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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare RP Board
THOUSAND YEAR STORM
Author Message
Thunder Knuckles™ Offline
A No Good Bastard



XWF FanBase:
The 'cool' kliq fans

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


#1
06-29-2021, 06:33 PM




The Bastards, having learned of the existence of an XWF and Magic the Gathering crossover, agreed to let a group play at their strip club.

What could possibly go wrong?

THOUSAND YEAR STORM

Club B.O.B., an oasis and refuge on the prairies of rural Texas, allowing travelers of distinguished taste to enjoy libations, live fully nude dancers, and the most impressive hot dog buffet in the world. Within, however, a good portion of space is taken up by nerdlings with all the sex appeal of a ficus tree and half of the personality. Double the amount of dudes have shown up to play Magic as the last time we saw, alienating dancers, drinks, and eating way too many hot dogs without spending money. Bobby is seated among them, looking intently at everything happening at the table.

I play this guy!

Bobby looks incredibly pleased with himself having twiddled some cardboard about. TK stands behind him, trying to follow along, but also looking frustrated.

Uh, Bobby, there's twice as many of these guys here, and they're taking up floor space.

That’s okay, bud, these guys are pretty cool! Lawrence, over there is playing his black deck!

One of the other guys at the table twiddles some cardboard.

I cast Doom Blade, destroy your creature.

Bobby looks less than pleased. His prized maneuver undone by this doofus in a bad t-shirt, he angrily moves the card he just played over to a rather large discard pile.

These guys are kicking your ass.

Bobby grumbles.

All part of the learning process. Pass turn.

The guy next to Bobby draws a card.

Okay, I cast…

The guy prattles on as both Bobby and TK turn and watch the stunning Brunette on stage. She begins to dance exquisitely as patrons crowd the stage, ready to tip her. Barney Green turns the music up just so to highlight her every elegant and seductive move, her body seeming to flow and glide through existence itself, becoming pure art in the act. As erotic as it all is initially, the finesse and wonder displayed is nothing short of miraculous. That is, until, it's rudely interrupted.

Excuse me, can you turn that down?

Yeah, I need to hear what he’s doing, I may have responses.

Barney rolls his eyes.

I CAST CASH IN! I CONTROL A LEGENDARY CREATURE AND HAVE PAID ONE OF EACH MANA! SINCE MY CREATURE KILLED ANOTHER CREATURE I WIN!

The rest of the table looks kind of happy as the smug nerd declares this. Bobby rolls his eyes and starts cleaning up his cards. TK shakes his head in disbelief.

This shit seems fucking lame.

I'll get the hang of it.

Did you get any expensive cards?

I think I did. I bought a case of Xtreme Warfare boosters for two thousand dollars.

TK's eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets.

Goddamn!

Yeah, I got a bunch of cool stuff, including this!

Bobby holds up a card and shows it to TK.

[Image: SuXJY8j.png]


Dude, check it out! Now nerds everywhere can Bobbybomb people!

Is that really a good thing?

At another table, Diamondback, the man who can blend into any crowd, is seated with another group of players. One of them plays a card.

Bobbybomb!

The weakest sounding declaration of the term ever recorded seems to sting Bobby’s ears. TK giggles.

Some fucking Bobbybomb! Why don't you go over there and show them a real one!

Bobby rubs his chin, thinking about it for a minute.

Do it, Bobby. Wreck that nerd.

I'm going to kick his ass.

Yes!

Bobby stands up and pounds his right fist into his left palm.

At Magic!

No!

Thunder, look, I get it. You know how I get…

Impulsive and deep diving but not really forward thinking when you get a taste for something.

Right. I haven’t even been to our hot dog buffet once since we set it up. And I know how you think, you don't give a shit about this geeky ass stuff and would rather have space for more bump and grind on the floor, specifically with paying customers.

Fucking right!

Well, this is the only way. Look at these guys.

TK sneers as he beholds the group of dorks playing Magic.

Bunch of fucking losers.

Well, yes and no. Are they wealthy business owners? No. Do they beat the shit out of people? No. But they have their own little arena. They sit down, play this extremely nerdy card game, and feel like kings because it gives them a sense of purpose.

Like I said, they're a bunch of losers.

That’s besides the point. Now, we could wreck these dinks with our eyes closed. I'm pretty sure cock-eyed lispy one-legged Ramon who works in the kitchen could kick their ass in a fist fight.

The camera pans and we see a man who is cock-eyed with a prosthetic leg standing there. He points at the table.

Yer right. Thothe nerdth are a bunth of puthies and I will thrangle them for nothing.

TK looks over at Ramon and gives him a thumbs up. Bobby and TK exchange a no look fist-bump.

Good idea hiring him.

I thought you hired him.

Bobby and TK look at each other and shrug. Bobby does it as his own pace, TK does so exactly as long as Shawn Warstein would.

Anyhow, if I really want to beat them, I have to beat them at their own game.

And I say fuck their own game.

TK’s phone buzzes. He looks down at it and rolls his eyes.

Whats is it? Is it Jimmy?

No worse. It's the fucking QuagCup people.

That twitter mess?

Yeah, it’s all about Twitter beef. You know goddamn well that no one brings the heat like ‘Ol Thunder Knuckles. Well, other than Bobby Bourbon of course.

True that.

Them No Good Bastards no give their patented no look fist bump. At that moment one of the nerds wants a ruling.

JUDGE! I NEED A RULING!

Bobby looks around.

What's wrong?

Well, I played this card right here, and then he played that card. Both cards say this, but we're not sure of the interaction.

TK rolls his eyes as Bobby pulls out his phone.

Hold on, I'll check.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~





**PREACH**



It’s after hours of operation at Club BOB where we meet up with Them No Good Bastards ready to shoot on EXP, Cooper and Stone.

Eobard at one point said there is no weak link in Landfill.

As TK is saying this he chuckles out the last words.

There sure as fuck doesn't seem to be much of a strong link either. Can't have a weak link if they're all Twinkies.

Yeah, mother fucker, Uh-huh. Anyway, this shit hawk says he’s the brawn, Cooper is the experience, and no team has what they have. Shit, for that matter Cooper said something just as goddamn dumb too. How’d Cooper say it?

TK stops to ponder while, biting his right index finger’s nail, while holding up the international signal for one second with his left.

Talking some shit about Eobard… How the fuck did he say it? Oh yeah, something like, Eobard and Cooper don’t share flesh or blood.

TK looks over at Bobby. Bobby shakes his head no.

Neither do we. ‘Ol Thunder Knuckles isn’t sure why that would make you a better tag team but, hey! Who the fuck am I to judge. If you think sharing a womb would breed badasses, sure, maybe, but neither of these men’s mothers amounted to more than ten dollar scratch-off lottery tickets. Redneck 401k, folks. It never works but they could be rich someday, damnit. Aw shit, I gotta get back on point. Cooper said these two dumb fucks share a goddamn soul, bro!

TK looks over at Bobby, again. Bobby again shakes his head no.

Oh, fuck, Bobby! We better watch out! The guy who thinks he’s the goddamn brawn while Thais Watts carries the dead weight of a whole fucking stable.

Wait, which one?

Eobard.

Oh, they both suck so bad I can’t tell them apart by name.

Fucking bunch of goddamn stupids, that’s what they are Bobby! They were so upset when the field in Tag turmoil ignored them that they made the most idle of all fucking threats, man. One of’em can’t remember at this point probably Eobard he seems like the dumbest of the two. Anyway, He said it was going to be hard when the Tag Team Titles come home! To them.

Us?

No, Them.

Them No Good Bastards?

Well, that’s fucking obvious but no EX3.

Eee Ecks Pee.

Right! It’s been two fucking months since those two shit stains have tagged against anyone worth a shit.

They did go up against Thad together, in a handicap match.

And fucking lost.

Thunder Knuckles holds up two fingers on his left hand, and one on his right. He then slowly moves his left hand two his right. Once the two fingers meet the one finger TK holds his arms out over exaggerating a shrug. Shawn Warstein would be up in arms over this blatant disrespect.

Ask Thad if he wants to fight Them No Good Bastards in a handicap match. Bet I know the goddamn answer to that.

Bobby smiles and holds out his backhand to remind Thad what’s up.

Even a monkey knows the answer to that one.

Jimmy tells me there was even some kind of goddamn debate between, the two fucking toolbags, that Dean Rose-

Thunder Knuckles looks up, kisses his index finger on his right hand while marking across like the Catholics do. Back down to the camera.

-God rest his soul, would get dismantled by Thad. Don’t get me wrong that wasn’t what was debated. What was debated was which one of them wouldn’t suck as bad as the other.


TK slowly turns his head over to Bobby

Bobby?

Yes, Mr. Knuckles?

Are these guys for fucking real? Is management fucking with us? I think management is fucking with us. These guys have to be the dumbest fucking group we’ve come up against yet. They don’t even have faith in themselves. How the fuck are they going to come out here in front of the XWF fans around the world and say some shit like.

TK clears his throat to sound like a Magic the Gathering nerd, which he now has experience dealing with.

We’re going to win because we’re rough, and we’re tough! Cooper got his first win so that means we’re going to do good, yeah!

TK gives his absolutely brilliant jerking-off hand gesture.

While we’re on the topic of these fucking failures and Tag Turmoil. Can you believe the fucking balls on Stone? Hoping they’d come out first and run some kinda gauntlet or some shit. They were the last fucking team out of the back! That alone should have given them the clear goddamn advantage. Nope, The Disinfectants got rid of Landfill the germs and advanced to lose to us.

THEM NO GOOD BASTARDS!

Seriously though, those guys? Shit. We could run the table on everybody from Tag Turmoil, in fact, we fucking are running the table on everybody from it, but EXP? Shit. Steven Cooper is as useful as a wet fart, an excuse to get up and go to the bathroom. And how the fuck has this guy been around so long and done so fucking little? Trooper Cooper the bed pooper. This guy has one foot in the grave for fucks sakes, he's almost 60, I guess he stayed healthy for so long by doing so little. This guy was probably losing matches before I was born. Steven, I gotta ask, what is it like walking into the locker room as the oldest guy there but the lowest man on the fucking totem pole? Dude, you're staring down Social Security checks soon, and to think you could have spent your life doing anything else and maybe, just maybe, could have been successful. You could have tuned pianos. You could have woven baskets. Imagine that one, Steven Cooper brand baskets. If you want a basket that's super, call Cooper. Also, if you want a mentor that'll lead you to cough up the Hart Championship to Thaddeus Duke, call Cooper. Jesus, you might only have the one win in the XWF, but you gotta give credit to Steven for derailing a championship reign. I mean, he ruined his own guy's championship, but I give credit to you for pulling poor Ned Kaye down low enough so Thad could pin him. Fuck me sideways, what do you call these guys?

Cooper can't even keep up with his goddamn fit bit challenges let alone Them No Good Bastards. To answer your question thought Bobby. That’s fucking easy! Their name is Landfill.

Heh, but landfills serve a purpose. I would say these guys are dead weight. Oh, damn, we missed out, TK, we totally could have done a lampoon of Hanging With Mr. Cooper for these assholes. Nah, nah, I take that back, the dregs of the tag team division aren't even worth hiring the actors necessary for a BOBTube production. Before I say anything else, though, before I go down another bomb track, to Steven Cooper, I want to say 'you're welcome'. Facing us, for these tag team titles, is the highlight of your long ass but pointless career. Bright lights, big city, Them No Good Bastards become the Dukes of New York, A-Number-One, top of the heap, like Sinatra sang about when he was giving Mrs. Cooper the vapors. The pity, though, the shame of it all is we don't get to give the people of the Big Apple a match, no. We don't get to show them how we fuck shit up from uptown to downtown, Harlem to the Battery, in the Village or Hell's Kitchen. Nah, we just gotta dispatch of EXP, which will be more of a promotional appearance than a match as we crumple Cooper and Stone up like the newspaper from the bottom of a birdcage, old and full of shit, then smile for the crowds in Times Square. These people deserve better. We deserve better. A bag of potatoes and a paper clip would pose a more serious challenge for the Tag Team Championships. Get a birthday clown to come and make a couple of balloon animals for us to fight. Shit, have open sign-ups in any given arena, get a father bringing his kid to our match a shot at our belts. Go down to the local homeless shelter and offer two guys a couple of sandwiches to fight us. Hell, go to a morgue and drag a couple of stiffs out of their bags and the oddsmakers on Sports Book and in Vegas would give them more respect. Fuck, TK, take this shit over!

Cooper may have gotten your ass out of that shit shop you own, Eobard, but he isn’t getting you out of the ass beating you take in Times Square. My partner and heterosexual lifemate Bobby Bourbon, has already fucking warned you two shit heels that it’s your goddamn end days, boys. You went and pissed the big man off. I haven’t seen him this jacked-up on adrenaline and hate since, well, last Warfare. Nevermind. You see, unlike some of our processors-

Predecessors.

Right, unlike some of our predecessors we’re going back to back. Defending these belts as few fucking have. If we were in the White House they’d be talking about our first hundred days in office, like, holy shit! These are the best Presidents we’ve ever had. That’s right, folks because if we were running for president we’d be Bourbon/Knuckles for president. Not one of us taking the back seat to the other. Fuck and no. The presidency shouldn’t just be a one-man show because it’s not a one-man fucking job, am I right? Anyway, I’m not normally the guy to take up for many people but on occasion when I hear some dumb shit. I point out the goddamn dumb.

Thunder Knuckles winks into the camera.

Now, Eobard said something about R.L. Edgar that may be borderline senile. Does anyone know if Stone was checked for fucking concussions or anything before getting a job in XWF? First the Marf thing now this? Fucker was all like, Had Edgar not gotten in fucking Ned’s way, there may have been a spot in Landfill for him. Then the mother fucker went and thanked God, that’s right, thanked God that Edgar did get in Ned’s way. Looks like the wheels are turning boys lets see what Eobards got! He thanked God because they may have...wait for it... Let a fucking idiot in the group.

TK and Bobby Bourbon begin laughing so hard that Them No Good Bastards are basically holding each other up right. This laughter is crippling, folks.

Then he…

TK can’t stop laughing and neither can Bobby.

Wait…

TK is trying to regain composure and almost does before Bobby starts losing it again.

Seriously, seriously…

TK is holding the laughter in just long enough to get his next lines out.

Eobard said, that's the last thing we need.

TK couldn’t hold his laughter in any longer and almost falls over while joining Bobby in laughter. TK after a few mins of laughing is forcing himself into a serious tone.

Alright, alright, alright, fucking enough of that. Enough of that. Where was I going? Oh yeah, next topic. Bobby, did you know these two have a tagline?

They do?

I guess, Stone is credited with it. It might just be something they’re trying working out. It goes like this, when you're dealing with EXP, you're dealing with the next level!

TK looks dumbfounded at Bobby. Bobby begins shredding that line like one would smoked gouda for a Dutch baby recipe.

The next level? Of what, exactly? Are you fucking guys a parking garage. Oh, wait, I get it. I get it, TK! These mental fidget spinners are talking about video games! So, when we face EXP, or Egregiously Xtreme Piss-ants, it's like we’re moving on from Los Santos to San Fierro in San Andreas! It's like we’re moving from the Kokiri Forest after clearing out the Deku Tree to visiting some Gorons in Ocarina of Time! It's like we went from making enormous hamburgers on a zany series of platforms to making more enormous burgers on another cockamamie structure in Burgertime! It's novel, it's cute, but, heh, ultimately it's dopey because like almost all video games, EXP is designed from top to bottom to get beat. We don’t need cheat codes, we didn’t buy a Game Genie. This is Street Fighter 2, I even do the fucking Shoryuken uppercut, and you're just the next challengers jumping in to get your asses beat. This is Mortal Kombat, and when it comes time and they say 'Finish Him' expect brutality. Nah, TK, these idiots were looking for us and trying to play games, hitting us when we're busy, but play stupid games and you win stupid prizes. After we get through with the both of you, it'll be Achievement Unlocked; Got Your Ass Whooped By TNGB On TV.

TK smirks ever so slightly.

There ya go Game Master and Stupor Trooper we just spelled it out for you but I’ll slow it down. Just for you two. This is GAME OVER for you shit clowns, no fucking continues, you just lost the goddamn game. But, hey, Stone should be used to it by now at least.

With TK finishing his last sentence Them No Good Bastards clink their tag titles together and give the middle finger. Todd sees this in editing and the shot fades to black.

[Image: brofade.gif]
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