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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Anarchy Boards » Anarchy RP Board
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This Charming Man
Author Message
MollyBarnes Offline
Salford Supernova



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
05-24-2023, 12:24 PM


Molly woke up to the stench of two sweaty bodies that had been lying in till noon. With a heavy head from the night before, she rolled around to see a huge hairy smelly mess that she didn’t recognize, for which she was glad. It wasn’t exactly Mr. Universe she’d woken up next to.

Molly: "Ah, fuck me. Shagged a three…"

At the very least, she’d woken up in her own flat this time, and not the back of some stranger’s van. She sighed and tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes whilst getting up from bed. She let the guy continue snoring the day away and put on some knickers and an oversized shirt. Thankfully, the hangover was mild enough to only be barely noticeable. She could go for some scrambled eggs right now, but unfortunately stared at a nearly empty fridge when she opened it.

Supervalu Tea (she was keeping the PG and Yorkshire boxes her mum had given her for her birthday for fancier occasions than this one) and buttered toast it was…

Molly yawned as she heard some stumbles in her bedroom. It didn’t take long for the fella to walk into the living room, wearing nothing but his pants. He held the rest of his clothes in his arms, that rested on his beer belly. His cheeks were flushed red. He was obviously embarrassed, but Molly waved his concerns away.

Molly: "Alrite? I know this is awkward, but I’m not gonna kick you out right away, mate. There’s some breakfast if you want it."

“That… Would be lovely, actually.”

He sat himself down, and was hungry or courteous enough not to complain about the semi-burnt toast (which  was how Molly liked it). Molly started browsing yesterday’s newspaper she’d found on a park bench after coming home from her workout, constantly shaking her head.

Molly: " Suella Braverman, you are a cunt. Dominic Raab, sir, YOU are a cunt!"

The bloke across from her snickered before taking a sip of tea. Either he liked it black, or was too embarrassed to ask for milk or sugar. Good thing too, because what little milk Molly had left was surely spoiled by now.

“Not a fan, eh?”

Molly: "Not really, no. Tory bastards! Thinkin’ the world shines outta their arse, and the rules don’t apply to them like they do for regular folks and that. Thing is, right, I don’t mind if someone works their way to the top or whatever. I’m fighting this girl soon that apparently is in big with some kinda gang, but she came from nothing. I can respect that, although you don’t have to go and start being a right twat the second you’ve picked yourself up out of those streets."

“I knew you were a fighter.”

Molly: "Did you now?"

“Maybe you don’t remember, but you headbutted that one bloke last night…”

Molly: "I don’t much remember last night. Probably blocked it out. Not having a go at you, by the way."

“It’s alright. I was quite surprised you even took me with you, if I’m being honest.”

Molly: "That makes two of us. But… you seem like a nice enough fella, so that’s probably why. Nice people are kinda rare. Like this girl I’m fighting, see… She and I, I figure we both grew up in a rough area. I’m no saint by any means, I’ve done my fair share of nicking and what have ya. But this girl became a proper criminal, by the sound and look of it. And real criminals don’t care who they step on. They’re like politicians: they make their own fucking laws and screw over anyone else who doesn’t live by ‘em. But anyway, I shouldn’t bore you with my tirades. You might have a headache already. I don’t have any paracetamol or codeine, but there’s a Boots not far from here…"

“I’m alright, cheers love. Not many… one night stands… end up being quite so accommodating. I don’t have many, but then when you asked me to come home with you and…”

Molly shrugged.

Molly: "Neither do I. But in my line of work it’s not easy to find something… stable. Lots of travelling, and most people you meet, they’re not exactly right in the head."

The bloke whose name she still didn’t know, and didn’t really want to know to be honest, picked up his empty plate and cup and put it in the sink with the rest of the unwashed dishes that had heaped up throughout the rest of the week. He turned back to Molly.

“Listen, I hate to ask, but do you mind if I grab a quick shower? I can’t go on the bus smelling like this.”

Molly: "Knock yourself out, mate. If you don’t mind ice cold water, that is. Boiler’s been busted for years now."

“That’s right. I can take a look at that, like I promised. And do those dishes while I’m at it.”

Molly: "Wait. What do you mean, you promised?"

“Right, you don’t remember. But you didn’t let me finish before. You asked me to come home with you to clean your plates and fix your boiler. I didn’t know you meant it quite so literally then, but…”

Molly: "Well, we still ended up shagging, somehow. But seriously, you think you can fix it?"

“Let’s go and have a look, shall we?”

Molly couldn’t believe her luck.

Molly: "Turns out the day didn’t start as poorly as I thought it did, then! Knock yourself out, I have to get changed and do some promotional work for facing that Kim Chimeree or whatever the fuck her name is. Sounds like the bloody chimney sweep song from Mary Poppins."

As her one-time shag went to work, Molly stretched herself out, and regretted not busting out the Yorkshire tea for today. Asking herself if she’d been rude for not having asked his name yet, she shrugged. Maybe after he’d actually managed to fix it.
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