster love potion. But unfortunately for you, the lie that is LUX has been ripped apart these last 10 or whatever days, and in five more, when we are in that ring, even those people with their mouths watering at the thought of your starfish are going to have to hand over their losing bet.

You are one of four things, kid:

1 - Delusional (my vote!) and in need of a psychiatrist to help sort you through your problems. I can give you the number of a great one after you wipe away the tears after your loss on Sunday.

2 - A man who denies his impending transition so hard that his inner self, his TRUE feminine self, has developed her own personality. In that case, as luck would have it, I have a close family friend who went through something similar, and can give you HER number after those aforementioned tears are dried away.

3 - A liar, which, lets face it, is just kinda par for the course in this weird business of ours. Or:

4 - Legitimately embodied by an unstoppable warrior from the future trying to save everyone.

I

Um

We

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Lets go with that last one, okay? Lets just focus on this for a moment:

The Blackwaters do NOT have super powers, or else they would crush everything in their path, even IF they were purposefully holding back in order to not out themselves to the humans. I believe we can all agree on that.

Eli James is NOT a preacher of God who has decided that murdering entire towns in a fire the size of California’s yearly fires on camera is a good thing. I believe we can all agree on that.

Kalinda was NOT a dragon, that other chick was NOT a mech, Baumer was NOT a respectable journalist, and NO ONE could SEE. I believe we can all agree on that.

And so that brings us to here. It brings us to a battle between reality and fantasy, between truth and lies. It brings us to a second generation wrestler with a legitimate sixty-one wins in two years under her belt in a variety of styles and match-types, and five championships, against a kid with a Ghost in the Shell fetish and a pathological NEED to be more than a gutter trash tryhard that he has to feed into the wants and desires of fanboys too pathetic than even Game Girl’s base of mouth-breathing neanderthals.

I will NOT give you props. I will NOT give you even an INCH of respect. Because I REFUSE to lose to a person who gets off on an endless stream of vanilla nonsense that not even Hubbard would touch. And I am SO confident in my skills, SO confident in the fact that I am going to leave you staring into the mirror, tears streaming down your face, in a place of life-altering questions about how you got your ass beat, that I will lay this out on the table:

If I, a true world-class athlete who understands every facet of this business, can’t beat a poorly conceived gimmick-monger like you, then I don’t deserve to be in the XWF.

To reiterate, in front of everyone watching this, from the dregs of Dezdin and Gilmore to the GMs of every brand, and the owner himself, and to REALLY give you something to quote:

If I don’t beat you in the semi final round of the King of the Ring Tournament on Sunday, I’ll quit.

That’s called calling your bluff, Corey. Because I KNOW that I have pocket rockets and you’re holding seven deuce off suit with a cocksure grin on your face. All my chips are in the pile. Will you add yours?

Or will you be the pussy titty baby bitch I know you to be?

I am sure that you have heard "Hello, Dolly!" a thousand times in the last couple of years, so I hope that you appreciate the subtlety of how I did it. Here's the dealio, kiddo:

You have so much goddamn potential. Now, I KNOW that you started kicking ass when you were thirteen, and that's AWESOME. But you ALSO had shitty tastes in media personalities when you were eleven, and that SUCKS, but is forgivable. And I KNOW that you have had a KILLER run since you came back a few months ago, a run which includes the Hart title. And while the two bullshit morons who have joined us in the Final Four of this tournament wish to discredit how you have done more in your limited time than they could even hope to dream in a similar circumstance, we both know that I won’t. Because I see so much of myself in you that it is downright scary.

I get it. I was angry at your age, too. Different reasons, mind you. My father loved me and was an inspiration. But growing up the way I did, with being the subject of pokes and prods by doctors, of points and stares by strangers, was difficult. I couldn’t go out into the sun like other people. I couldn’t look at the same bright lights as other people. There was virtually NOTHING I could do like normal people. And after years of that, after over a decade of becoming more and more aware of just HOW different I was, I started to get very angry. Angry enough to want to control everything around me and bend them to my will. Thus began my marketing career, I suppose.

I will admit that I, by no means, “struggled” in the way you have when it comes to upbringing. I mean, yeah, I DID grow up in a religious compound and worshipped as the princess to the Mountain King (there’s some research the other two fuckwads have zero clue about!), but it was far more pampered than the vast majority. Material want was not something I ever had to face. Cheap clothing, terrible food, shitty housing, never parts of my life. I grew up in a house that some would think a palace, ran through fields plentiful and widespread, climbed trees in a forest as lush as any other in the Northeast. As such, I never had to worry about many of the things you did.

That being said, I was still angry, and part of that anger is something I see in you. My father was loving, and some would say doting, but I never knew my mother. In something pure in its sadness, she died giving birth to me, and it was something she knew and feared would happen. Cysts the size of her fist, kid. Can you imagine how painful that was? Can you imagine the fear that went through her, all tossed aside for the love of me? She paid that price and has sat at God’s side ever since. And I was about five years old when it first dawned on me, when it finally sunk in completely, that for all of the material wants I never had to worry about, I would NEVER get to meet her. I don’t know how long I cried with my head on my father’s lap, his large hand running through my platinum hair, trying to soothe me with his scratchy baritone, but it felt like I cried out the entire Penobscot River.

So, I know a little about pain and anger. And I know about the need and want to control it and everything around you. Did you know that, in my need to shape my own world, that I convinced just about everyone in this business that my home, the religious compound for the Path of the Light Church, was actually its own sovereign nation? That it was called “Lacklanland” and that we had an official “Lacklanland” version of everything? Lacklanland High. Lacklanland Travel Bureau. Lacklanland Bowling Association. Hell, I'm pretty sure that my wife STILL thinks that, and she KNOWS better!

Point is that I, in my anger and frustration, and with both my natural and learned charisma and marketing skills, was able to do great and powerful things. Able to shape the world around me, present myself how I wished, and influence everyone around me. And it is CLEAR to me that you, in your own anger and frustration, are in a similar position. All one has to do is listen to you when you really get going, because you are using words which you sometimes don't truly know the meaning of, and still use others that don't sound QUITE right, as if your mouth isn't sure how to form the shapes necessary. Similar how I tried to be something I wasn't at your age...and not TOO dissimilar from our favorite future chick in a boy's teeny, tiny body...you are trying to be someone you are not.

But that's where I come in.

You know that docuseries that CircleTV is doing on me? The one that hit you up for a few quotes? One of the things that has come up is how I am more mellow now than I was when I first burst onto the scene. A big part of that is my wife, of course, because believe you me, getting laid on a regular basis does WONDERS for teen angst. Not that YOU need to worry about that, of course. DON’T HAVE SEX! You are WAY too young for that and I will wring your scrawny neck if you start! N-E-Ways, another big part of my mellowed-out-ness was my pro wrestling trainer, my sensei, if you will, Nikita Dolore. Besides just things like lockups and tapouts, she also taught me most of what I know about navigating the political waters of this business as a woman. And while not EVERY lesson of hers has stuck, she has been there on more than one occasion since I left her tutelage to press a point and help me truly take in what she was trying to teach me.

That’s my role for you, Dolly. To be the captain of your ship and steer you in the right direction. See, I know exactly what its like to get hurt, to find yourself in a wheelchair and having to go through rehab, and thus I know exactly what you went through when YOU got hurt. And I am going to be here to both show and teach you how to adapt and transform what and when you need to. And, as long as you get passed Game Girl, I’ll get to give you the most important lesson there is in this business:

How to lose.

You’ve met a couple of my friends already, though you haven’t really had the chance to be around us all at once to see us in action. We beat the everloving PISS out of each other. We train hard, pushing each other, and then pull no punches when we fight for real. We have defeated each other in singles matches, tournaments, tag matches, and more. We have bloodied one another, taken advantage of injuries and shortcomings, and given each other no quarter. And then, after we have stolen the show and shown the world what TRUE wrestling is in this modern era, we pick each other up, help each other change and shower, and go out and celebrate the victor.

And that is what I am going to show you. I’m going to beat you within an inch of your life. I’m going to kick you, palm strike you, stretch you, and eventually tap you. And then I’m going to pick you up, give you the biggest bear hug of your life, and raise your hand with mine. Then we’ll head to the back, we’ll help each other get out of our gear so that we can freshen up, sign a few autographs as people gush over us about how we absolutely stole the show from Chaos and Omega, and then go out and get some food. I’ll even see what I can do about sneaking you a drink.

Because that’s what we do, Dolly. And I promise you...PROMISE YOU...that if you do NOT come at me with ALL of your gusto, if you do NOT attack me with every tactic and move you have tucked away, then I WILL beat you up SO BAD that you’ll need a LOT more than some makeup tips to be able to show your face in public any time soon. If you come at me half-cocked, if you come at me with an effort that matches what you will use to dispatch Game Girl, then I WILL make you pay for it.

I am looking forward to Sunday, love. I have SO MUCH to teach you.

Welp, that’s it for this edition, dear Fang Gang. Lord knows what you’ll see in the next couple of days as we get to the end of this endurance hell that is this tournament, but for certain you will see the next episode of my docuseries, because SOMEONE is getting her LIIIIIICENNNNNNNSE on Friday!

See you all soon!

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