Please Login or Register to get full access to the forums.

Lost Password?
Current time: 03-29-2024, 06:44 AM (time should display as Pacific time zone; please contact Admin if it appears to be wrong)                                                                


X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » Leap of Faith 2020 PPV
Wrestlers Of No Regard
Author Message
Scott Charlotte Offline
Shhhh



XWF FanBase:
Drug addicts, rebels, weirdos

(the villain you love to hate; has cult following; may deal drugs on side)


#1
07-12-2020, 12:23 AM

[Image: fear_toxin_rachel.jpg]



Tonight, in the first of our Wrestlers of No Regard documentary series we brought our cameras to a downtrodden pro wrestler attempting a comeback that many say is one too many. My name is Clarence Clandecker and this is…Wrestling TONIGHT.

Born in abandoned riverside shack that used to host wild parties between a Shepard, a Wet nurse and their pet Goat, Simon. Scott Charlotte was never destined for greatness, but he was destined for being heard of. Left to his own devices by his father, mother, and Goat half sibling he grew up on the streets of Charlotte, North Carolina.


Scott: Sesame street was all the rage back then. I mean you had kids coming into to school wearing Big Bird shirts and tossing loaded Tickle Me Elmos. It was like the wild west.

Yes, we were told before this broadcast that he meant the actual streets, but it seems journalism has once again lost the day. As he grew out of his Bert and Ernie phase, Scott welcomed the loving sounds of music to be his parents.

Scott: Phishsack, Dumbtruck, Ross and His Underbites, Foot. These were bands that nobody listened to but they spoke to me. They told me to buck up, kiddo and go burn down a church or something.

Burn down a church he did. Scott was arrested for arson at the age of 14 after setting a local church on fire. He was acquitted, however, after it was discovered that the church in question was found out to be nothing more than a children's play toy for religious dolls.

Scott: North Carolina may be a cesspool for the uneducated and vile, but at least it is not South Carolina.

After his moment of rebellion, Scott decided he would be something better than what his, in this reporters’ opinions, "real" bands were telling him. After falling through the ceiling at a wrestling school, no doubt a fall caused by his love of squirrels, Scott was made to clean the school to pay for the broken windows.


Scott: It was crazy. I never thought cleaning up blood and white clouds would push me into becoming a wrestler.

Clarence: White clouds?

Scott: Oh, it's that stuff that comes out of boy’s tooter rockets. Something my mom used to say when she was not high. Or maybe she was high, I cannot recall.

After another uneasy dialogue from our subject, we decided it was time to move on and continue things in a more intimate setting. Scott brought me and the crew to his two-bedroom apartment in NoDa which is short for North Davidson. Once we arrived at the quaint dwellings of a madman, he decided to further prove how mad he was.

Scott: Now, before we enter, I think it is time I get out of here and let him lead the way.

Clarence: Who would that be, Scott?

Scott proceeded to smile and place a finger over his mouth shushing us. He reached deep into his pants, seemingly enjoying his quest, and pulled out a mask made from an old sack. Tied around the sack was a noose. He put it on and that is when his demeanor changed.

The Wraith: Hello. Welcome to my lovely abode. Would you like to come in?

We were shocked to see this normal, yet idiotic, man become so well spoken. He straitened his back and walked almost like an Englishman which reminded me far too much of home. He fumbled for his keys for a moment as we stopped and stared.

The Wraith: This is embarrassing. They should be in one of these pockets.

His jeans were covered in pockets to the point that he almost resembled a rather large knapsack.

The Wraith: Wait a minute.

He paused and placed his fingers into his right eye almost assuredly poking his eye.

The Wraith: A bit awkward, but nevertheless we may continue.

The key had been found, underneath his mask or his eye socket; I decided not to ask. He opened the door cautiously, looking in for a moment then back at us.

The Wraith: My roommate may be sleeping. He works nights regularly and when I am here on my off days, he gets quite rude when he awakens. We may proceed but please...

He places his finger over his now rotten looking mouth shushing us once again. As the three of us file in, Scott or The Wraith gingerly takes off his noose and hangs it on the coat rack. My cameraman, Phil, makes a move past him and he places a hand gently on his chest.

The Wraith: We are a Japanese household here, sir.

Pointing at Phil's shoes, The Wraith smiles through crusty fabric. We oblige and remove our shoes attempting to be silent in the scuffle. We leave the door's entrance and proceed to the living room area. It is connected to the kitchen and surrounded by two doors leading the rooms. Within the kitchen I make out another door that is open and reveals the bathroom. The house is quite dirty in regard to the kitchen and bathroom. Grime covers the counters, dirty dishes soaking in water, crude drawings cover the fridge with one reading "Open for Business" next to what could be described as a man's winking third eye. The bathroom had a smell come through that I was not prepared for and decided it best to hold it for the duration of the interview. We sat down across from each other in the living room. Scott on the brown, leather couch and myself on the yellow reclining chair next to him that was not shut completely. A table sat between us with magazines and books that contained little roaches scurrying out from our sudden force of entry. A rather large TV floated in front of us. It clearly was the nicest thing in the house. Below sat different gaming systems from all marks of life that Scott warned us not to touch.

The Wraith: They are his. (He pointed at the door to our immediate left) Groucho Marx is a bit stingy with his possessions.

A cheap smile and a cheap laugh for the odd individual is all I could give him in reply.

The Wraith: So. (He said while crossing his right leg over his left.)Where shall we begin? It seems we stopped right around the time I joined the academy.

Clarence: Right, yes. So, you were a janitor I take it?

The Wraith: Janitorial work is one of the greatest degrees any in our country can get. I learned so much from cleaning and caring for the academy that it helped me understand the value in life.

Clarence: Quite poignant compared to your last statement on the matter.

The Wraith: Yes. Scott is very...lackluster in his speech. Vulgar even. I prefer to take a more nuanced approach. Have you ever read Alistair Grimm's Odditorium?

Clarence: No, I am sorry, I have not quite heard of it.

The Wraith: That's all right. It is not incredibly old, but it is quite the read. It tells the story of a young boy who is whisked away to a flying castle and he is saved by a magical man. This man gives the abused boy a second chance at life. No longer would he be sweeping chimneys for the angered citizens of his wretched town. He would be performing duties under the love and care of a powerful man and his disciples. Rather, his employees. This book gave me a new perspective on the life I lived. An abused boy who found his way into a new circumstance that some would deem once in a lifetime. These circumstances would take him to new lands he never thought possible. He would face enemies of great strength and find love in the process.

Clarence: Like you did with Violet.

The mere mention of the name sent shivers down my spine. A glare only seen in demonic thrillers by the evil portrayed was given to me.

The Wraith: WE...have not reached that part of the STORY. Besides, I speak of only the love a family could bring.

Clarence: Ah, yes...my mistake.

His anger subsided as he made a quick glance to the left door.

The Wraith: For a moment I thought Grumplestiltskin would be on us. No, I found the love of a family in that academy. Months passed as I watched the daily routine of wrestling godliness. I even went to a few shows in my time off. One day, the coach spotted me trying some of the moves in the ring. He was unhappy that I had broken into practice, but he could not let the opportunity to teach go to waste. My coach began drilling me on different moves and had me run the ropes until I passed out. He let me sleep in the office that night and when I awoke the next day, he offered me a chance. If I still cleaned occasionally, Coach would allow me to take classes with him and the other students. I had just turned fifteen and was starting to think of the future. That was the day I realized what I wanted to do.

Clarence: Become a professional wrestler.

The Wraith: Yes, but I had a desire for pain. For others and me.

He smirked and I recoiled. This Wraith was something far different than i expected. This was only the beginning of my fears.

The Wraith: Pain is a feeling made of the Gods themselves. Don't you agree?

I nodded haphazardly hoping to move on from the topic, but he insisted we continue.

The Wraith: I see myself as the one true son of Pain. The only one who can show everyone what the creator really has in store for us. For me and you and you and you.

He made a dramatic go about pointing at each of us.

The Wraith: We are all but one being split apart so they may experience what pain feels like. Isn't that interesting? A god so deeply saddened by their unfeeling nature that they created an entire world! It's beyond righteousness! It's beyond incredulity! IT'S BEYOND-

The left door swung open and large, balding, and buff man walks out in only his white underwear. He was godlike in prowess, forgive the irony, and looked as if he had just been awakened unceremoniously. He pushed back his long, blonde hair and stared daggers at Wraith.

The Wraith: Oh, was I being too loud again Keith?

Keith: Yes, Scott. Please I'm trying to get my hours in before my shift at Applebees. I really need you...to be quiet.

He said the last in a whisper and The Wraith nodded his head in compliance.

The Wraith: Sure, sure. Won't happen again.

Keith stood for a moment puzzled by the camera and me. He pointed at us with a confused expression.

Keith: You doing...porn?

The Wraith: (With a hearty laugh) No! Not in the slightest. You know I wouldn't do that without you, my man.

Keith: (Chuckling back) Alright, better not. We got that pact. You in front. I'm in back. Whoever’s in the middle, is the middle. Gotta finish that bucket list, bro.

The Wraith: Hey what would you like for dinner?

Keith: Eh, I got sprouts in the fridge gonna go ham on. You can have some if you'd like.

The Wraith: Nah... dog, I'm good. Gonna get some wings later thought you would like some.

Keith: Preesh. Alright, you have fun with Dollar Tree Michael Caine and his bear friend. Try not to be too rough.

He gave a hearty pat on the back to Wraith and left for his room. In all my years of journalism I will never understand that moment. Wraith looked for a moment to confirm the door closing. He turned to me and without missing a beat continued in a whisper.

The Wraith: It is beyond the universe.

Unable to make out his words I nodded with a smile as if he had a gun and were threatening me with my life. The sooner we were done the better I would be. The better Phil would be. He was sweating bullets.

The Wraith: Now, let me order those wings and we have got ourselves a story. Chapter Three; The Test.

He stood and walked to the kitchen looking for a menu.

The Wraith: You want buffalo, teriyaki, garlic parm? What is your fancy?

Clarence: None for me thanks, it is only 3:00 pm and I ate a large lunch.

Phil raised his hand behind the camera.

Phil: I'll take Cajun.

The Wraith: Phil, you are a messenger of the Gods.

He smiled wickedly and began to enter a number into his cordless land line. I turned to Phil and whispered.

Clarence: Cajun? Really?

Phil: It's good.

Clarence: No, I do not care. We cannot do this anymore. This man is clearly insane, and I am not doing another suicide documentary. Not again. Tell him you changed your mind and realized you were not hungry.

Phil: But I am. I didn’t eat. I drove. Remember?

Clarence: Look, I am sorry. I saw the Bojangles. I loved the name. I could not help but try it and I did not feel it was professional of me to feed you. For safety reasons.

The Wraith: Interesting conversation, gentlemen?

He was behind me. I never heard him move, I never heard the call end. Did he hear what we said?

The Wraith: It will be an hour before they are here, but it never takes that long.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

The Wraith: It takes longer.

I decided I hated journalism that day.



_________________________________________________________


Epilogue



I hope you have enjoyed my little presentation. Do not fret, little ones. It is only the beginning. To move forward I felt like we needed to revisit the past. The past is ever pushing us forward.

It places me in my first match back. A pay per view match in fact. The big time for all the demented patients we have here. What better way to restart other than opening the night? Ten of us shall walk into that ring and nine shall be projected over the top rope.

When a mother bird knows it's time for her children to leave the nest, she chucks them out, hoping their little baby wings will flap. If they do not, then...splat. A meal for a dog. We all hope to fly at Leap of Faith. That is what we strive for, but most of us shall only be dog meat in the end.

The mother bird wants to take all her children, but she knows that is not how nature works. Nature is pain. Oswald knows this. He fought in garbage, not just on Thursday night, but throughout his life. He seeks to recycle his broken mind with others he sees as his equals in pain. B.O.B. A group of downright nasty villains who want to bring pain to the forefront of the XWF.

Is that not what we all want? To bring pain to our victims in that ring. He is formidable, but I have reawakened from my long slumber. Years passed as I watched the garbage unearth itself in this place. Old trash and new.

Brian Storm is formidable. He dominates. He understands how to use pain. He is someone to be careful of, but inside he is just like us. He is scared and alone. A man without a chance if the conditions are met. The gulls will see his rotting corpse and peck until there is no longer any meat on the bone.

Bone that shall be picked first by Michael Mcbride. I know little of this man. He alludes me. He hides from me, but we shall soon see if he will do whatever it takes to win. This is a match made to propel the victor to a seat with the lords of the XWF.

Mcbride is not the chosen, but he one who climbs through tooth and nail just to get what he wants. I see it. I see the others that allude me. Liam Roberts. Shattered by the Storm in a pathetic wake. Dick Powers. His claim is one of the minds, to get you to go to the gutter with him immediately. To bring shame on us all not seen since the low hanging fruit that is Peter Gilmour.

Robbie Bourbon. His thoughts are irrelevant and is only something wants when they need to forget. Doktor Trust makes you forget, but in a surgical sense. He lobotomizes the people with every move he makes. Captain Acab is children's fairy tale with hopes that Pan will come to set him free from his pain. Andrew Logan and Mackenzie Wright are nothing to me and are nothing to you. Show me where I am supposed to care?

Then we have...Azrael Erebus. A specter in my mine. Someone I shall not forget, but I do not know why. He answered the call that I decreed. He was the only one other than his own kin that felt it wise to share with me. He is my greatest challenge. I know it. A doting father with lackluster appeal, yet a strong arm that will show me what I want. The PAIN that I desire is only a few feet away. Yes. I will eliminate them all until it is just us. I will feed off their pain until the climax of our fight and then...only then...will I give permission to fall. You lost a chance at a championship. How sad. Let me ease those struggles with my own. You will make an excellent plaything.

Without question, I will be flying free that night. I will be next to the mother bird flying to new horizons while you all fertilize grass that I will piss on. Pain is the only answer, my little birds.




(1x) Hart Champion
(1x)X-treme Champion
(1x) Tag Team Champion w/ Q.C. Thug

Current Record


[Image: p_197-329-tragedy-comedy-270x270.jpg]



Edit Hate Post Like Post
[-] The following 2 users Like Scott Charlotte's post:
The Brothers Blackwater (07-12-2020), Theo Pryce (07-18-2020)




Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)