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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare RP Board
An Uneasy, (Notorious) Alliance
Author Message
Mark Flynn Offline
24/7 Briefcase Holders get their name in GOLD
The 24/7 Shot!



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
05-19-2023, 06:22 PM

Notorious Gym.

Ned sits at the bench press… But, the only thing he’d been exercising were his eyes…


The longer Ned stared, the less he understood Theo’s message.

“Don’t let yourself get surprised.”

Theo? Master tactician.

He fended off the OCW Invasion by writing three checks.

He’d dismantled CCPE, XWF’s biggest pest problem (maybe-)stable. Basically overnight.

Theo was the Sun Tzu of the wrestling business.

But, Theo also believed the best management method was letting his players burn their hand on the stove. So they’d learn themselves not to touch it.



Ned’s Problem: Was “the stove” drafting Flynn?

Or doing something wrong after drafting Flynn?

Kaye exhales. In the gym half-an-hour. Still hasn’t touched the weights.

If he’s gonna break his unlucky WarGames streak? He’s gotta focus.

“Don’t let yourself get surprised…” Ned mutters, trying to unwrap Theo’s Confucian riddle. “Surprised by what?”

Ned leans against the strength-training bench…

“NEDERICK!”

Standing over Ned! Flynn!

“Mark?!?”

“Get excited, Flanders, because I have…”

Flynn reaches behind his back… MENACINGLY!

“THE OPPORTUNITY OF A LIFET-”

Running on pure instinct, Ned extends a right…

WHAM!

“HRGH!!”

Catching Flynn in the throat!

Flynn cradles his Adam’s apple! He flops to the floor, wheezing…

"Did you just pull a weapon on me?!?” Ned reels back!

…Flynn wearily reaches backwards…

RETRIEVING!

…A manilla folder.

Labelled “Heroism Collaboration Opportunity!”

“...Collaboration?”

Flynn nods… Hacking up a lung. His larynx might’ve just become an “innie”…

…Ned grits his teeth.

“I'm sorry. You ...surprised… me.”



“Goddammit, Theo…”

***

An assembly line.

Mechanical arms twist plastic bits…

Into RoboGravy action figures!

“You ever hear of the Luddites, Robo-Mieky?”

“English factory workers. 19th-century.”

“When their employers replaced them with machines…”

“They stormed the factories.”

“Broke down the doors.”

“And stripped down the machines.”

“Bit-by-FUCKING-bit.”




“Today.”

“Luddite is synonymous with anti-technology.”

“Anti-progress.”

“Anti-machine.”




“But like I don’t hate YOU, Gravy…”

“Luddites WEREN’T anti-machine.”

“They bore no grudge against the bolts-and-screws.”

“Their battle was against the owners.”

“Who spat on their loyalty.”

“Dismissed the blood and sweat they poured into their art.”

“Rendered them OBSOLETE.”

“DETRIMENTAL to the BOTTOM-LINE.”

“Human labor? Not a resource to nurture...”

“But a TUMOR to EXCISE from the body of industry.”




“Today.”

“Wrestling Executives sit in their boardrooms…”

“Asking themselves...”

“How can we profit off wrestling…”

“...WITHOUT employing wrestlers.”




“Robotic experiments. Are non-human wrestlers taking over?”

“In the locker room.”

“Palpable Fear.”

“How long until the roster’s half-machine?”

“All-but-one machine?”

“COMPLETELY MACHINE?!?”




“I’ve had a… DECENT career, Gravy.”

“A half-a-year-long Uni-Title reign.”

“The Fourth-Most-Days-Holding-A-Title of any modern XWFer.”

“A career…  One *could* look back fondly on.”

“Retiring peacefully.”




“No.”

“FUCKING.”

“Chance.”

“I didn’t swim upstream through ELEVEN YEARS OF CORPORATE BULLSHIT to stop *just* short of the mountaintop.”

“The executives? Tastemakers?”

“Spent TEN years playing keep-away with what I DESERVED...”

“FROM.”

“DAY.”

“ONE.”

“And if you think I’m satisfied proving them wrong… Once?”

“You’ve got a FATAL error in your logic matrix, Gravy-Tron.”


Onto the assembly line…

A hand drops..

A wrench.

“I’m proving at Weekend Warfare.”

The wrench…

“That machines? They rust.”

Disappears into the machine’s maw.

“They break.”

LOUD CLANGING! THE MACHINERY BLEEDS OIL!

“They die.”

Smoke and fire…

“But, Mark Flynn?”

RoboGravy’s figure… Melts into molten plastic.

“SURVIVES.”

“MayDay may have passed…”

“But, this one’s for the workers...”

“And for justice.”


***

Riiiiiiiiing…

Riiiiiiiiing…

“C’mon, Theo, pick-up…”

*click*

“Hello, this is Theo Pryce.”

“Theo! I punched Flynn in the throat! It was an accident an-”

“Or rather, my voicemail.”



“Of course.” Ned leans back against the wall.

“I’m handling business matters.”

“Of COURSE you are.”

“If this is Kido, text me your cute animal picture. It’s more effective than describing it over the phone.”

“...What?”

“Cashe - please send FULL-BODY pictures of mascot candidates. I will not evaluate candidates by HEADSHOT anymore. Especially after you nearly… snuck one to approval.”

“...What?”

“While I value a potential commercial tie-in with Red Lobster… Jumbo the Bottomless Shrimp, the mascot with a shrimp costume on his… top-half exclusively? Wholly inappropriate.”

“...Ahhhhhh. Bottomless.” Ned chuckles.

“Ned.”

Ned exhales, “Theo, I doubt your voicemail can adv-”

“You likely accidentally punched Flynn in the face.”



“Throat, actually.”

“Find out what he wants. Be patient. He rambles and monologues, but Trust me, he usually has… a point.”



“Usually.”

…Ned nods.

“Okay, I’ll try.”

“Elon Musk - Lose my number. An-”

*click* Ned shoves the phone away.

“Find out what he wants… Be patient.” Ned nods. He left Flynn in the gym’s office several minutes ago with an icepack.

With a shove, Ned marches through the door.

“Okay, Flynn. What d-”

“NEODORE! Finally!” Flynn is… setting up a projector? Atop of a desk in the center of th-... Wait.

“Is this…? Wait, did you bring a desk?”

“Special-ordered one JUST for this presentation!”



“Presentation?” Ned squints…

“What IS a Good-Guy?” Flynn slaps the table. “Webster’s Dictionary def-...”



Flynn clears his throat, nodding toward a chair beside the door.

“Sit down, Ned.”

“I’ll stand, thanks.”

…Flynn’s eye twitches.

“See, I…” Flynn sniffs, his facial muscles twitch. “…In my mind’s eye, when I delivered this presentation, you were on the edge of your seat.”



Ned sits down.



Flynn coughs.

Ned sighs, adjusting his ass to the seat’s edge.

Flynn claps.

“What IS a Good Guy? Let’s break it down, right?” Finger-quotes. “GOOD GUY. First, gotta be GOOD! SECOND, y-...”



Flynn sniffs.

“Nedarino, can I getcha a water?”

“...No, I’m f-”

Flynn leans over the desk’s center, to an office phone.

“Irwin, snag a water for Neduardo.”

*cracklefuzz*

“Right away, Mister Flynn.”

…Ned eyes the phone incredulously.

“…Did you wire an intercom into MY office?”

Flynn nods impatiently. “Came in handy, didn’t it? You wanted a water? You got a water.”

“I *didn’t* say I wanted water.”

“Didn’t need to, Ned.” Flynn extends his hands behind his head smugly. “That’s what GOOD GUYS do, right? They ANTICIPATE do-gooding opportunities!”

“...Flynn, how’d you set all this up? I left you here FOUR MINUTES AGO.”

…Flynn covers his heart, lip quivering. Like that question offends him to his core.

“Ned, I don’t know what YOU thought when you drafted Mark Flynn?”

“But, for the record?”

“I… do NOT… FUCK AROUND.”


Irwin enters with two bottles of 7.025 ph water on a tray. Ned eyes it intrigued.

“Actually. Irwin?”

Just as Ned stretches to sneak a water, Irwin spins around, wrenching it out of his reach.

“Yessir?”

“Grab a business card for Nedidiah here. One that says ‘I do not fuck around’?”

Ned reaches once more… But snatches nothing-but-air as Irwin bows at the waist.

“Right away, sir!”

Irwin departs, taking the waters with him.

“…Actually, can I get a wa-?”

“WHAT IS A GOOD GUY?”



“Ned?”

Ned twists his neck cluelessly. “...Y-yeah? What?”

“Waiting for your answer.”

“...Oh. I just thought… the last four times, it was… rhetorical.”

“What do YOU think a good guy is?”

“Uh… I guess th-.”

“Exactly right!” Flynn slaps the desk once more. “No answer! Because It’s not ‘what a good guy IS’… It’s what a good guy DOES!”

Ned smiles, “That’s something Theo might say.”

Flynn reaches into the folder. “Which brings us to my EXCITING oppor-”



Flynn’s eyes twitches.

“...Theo?”

…Ned nods.

“Yeah.”

…Flynn snorts. He itches his cheek, like mentioning Pryce gives him hives.

“Right. Because THEO PRYCE… OWNS the Good Guy brand, doesn’t he?”



“What?”

“After all, he signed every XWF FACE to his FUCKING MEGA-STABLE?”

“Is SAGA a stable? If CCPE isn’t, th-”

“WE BOTH FUCKING KNOW CCPE WAS A STABLE, NED.”

Ned sticks his hands up defensively. “Whoa, Flynn! I…why are you yelling?”

“Because YOU SAGA STOOGES have a monopoly on heroism, dontcha?”

…Ned frowns. “Flynn, I don't know what point you wanna make, but don’t speak ill of my friends.”

…Flynn cackles venomously. “Ohohoho! That’s right. The in-group is self-preserving. It’s not about who WANTS to be good… It’s about who YOU and FUCKING THEO decide is good!”

…Ned shakes his head. “Flynn, I drafted you to give you a fair chance. Prove my instincts wrong.”

Flynn sneers. “Oh? How fucking kind. HOW CHARITABLE…” Flynn stuffs an accusatory finger at Kaye. “Because YOU’RE the arbiter of good and not-good, right? YOU get to decide? As a PRE-EXISTING good guy, you’re MY judge on whether I’m a piece of SHIT, right? Just like Theo Pryce got to decide at Relentless if I was a ‘champion of honor’, RIGHT? It doesn’t matter what I win, what matters is what YOU THINK OF ME.”



Ned blushes. “When you say it like that…”

“Let’s say EXACTLY how it is, Nedaroo.”

“You didn’t REALLY draft me to test me. You drafted me because I have the BEST WarGames record. And YOU’VE never escaped round one.”

“You, Kido, THEO… You jibber and jabber about how I compete without honor. But, when you want a win, you hold your nose and let ME carry you to victory. Because I GET THE FUCKING JOB DONE.”


…Ned shakes his head.

“You don’t know me, Mark. Winning at the cost of integrity is nothing.”



Flynn smirks.

“That’s why you DON’T win, Ned.”



“I sleep at night, Mark.”

…Flynn’s eye twitches. His face turns red.

Ned’s unsure where that comment came from, but it touched a nerve.

“Y’know what?” Flynn wipes across his face. “I don’t NEED you. I’LL stop EVIL… SOLO.”

Irwin returns with cards, featuring a suited Flynn in front of an explosion. Of course, no contact info. That would take up explosion space.

“Got those bus-”

WHIP! Flynn smacks them out of Irwin’s hands.

“We’re leaving.” Flynn storms out.

…Irwin coughs, following.

“Should I… return the desk?”

…Ned shakes his head… pushing in the chair…

…As his eyes fall on…

“Wait, you forgot…”

Folder.

“What was Flynn even talking about?” Ned flips it open.

…Ned turns a page.

…Then, another.

“...Wait. Bank robbery?”



“Tokyo?!?”



Ned sprints out!

“Flynn! FLYNN!”

***

Flynn smacks his Cherry-Red Honda Fit’s steering wheel.

”I don’t NEED Kaye, Irwin. I’ll stop MY robbery BY MYSELF. More glory for ME!”

…Irwin sighs from the passenger seat.

“Of course, sir.”



“We’ll just hope that the crowd doesn’t…” Irwin clears his throat. “Love the robbers over you.”



“Does that happen?”

“Ever hear of Stockholm Syndrome?”



“FUCK!” Flynn smacks the dashboard. “...This was never gonna work. Ned’s too goody-goody to join a fake bank-robbery scheme. If he even OPENED that folder, he’d narc to Theo…”

…Flynn sighs.

“...We’ll just find another face…”

Flynn reaches around his back for…

……

Nothing.

Flynn reaches the other way.

…LIke that would do anything?

“Irmano, you grab my folder?”

…Irwin shakes his head. “No, I was too busy loading your presentation props into the trunk.”

FLYNN GRABS IRWIN BY THE FACE!

“IRWIN. Did we leave the folder… WITH Ned?”

“...Uh.”

“THE FOLDER DETAILING OUR FAKE BANK ROBBERY CONSPIRACY?!?!?!”



”...ohno.”

“…Okay, we’ll get it back. Just gotta sneak through the exterior air duct an-”

Knock.

Flynn looks over.

Ned’s face in his window.

“...Shit.”

“He knows!”

“ShhhhhhhHHHH. He doesn’t know...” Flynn whispers. He calmly lowers the window.

“Hi, offi-... Ned.” Flynn uncomfortably coughs. “Was I… speeding? While I was stopped in your parking lot?”

Ned pulls out…

The folder!

“HE KNOWS!” Irwin screeches.



“Way to stay cool, I-man.” Flynn sighs.

“I’m in.”

“Look, Ne-“



“What?”

“I’m impressed. So much intel on a bank robbery..  in Tokyo!?!” Ned flips through the folder. “I mean, criminal headshots? Schematics? You’ve even scripted what you think they’ll say DURING the robbery!”



“Right. What I… THINK… they’ll say.”

“Mark, I’ve worked FBI investigations before, but the details of this robbery… It’s diabolical!”

Ned shuts the folder.

“WE’VE gotta stop it.”

“...Uh.”



Flynn smiles.

“Yes. My… *ahem*… information networks discovered this robbery…  I figured a fellow GOOD GUY… would assist me in foiling it.”

“Y’know, Flynn?”

Kaye extends his hand through the window.



Flynn shakes it.

“You’re full of surprises.”
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