WARNING: This roleplay has been edited for content. It has been modified to fit your screen.
Good evening. Police, do not try to adjust your radios. There is nothing
wrong. We have takin control over this city as to bring you this special
bulletin and we will return this motherfluffer to ya as soon as the National Guard move in.[/size]
From your deepest and darkest fantasies, from the outer reaches of your mind, like shock therapy, meant to send a shock to the very tip of your membrane and a spasm of energy through your idle corpse.. Through the darkness and dankness of the basement, each and every stair creaking and popping with the steps, emerges the anti-hero. His eyes are quite jaded, looking as if missing sleep for several days if not weeks. His pant legs drag the steps as he pulls himself from the final step, dragging his feet as he emerges.
Underneath his arm lays a rolled tablet, an obvious clue as to what exactly he was doing in a basement to start with. He strolls across the glazed stone floor with an eased conscience, dragging his feet slightly as he stamps across the room, sauntering towards the paten leather couch that is positioned horizontally against the wall. As he takes the final step en route to the couch, he breaks downwards, crashing into the couch, careful to secure the tablet on the way down.Come with me as I take you on a journey through the obsolete and the obscene.. The bi-polar and the biblical son.. A story with more twist and turns than a rambunctious rollercoaster, off it’s tracks and heading directly to the depths of hell. This psycho circus if you will, as we walk the high walk on this precarious cord, a perpetual attempt to not fall and plummet to the depths of obscurity.
Keeping a steady grip on the tablet he produced from his underarm, the anti-hero quickly skims over the tablet, nodding to himself in self agreement as he reads his own illegible chicken scratch. A quick survey of the paper provides no actual answers, as the paper is covered in various colors of ink, staining the paper in any available space. The tablet almost looks like middle school notes in the unorganized manner they are scribbled to the tablet. This impending apocalypse.. The doomsday theory, if you will. Why continue to preach what the world already knows. Why continue to do what everyone already sees? Because no one really gets it. No one can read between the lines enough to understand what is going on. No one can solve the anonymity. No one can unwrap the enigma. But all it takes is reading between the lines.
Reading a line of the scroll, he seems to have his attention diverted elsewhere, his eyes wondering away from the paper at a moment’s notice, but quickly darting back to the crumbled tablet and back to reading the line he was previously on.To become a hero.. What does it mean to become a hero? To bring yourself to such a pedestal where you are simply untouchable. To declare yourself as an immortal and to bring yourself to the greater. To the higher up. You could call me a hero. Or you could call me an anti-hero.
Ending his speech, he moves the tablet away, rocking slightly on the couch as he moves the paper to a nearby table. He casually grabs a cup that rests on the table, taking a quick sip of the contents before replacing it where it was.Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about seeking whom he may devour. 1 Peter v. 8. One of my favorite scriptures.. Because I walk the lion den.. And eventually.. I’m going to get bit.. But not tonight.. And not soon..
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If you don't have anything to die for, you shouldn't be living[/color]
- Cory Miller
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“Mr. Schneider....”
Obo: Indeed.. How is the family, John?
Stepping into this suite, the glaringly bad yellow wall paper, stained with tar from cigarette smoke and filth, I am greeted with the smell of burning hair. Some 70s Western movie is playing on the TV that is nearly as old as the film itself. The desk, though somewhat cluttered, is still rather fresh, showing that my contact has not been here long. I step in and make myself at home, immediately noticing a woman on the bed. She’s spread quite widely on this silly stained mattress, quite proud of where her life has taken her and brought her to this place. The look on her face is contentment, as if she had just got fluffed moments before I arrived. She looks about 40, but can’t be more than 20. Her eyes are bagged and her skin is wrinkled, but candy is a hell of a drug. I extend my hand for a sign of friendship, but when given the cold shoulder, I promptly pull it back.John: Phillip, it has been far too long since you visited me.. What is the special occasion? Is Ashley needing a powder?
Obo: I’m not with Ashley any more. She’s been dealt with.
John: A man always takes care of his business.
He points gingerly at the woman spread on the bed, shaking his finger ever so slightly as he marvels at his accomplishment.John: This, is Marilyn.. Marilyn.. Phil..
She nods her head. What a self absorbed carrot, can’t even dignify herself with two words..John: So…”
Obo: So…
John: What are you here for?
Obo: You know what I am here for.. Where is it?
John: I don’t have it. You have any money?
Huff.. It’s always more complicated with him. Why does he have to go and make things so complicated? I see the way he’s acting like he’s somebody else.. Gets me frustrated. He’s so conceded. I really don’t have the time to play these monkey games with him today, but I’m desperate, so I bite.Obo: Well, I don’t have any money either.
John: Where is it? In the car?
Obo: Nope, nothing in the car.
John: No?
Obo: How ‘bout you? Where you have your stuff? You hiding it somewhere around here?
John: Not far..
Obo: Okay man.. You want me to just like, leave.. Come back in.. We start over again?
He chuckles a little bit in a conceded manner.John: Where you from man?
Obo: What difference does it matter where I am from?? What kind of fluffinging question is that?
John: Chill man.. I’m just trying to get to know you a little bit..
My ire has been raised.. This guy is acting very fishy.. Or perhaps that’s the girl on the bed. Either way.Obo: You can get to know me when you do business with me.. Give me what I want, and I’ll give you what you want!
He approaches me slightly.. Flufferer is trying to intimidate me or something. I feel a sudden sting in my hand and he’s laying on the ground. Casualties happen in war, I suppose. The broad from the bed has suddenly stood up and has a gun in her hand. Mistake one.Obo: What are you going to do with that thing? You going to shoot me? You going to kill me you dumb carrot? No carrot can take me down. Come on carrot, shoot me!
She speaks with a strong Russian accent.Marilyn: I don’t like that word..
She takes a wild shot, but misses me by a mile and shoots the wall. I take this as my opportunity to leap, snatching the gun out of her hand and quickly pinning her to the bed. She struggles momentarily, but stops when she feels the barrel of the gun pressed to her back.Obo: Not so froggy when the shoe is on the other foot, are you? You know, you’ve got a whole lot of balls when you’ve got a pistol in your hands.. But you can’t do me in..
I pull the gun away and start up to my feet and she tries to do the same. Mistake number two. This gets her thrown face first into the wooden headboard and her shirt ripped clean off her back. Like a carrot, she’s braless. She scrambles in vanity to cover her exposed chest, but it’s for naught. With the shreds of her shirt, I make a quick loop not and tie her to the bed, inserting the barrel of the gun in her mouth.Obo: You know, you’re not so bad looking when you’ve got a mouthful, carrot.
She tries to kick at me. Mistake number three. This earns her a hard knee to the gut and a slap across the mouth. My contact has raised back up, blood slightly trickling for his mouth. He lunges at me and gets a firm kick to the gut. He doubles over across the bed and gets a possibly tainted saliva soaked gun barrel to his back.Obo: We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. You’re going to give me what I want.. Or this hotel room is going to get awfully messy..
John: Ok.. It‘s in the closet.. Over there..
Obo: Stand up slowly. I am behind you. If you make any sudden moves, your spine will be rearranged to my liking. I am going to walk you over to it.. And you’re going to retrieve it for me..
Slowly, I pull up. I end up with several inches between him and the gun. A quick punch to the back with my left hand gives him the idea and he puts himself right back in front of my gun. He slowly turns and starts towards the closet, inching only a step at a time.John: I am going to open the door now
He slides the door open easily and slowly. I see what I want instantly. He pulls the door all the way open before reaching up and pulling it down. The duffle bag. A quite nice duffle bag, especially for what is inside of it. He hands me the bag, which I accept with my left hand. But upon gripping with my left hand.. I subconsciously grip with my right as well.. And subconsciously a shot is fired. Which subconsciously brings him to the ground in a bloody twitching mess.Obo: I thank you for your time. It was a pleasure doing business with you.
I exit the room quickly as my ears are filled with shrieks of horror and disgust. Oh death, how comforting are thee.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Die Umbaumannschafttitel. Ich bin hinunter die Straße, zur Spitze der Sackgasse gewesen. Dann drehte mich ich herum und fuhr herauf den Berg. Ich bildete ihn zur Obo des Berges und ich kämpfe, um zurück zu der Obo zu erhalten, die einem Fehlbetrag folgt. Und er scheint, daß meine einfachste Wegunterstützung durch die gleiche Straße ist, die ich bereits gereist bin. Teilen Sie sich und erobern Sie. Wenn Sie die Unterseite auseinandernehmen, zerbröckelt die Spitze des Berges. So kreise ich die Unterseite ein. Ich greife die Unterseite an.
Halten Sie die WFWF Umbau-Mannschafttitel für meine Auswahlaxt und mir die Fähigkeit bewilligen, an der Unterseite des Berges zu zerhacken und zu zertrümmern und weg kleine Segmente der Mittellinie Habsucht zerbrechen, bevor Sie schließlich sie, ihrer Titel und ihrer Würde abstreifen. Sie ist gegeben. Ich lasse nicht Superbrawl ohne Gold. Nicht wieder. Dieses ist das größte Stadium von ihnen alles. Und ich sterbe nicht. Ich sinke nicht weg vom Berg ab, weil die Grundlage bereits zerbröckelt.
Trotz der Schwächen und verhältnismäßig einfachen der Punkte der Grundlage der Handhabung, ich Entdeckung selbst zuerst beschäftigend ein Erzeugung vom überholten. Ein Erzeugung kranken in einer unaufhörlichen Bewegung Vorrichtung des Ausfalls gehaftet zu werden angespornten und kranken von fated, von dem bestimmt, durch ihr eigenes Habsucht und Schwein headedness. Die Hohe Grausigkeit. David Williams. Flamez.. Diese Leute sind hier für ein Jahr, mehr gewesen, und das absolute beste können sie vollenden sind ein mageres Multimann Jagtgleiches. Besagtes Flamez selbst dieses ist sein grosser Schuß.
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The tag team titles.. I’ve been down the road, to the very tip of the dead end.. Then I turned around and drove up the mountain.. I made it to the top of the mountain and I’m struggling to get back to the top following a short fall.. And it seems my easiest path back up is through the same road I have already traveled. Divide and conquer. If you take apart the base, the tip of the mountain will crumble. So, I’m circling the base. I’m assaulting the base.
Consider the WFWF Tag Team titles my pick ax, granting me the ability to hack and smash at the base of the mountain, shattering away small segments of Axis greed before eventually stripping them, of their titles and their dignity. It’s a given. I’m not leaving Superbrawl without gold. Not again. This is the biggest stage of them all.. And I will not die.. I will not plummet off the mountain, because the foundation is already crumbling.
In spite of the foundation’s weaknesses and relatively easy spots of manipulation, I find myself first dealing with a generation of the obsolete.. A generation of the ill inspired and the ill fated, destined to be stuck in a perpetual motion device of failure through their own greed and pig headedness. The High Horror.. David Williams.. Flamez.. These people have been here for a year, some more, and the absolute best they can accomplish is a meager multi-man scramble match. Flamez himself said this is his big shot.
Soon enough, however.. The incompetent will fall and the Axis will meet their first real threat.. Understand, Axis.. This is a direct Fluff You to you. This is a Fluff You to everything you stand for. This is a Fluff You to your families, your friends, and the friends of your family. And this is a Fluff You to WFWF in general as well, and the pathetic mess it has become as of late.
Dedicated to the Memory of Wayne McGurkOver three thousand years ago.. Egypt.. One of the most powerful dynasties of all time.. A young boy.. Just nine years old.. Descended the throne. His name was Tutankhamun. King Tut might have remained a minor foot note in history.. But for an amazing discover in the nineteen thirties.. A British archeologist made an amazing discovery.. A stunning tomb of golden artifacts.. The trappings of a pharaoh who’s people saw him as a living god. Tutankhamun inherited a country in disarray. An impending empire threatened Egypt’s borders.. Tut’s predecessor, Pharaoh Akhenaten, who may have been his father.. Created turmoil by enfacing Egypt’s many cultures into only one. Amarna, the sun disc.. Tutankhamun’s control was unexpectedly seized when he died at the ripe age of nineteen.. How he died.. Is still a mystery..
When the world was milk and honey.. And the magic was strong and true.. The world was a nicer place.. But now, the chains are off.. The sabbatical son has been set free of that which holds him back, released from an eternity of hell and set free.. But the spirit is vengeful, for setting one free from the chains is not enough.. He had the world.. He had the dynasty of an entire people held at his grasp, but it was all taken away because of the selfishness of those same people, the people set in place to protect the son of the savior, were the ones that destroyed him.
It’s slightly ironic, those who built him up to such a pedestal, are also the ones who destroyed him. The same ones who brought him to King, are the assassins to start with. But they were smooth about it, with the untimely death at the prime age of nineteen. The ancient Egyptians knew what they were doing. They were a methodical group of misfits, banding together to make a modern civilization, millenniums before the same culture was Westernized.
This is rather sickening, that a culture three thousand years our senior could figure it out, but we, as a culture in general, cannot.. We cannot figure that when our leader is an incompetent fool.. We kill him.
Fluff the Memory of Wayne McGurkAs time changes, some things stay the same. Wayne McGurk, how long has it been. Two months? How long has it been since I had you a bloodied and a broken mess? Since I threw you to hell? But now you’re the booker. I bow to you, booker man. Give me some twists and turns.. You’re the champion now. I am but a meager challenger. Everything is going to be different. This is your time. This is your dynasty. Superbrawl V daddy! Look how far we’ve come! God damn it, you’re Wayne FLUFFINGING McGurk! You bring your wife to ringside, smoke cigarettes, and ride a motorcycle! You only drink hard alcohol, because you’re a MAN! To me though, you’re just a six foot sack of silly. Wayne, all your accolades don’t mean silly to me.. So you’ve won the Tag Team championships. Big deal. I’ve done it. Twice. I’m going to do it again. You held the International title. Awesome. Too bad I did it about six months before you..
To me, you’re little more than nothing. You’re less than nothing. You’re like Tut, Wayne. You were brought to power far before you were ready.. And you went mad with the power. The power went right to your head and you’ve been making some really stupid choices. McGurk.. Open contracts are one of the dumbest things you could have ever done. Remember the open contract battle royal from a couple months ago, which saw me as the reigning World champion, nearly win the International championship.. And saw the rise of the man who will eventually be the predecessor to your throne when your untimely death comes, Thunder.
You want to some day be nothing. Wayne McGurk.. Learn from your past. Seriously.. Have you not been paying attention? TAKE NOTES IN CLASS STUDENTS! THIS MATERIAL WILL BE ON THE FINAL EXAM! Look at yourself and wonder why Obo kills you. Wonder why Obo demolishes your world on a semi-monthly basis and leaves you a broken shell of your former self, over and over again.. Look back at yourself. Look at the man in the mirror. Look at the man in the mirror and look deep into his eyes. What do you see? You see fear. You see the destruction of the man you once called yourself, and you’re not exactly sure who stands in your place now. Because I’ve destroyed you so many times.. And taken everything that you hold dearly.. And changed it.. And broken it.. You’re changed.. And You don’t like the man you’ve become. But neither do I..
Wayne McGurk.. You’ve changed me. You alone have altered my path, dithered me and changed me. By constantly having to demolish you.. By having to destroy these reincarnated versions of the shell of you.. My path has been forcefully changed.. And because of you.. I’m back here, at square one.. Where I started my professional career.. Over four long years ago.. The Tag team division. You see Wayne, ever since I threw you to hell off a scaffold.. You’ve been like a nat. a little swarming nat. Serving no real purpose in my life other than to cause a distraction and to hopefully get me to swat at you. Through your self centered self destruction and annihilation of the Tag Team ranks, you’ve forced me to swat you once more. Through your boasting and bragging.. You’ve forced me to lash out at you once more. And you forced me to knock Trent Draven down a flight of stairs. Yes, McGurk, this is all on you. And your metro sexual green haired friend. And your wife. And his wife. And her lesbian stalker. It’s all your faults.
You see Wayne, the WFWF Tag Team championships have a great value to me.. They were the first championships I won in this sport.. They were what allowed me to break out and show myself as a great athlete.. I shed blood over those titles.. I dedicated months of my life at a time to winning those titles.. And for you to make a mockery of them in one sided contests with The Survivors and other ill fated pairs of water under the collar, green nosed panty waist bitch two dollar whore teams.. It makes me sick. It makes me angry. And it makes me feel like righting the wrongs of society.
Wayne McGurk.. Count your blessings.. Because tonight.. We dine in heck. Rest in Peace, King Wayne.
