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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » "Savage Saturday Night" RP Board
III
Author Message
Thebe Nwadike Offline
scaring white folk since 2002



XWF FanBase:
The IWC

(gets varying reactions in the arenas, but will be worshiped like a god and defended until the end by internet fans; literally has thousands of online dorks logging on to complain anytime they lose a match or don't get pushed right)


#1
11-05-2021, 09:44 PM


[Image: tWgRdvp.png]
"Leg day is gettin' skipped, guess who really runnin' shit."



BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

I could get used to this.

YOU FUCKING SUCK PHOEBE!!!

They all say there ain't no such thing as bad press.

GO BACK TO OCW!!!

Beating an XWF legend on his turf, shit, that's a statement.

CHEATING PIECE OF SHIT!!!

I break up in a laugh as I hit the top of the ramp, swinging round and putting up two middle fingers to the crowd of fools booing my black ass out the building. In the ring as the cage is being raised, I see Centurion start to stir and look at the phone that fell to the mat, he looks lost. Just slumped there as he hangs his head staring down at it before closing his eyes. Broken ol' dude.

My smile fades as I turn around to head out.

Strolling into the backstage area, I hiss in pain reaching out to grab a towel to wipe the sweat off my face. A few officials avoid eye contact as I stroll into the quiet room; some white dude in a suit is the only one looking at me with a glare; his arms folded as he sizes me up before thumbing his nose and walking away. I put one foot in front of the other bopping my head as Pharcyde plays from the arena, making quick looks to the people avoiding me and head into the long and empty corridor. My theme gets cut off and I only hear the dying crowd and the sound of my wrapped feet hitting the ground as I enter the locker room. Pushing open the door a few heads turn to me and inspect me in turn, I stay at the door for a second looking back at everyone before putting my head down and heading to my locker. Opening it up, I hang there for a moment; staring into the empty, metal box. After a few seconds of looking at nothing, I sigh and slam the locker door shut and turn out of the room; throwing open the door and leaving.

Down the hall, I head up to the GM's office and throw my palm against the door a few times before letting myself in. Some skinny bitch is at her desk, she looks at me from the corner of her eye before sighing and reaching into a drawer pulling out an envelope and throwing it down. I head over and check the few hundred bucks I earned and clutch it tightly in my hand. Without looking at me she then places two fingers on my cell and slowly pushes it towards me before going back to whatever she's looking over. I take my phone with my free hand and begin to walk out grabbing a hoodie off a chair and taking it with me.

Outside on the street, wearing a black hoodie proudly bearing the XWF logo I hail a cab after a couple of tries and hop in.


"Econo Lodge."

I throw my head back into the seat as the cab pulls off the curb. My eyes unfocused looking out at the lights of Columbus and slowly close.





I sit on the cheap bed of my room, towel around my waist. Clean water dripping down onto the sheets as I pull my phone from the charger, I see 1 new message and my heart skips. OCW HQ messaged me, I'm going through what it'll say in my head, congratulating me on the win, telling me I'll be a bigger part in this war. Everything just going through my head and I read it.



I'm fired.



I just stare at the announcement. All that training, those shitty fights in school gyms, throwing my apron away and walking out yelling I quit all that for fucking nothing. Everything I could have been, what I could have built up, gone. Gone in a fucking paragraph.

I sink into the bed, like a stone is laying on my stomach as I feel dizzy. Sweat mixes with water from the shower as I wipe my forehead and close my eyes.


"Fuck."

I sit back up and launch my phone away.

"FUCK!"

I sit on the edge of the bed, my palms in my eyes. I just wasted time and effort into a company that didn't want me and cut ties with another fed for them, I made enemies for fucking nothing. My leg shakes on it's own as I exhale deeply and look at my phone on the floor as well as the dent in the wall above the TV. I step up and grab it from the floor, few cracks but screen works. Minus the black line running through. I try and calm myself while looking through contacts and my thumb sitting on my grandparents.

The hell do I say?

Pops wasn't happy with me fighting anyway, shit I never even got a chance to explain everything to grandma. Fuck should I do? Say sorry that I can't help with rent? That I can't help with groceries? That I could be stuck in fucking Ohio... Fuck. FUCK! Fuck this shit, man!

I collapse back down on the bed.

A lump forms in my throat as my eyes swell.

What do I do, man?

I need to call em, what time is it back home? We even on same time? I look out at the night sky from my window, grey clouds dropping spits of rain like the universe is pissing on me and tellin' me swim in it. I look back at my phone...

They need to know.

They'll care, they'll help and support me. They're good people.

But I can't keep asking for more when they've given me everything...

Fuck... Just call 'em, get it over with.

As I raise my thumb, my cell rings out. An unknown number. I let the tone ring out for a while as I stare down at the screen before gliding my phone right. I place it to my ear and with a shaky breath ask.


"Who dis?"

"Thebe Nwadike. How would you like a real opportunity?"


>>>


"Guess I'm sticking around for a while, huh?"

Finally back home, this XWF hoodie actually coming in use as I'm back on the porch.

"With some bullshit happenin', looks like my knee running into Cent's nose actually left a bigger impression than I thought. Now, I gave that dude a hard time with some of the shit I said, but that's because I knew he could take it! Or, thought at least. And shit, bro gave me one hell of a run for my money. I had a slither of respect for the dude when we slung shade at each other but he fuckin' earned himself more than a beer after that night. Kept his word, surprised the fuck out of me and I ain't got nothin' but props to give that old ass cracker. And because of him and that fight, here I am. Wanting some more, wanting a taste of that competition and earning myself a spot in the sunlight."

"Second match in this company."

"Third match under a contract."

"First chance to grab a title."

"Second chance to put some bitch in they place."


I snicker.

"I'm playin', got some amount of respect for my opponent. Girl does good. Good. Not great or anythin'. I mean this bitch has to attach herself to James Raven to grab some warmth of a spotlight, gotta throw out her being a time traveler to make her appear like she's a unique individual when it's pretty fucking clear to everyone that it's some desperate, sad attempt to cover up the lack of personality or charisma. Some scrawny ass, pretty girl who has just thrown a net out to every company who'd let her in to achieve what? Not the best title in the fed but definitely not the lowest tier, each and every time it seems. No, no you let Raven try and go for those and you know how it is you can't try and steal Warstien's spotlight, yeah? Nah, girl, you can't step on the old head's feet, who else would pay for you and make you feel special? How else would you get anywhere else if you didn't have those horny old men opening doors for you? Yes, Queen, you slay as you maintain the absolute peak of mediocrity by being middling in every fed you join just hoping that this will be the one with the easier competition that ya boy hasn't stuck his dick in yet."

"Fuck bro, I'm going from beating one legend to someone who sucks a legend's dick. Maybe next week Chris Page will pop back up and I can kick the shit out of someone who pretends to be a legend. Just get a real good theme goin', you feel me? Make 'em all apologize to me one after another too, that shit was money. A lot better than 'time travel' anyhow. Fuckin' dumbass shit is that, huh? How the fuck do you ever lose? Why are you a wrestler?"


I squint and throw my hands up.

"Like I get the whole butterfly effect bullshit but seriously bitch, why the fuck you a wrestler? We've already gone through how you're only okay at it, surely you can do something else? Tell me the winning lottery numbers at the very least. That's if it's even real anyway, I could do what you do by writing a script at a 9th-grade level, watching some show for sad white women and using the reface app. Oh shit, Betsy is a superhero now OH WOW! How fucking creative and original, surely she's the star of tomorrow, OH SNAP now she killed Hitler but in the future she's married to Michael Graves! How will she ever get a taste of the main event now?"

"Bitch, you better actually step your game up before I send you packing to CBS. Throw you through re-runs of Centurion promos so you can roll through the mediocre bullshit he pulled out but add glitter to it and act proud that you're a different person. Speaking of Cent, now I went hard on him and what did that do? That mother fucker is actually trying for the first time in 10 years. I got him off his ass and made him a new person; he changed his outlook, his style, how he talks and walks I raised that nigga through puberty again imagine what I could do for you? Just think for a moment, bitch, maybe when I drag your ass through the snow and make you colder than your crowd pops you too can grow up and cut off this shit about time travel."

"Fuckin' grow up, woman."

"Time travel?"

"Bish, please."

"Also why the fuck we in Alaska? Whose dumb fuck idea was that? Deadass flying me out to that freezer, I ain't ever seen snow, man. Bullshit."

"Anyway, what I wanna say is very simple. You can throw up this magic bullshit but it ain't gonna mean shit because you may or may not have this incredible ability that only appears when it's convenient for you but I have one huge on you that you have lacked since you put on tights and decided fighting for a living was a good idea."


I lean in close

"I actually know how to fight."

I relax with a smirk.

"Let's go through a couple examples here, this shit was listed on the XWF site as your signature moves. You know the shit you do on a weekly basis, that you definitely got perfected and for sure know the name of since you're an accomplished wrestler." I pull out a crumpled piece of paper from my pocket and straighten it out, flicking off weed crumbs. "So, you take your eyes down to her more common moves and I believe these are all in her own words, you ignore the words in French and German to make her appear like she's cultured despite the heavy fact that white people have none. That classic Centurion trick trying to show she isn't a basic American white girl. So, you go to the kicks section."

"Yeah, kicks!"

"Skip punches, nah bro you don't want to break a nail right? Who needs a punch? Not like a snap jab ever led to any important decision in wrestling or fighting in general. First one on the list. 'Semi-circular kick'"

...

"Nigga do you mean a roundhouse?"

"What the fuck is a semi-circular kick? How the fuck did you even come up with that? Do you ever put your leg straight out to your side and swing it a perfect 180 degrees? The fuck are you, a protractor? Shut the fuck up. How do you not know what a roundhouse is? Not once in your time-traveling adventures has anyone corrected you on that? You dumb cunt, for real."

"Kick number two."

"Karate style."


I lower the paper and just look for God.

"Low, medium or high often as clinch counter. Clinch counters? What type of karate training you go into a clinch, bitch? Did you mean Muay Thai? And what fucking karate kicks? H-how can you not name one? It's embarrassing and honestly kinda racist. It's like you looked at one kung-fu movie and decided 'eh they're all Asian so calling it karate is fine.' 100% you make a Bruce Lee noise whenever you do one of these kicks, bet."

"Kick three. Backflip kick AKA Pele kick. Hey, you got one! Kick four; Overhead kick, now you got me stumped. Because you either mean an axe kick or it's backflip kick again and you didn't know which would be really fucking weird and make absolutely zero sense that you do the same move twice and somehow think they're different. So, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt that you just didn't know it was called an axe kick, you just got your foot over your head or someone else's and just decided to name it an overhead kick which is equal parts adorable and dumb as fuck."

"Kick five; Rolling Koppu kick also known as a rolling thunder kick or 'I meant to do that.' That's two Betsy, great job, girl."

"Kick six; reverse roundhouse kick."


I smile and slowly place the paper down beside me.

"See now you got me fucked up because by your logic this should be a reverse semi-circular kick. It's apparent you know what a roundhouse is now and still fuck up this badly, bitch just do the same but not in reverse and you should know the damn name of the kick you've been doing for years. It's this shit that really nails in how you have no idea what you're doing, not even knowing the correct names for half of your basic kicks is embarrassing and will straight up lead to me dismantling you in the ring and taking the TV title home with me. The final kick is a Tiger Feint Kick which is just a 619. I guess Betsy prefers appropriating Japanese moves than she does Mexican, make of that what you will."

"The last thing I want to say is this. Betsy Granger can go to any company in the world and with other people's influences she can get a title shot, this doesn't matter to her because she'll just sulk for a week and move on to the next belt in the next fed. Me? I need that belt because that belt comes with a bigger paycheck, a check that I don't just want, one I need. That title gets me out the hood, it's getting my grandparents into a safe place where they don't have to worry about some crackhead breaking in or a gang spraying past. That title deserves someone who will do great things with it, XWF gave me a chance when they shouldn't have and I am all about proving myself right now and I guarantee that when I beat you I will carry that title to greater heights than you could ever imagine. I'm not about just getting the bag, I stay in 'em. And I will prove every single mother fucker that I deserve to be on each and everyone one of your radars while Betsy Granger is just gonna be a fading blip."

"I got some respect for you, Granger, but you know more about the future than me, so you've seen this beatdown coming for a while."

"Peace."




[Image: SQTltkW.gif]
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