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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » Lethal Lottery V RP Board
All The Motivation I Need
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B.O.B. D Offline
Active in XWF



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(loved by some; hated by some; dips between clean/dirty)


#1
11-23-2019, 07:51 PM

My phone had been ringing off the hook for the last week, but I refused to answer. Everytime I looked to see who it was, the same name kept popping up: Steve Sayors. Who else would be getting on my nerves after the biggest loss of my career? While I'm sure my misfortune would make for the interview of the century, I didn't feel like talking to anyone. I was pissed off and ready to snap at any moment. The injustice I'd suffered just a week prior had completely eaten away at me. There was nothing I could do to shake this empty feeling inside, it felt as if my whole world had completely fallen apart.

Despite this, I was expected to move on. Nobody cared that I got fucked over. I'm not the first person this has happened to, and I definitely won't be the last. Maybe it'll happen to me AGAIN, I wouldn't be surprised at this point. I had thought the whole point of Lethal Lottery was to establish a new star for the company, when in reality it was just a sick game. This was never about giving someone like me or Tony Santos the big break we deserved, it was just one big shit show. And considering it was the brain child of Shane , I shouldn't be one bit surprised.

Part of me wants to show up to Lethal Lottery, hand Atticus his precious belt, and tell him Noah can have it! But I know exactly how people would perceive that. If I show up and toss my Championship at Noah's feet in protest, my actions would be misinterpreted. They'd claim I was afraid to face him and would rather vacate the Title than lose it in a match. And while the second part of that statement IS true, it's not because of the first part. When the time comes for me to give up my belt, it's gonna be for a Universal Title shot! I'm just six more defenses away, and I CANNOT allow my anger to screw me over more than I already have been. Even though I'm absolutely livid over the events of last Savage, I haven't forgotten the ultimate goal. Like Krystal said, I'M the one who controls my destiny, and the key to that now lies within my Championship.

Even though I'm in the driver's seat from here on out, that doesn't change what happened. I've been on such an emotional roller coaster since then, you'd think I was about to give birth. From sad to mad(but certainly NOT glad) if there was an emotion for it, I guarantee you I felt it at one point or another. But how was I to deal with everything I was feeling? I had a pent up aggression, a raging fire that burned constantly. Though it refused to be extinguished, I had found a way to tame it......... at least until my meeting with Noah Jackson, one of the men who cost me my shot.





They called them 'Smash', or 'Rage', Rooms and they were exactly what they sounded like. You paid the owner some pocket change in order to go inside of a room and destroy whatever the hell you wanted. It was meant to be a way of relieving stress, or help release your pent up anger, something I was overflowing with. So much, that I had visited the establishment each of the last three days.

The first day was devoted to Donovan Blackwater, the man I had called would lose me the match, AGAIN. While it wasn't ENTIRELY his fault, that still doesn't excuse him for not kicking out............AGAIN!!!!! His piss poor effort is the reason we're both sidelined from the Tournament and I will NEVER forgive him for it. Deep down, I hoped he'd win his match at Lethal Lottery(though I wasn't counting on it), that way I could put him through the same hell I intended to put Noah through. After all the wrong they'd caused me, it was only right.

When I entered the room, I took a white mannequin in with me, the name 'Blackwater' written on its forehead in Black Sharpie. I started by laying on my back, resting the Blackwater dummy on top of me. Then I counted to two over and over again, throwing a shoulder up each time I did. My hate for Donovan was growing with every demonstration, until I throw him off abruptly, screaming as I did.

"HOW FUCKING HARD IS THAT?!?!?!?!?"

At that point I was ready to use the room to its full extent. Like a better looking Triple H, I began to take a sledgehammer to a variety of objects scattered throughout the room. There were fancy dinner plates, wooden shelves, even a fucking car. None of it was safe from the wrath of Big D, not even the mannequin itself. As I did my best Babe Ruth impression, I imagined it was Donovan Blackwater's head I was sending halfway across the room. It brought a smile to my face, if only for brief moment in time.


The second day was all about the ref who needed to go back to Referee School. Once again, I brought in a mannequin, except this one had black stripes spray-painted vertically up it's chest. I got down on all fours and went to count a pin for two invisible wrestlers, but stopped myself from doing so.

"No! He's not the legal man!" I announced, before pointing over to a third invisible man. "He is! Wait, what's that?! Someone NOT in the match just hit him with a foreign object, breaking TWO rules of wrestling?!?! DISQUALIFIED!!!!!"

After admonishing a fourth person who wasn't there, I looked over to the mannequin-ref and scolded him.

"THAT'S how it's done!"

I could feel my blood start to boil as I thought about that referee getting paid to fail at his job. Earl Hebner in Toronto did a better job than this jackass. It bothered me that in most sports, if you lay your hands on an official, or even CRITICIZE one, you'll get fined out the wazoo. And yet it's the criticism, the immediate need for correction, that will only make them BETTER...... and that's exactly what I was doing!

As I had the previous day, I went about smashing whatever I could get my hands on as the mannequin 'watched.' I broke mirrors, knowing my luck was already the worst it could be; as well as TVs and computer monitors, before turning my attention to the imposter ref. I yanked off the thing's arms and beat it over the head with 'em. After I got tired of that, I grabbed a screwdriver and jammed it into it's fake, plastic eyes. Considering the ref we had Saturday was blind, he had no need for them anyway. Finally, I finished the mannequin off with a Dan Slam that literally broke it in half. It was satisfying............until I walked out the door. The fury I felt over my situation had only grown stronger and I was left with no choice but to come back the next day.


That third and final day, like all the others before, I lugged a mannequin into the room with me. This one had the word 'cunt' across it's chest, with an arrow aimed directly at its crotch. It seemed like the perfect representation of Noah Jackson. I also brought with me a 24-pack of Budweiser, some good ole American beer, for reasons I'm sure seemed all too obvious.

As I chugged one of the beers, I threw about half of the case at the fake Noah. Most of them missed, and the ones that didn't kept knocking him over. This only irritated me more than I already was, as I had to keep bending down to pick him back up, only to knock him over again. After doing that about three or four times, I realized I could've just chucked them at him while he was on the ground but was too angry to think straight. Which only fueled my blind rage more.

With the rest of the cans, I did my Noah Jackson impression. I smashed cans over it's head the exact way he did to me. I took a beer in each hand and smashed it against the mannequin's ears, sending beer flying everywhere as I did. After I had run out if beers, I charged straight at the thing and took it to the ground. Like I was a UFC fighter, I got into full Mount position and began wailing on the mannequin's face. The plastic caved in with every shot, cutting up my fists in the process.

I had begun to cry, letting out demented screams you'd only hear in your nightmares. It felt as if I'd lost my mind, every punch did nothing but remind me of what I had lost. This was supposed to make me feel better, but after three days it had only made things worse. Nothing would ever change what happened on the last Savage, but the same was also true about my hatred for the situation. The only thing I COULD do was move on, but my mind just couldn't take it.

As I rose to my feet, I was overcome with the desire to hurt Noah Jackson. While he wasn't the only person to screw me over, he was the one I had the first opportunity to punish for it. And that was exactly what I planned to do.

"What kind of match does Noah Jackson get?......."

I walked over to an opened ladder and climbed up a few rungs.

"A Ladder match, perhaps?"

I hopped off, nearly losing my balance as I hit the floor.

"Nah, I'm not a big fan of heights. It was one thing for a Universal Title shot at Leap of Faith, but it's another for a secondary Championship. Besides, I'm not an idiot. I know a match like that only benefits a smaller wrestler like you. Just look at Ned, he DID win the briefcase that night."

I walked away from the ladder and over to a random piece of chain link fence. It was about ten feet wide and as tall as the wall. I put my fingers through it, grasping it tightly, before resting me face against it. As I did this, I began to mimick having my face grated against it, as I had in Cage Matches before.

"Do we do Hell in a Cell? I almost beat Robert Main AND Donovan Blackwater in one, surely I could handle one of YOU. But I don't think Vinnie wants to fork out the dough on such an elaborate structure. Especially for a TV Title match between two guys who, before last week, had no real reason to face one another."

"What about a Cage Match? It's essentially a smaller Cell, surely Lane could afford THAT. I won my belt in one AND ended Thaddeus Duke's career, maybe I'll end yours, too!...."

I pulled my hands and face away from the fence, walking away from it, shaking my head.

"I can't give you the opportunity to escape the beatdown you deserve! The punishment you earned the MOMENT you stuck your cunt into my business! While these other matches ARE violent, they still don't hold a candle to the amount of blood I want to spill, bones I want to break..........Noah, I hope you're ready to live up to the X in XWF because..........."

I stopped in front of a mini barbed wire fence, my eyes fixated on the potential carnage it could cause.

"We're having a Barbed. Wire. MATCH!!!!!!"

I began to breathe heavily like a fat kid ready to inhale a piece of cake.

"I don't think you've seen the error in your ways........... SO I'M GONNA TEACH YA!!!!!"

I began to laugh maniacally.

"And if you think you can run and hide, or be saved by the time limit..........GUESS AGAIN!!!!!! While I'm positive I could dispose of you in under 5 minutes, that just wouldn't be enough time to torture you! So there will be NO Time Limit, Noah, just you and me, surrounded by sharp razor wire!"

"You've made the biggest mistake of your life. I know it doesn't SEEM like you did, considering you've been given a TV Title shot, but let's be real......... This match is more about me getting my revenge than you potentially winning a Championship. If you hadn't busted me over the head with that nasty, Australian piss in a can, we wouldn't even be facing each other. I'd be moving on in Lethal Lottery, and you'd be left teaming with your asshole 'dad' against another shitty Tag Team. Probably Robbie Bourbon and Bearded War Pig."

"You don't even deserve a TV Title shot, despite the fact you managed to weasel your way into one. If anything, you should be competing for the 24/7 belts, even IF Fuzz would disown you for it. It's the absolute peak of what you could ever accomplish! You failed to win the Anarchy Championship and then the Tag Team Titles, so why would you think it'll be any different THIS time?! Because you've beaten me before? Because you've outlasted me in a few Elimination Matches, you think you're better than me?! I'm not the man I was in those matches, Noah, and you're gonna learn that the hard way! I'm pissed off and ready to rip apart anyone who stands in my way, and right now that's YOU! You may not be the only person to wrong me, but you're the one I can get my hands on first and I'm gonna make an example out of you! No-one, and I fucking mean NO-ONE gets away with robbing me!!!! I don't care if you have a God damn gun to my head, I'm gonna fight you until you've paid for what you've done!!!"

"I am an absolute mad man right now and, if I were you, I'd be worried about your well being. Because I'm not worried about mine! You stole my dream from me and I have absolutely NOTHING to lose anymore......"

I took the TV Championship belt I had around my waist the entire time(because it was really the only thing left) and held it out in front of me.

"This isn't the Television Title anymore, Noah......... This is my destiny, my redemption! My way to get passed people like you, Blackwater, and Ref Helen Keller, despite all of your efforts to bring me down! I may not longer be in Lethal Lottery, but dammit, I can STILL reap the same reward! And there's no way in hell I will EVER allow the next stage in EDWARD'S line of evolution defeat ME!!!!! You're just gonna be one of eight defenses, earning me a Title shot and showing the world you're nothing more than you're favorite word....... a CUNT! And that ain't no story, it's the Cold Big D Truth!!!!!"

For the first time all week, I actually felt a little better. The rage had subsided for the time being, but it wasn't gone forever. It was lying dormant deep down, waiting to be unleashed come Lethal Lottery. This week it was mannequins and fine China, next week it would be Noah Jackson's skull. I will show no mercy, his flesh will rip and his body will break. He'll be begging me to stop, but I won't......... Not until I've been completely satisfied with the amount of carnage I'd caused. Once Noah's felt the same amount of pain I have for what I've lost, only THEN will I end the match. And when that happens, not only will I STILL be TV Champion, I'll also be one step closer to the Universal Title shot I should be competing for Sunday night. By the time I'm finished with him, Noah will be wishing I WAS still in Lethal Lottery.......

June 2019 XWF Superstar of the Month
2019 Relentless Fishing Contest Winner
1x XWF World Heavyweight Champion
1x bWo World Heavyweight Champion [despite what Miss Furry or James J. Dildo says]
1x NWF World Heavyweight Champion
2x XWF Xtreme Champion [current]
2x XWF TV Champion
1x XWF Internet Champion
1x NWF World Tag Team Champion (w/Slim)
1x NWF Xtreme Champion
1x NLCW Slamfest Champion
1x LCW Hardcore Champion
3x WWF X-Division Champion
1x WWF World Tag Team Champion (w/Seth Flash)
1x WWF Dark Champion
1x WWF TV Champion
1x EGW Fury Champion
3x XWF Federweight Champion
4x XWF Heavymetalweight Champion
1x 420* Cruiserweight Champion
2x CMW Hardcore Champion
1x XHW T.V. Champion
1x WXC Hardcore Champion
1x XPW U.S. Champion
1x WLFC Tag Team Champion w/Chance
1x WWC T.V. Champion
1x WWC European Champion
1x WWF 24/7Hardcore Champion
2x WLFC 24/7 Hardcore Champion


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[-] The following 5 users Like B.O.B. D's post:
"Loverboy" Vinnie Lane (11-23-2019), Atara Raven (11-23-2019), Ned Kaye (11-25-2019), Noah Jackson (11-23-2019), Theo Pryce (11-23-2019)




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