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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
02-18-2023, 06:51 PM




HIIIIIII-iiiiiiiii!

This is your reason for being, the source of ALL the murderhobo tears, Sarah Lacklan. Now, SOME of you peeps are all “OMG! Dolly tapped SARAH as her mystery partner?! Holy CRAP, yo!” and SOME of you are all “......who dis bitch?” and listen, I totes understand the importance of both of those stances. I’m not, at least at this time, going to delve into my storied background, okay? I’m not going to get into all the titles, both singles and tag, or the tournament victories, or any history with the eponymous Mr. Porter himself. Because this isn't about all of that. This isn’t about any ongoing fights or rivalries, about any title or contendership aspirations. So what IS this about?

Fulfilling a promise.

For the last few years, I have been doing my best to influence the world of wrestling, to help it evolve beyond the wasteland it often is, to make it change. I have had great success in that time across this world, but in doing so, I have let slip something just as important as the championships attained and the influence wrought: Relationships. In order to truly bring my change to the world, I need people to stand with me, people of repute and quality, of unrelenting valor. I have some more secure than the most advanced vault in the strongest bank, but others have become tenuous and strained. This is my error, and none other, and is paramount in my thoughts of this moment.

I love my beautiful, bouncing baby girl Dolly Waters.

It is my JOB, my very IDENTITY in this moment, to support and teach Dolly. In this instance, at the unfortunate expense of Jmont and Cal, that means the two of us working as a tag team. Over the last few years, Dolly and I have fought, both physically and emotionally, both with and against one another, tested one another, pushed one another, changed one another. We have trained together and worked on our moves and overall understanding of the business, inside and out. We have made each other smile and laugh, made each other angry and violent. We have made each other’s day and sent one another into the lowest depths of disappointment.

We are a TEAM and a FAMILY.

Next time, I’ll get into the nitty-gritty of this match, okay? We’ll take a bit more than a gander at ol’ Jmont and Kal. We’ll break it down, explain the math. But for now?

Wait…wait…

Wait…

Oh Sweet Baby Jesus’ perfectly smooth bottom….

They’re CCPE guys?

SIIIIIIIIIIIGH

Okay, I’ll take a teeny, tiny, itsy-bitsy moment here, okay? For the record…THE RECORD, I SAY….

You’re a stable.

“BUT SARAH! PAGE SAID-”

NOPE!

HIIIIIStory TIIIIIIIME!

In THIS, not just OUR favorite sport, but literally God’s favorite sport, there became a styling of groups across time. After we pushed past the fairs and circus of our forefathers and found ourselves instead in auditoriums and gymnasiums, certain trends arose, and one of those trends were what we might today call fight camps. People didn’t just find themselves training at the same gym at the same time, but they found themselves training together, working on techniques and philosophies. And from this movement came managers and leaders, people who knew how to think beyond just the next match and instead how to use groups of fighters to accomplish MORE.

The manager created a stable.

Just like a stableman looking over some beautiful horses (none more beautiful than my faultless Fireheart, obvs), these managers groomed men, taught them to think differently, to think as a team. And with that direction, these herds would find success, would win championships together, would make money, would plant seeds within the rats outside the arena. But unfortunately for those wrestlers, they didn’t realize a particularly important aspect of being a stable:

The stableman holds no qualm for shooting a horse when they break a leg.

Wrestlers were ousted from the stable whenever the manager saw fit, whenever they found that their usage was no longer valid. They would be replaced by a new stud, whether they be fresh blood or an old hand still short in the teeth, who could make up the slack created by that broken leg.

Such is the fate of the CCPE dummies.

Rip-off Artist Supreme Page, ever in a life-long, yet ultimately fruitless, quest to be Great instead of just plain ol’ Good, has built himself a stable of studs who are always just a moment away of replacing the st- with another d, and we have already seen some of those horses find themselves shot after a snapped leg. Which, all things considered, is probably not what Jmont wants to hear after that little bit of business at the House of Blues. Rough night for that guy. A whole lot of talking, whole lot of exclaiming that he’s going to be the next Excellence Champ, and all he had to walk away with that night was a busted face, a trip to the doctor, and a bag full of hotdogs.

Now listen, I’m FULLY aware that losing INSERT MATCH HERE isn’t exactly the most noteworthy thing, but it’s about the CONTEXT, yeah know? Ol’ Twizted Thoughts (I bet they council him, they understand), posterboy for CCPE with THAT bit of originality, didn’t just lose ANY match the other day. He lost a TAG match with RANDOM PARTNER HERE against, get this, a family. And what match does he have at DPI Part Deux?

A tag match…with a partner whose not axly a partner…against a family.

This is one of the issues that stables have. Since there is so much turnover, so many horses going in and out as they are led off to the shed to have their broken leg problems blasted away with hunting rifle, they never have the chance to actually GEL together. Sure, they work out and go get manicures, or whatever, but learn to THINK the same? Nah. Not like a family. And while Ol’ J-mimic may well have run up and down the roads across two decades, or whatever, with Kal, fighting both with and against each other, they will NEVER get the level of cohesion that is my Daughter Dolly and Mumsie Sarah.

And I suppose that is what this match is REALLY about. It’s about the emotion of it all. Dolly and I are together to change the business, and if that means lifting it up…burning it down…or doing something in between….we plan on doing it in a way very few others can understand:

Together.






“What IS all this?”

Sarah Selena Grey-Lacklan's boney features were pointedly confused. Adorned in a garishly loud dress of black and red pleats, with long and puffy sleeves that covered every inch of body from heel to neck, the Porcelain Princess,  the older (but not taller!) half of the current XWF taggie team champions, stood out against the dark exterior of the shop. The albino, seeming extra bright amidst this backdrop, shook her head, causing the tiny bells attached to an ostentatious hat covered in black feathers to fill the night with music.

"Honestly, child, if this gets any more unnecessarily cringe, it might as well be featured in a Goth promotional video set in Forks!"

The woman's high-pitched Londoner accent was full of derision, but there was a glint of mischief in her oddly red eyes. While one gloved hand clutched a SWEET Windows phone, lovingly restored but still painfully archaic, another hand waved before her, taking in the shop with more than just a touch of spirit fingers.

"Anything more copied from what's seen on television and just kinda-sorta redid without any individual creativity or effort and it would be included in a Best of Jmont Moves compilation on #CoolTube!"

"It doesn't look THAT bad, Babe."

The accent of the voice coming through the phone was hard to identify, an odd mixture with influences of Seattle, Hollywood, and voice training in neutrality, but the resulting gumbo was clearly that of Mackenzi Michaela Grey-Lacklan, the far far FAR more popular, likeable, and talented of the infamous Grey-Lacklans. With a caramel skin that spoke of a mixed heritage, the movie producer and former wrestler had her long micro braids pulled up in a bun in a way that accentuated her long neck and the light red freckles doted across her cheeks.

"I'm sure whoever owns the place is some sweet old lady…or some skeletal old crone like your mother…"

Sarah blinked as her eyes swept back and forth over the shop.

"What was that last part, Beloved? You garbled up with the crappy cell service I have out here in God knows where."

"Nothing, Baby. Love you so much!"

"Ah, that's sweet. Love you more! Anyway, our daughter is here trying to prep for her match with Mother Grey-"

Kenzi's groan over the fact that her mother was wrestling again…and embarrassing her the entire way…was full of frustration and disgust.

"-and I feel that I've ghosted her enough…at least for now, anyway."

"Has she learned whatever supposed lesson you're trying to teach her?"

"No…but she's undoubtedly getting closer."

"You know, Babe, what I don't understand is what's with all the daughter stuff. We both know that Dolly’s great…she was the best employee ever…way better than that tiggle-bittied bimbo friend of yours-"

"Hey! You leave Ash alone!"

"-but last time I checked, neither one of us popped out a baby from our vaginas."

Sarah's Eye Roll of Doom (far better than an Infamous Smirk) is long enough to last through about half on the next excruciatingly lengthy CCPE vs SAGA in-ring segment, but her voice finds hesitation.

"It's…well…she reminds me of…"

"You?"

"Oh God no!"

Sarah's angelic face was aghast with horror for a moment.

"I mean, have you SEEN her cuticles?! And it took me SO LONG just to get her to understand the importance of things like, oh I don't know, washing her hair, using deodorant and perfume, and other things they don't appreciate in Kentucky. And don't EVEN get me started on her diction! I guess its…well…she reminds me of Nikita."

"Oh, your trainer got into voodoo?"

"Well, no, but what she DID do was get into this sport as a very young girl, that's what she reminds me of. Nikita got into fighting because she had to, and she did it at a young age, and she had to deal with men who treated her like she was lesser just because of her gender, and with people who didn't believe in her. She wasn't just a woman, she was a ROOKIE woman, so in many ways, she had the worst beginning than anyone else. And she made bad decisions, got with the wrong people, found solace in narcotics. She had to scratch and claw her way through it all…and THAT is what Dolly makes me think of.

"Truth be told, Dolly can be a world champion. She can be world class. She can be on OUR level! But she needs me. She needs me to be there for her the way that Nikita was there for me…and the way no one was there for her. She needs me to show her the ropes, and not just the importance of understanding the distinction between a clothesline from a lariat, or a headlock from a Swedish cravat. But the distinction between what's right and what's wrong. She needs me to help steer her ship…not to pilot it and make her decisions…but to help guide her and show her how things CAN be, not just how things HAVE been.

"There was a time, years ago, when we were doing our Bleed the World Tour, when I was fighting everywhere and everything, and part of that meant being a Hardcore Champion, right? Fighting for stupid championships with stupid situations in front of stupid crowds where we tried to decapitate one another, or something. And when I needed it most, Nikita was there for me, to remind me that that's not my job. My job isn't to wrestle at the bottom of the card against murderhobos. My job isn't to entertain the plebians who would frequent such muck-filled halls. MY job was to be the World Champion, to be wrestling in arenas at the top of the card, to be the reason why people show up, the reason why people continue to become wrestlers. And I am here to do the same for Dolly. I am here to remind her of how good she is to, remind her of how great she can be.

"And so it's important for me to come here at this place…whatever this is…and TEACH her. I'm here to get her to realize that she needs to leave broken flotsam to the obscurity of the ocean after a ship has gone to wreck, to realize that HER job is to swim from that wreck, no longer burdened by that rotted flotsam, and walk onto the beach, cleansed and baptized. I'm here to teach her that, in order to turn good into great, she needs to leave behind the toys and the trauma of the past, to leave behind the muddy waters of her nature and accept the nurture that I offer. To forever leave behind those questionable decision in her past and step forth, forevermore, as a member of the House of Lacklan.

"And that's why when, in an odd play to be a part of this year's Invitational, she found herself in the difficult position of needing to supply the mystery. She found a need for Mumsie Sarah, THE taggie team champion responsible for wrecking that ship of hers, to be that mystery fulfillment."


"...and why are you standing outside of a voodoo hut?"

Another eye roll allowed her a moment to actually breathe.

"Yeah…well…listen, she's wrestling your mumsy soon and honestly, I don't know what she's doing here, but it's not the worst I've seen, right? We've seen some pretty craxy sy stuff in this business, so if you don't mind me, I will let you get back to your underwear football team management-”

”Hey! You leave the Hit Girls alone!”

”-and go into what is undoubtedly our daughter's evil lair. All I hope for is that she’s not, like, sitting on a throne made of skulls, sucking on a Blood Orange flavored Goth Drop, while behind her spouts a fountain of blood which then drains into the side of a walkway that is, at all times,lined with the tears of her enemies. Like, I swear to Baby Jesus’ blemish-free and perfectly smooth bottom, that if I find something like a murder of crows flying away as I open this door…"

Upon approaching the door, Sarah sees a gargoyle knocker.

And she sighs the world’s deepest sigh.






I said earlier that this wasn't necessarily about me, but it occurs to me that it might be a bit rude if I didn't properly introduce myself. Like I alluded to before, there are plenty of Baby Birds out there in #DPILand (you’re welcome, Denzel!), but I would be remiss if Jmont and Kal didn’t get to hear some stuff beforehand. See, going by what USUALLY happens when I face new peeps, I’m going to assume they are already talking about how squishy that little girl Dolly will be, and how they’ll be able to throw her around like a ragdoll, or block any attempt at her annoying flippy shit just by catching her and lawndarting her into the turnbuckle, or something. And to their credit, they would be somewhat correct, since neither one of their opponents are exactly a hulking beast of strength. But there is so much more to this particular mystery opponent of theirs, so I feel it would, again, be only fair of me to introduce myself properly.

My name is Lacklan.

And I am.

I am the excellence that everyone in our business strives to be. I am the champion that everyone patterns themselves after. I am this business.

Everyone tries, right? Everyone works out, exercises, practices maneuvors and techniques. They go to school, do homework, do ALL the things to try to emulate their heroes. I look at the field of DPI competitors that will be in Vegas, and I recognize my fair share of names, but of course have to look up others (none of this tired and ultimately silly “I’ve never even heard of YOU…you MUST be some LOSER” nonsense we have all seen so often; the business is far to large for that), and I see so many people trying. This is what separates me, and those like Dolly who wish to learn, from the rest of this field. While they try, I simply am.

I am the champion everyone wishes they were.

Listen, in my career I've suffered the same setbacks everybody else has. I've been hurt and injured enough to be on the shelf. I’ve been tired and sore. I’ve been elated and ecstatic, and also driven down into the depths of disappointment and shame. I know what it is like to truly dominate when I am at my best, and to come up short when it mattered most. And that is a big part of why I’m here, right now, in Vegas. Last time Mr Porter held his event, I was set to partake, but I was unable to be cleared. Now, it’s different. Now, I’m healthy. Now, I’m here to teach Dolly, my beautiful bouncing baby girl, on some of the most important aspects of this sport. And unfortunately for Jmont and Kal, it will be at their expense. But I suppose that is a lesson they can learn from this weekend, as well. Be brave enough to sign up for a mystery match? Then be prepared to face the consequences of that bravery. Because that mystery isn’t just any random murderhobo off the streets, or pulled from some idiotic hardcore match.

It’s me.

And I am.




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[-] The following 4 users Like Lacklan's post:
Angelica Vaughn (02-19-2023), CTN (02-20-2023), Dolly Waters (02-18-2023), Theo Pryce (02-18-2023)




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