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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare RP Board
*BULK BULK BULK*
Author Message
Bulk Logan Offline
Active in XWF



XWF FanBase:
Families & Kids, casual fans

(fighting the odds; helps others; disliked by most adult male fans)


#1
10-25-2023, 07:29 AM


Coming to you live, from inside of the Bulkster's newest Hollywood gym.

Punching bags hang from the ceiling, wrestlers y'all've never heard of grapple in the ring, and the muffled sound of weights clinking fills the air.

Amidst it all, a sea of Bulkamania posters plaster the walls. 

The camera finally settles on the center of the room, where Bulk Logan stands, covered in a fresh mist of tap to simulate the effects of a rough 'n' tough workout.

A small group of wrestling geeks have gathered inside for the hope of catching a glimpse of the man, the myth, and the legend of all of Television, and they POP HUGE when he utters his opening words: "Alright, Bulkamaniacs!"


*HUGE POP*

"Y'all have heard what Mr. HAHA has been yapping about, and the Bulkster ain't one to let things slide, especially when you're trying to run wild on my turf, dude!"

The wrestling geeks erupt in cheers and chants: "BULK! BULK! BULK!"

Bulk, pointing towards the camera, his voice filled with passion: "So, Mr. HAHA, you think mentioning the match type so early was a smart move, brother?"

The geeky Bulkamaniac's boo at the mention of Y'all Know Who.

Bulk, shaking his head in disbelief: "Dude, while Steve Sayors' life is on the line, you're out there running your gab about how you THINK you're going to strap the Bulkster into the chair? Cold-hearted, brother! but I'm here to tell ya, you've got your priorities all wrong, man. Instead of spewing early talk about match types, you should be putting all your focus on doing what needs to be done in that clown court of your, brother, and that's saving the heartbeat of XWF Television himself, our main man, Steve, the face of XWF for over 20 years!"

The geeks don't pop for Steve, so Bulk flexes his biceps to get'em going!

*NICE POP*

Bulk, leaning forward with intensity: "But here's the thing, Mr. HAHA. You've been making comparisons, trying to tie me to the likes of Terry Borden and Hulk Hogan. Saying we're all the same, just old-timers clinging on, afraid to pass the torch. Yadda, yadda, yadda! Let me get something straight with you, dude, and all you Bulkamaniac's out there know it to be true, dudes! I am the ORIGINAL Hulk Hogan. The tale of how Vince McMahon swiped my life, my essence, and handed it to that charlatan Terry Bollea is no secret. It's a story of betrayal, of how the spotlight that was rightfully mine got stolen from me."

"Terry Borden? Everyone knows that dude's just a hack the likes of 'The Nature Boy' Buddy Landel and and that no-good 'One Warrior Nation, brother!"

"Fakes, fraudes, CHEAP IMITATIONS of the original with half the flair and none of the heart, brother!"

The geeks start to murmur, nodding in agreement.

Bulk, pressing his point further: "And to answer your ill-informed comments, dude, I stepped aside not just once, but TWICE. The first time, when my identity was snatched right from under my nose, and the second time when there was all that noise about some words I said. Words taken out of context, and blown up by people who didn’t understand."


He paces around the gym, pointing at the younger wrestlers grappling in the background.

"You see all these young guns training, sweating, giving it their all? In all my time away from that squared circle, not one man, woman, or child has had the guts, the determination, the pure fortitude to fill the legendary boots of the Bulkster. There's been a void, brother, a void only the power of Bulkamania can fill. It's not about clinging onto the past, it's about realizing that there's still no one who can electrify the crowd, bring passion to that mat, and drive the pure essence of professional wrestling like the Bulkster can, brother!"

Bulk pauses, looking directly into the camera with a steely gaze.

"And if you or anyone else thinks that the Bulkster needs to step aside, needs to fade into the sunset, I say this: come and try to make me, dude! Because if you step into this ring with me, you're stepping into the eye of the storm,  and trust me, brother, it's a storm you're not prepared to weather, dude!"

Brother, even after going toe-to-toe with Father Time, check out these pythons and this energy! I'm still here, larger than life, still rocking and rolling like it's the glory days of '84, dude! The fire of Bulkamania, it's never dimmed, not for a second. And now, with this golden shot to teach a fresh wave of fans about the true essence of Bulkamania, let me tell you something, brother, I'm hitting the gas and running wilder than ever before, dude!

He pauses, letting the words sink in, flexing those iconic muscles again.

"Listen here, brother! You think you can just erase the past, pretend like those losses never happened, and paint yourself as a winner against the Bulkster? Well, let me tell ya something, dude! The real champs, the real legends of this sport, they don't need to hide from their past. They embrace it, learn from it, and come back stronger, brother!"


"You might be looking at the rearview mirror, trying to change what's already gone by, but I'm right here in the now, staring right at you, dude. I've battled giants, I've faced legends, I've weathered storms that would've blown lesser men away. And yet, here I stand, brother– a pillar of strength, still rockin' and rollin', still the shining star in the vast wrestling galaxy. So, Mr. HAHA, if you think throwing around baseless accusations and erasing a few tapes will give you an edge against Bulk Logan, you've got another thing coming, dude! Because in the present, when you're face to face with me in that ring, you'll know why I'm still the main event, the top attraction, the immortal one, brother!"

"So listen up, brother! You're stepping into two very different rings, my man. One's the court, and the other's the squared circle with the Bulkster. And let me tell ya something, dude, neither one's looking too good for you. But for the sake of Steve Sayors, the true heart and soul of XWF Television, I hope you can pull off a miracle in that courtroom, man, because we all want to see Steve free and back where he belongs."


Bulk's eyes then narrow, his voice deepening with intensity. "But let's say, just for a moment, you fail in that mission. If you let Steve down, if you let the world of XWF Television down, well then, brother, you're going to feel the full force of the Bulkster's wrath. And that's not a threat, dude, that's a promise. I've faced the toughest, the meanest, and the baddest in this business, and I've always come out on top, brother. So, Mr. HAHA, if you think you're gonna walk into our match and walk out the same, you've got another thing coming."

And with a confident smirk, Bulk finishes off. "Because when it's all said and done, when the dust settles, and the crowd's gone wild, I just might have to introduce you to a little bit of electrifying hospitality, dude. And when you're strapped into that chair, wondering where it all went wrong, just remember: You chose this path, brother. And the Bulkster? He's just the one to give you that shock of a lifetime, dude!"

The geeks erupt to chants of "BULK! BULK! BULK!" shaking the very foundation of the gym.

The camera fades out on Bulk's determined face, leaving no doubt about the fire still burning within the heart of this legendary figure.



The scene transitions from the raucous chants of the gym to a more muted setting. The walls are decorated with wrestling memorabilia from decades past, and a gleaming championship belt is visible on a glass shelf.

This is Bulk's personal office, and we can see him lounging on a leather sofa, his massive frame taking up most of the space.

The door bursts open, and Larry storms in, visibly agitated. Behind him trails Gary, who seems to be attempting to calm him down but to no avail.

"Larry, man, what's got your tights in a twist?" Bulk asks, feigning innocence with a sly smirk.

"It's the Biden video, Bulk! I know you messed with it! My new Ring doorbell captured everything!" Larry waves his phone, playing a video where Bulk can be seen sneaking into the office after hours.

Bulk raises an eyebrow, and Gary jumps in to defend him. "Larry, you're way off base here! Bulk doesn't even know how to turn on a computer, let alone tamper with video footage."

Larry points accusingly at the screen. "This isn't a debate about Bulk's tech skills, Gary! Look! Right there, Bulk sneaking in! What was he even doing here after hours?"

Gary tries to defuse the situation. "Look, Larry, maybe he just came in to pick up some personal stuff. I mean, come on, it's Bulk we're talking about. The guy can barely send a text."

Bulk, leaning forward, tries to sound genuine. "Larry, brother, I was just here to grab my old match tapes. You know, to study my moves before the big showdown."

Larry narrows his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "Bulk, since when do you study anything, let alone your own moves? Everyone studies the moves of their opponents, not their own! It's like studying for a test by reading your own notes instead of the information in the textbook!"

Bulk chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, brother, you know me. Always gotta be different. Besides, have you seen Mr. HAHA's moves? Snooze-fest! I figured, if I'm going to bring the house down, I better make sure I nail every single one of my signature slams to perfection. The fans deserve nothing less, dude."

Gary, trying to support Bulk, adds, "And besides, Larry, Bulk's always had a unique approach to things. Maybe this is just his way of getting into the zone."

Larry, still skeptical, raises an eyebrow. "Unique approach? That's one way to put it. But Bulk, let's be honest. You're the same guy who once tried to pin his own shadow because you thought it was your opponent's. Your commitment to preparation isn't exactly legendary."

Bulk grins sheepishly. "Alright, you got me there, dude. But every now and then, even the Bulkster feels like shaking things up a bit. Plus, watching my old matches? That's like a walk down memory lane. Gets the adrenaline pumping!"

Larry sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm not sure if I should be impressed or concerned. But here's the deal, Bulk. Stay out of the office after hours. And for the love of God, don't mess with anything. Especially not important videos!"

Bulk nods, slowly getting to his feet. "Alright, Larry, you got it. No more sneaking around after dark. But brother, I've gotta say, I did warn you about using that Biden footage in the first place. The dude's been in the game a long time, and he's made a lot of waves. You're swimming in deep waters with that one."

Larry, exasperated, throws his hands up. "It was just a harmless promo video, Bulk. We weren't making a political statement."

Bulk raises a hand, counting off on his fingers. "Well, you've got the far left, the far right, international rivals... shoot, even some conspiracy theorists might have a bone to pick. The political world is a wrestling ring of its own, and Joe's taken on some heavy hitters, dude."

Gary interjects, "And don't forget those keyboard warriors on X. Some of those guys are relentless."

Bulk nods in agreement. "Exactly, Gary. Larry, all I'm saying is, you're pointing fingers at the Bulkster here, but there are plenty of folks who might want to pull a fast one on anything related to Biden. Heck, maybe it was Putin's doing, or perhaps those North Korean hackers. Or, you know, maybe one of those Bernie Bros. Who knows, dude?"

Larry sighs deeply, looking weary. "I get it, Bulk. But I still need to find out who messed with the video. This could have serious implications for the company."

Bulk places a reassuring hand on Larry's shoulder. "Don't worry, brother. I've got your back, no matter what. We'll get to the bottom of this. And hey, maybe next time, go with a less controversial figure for your promos. Like... Mr. Rogers or Bob Ross. Everyone loves those guys."

Gary chuckles, "Yeah, imagine a Bob Ross-themed wrestling event. 'Happy little body slams.'"

Bulk laughs heartily. "Now that's a pay-per-view I'd buy!"

Larry rolls his eyes. "You do realize, Bulk, that both Mr. Rogers and Bob Ross are no longer with us, right?"

Bulk's eyes widen in genuine surprise, while Gary's jaw drops. "Wait, what?!" Bulk exclaims, looking genuinely distraught. "Not Bob with the happy little trees! And Mr. Rogers? Oh man, my childhood's taking a real hit today, brother."

Gary with an exaggerated sniff: "Those happy clouds will never look the same. And who's gonna be my neighbor now?"



Later that night...

At some bar.

Gary sips at his whiskey, tears forming in his eyes. "I just... I can't believe it, Bulk. Mr. Rogers and Bob Ross? They were a part of our lives, man."

Bulk, cradling a beer mug that looks like a shot glass in his huge hands, nods, his eyes red-rimmed. "Those guys... they were the real deal, brother. No scripts, no fake moves. Just pure heart. I feel like a piece of my childhood just got body-slammed."

Gary sniffs, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "They brought so much light into this world. It's just... not fair."

Bulk's face contorts with emotion. "I remember waking up every Saturday morning, excited to see Bob paint those happy trees. And Mr. Rogers? He taught me it was okay to have feelings, even for big guys like me." 

"They may be gone, Bulk, but they left behind a legacy. They'll always be with us, in our hearts."

The two continue to drown their sorrows, drink after drink. As the night wears on, the gleam of a wild idea begins to spark in Bulk's eyes. He suddenly straightens up, his sadness temporarily pushed aside by newfound determination.


"Gary," he slurs slightly, gripping his friend's shoulder, "I've got it. I've got the solution!"

Gary, a little taken aback, squints at Bulk. "What are you talking about, man?"

Bulk leans in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "We can fix this. We can bring them back."

Gary blinks, confused. "Bring who back? Bulk, have you had one too many?"

But Bulk is undeterred, the wheels in his mind clearly turning. "Remember that trip I took to New Orleans a few years back? Met that Voodoo priestess? She taught me some... stuff."

Gary's eyes widen. "Bulk, you can't be serious. Voodoo? That's... that's crazy talk."

Bulk nods fervently. "Exactly! Crazy enough to work! But I'll need your help, brother."

Gary hesitates, sensing that Bulk isn't revealing the full extent of his plan. "What do you need me for?"

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Bulk replies. "A little bit of this, a little bit of that. Just trust me, okay?"

Despite his reservations, the bond between Gary and Bulk runs deep. "Alright," Gary sighs, "But if we get turned into frogs or something, I'm blaming you."

The two stumble out of the bar, arm in arm, ready to embark on their wild quest to bring back the legends of their childhood. 

But honestly? Neither of them truly knows the unpredictable world of Voodoo they're about to delve into.
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