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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » Leap of Faith 2020 PPV
Mahalo
Author Message
Lacklan Offline
World's best at making murderhobos cry



XWF FanBase:
The 'cool' kliq fans

(booed by casual fans; opportunistic; often plays dirty while setting the trends)


#1
07-15-2020, 11:25 PM



Punches rain down upon the brunette.

save her

The albino rushes forward without hesitation, her heeled boots stomping hard enough to make the scaffold swing. In front of her, a blonde with a face full of red mist attempts to intercede by swinging her fist at her.

do it


The albino ducks under the strike, thrown widely due to being blinded by the mist, and grabs the blonde from behind, the significantly lighter woman being easy to manipulate. She bends the woman over backwards and shoves her head underneath her arm and pins it against her side.

send her


She forces all of her weight down, falling flat on her own back, and pressing down against the woman’s chest with her hands as hard as she can. The sound of the blonde’s head hitting the scaffold with the Abyss Reverse DDT fills the albino’s ears, but the voice in her head pushes her onward.

SAVE HER


Back on her feet, the albino looks down at the blonde and lets vitriol flow from her lips, but then she pushes that desire away and rushes toward the men assaulting the brunette-

your friend, whether you say so or not, Daughter


-and attacks them with her openhand strikes. As the brunette gets to her feet and pushes one man away, the albino grabs the masked man by his mangy hair and-

by any means


-pushes him off the scaffold. The man falls twenty feet down into the ring, landing on his head. The arena goes silent in shock as the man begins to bleed out. Silent except for the deep breaths from the albino as she looks over the bitter fruits of her dark labor.

The Abyss, Daughter


Is deep, Father

“Babe?”

Sarah shakes her head, pushing herself from her daze, and looks around. The image of Kenzi’s caramel beauty, particularly the freckles she has once spent an afternoon finding appropriate names for, helps ground her in the now. Sarah looks down and sees that she is still in her referee gear, a top and shorts colored in the black and white stripes of the position she fulfilled this evening. She blinks slowly, feeling the thick lenses in her eyes, and feels the coolness of dried sweat on her body.

“Um...yeah...sorry...was just thinking.”

Kenzi, adorned in her typical random t-shirt and jeans meant to annoy her fashion-obsessed wife, reaches up and takes Sarah by both shoulders and gives her a small shake.

“Listen, babe: What happened out there? It’s all good. That Graves creep DESERVED it for what he did to Dolly!”

Sarah’s perfectly maintained eyebrows scrunch downward.

“I’ve told you, Beloved, Michael didn’t do ANYTHING to Dolly. She’s being passed around by a Mexican cartel as their communal wife!”

“What? No, that’s stupid. She was eaten alive by that masked idiot, which as forced me to use your dumb interns-”

“...literally not a bit anymore…”

“-and I REALLY miss her! I know you were busy outswimming a helicopter last year at Relentless-”

“...heh...dummy Vita STILL won’t let that go…”

“-but I saw her die!”

“Actually!”

The Grey-Lacklans look up toward the sound of the intruding voice and see a man who makes Kenzi smile and Sarah groan. With a pale face and the sickest pompadour this side of a Morrissey concert in San Diego, Steve Sayors waves towards the two women.

“Dolly was potentially murdered on camera by Azrael, not Michael.”

Kenzi blinks in confusion.

“wut”

Sarah rolls her eyes and sighs.

“The chief alien dude.”

“wut”

“Dropped his sperm in a cow or something to create the Blackwaters.”

“wut”

“Just...God...it wasn’t Michael, alright?! The Michael sex/murder routine with Dolly was from before our time.”

“wut”

Sarah sighs in exasperation and turns back to Sayors.

“Did you want something, Steve? Or are you just jumping right back into your stalker gig now that we’re here?”

Steve’s face blushes and he stammers.

“I...I mean...I don’t…”

“I once literally found you eating out of our fridge!”

“He was doing his job!”

Sarah sighs again as Kenzi backs up the reporter and then motions in a circle with her hands.

“C’mon, get it over with. What are you bugging me about, now?”

Steve recovers from his stammering before and pulls out his tape recorder.

“Can I ask you about-”

“PASHA GIVES ALL THE CONSENSUAL HUGS!”

Into the room bursts a giant of a man, round of face and with a bald head, whose smile splits his face in two. The ground shakes as he makes his way over with heavy footfalls and, scooping all three of them up, from Kenzi to Sarah to Steve, squeezes them with a hug so immense that it drives their air from their lungs and turns their faces red. They stumble as he sets them back down on the ground and gives them a smile wide enough to encompass them all.

“Nice Bosslady waits for me. Pasha wishes you a most wonderful day!”

With a wave of a hand the size of a frying pan, Pasha lumbers off the way he came. In his wake, the three adjust their clothes and gulp in air, before Steve points a thumb at the departing giant.

“...about your involvement with these Trinity interlopers?”

Sarah gives yet another large roll of her eyes.

“Don’t get me started. Listen, I joined this tournament, right? Because that’s what Mama Tournaments does! Look at me in the XWF last year, right? I heard about the March Madness tournament and I enter and BOOM! I win. I heard about War Games and I enter and BOOM! MVP. I hear about the Tag Tournament and my Beloved and I enter and BOOM! We win. That’s what we do, ya know? So I hear about this Revival tournament, or Rebirth, or Rejuvenation, or whatever its called, and I enter. And BOOM! I’m in the finals with THAT match being determined in a few days. And while I’m there, doing my thing? Making dumb bitches cry and wine and ragequit after they get beat? I see this giant ‘XWF’ tagging display. And THEN? I see freakin’ GERI show up and jump some jobbers and spray paint XWF on their backs.”

Kenzi cocks her head in confusion for a second.

“Who?”

Sarah waves her hand dismissively.

“The pothead who is NOT Sativa.”

Kenzi nods in understanding.

“N-E-Ways, everyone’s all ‘OMG WHAT IS HAPPENING WHO IS THIS I VOW REVENGE’ and stuff, right? And I’m just whistling and humming and making sure that my Federweight Championship is hidden inside my bag because they have NO IDEA that I’m at least somewhat associated here, right? And now we’re here tonight, wherein I was the BEST referee there has EVER BEEN...yes, the distinction between a clothesline and a lariat is VERY important, thank you so much...and BOOM! Here’s the Trinity Jolly White Giant coming in with Bosslady and returning the favor. Now, obviously, Pasha had to come over here and pay his respects since I’ll likely be HIS World Champion in a few days, but still! It’s all a little silly. Especially since Ms ‘I show up to work, like, three times a year? Maybe four?’ Geri is somehow THE representative of XWF or something? Sweet Baby Jesus, she’s embarrassing.

“Look, I fully get Vinnie’s history for hiring hot chicks in order to boost ratings and all, but Geri doesn’t register on a gram scale, much less move the needle. She spends all of her time fighting the MadClan alongside the rest of House Vayden in Action and, when she DOES decide to come around to these parts, she spends so much time with her back on the ground that you’d swear she was Myst! I mean, honestly, Mrs. Too High to Know My Own Name has ‘represented’ the XWF by marching straight to the Loser’s Lounge when facing perennial dipshits like Barney Green and Ned Kay...and, yes, I put Nedward’s skill level at the same bottom tier placement as Barney...all the while promising Centy that she’ll stop flailing around like a addled toddler. Now, I have done my fair share of bashing on the so-called ‘elite’ and ‘world class’ within the XWF, but there ARE some badasses here, and Geri being any kind of representation of THEM is like sending out Bilbo and the Job Ber Clan and saying ‘Beat THIS!’”


Sarah pauses and strokes her pointed chin in thought.

“Though, in the case of Bilbo, at least that would be SOMEWHAT original. Geri is, after all, the Goddess of Generalizations. Like, this one time? I was paying attention to her while she was Internet Champ, right? And she was facing off with Ruby, right? And she cuts this Godawful cellphone video from her car...I would never do something like that-”

...Steve and Kenzi share a wide-eyed look that, thankfully, goes unnoticed…

“-and literally everything out of her mouth might well have been constructed by ‘Heel Bot Tron 9000.’ Not only did she drop a bunch of cliches...not as much as Page, but we’ll get to THAT some time next week...but everything she had to say was ‘I’m gonna kill you’ this, or ‘You have no idea what’s in store’ that, or, my personal favorite, ‘I’m a BITCH! And I OWN IT!’ Honestly, it was so generic and devoid of any actual CONTENT that I had to wonder if Todd wrote it for her! OH!”

Kenzi elbow’s Sarah in the ribs and Steve looks on in confusion. After shooting a look at Kenzi, she gives a dismissive wave to Steve.

“Don’t ask. N-E-Ways, that’s the crux of having to face off with Geri at Leap of Faith. She’s going to walk into Saitama with WAY too much on her plate and ZERO proper preparation. She’s challenging for Ruby’s Anarchy title...which, by itself, has a nearly 0% chance of happening...AND then she’s going to face off against five other people in this ladder match? HA! It would be different if she were me, obviously, because that’s what I do. Not to toot my own horn, because I loathe when people do that-”

...another shared look between Kenzi and Steve…

“-but at this event last year, I defended the Anarchy Championship against Noah AFTER I won dat shoe money in the Drezdin Open. And THAT happened because my preparation for matches is beyond compare! While Geri bounces around between multiple federations and prepares for matches by just saying generic things where you can interchange Person A for Person B and no one would notice, I do inSANE research in the companies that I’m fighting for. I don’t just go ‘POP! Here I am!’ and expect to win. I know just as much about the people in THIS match as I did in the Trinity tournament, and as I did when fighting in UGWC, and over in Alpha, and so on. And since I KNOW that Geri is NOT going to put in the effort to actually figure out WHO she is facing for WHAT, I’m confident that she’s going to be so ill-prepared to leap for the briefcase that they might as well put a big ol’ strike across her name before the bell rings.”

Steve blinks several times as he processes Sarah’s stream of words and then gives a small nod.

“Well, speaking of Leap of Faith, what do you think about-”

“Nope!”

Steve backs away reflexively at the sudden interruption.

“Interview done! You asked about Geri and the Trinity folks, and that’s what you get. I’ve been on the road for DAYS and my Beloved and I are headed for some R&R!”

Sarah grabs her bag while Kenzi gives Steve an apologetic smile.

“Steve, I’m sure that Sar will gladly give you an-”

“NOPE! I am DONE with Steve here stalking us!”

She looks back to Steve with a severe expression, the face of the angel turning down into the demon.

“There will be NO trips to the Egg for you! No poolside interviews, no snacking out of our fridge, no playing hoops on Kenzi’s halfcourt, nothing! You got it!”

“But-”

“GOT IT?!”

Steve shrinks away under the keen of the banshee and then gives a sheepish nod. Sarah’s Billion $$$ Smile flashes as she slings her bag over her shoulder and loops an arm around Kenzi’s waist.

“Wonderful! Now, we’re off to Hawai’i!”

Kenzi blinks in surprise.

“We are?!”




Presenting the House of Lacklan Saga Story of:

Leap of Faith, Part I: Mahalo





“And if you look to your right, you will see another endless expanse of ocean which makes one think of the endless struggle to find relevance in a world which moves too quickly.”

Sarah scrunches her nose as she looks up at the speaker above her head.

“Ya know, I think the pilot of our plane isn’t in the best place right now.”

Next to her, Kenzi shrugs her shoulders as she types away on a small tablet on her seat’s tray.

“Can’t say I blame him, Babe. The whole world fucking sucks right now.”

Sarah turns her scrunched-up-gaze to Kenzi and chews on her lips in thought.

“I know, I know. ‘Disparity of equality.’ It’s really bugging you right now. And it should! But you’re also not the one flying the plane above the Pacific!”

She turns her head to the left and tries to get a good look out of the window, but she is too far removed from it. She had, as always, made sure that Kenzi got the window seat, because “Bitches love window seats,” and so could not see past the mass of braids.

“Can you tame your mane for a second? I wanna see the water.”

Without comment, Kenzi uses one of her hands to whip her braids away from her neck and smack Sarah in the face. Sarah sighs as she pushes them away and then lays atop Kenzi’s lap in order to peer out the window.

“Hey!”

“SHHH!”

Sarah’s odd red eyes peer out the window and down into the water below, seeing nothing but the soft ripple of blue.

“My grandparents died in a plane crash, ya know. Over this very ocean. The wreck wasn’t found for weeks.”

Sarah gives her head a small shake and sits back up into her seat, making sure to “accidentally” place her hands on as many of Kenzi’s curves as possible in the process.

“Enough of that, though. We’re here for fun!”

“...and a wrestling match…”

Kenzi’s voice is small but the words cut into Sarah, who looks away.

“Yeah...well...we have a full day and a half of Hawai’ian vacay before that happens!”

Kenzi looks up at the ceiling of the plane and grunts in exasperation.

“WHY do you say it that way?!”

“What?”

“AND THAT, TOO!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kenzi turns her head back to Sarah, her face full of frustration, and points a finger at her.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about! You put emphasis on the ‘h’ in words!”

“It’s not gonna annunciate itself!”

“And no one...and I mean NO ONE...says Hawaii the way you do!”

“It’s Hawai’i, Beloved. I would appreciate it if you were more culturally aware, thank you so much.”

“NOT EVEN HAWAIIANS SAY IT THAT WAY!”

“FIRST OF ALL!”

“Drinks?”

YES!

The Grey-Lacklan’s shout the answer in unison as they turn from their argument to the steward with the cart of drinks, but then Kenzi smiles as Sarah’s face turns as red as her eyes.

“Steve!”

“STEVE?!”

Dressed in the sharp uniform of a Hawaiian Airlines steward, Steve Sayors gives the 5’2” Mafia a nervous smile.

“What...what would you like?”

“Organic Michelob Ultra, please!”

“AN EXPLANATION!”

Steve cowers from Sarah’s explosion as he quickly tries to find the beer requested by Kenzi.

“I...well...you see....”

“I SAID MMPH!”

Kenzi clamps a hand over Sarah’s mouth and she gives Steve a smile as Sarah struggles to push her away.

“Just get her any random red wine you have, okay? She’s not the lush her sister is, but she’d still tap that gross shit into her veins if I let her.”

Steve hurries himself with getting Kenzi’s beer and Sarah’s wine while Kenzi slowly lets Sarah go.

“Now, hear him out, okay?”

Sarah’s face displays a refusal to do that.

“For me? Please?”

After a moment, Sarah huffs out a deep breath and throws her hands out wide.

“Fine!”

She shoots Steve a dangerous look as he sets down the beer and wine, and runs her eyes up and down him with disgust.

“Leave the bottle.”

Steve quickly places the bottle of wine next to the class. Sarah takes her glass and quickly downs the drink in one go before returning her look to Steve.

“Okay, spill it. Why are you here? Stalking?!”

Steve shakes his head quickly.

“No! It’s just...well...I don’t get paid very much by the XWF and I do odd jobs to make ends meet to keep Mrs Sayors happy.”

Sarah rolls her eyes as Kenzi gives him a sympathetic look.

“Trust me, I know what that’s like, Steve. SOMEONE I live with has expensive tastes and I have to work my black ass to the bone sometimes!”

Sarah rolls her eyes again but then gives Kenzi a wink.

“Well...er...since I’m here…”

Much to Sarah’s derision, he pulls a tape recorder out of his coat.

“...can I ask about…”

“NOPE! I OW!”

A sharp elbow to her ribs from Kenzi has her again throwing her arms up into the air.

“FINE! Ask away. But make it quick!”

Steve nods.

“Okay...Leap of Faith...you face five other people for the briefcase. Tell me: How prepared are you to compete against Gage Gannon, who is new to the XWF scene?”

Sarah extends one of her perfectly manicured fingers, the tip black with tiny red spider webs, and begins.

“First of all.”

Steve settles on his feet and Kenzi goes back to her tablet, each ready for a lengthy breakdown.

“I like him.”

It takes several seconds of silence for Steve to realize that was it.

“...that’s...that it?”

Kenzi reaches up and touches Sarah’s forehead.

“Are you feeling okay, babe?”

Sarah smiles and pushes Kenzi away, though not before she takes Kenzi’s hand and gives it a sharp love bite, then regards the reporter again.

“I’m serious! I like him. He’s well dressed, well groomed, and understands the importance of a fine wine!”

She takes up the bottle and pours herself another glass of the red. After doing so, she brings the bottle closer to her face, adjusts her glasses, and winces.

“...unlike this airline…”

She shrugs and places the bottle back down before taking up her glass.

“Honestly, the dude has a shot at being someone important around here. He can be a heavyweight contender!”

She takes a sip.

“And by that I mean ‘in the Heavy Metalweight division.’”

Kenzi sighs and goes back to her work as Sarah’s eyes shine with mirth.

“...ah...there it is…”

Sarah giggles before taking a quaff of her wine.

“Listen, I fully get that Gage thinks he’s badass...and he should! Dude comes from money, which is ALWAYS an awesome thing-”

“...we can’t all come from rich families like you, Babe…”

“-because he appreciates the importance of power. And he takes care of himself and works out hard, which is obvious from his body. Unfortunately for him, the business is FLOODED with people like that. Now, I’m not saying that he himself is as generic as I mentioned Geri’s promos were or anything, because he DOES have a unique voice, but his uber belief in himself regardless of context IS that proverbial dime a dozen in this business. And, sweet Baby Jesus’ beautifully smooth booty, is that a TIRESOME bit.”

She chews on her inner lip for a moment, which causes her infamous dimple pop in a way that makes Steve blush deep red and Kenzi turn a watchful eye on him.

“The major problem with him, of course, is his constant declarations of superiority when he has, at least up to his point, been remarkably average. Mind you, I don’t necessarily BLAME him for thinking that. After all, he DID get the ‘Welcome to XWF - Please Stay Starter Kit’ which includes matches against rabble like Bilbo and Antony’s Idiot Brigade, but unfortunately, he didn’t REALIZE that he was being slow-pitched softballs in a beer league with a shortened outfield. He thought he was legitimately whooping people’s asses! And he found out the hard way that...well...people like Collector and Wizard are far more the speed of the XWF, and he found himself flattened like a squirrel and left for the Roadkill Cafe in Hicksville, Connecticut.”

She shivers suddenly.

“Lord, I hate those cousin-kissing Connecticutians!”

She takes a large drink of her wine and looks back at Steve.

“Of course, that leads us to WHY he has found himself just one of the boys, regardless of the endless stream of boasting. And THAT is because...well...you can only get so far by ripping off other people.”

Steve blinks a few times.

“Huh?”

Sarah extends her fingers, counting off as she continues.

Roody Poo. Monkey Ass. Let them in. Song quotes. And more! It is one thing to be inspired by others, to take what they have done and give it a twist, but a whole DIFFERENT thing to just BE them, ya know? I mean, it’s bad enough that the guy who thinks he’s smarter than everyone else, who claims that his greatest weapon is his mind, consistently doesn’t know the difference between your and you’re...which makes me wonder what kind of simple mistakes he’ll also make in the ring... but on TOP of that he spends half of his time regurgitating other people’s bit! What’s he going to do next, shit in a condom? Get someone banned from Twitter? Become infected by a virus and cuck the president? Those shitty, terrible, trashy, waste-of-everyone’s-time bits belong to other people! And until he can actually do something other than call someone a Hard R and give a REASON for his hopeful victories, other than ‘I’m gonna kick yo ass,’ he’ll just continue to be one of the HUNDREDS of workers who have come through the XWF with nothing to show but a few Heavy Metalweight title reigns, or having the distinction of sneaking a pin or two on an Xtreme champ outside of a match.”

She chews her lips in thought again.

“Though, he IS right about one thing. Hanari is SUCH a piece of crap. Nice to know some things don’t change!”

She turns back to Steve.

“N-E-Ways, thank you for coming to my SAR Talk!”

Steve blinks several times in confusion after Sarah flashes her Billion $$$ Smile and then brings out her phone, and it takes him a little while to understand that, yes, the interview had concluded. His shoulders slump glumly as he turns to the opposite aisle.

“...drinks?”

Plane landed, passengers ushered off the plane and lei’d by the welcoming attendants (which only had a LITTLE giggling from the G-Ls about already “getting laid”), the Grey-Lacklans find themselves pulling their luggage...one bag and a carryon for Kenzi, an entire cart pushed by two airport staff for Sarah...towards the Rent-A-Car. A quick display of Sarah’s California driver’s license, featuring a smile so bright that the worker behind the counter needed to adopt their shades, and the keys are plunked into the hands of the albino while the caramel beauty next to her intakes a deep breath to steady her nerves.

“Now remember, babe, the speed limit in Hawai is-OH FUCK MY ASS WITH A CUCUMBER!!”

The rented car speeds away as Sarah slams her heeled boot down on the gas, the sudden burst of speed and squealing of the tires forcing the airport staff to scatter as so many birds before a hound. The trip to their hotel was, thankfully for Kenzi’s nerves, not long, and her fingers were barely cramped at all from squeezing the seat hard in constant fear of her life. And her stomach barely lurched at all as Sarah passed multiple cars, each time bursting into great speeds and swerving with but a few inches of room for clearance, as she edged her way in front of any packs of cars she found. Eventually, after “winning” against the freeway, she takes the offramp twice as fast as directed and, with a slam of the breaks, turn of the wheel, and sudden acceleration, the rented car drifts through a parking lot and slams to a stop in a space which, from a distance, seemed too small for them.

“BOOM! I am the BEST driver!”

Kenzi touches herself, making sure all of her body parts are still present, as she takes in deep draws of breath. She opens the door and climbs out of the car, happy to be on unmoving ground, while Sarah claps her hands in glee.

Bellhop flagged down, the visually jarring couple that is Team Kickass make their way through the hotel, drawing the usual stares that always accompany them, until they are before their door. Sarah hands the two bellhops enough money in tip to make Kenzi turn green and into their room they go.

“What a KILLER view, Beloved!”

Before the window facing the famously clear ocean and clean beach, Sarah takes in a deep breath of salty air. As per usual in Hawaii, the weather was an impeccable 70 degrees and with a sun that was not too harsh for the albino with the moon-kissed skin. Kenzi joins her for a moment, wrapping her arm around her waist, and smiles down at the beach.

“It IS great. How much did the room cost?”

Sarah coughs violently for a moment, and Kenzi thinks she can hear words in the middle somewhere, but she can’t quite pick them out.

“Wow! Look at the time! I should take a shower!”

Sarah scampers away before Kenzi can question her further about the cost of this spontaneous working vacation, but then she stops at the door to the restroom. She turns her head and pops her hip so that her glutes jutt out just right, and she gives Kenzi a coy smile.

“Care to join me?”

Kenzi trips over her suitcase in her haste to take Sarah up on the offer.

“What the hell?!”

Sarah’s face matches her scream as she looks around the bathroom. The marble floors were as opulent as her tastes demanded, and the vanity was as large and bright as would be expected, but her ruby eyes were locked on the toilet.

“Where the hell is the toilet paper?!”

The two search the bathroom, opening drawers and cabinets, pulling out towels and tossing them about, but their search gives them nothing. All of which causes Sarah to angrily stomp her way to the telephone next to the room’s King-sized bed. A few flicks of her finger and-

“Hello? This is Mrs Grey-Lacklan in Room 517. I would like to speak with a manager!”

Kenzi shakes her head and sighs as how fast her wife went into “Karen Mode” and makes a mental note to-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Housekeeping!”

Both Sarah and Kenzi blink in surprise.

“Wow...that was fast.”

“It’s good to be the Queen?”

Sarah shrugs as she hangs up the phone and makes her way to the door. She opens it, flashes her smile, and-

“Steve?!”

Standing outside the door behind a rolling cart full of linens, dressed in a maid’s outfit with fluffy white frills, is Steve Sayors. The man gives a sheepish smile at the red-faced woman and shrugs.

“Did you need ser-”

“The HELL, Steve! THREE jobs?!”

She cowers before Sarah’s screaming and gives an apologetic smile.

“Well...er...um...when I’m in town after a flight, I take up work while I’m here, and-”

Sarah stomps her foot, spins on her heel, and stomps off.

“YOU DEAL WITH THIS, WIFE!”

Kenzi’s face scrunches in anger.

“Don’t you ‘wife’ me! I’ll make you pay for that out of your ass!”

She turns to Steve and her face turns from anger to a kind smile.

“Come in, Steve! You’re just in time!”

She motions him forward and he slowly comes in, pushing the cart, and keeping a watchful eye on Sarah as she paces by the window.

“You better not want another damn interview!”

He shakes his head and opens his mouth to speak, but Kenzi saves him and pulls him toward the bathroom.

“Listen, Steve, we have a big problem. We’re all out of TP! Can you help us out?”

Steve’s face shines and he nods emphatically.

“Oh, that’s okay! You two must not have been to the island in a while.”

“Not for several months. Why?”

“The distributors have had a hell of a time getting toiletries to the islands since the whole Covid thing started. In fact, getting toilet paper has been nearly impossible.”

Kenzi’s face darkens in worry.

“That’s not good, Steve. What are we supposed to do?”

He smiles and turns to his cart.

“Not to worry, Ma’am! Not to worry. I made a proposition to the heads of the hotel chains and they loved it.”

He pulls out a package of rolls of paper, each covered in script, and a curious Sarah joins Kenzi.

“What kind of toilet paper is that?”

“The kind that never ends.”

He opens the package and hands each woman a roll.

“I told them that, if they wanted an unending supply of paper meant to wipe your butt, look no further than Greggo!”

The two women look at each other in confusion.

“I mean it! If you read the script on the paper, you’ll see. I told them that, if we took transcripts of Greggo promos, we would have a never-ending supply of butt-whipping material.”

Sarah and Kenzi scan the paper and, yes, find that it is full of Greggo promos, both for himself and for his handful of clients over the years. Kenzi nods in understanding while Sarah chews on her lip.

“Well, that is certainly thematically appropriate.”

Steve stands tall with a wide smile.

“You will also find them used for trash can liners.”

Both Sarah and Kenzi look at the trash can and see that, yes, they were lined with Greggo promos.

“Welp! I guess that’s all we literally need to say on THAT subject!”

Sarah turns to Steve, reaches up, and pushes him out of the bathroom.

“Thanks for helping us out, dearie! No, please, bail. We need to freshen up before we get to the beach and go to the luau tonight.”

She leans in and gives a conspiratory whisper.

“...I switched out Kenzi’s bathing suit for one two sizes too small. I can’t WAIT to get her out there!”

“You what?!

Unfortunately for Steve, Sarah successfully pushes him out before any fireworks can start.

A day on a Hawaiin beach was exactly what the Grey-Lacklan’s needed. Kenzi’s bathing suit was, indeed, far too small, and Sarah delighted in far too much of the starlets caramel goods being on display. Kenzi’s revenge, not discovered until after the trip, was to “accidentally” miss a spot on Sarah’s famous “squat booty” when helping her apply her extremely thick Sunblock 5000 and left the shape of Kenzi’s extended middle finger pointing downward. After a relaxing day on the beach, one of few days of relaxation due to Sarah recently returning to her “freelancer” schedule after six months of being exclusive to one company, the two find themselves dressed to impress at a luau.

“...c’mon, Rubes…”

In spite of the entertainment from singers and dancers, Sarah’s face is in her lap more often than not. Roasted pig on their plates with purple potatoes on the side, though with Kenzi’s plate a rare vegetation option, and mai tais galore for the entire shared table, the atmosphere was as relaxed as can be imagined, except for the anxiety on Sarah’s face. Not even the heavy makeup, from base to blush to her traditional red lipstick and black eyeliner wings, could hide the lines of worry.

“Babe?”

Sarah reaches out and takes Kenzi’s hand underneath the table, but her eyes remain locked on her small screen. Kenzi leans over to see what she is watching and understanding dawns on her face.

Ruby Debauchy stands atop a ladder in the middle of a desert, a host of bodies laying in ruins.

“...c’mon...c’mon…”

The Banana-Lime Super Dear’O reaches up, takes a championship title from its position, undoes the straps, and pulls it down.

“THAT’S FUCKING RIGHT!”

The entire room turns their attention to Sarah as she stands up and screams, her hand clenching hard enough to make Kenzi cry out in pain, and pushes her chair back far enough that it falls to the ground. Sarah lets go of Kenzi’s hand and raises her arms into the air, looks up to the sky, and screams. Children cover their ears against the assault of the banshee’s keen until Sarah runs out of air, picks up her chair, and plops herself back down. Kenzi takes the time to apologize to everyone looking at them...as she is wont to do when out in public with Sarah...before turning back to the albino.

“Happy for Ruby?”

Sarah schools her face as she puts away her phone.

“No, that would be silly. Just glad to see that championship, which I once held, in case you forgot, back on someone who doesn’t completely suck.”

Kenzi smiles and nudges Sarah with her shoulder.

“Admit it, Babe: Ruby’s your friend.”

Sarah gives her the deadliest look she can.

“First of all, I-”

“Ooh! Firedancers!”

A hush comes over the audience as the firedancers come out, men and women spinning batons set aflame and tossing them into the air. The women were voluptuous, one of the advantages of visiting the island, as the Grey-Lacklans had once quipped and giggled about, and the men were strong and well-built. But both 5’2” Mafia members notice the same oddity at the same time: One of the men, instead of being a bronze man of thick muscle, was scrawny and pale.

“STEVE?!”

Steve Sayors drops the flaming baton as Sarah screams out his name, and then yelps as it hits his bare foot. He picks it up right away and gets back into the routine with the rest of the troup, and pointedly tries to avoid the disbelieving brown and red eyes of the duo. After the performance, he walks over to them with the sheepish grin which was quickly becoming his custom on this trip.

“...I...um….”

“Are a FIREDANCER in your spare time?!”

“That is SO COOL, Steve!”

Kenzi moves over so that he can sit next to them while Sarah shakes her head. They chat over the inexplicable story of how the reporter became a Polynesian Firedancer, a story which had to be seen to be believed, but a notification on Sarah’s phone breaks up the talk.

“What’s that, Babe?”

Sarah rolls her eyes and sighs.

“A text from Rubes. Just a pic of the Cross-Hemisphere title.”

Like a dog in Pavlov’s experiment, Steve busts out his tape recorder.

“How do you feel about facing Ruby at Leap of Faith?”

Sarah scowls at him but then shrugs her shoulders.

“It’s fine.”

Kenzi kicks her under the table and Sarah scowls again.

“Listen...Ruby is no joke. She never has been. Sure, we don’t exactly share the same world view or anything...big dummy and her ‘ermahgerd save the whales cheating is bad let’s kiss babies’ nonsense...but she has turned out to be an elite wrestler. Just about everyone in the XWF, and the UGWC for that matter, look at her and giggle, right? They make fun of her for her mask, and her pastimes, and some of the dumb words she says. And what has that amounted to in the year and a half she’s been around these parts? A nearly flawless record. I mean, she really really REALLY needs to let that damn L to Noah go, and all, but other than that? She’s beat just about everyone put in front of her. Including me. Twice. Not a whole lot of people can say that!”

“Are you worried she’s going to make it three times?”

Sarah shakes her head.

“Why not? Is there something you know that other people don’t?”

Sarah looks away from Steve and studies the ocean’s lapping waves in the distance.

“Ruby’s legit, Steve. She’s smart. Fast. Can do that flippy shit better than just about anyone I have ever seen use the style. She’s never EVER down on herself. Hell, even when she WAS, even when she felt she didn’t deserve to wear her mask, she was still the most upbeat person you could ever see. But...well...she can’t swim.”

Sarah keeps her eyes on the ocean.

“Ruby is AMAZING while wading. Those short bursts of hers? That’s how she dominates everyone. A lot of people don’t know how to edit themselves, or to keep something short, and they find themselves floundering on Anarchy, particularly against someone like Ruby or me. But when she has to go into deeper water? When she leaves the bay and has to swim?”

She shakes her head.

“She sinks.”

She turns back to Steve.

“Last year, she was the favorite to win the Anarchy Contender’s Tournament, at least in my eyes. Two rounds and no problems, and we were headed for a big rematch at Leap of Faith. But then she got too deep in the tournament and fell to Noah. Later in the year, she joined the Lethal Lottery, and did really well, including pulling the lodestones that are Mastermind and Gilly to victories, but then had to go too deep. She sank, right along with a deranged Vita. The water went over her head and down she went. Even this victory in the UGWC, as impressive as it is to hold the Cross-Hemisphere championship while holding our Anarchy, was still one by way of short bursts. But this? This ladder match? This is deep water.

“Me? I’m a champion swimmer. World Class! Captain of the Swim Team at Lacklanland High! I’m too short to have gone further than that...dumb Olympic teams and their minimum wing span requirements...but swimming is in my blood. I can travel the deep waters of this business with an unmatched depth of skill. Ruby will have to push herself, especially now that she’s holding two belts, in a way she never really has before, and she’s going to get gassed. While I do not foresee any issue getting past Geri earlier in the night, I do not put much faith in her ability to win multiple matches in one night. That is too deep for her. Too deep for her capability to swim. She is going to drown in her ambitions, and while it will pain me...a little...to triumph over my ‘buddy,’ I will do what I must. Does that mean taking her out with some insane Abyss off the top of the ladder? Does that mean leaving her for Page to take care of while I ninja my way up the ladder? Does that mean letting her do a bunch of work, letting her use her talents at short bursts, to take out the competition before I weasel myself into being the briefcase holder? We’ll see.

“Regardless of how it happens, it WILL happen. Ruby will wade into the Anarchy championship match and put Geri down. And then she’ll swim out into the deep waters and get pulled down by a current she didn’t realize was there. And this World Class swimmer will do what she always does: Win big matches in the XWF.”


Sarah looks back to the ocean.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, Mr. Firedancer, I would like to spend what is left of the evening with Kenzi. Big day tomorrow.”

Steve gives a nod, shares a smile with Kenzi, and slips away.

An evening of romance for the Grey-Lacklans is followed by the two entering the sports arena in Honolulu, though both attempting to obscure their faces, with Kenzi wearing an oversized shirt, sunglasses, and a hat, and Sarah wearing a black robe with the hood drawn down. Workers from the arena take notice of the two, but the duo quickly turns away from their vision whenever they can, continuing to hope to not be recognized. And whenever a crewperson came too near, Sarah seemed to emit a coldness, as if the worker has somehow stepped through the wardrobe and found themselves in the path of Jadis’ sledge with Maugrim growling all the way.

“...I really wish you wouldn’t do that…”

Sarah merely smiles underneath her hood at Kenzi’s whisper.

“...it’s a trick I learned from Daddy, Beloved. Comes in handy.”

Ultimately unmolested, the two push through a door and into a small sitting room, with Kenzi locking the door behind them and Sarah scanning the room with slow movements of her head. A simple affair with two chairs, a couch, and a mirror with bright lights.

“Exactly what I asked for.”

Sarah walks to the mirror and places her bag upon the ground, then takes in the mirror, making sure it is large enough. Reaching up with her gloved hands, she pushes back the hood to reveal her terribly beautiful sharp face. It is natural today, with none of her usual makeup, and her frosted eyebrows seem washed out against her skin. She leans toward the mirror and touches her eyes with her fingers, the bright skin standing in sharp contrast to the surrounding black, and a tired sigh slips out from between her light pink lips.

“...exhausted…”

“That’s because you work too many matches, Babe.”

Kenzi comes from behind her and wraps her arms around her waist. Sarah rests her head back on Kenzi’s shoulder for a moment and nods.

“You know I can’t stop.”

Kenzi grimaces as she reaches up and touches the dark bags surrounding Sarah’s red eyes, the signs of the lack of sleep and too many miles and matches. They both sigh as Sarah pulls away and picks up her bag, placing it on the surface of the vanity. After unzipping it, she pulls out a number of items, including a folded plastic bag filled with a black outfit, a hairbrush, a plastic contact lens container, and two masks, one a black facemask dotted with silver studs, the other a strip of red and purple . She sets down every item gently before placing the bag back on the ground and looking back toward the mirror.

“Still carrying around that mask from Ruby?”

Sarah shrugs as she begins to remove her robe. Occasional flashes of pain come to her face as the robe comes up and over her head to reveal the curvy body with strong muscles and large tattoos on her shoulders. Bruises all along her body provide counterpoint to those two tattoos, a hellish white mask on the right and a large cross within a sunburst on the left, which she takes a few moments to look at in the mirror. Behind her, Kenzi removes the black outfit from the plastic and hands it to her, watching with a grimace as she winces while rotating joints as she puts on the outfit, an all black bodysuit, which covers every inch of her pale skin.

“And I STILL can’t believe that you’re that fatass Miko!”

Sarah shoots her a dirty look through the mirror as she takes off her glasses and pulls a pair of her thick lenses from their container. With gentle movements, she slides them into place and, after a few blinks, her odd red eyes turn to purple.

“It’s in honor of Daddy’s first wife. They’d get it.”

Kenzi sighs in disgust as she takes up the brush and begins to work on Sarah’s hair with wild motions, eventually turning her fine locks into a wild and chaotic mane. Once that is finished, she takes the studded facemask and pulls it over her head, adjusting it in the mirror until it obscures everything but her eyes and forehead.

“Besides...as I said a couple weeks ago...some people like when others do the talking sometimes, ya know?”

Kenzi again shakes her head as she pulls down the baseball cap again to obscure her face. But while she agreed to the anonymity “the Great Miko” needed, it didn’t stop her from cheering for her incognito wife.

“Get ‘im, fatso!”

In the ring, surrounded by other masked men and women, Sarah screams as she drives a knee into the face of a random opponent. She hated “that flippy shit,” as everyone knew, but the allure of a spot show, of being in an open battle royal at the inaugural “Lucha Bowl” funded by Alpha Pro Wrestling, in the middle of Hawai, had been too much for the freelancer. And now, here she is, tossing out brilliantly colored wrestlers full of plumage who had more arm drag takedown variations than she could wrap her head around. Men and women of all shapes and sizes, from the giant El Gonzalez del Fuego to La Princessa to

to

to

A scrawny pale-skinned man with a dish towel wrapped around his head who was screaming for his life?

The Great Miko groans as she grabs the towel off the man’s head to reveal Steve Sayors. He looks at the woman in shock moments before she dumps him to the outside with a warning of “Stay there!” Before long, only El Chalupa and Miko were left in the ring, and a well-placed kick sent the man tumbling to the outside and Miko was victorious. Steve tried to escape a few times but Kenzi was there to make sure he stayed put, and after the victory celebration, which included the presentation of a large trophy, Miko pulls Steve into the room Sarah and Kenzi shared.

“What the FUCK, Steve?!”

Steve seems frightened and confused, and that doesn’t change as Miko pulls down the mask to reveal Sarah Lacklan.

“What were you DOING in there?!”

“I...er...ya see...the winner-”

“Got paid a buttload! I KNOW! That’s why I was there!”

Sarah throws her mask onto the vanity as Kenzi slips into the room.

“You could have gotten yourself killed out there, Steve.”

“...I’m not that lucky…”

Kenzi ignores Sarah’s comment and gives the reporter a disappointed look.

“I’m serious! The last couple of matches I had turned me into goddamn Leatherface!”

“Damnit, Beloved! You can’t even SEE the scars!”

Kenzi ignores the rebuke and stays on Steve.

“You stay out of that ring from now on, understand?”

Steve nods.

“You’re right. I should stick to what I’m good at.”

He reaches into his trunks and pulls out his tape recorder.

“So, Chris Page?”

Sarah’s purple eyes flare with indignation...but then she falls into laughter.

“Jesus, Steve…”

It takes her time to quiet her laughter, but she eventually recovers.

“Okay, okay. But only because you’re so goddamn persistent. I like persistence!”

She gives him a wink.

“Maybe someday I’ll tell you about how the Porcelain Princess’ persistence won over the Dark Goddess.”

Kenzi gives a small laugh as she settles onto one of the chairs.

“N-E-Way, Page, huh? Listen, Page is good. Like, REALLy good. But you know what the problem with that is?”

Steve shrugs.

“He’s not great.”

Sarah chews on her lip, as she is wont to do.

“That’s Page’s problem. He’s really good! So good, in fact, that one never has to wonder why he gets opportunities at championships. Sure, he has to rip them out of the hands of Vinnie and Theo sometimes, but no one cries when he gets them. Well, besides Gilly, but he cries about everything that isn’t him being a World Beater. Page is persistent, like you, and he works hard. You never have to worry about not getting content from him! And it’s NEVER going to suck. It’s good. Just...good. Not great. Never great. But good.”

She looks back at Steve.

“When I first came around to the XWF, Main was regularly beating up everyone like they were shmoes as part of the Apex. And when Page came around, it was immediately to fight Main for the title, right? And he got beat. Pretty bad, too, if you ask me. Because while Page is good, Main is great. And then things went a little sideways when Soldier came around, obvs...though Main always called him something like Solider for some reason...and Page got put on the backburner. But then BLAM! Right back into things when he turned Main into a shitposter.”

Sarah giggles.

“I have noticed that a LOT of people around here like to tell Page that he’s the lackey when it comes to Cataclysm, but that’s because they don’t know better. I pay attention to things, as you well know, and I know the truth: Page played Wormtongue to Main’s Théoden and turned the baby-kissing dude Rubes would want to bang six times a day to a mask-wearing weirdo listening to Rob Zombie and really digging some Eli James church burning sessions. On the bright side, that led to a REALLY pissed off Main with a chip on his shoulder that led the way to the Sick Cunts getting their asses kicked, but it ALSO brings to light Page’s ‘good but not great’ problem.

“Now, I’m not going to say what a LOT of people say with that whole ‘Main carries Page’ line, because that’s just silly. Speaking as a Tag Team Wrestling Expert, its’ all ABOUT carrying one another! I have been in a LOT of teams and the vast majority of the time I’m the better of the two...and I’m literally the first person to tell you that position is reversed in the 5’2” Mafia...but that is what it is! Page’s brightness is dull when compared to Main’s, and that’s fine, but then it REALLY dulls when he has to be all by himself. Now, I MIGHT have missed something as I delve into the archives and records and such, but as far as I can tell, Page hasn’t held a singles championship in XWF in a decade. Maybe more! Plenty of shots...Universal with Main, Television with TK, and more...but never any gold around his waist that wasn’t with assistance. And that’s an example of the ‘good but not great’ paradigm. When left to his own devices, without Main to bounce ideas off and find a stronger filter, he devolves into a pothead that would make Geri turn green with envy who rambles more about his own overstated prowess than an appropriate analysis of his opponent. And THAT comes into play when he gets in the ring with people who ARE great, even flash-in-the-pan greatness like dollar-grubbing TK, and he finds himself unable to seal ANY of the deals he wants.

“Page is like most of the people who call themselves ‘legends’ in this sport: A list of accomplishments longer than I am tall and a sketchy ability to repeat them NOW. He spends most of his time falling back onto cliches...more on that next week...and hyping himself up to the point of mania based on his former victories, and not enough on understanding what is in front of him NOW. And unfortunately for him, I excel at the NOW. I excel at taking time-honored warriors, whether they be heroes or villains, and making them look in the mirror. So while Page, much like Gannon, is likely to spend most of his time preparing to win ‘just because,’ I will do what I always do: Overwhelm everyone in the XWF and leave them wondering what just kicked them in the face and wrapped them up.”


Sarah...finally...pauses, and she gives Steve a smile.

“Hey, Steve? Here’s a bonus clip for you, since you were so persistent the last few days.”

Sarah reaches into her bag and pulls out her phone. After a few button presses, a live feed begins.

“HIIIIII-iiiiiiii!

This is your reason for being, the plane dropping a bomb larger than the next three combined, Sarah Lacklan here, and I wanted to say something real quick:

I’m not here to make friends.

I’m not here to play grabass in the halls.

I’m not here for a good time.

I’m not here to con Kenzi into having sex on Vinnie’s desk again.

I’m not here to play around.

I’m here to WIN.

Leap of Faith, a big time and big money match, held in the country where, get this, my father trained to be a wrestler AND I spent my honeymoon?

Too much to resist.

I am here for the briefcase, kiddos.

And I WILL have it.

Mahalo.

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