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Friday Night: Immediately after Effin Rox entrance (Week 7 RP 3)

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Author Topic: Friday Night: Immediately after Effin Rox entrance (Week 7 RP 3)  (Read 413 times)
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mannytheniggarific
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that nigga you hate, love, and wanna ****


« on: August 07, 2009, 07:50:32 pm »

“So the new word around the street is that I’m **** crazy!” A voice comes booming through the arena, catching the audience off guard; they’re expecting some entrance music, courtesy of Black Kids, at the moment. The voice seems to come from the PA system, but there’s no video to legitimize that expectation. The chorus of boos rains down anyway as the fans can already tell whom the voice belongs to: the waiting Effin Rox’s opponent, Fervor Falls, and they hate that voice. Effin Rox stands in the ring looking toward the entrance ramp. A calm, nearly serene demeanor he exudes, which is a stark contrast to the anxious rage with which Fervor Falls seems to always carry himself.

“Maybe so, ****!” Fervor Falls voice booms again, though he’s still not visible. The procession of boos continue, though most of the people participating don’t even remember why they’re booing him anymore. But stubbornness overshadows logic, so they persist. There still seems to be no change in the stance of Effin Rox,  save for his slight bouncing, which is due to the rictor scale registering vibrations caused by this massive attack on the character of Fervor Falls. He has yet to make his entry, drawing the impatience and boredom of the crowd, who’s jeers die down.

However, giving those jeers a reason to restart, Fervor emerges through the curtain and onto the stage; a pair of gold aviator shades lay on his face. His choice of attire is fit for the ring and he carries both a microphone and his **** Title in his bandaged right hand, while the other hand salutes the crowd with one finger, causing the storm of boos to switch from rain to hale. What thoughts rest behind those shades, one can’t be sure. What is for sure, though, is the less than 10% of the audience members Fervor can draw support from on this all important evening. What might the plan be? How will it come together.

“If being crazy helps me deal with your retarded, remedial, special ed, yellow bus riding ass any better, then call me Bob mother **** Backlund!” Fervor’s middle finger remains up as he shouts right over the fans and their attempts to drown him out with hate. In a near frenzy of emotion, displayed in his voice and his actions, Fervor makes it a point to flip everyone he possibly can off as while he heads down the entrance ramp, placing the insulting finger no more than 4 centimeters away from the faces of no less than 20 people. The same can be said for the face of Effin Rox after Fervor Falls rolls into the ring and drops his belt at the feet of his opponent. Effin Rox accepts the lude finger gesture with narrowed eyes before Fervor turns his back on him, kicking the belt out of the ring in the same motion. He scans the incredibly unhappy crowd, their hearts dedicated, currently, to hating Fervor more than any other wrestler on Blackout. In response to this treatment, Fervor spits a fat, disgusting lugey into the crowd before telling them to, “Hate Mail That ****!” Fervor now turns and approaches Effin Rox, leaving barely six inches of space between them.

“Last week the word was ‘Fervor likes to sodomize impressionable young men.’ Strangely enough, then again, maybe not, you used that same dumb **** again this week. Now, I’m not even gonna address that **** except to say that maybe you are as stupid as I thought. No… you’re definitely as stupid as I thought. I don’t plan to go anywhere near your ass. I’m more focused on that mouth of yours.” Effin Rox takes a step back, seemingly revolted, while Fervor Falls takes a step forward in unison, licking his lips while he switches the microphone to his uninjured left hand. “Yeah, Effin, I’m gonna stick something in your pretty little mouth and deep down your lovely, slender, throat.” Another step back from Effin and another step forward from Fervor, Effin’s twisted look of disgust met by Fervor’s goofy grin. With a chuckle, Fervor raises his bandaged right hand, balled up in a fist, before knocking on his own head twice with it. “My Fever Pitchin’ Fist, ****!

“Effin, I’m gonna stick my foot down your throat, my knee down your throat, a sledgehammer handle down your throat… man, you’re gonna be getting gay **** offers from all the swallowing you’re gonna do today. And you’ll probably take ‘em all, too. I mean, with the way you’re fixated on my every action, studying the film from a little nightmare I had a few days ago, watching me while I sleep and ****, you seem like the type. But that’s just it, isn’t it. It’s what drives you and all these bastards in the stands so goddamn mad, mad enough to try and find every single solitary fault in me. Because it’s always about me.

“ME! Every minute of every day is filled with Fervor Falls. Wrestlers I’ve never even heard of name drop ME! UWE.com always has a brand new update on ME! You follow an interviewer around, but two **** reporters follow ME! Who’s the most happening feud on Blackout? Stoner and ME! Who gets more hate mail than the rest of those other fuckers get fan mail? ME! Who got your under achieving ass in the main event? ME! Who does Desiree make the plans for? ME! Who does Duke, your fuckin boss, turn to when he needs a ratings boost? ME! Who’s **** up turned into a good goddamn situation, and a title reign for ME? ME, ****! It’s all ME, all the time, everywhere, any place you might possibly turn in the UWME!, Fervor **** Falls, “The Desire” is the ONLY mother **** name that matters. Not Quentin Barnes, not Scylla, not Chip Horton, and goddamn sure not James Jowers or his Krushed pride. NO! The world is MINE, just the same as this belt is MINE, and just the same as this match is MINE with effin rox and generic ass referee as place holders.

Effin’s serene demeanor returns as he eyes the ranting Fervor Falls carefully, watching for the likely chance that he might snap and decide to get the match started right now. Fervor Falls turns around again, shouting, “Hang yourselves!” over the noise of the fans as he watches them with contempt. Slowly, Fervor turns back to Effin Rox, who has now regained his previous position near the center of the ring after being backed up previously.

“I told Desiree to stay back in the **** locker room tonight for a reason! The reason is that I, ME, FERVOR FUCKIN FALLS, “THE DESIRE”, have this **** together. See, Desiree’s plan was to let you get all confident, like you are right now, like you have been in your unscheduled interviews, let you land a few shots, then she was gonna come in through the crowd and crush your mother **** nuts with a lead pipe. But **** that plan. I don’t need it. I’m born, bred, and raised for ass kicking, and I can whip your little spiky haired, Goku wannabe **** ass all through this fuckin arena. So I told her **** THAT! I’m just gonna do my mother **** thing because I’m Fervor. I’m gonna prep Effin Rox for his future career as a cum guzzling, **** movie, Mr. Broadway copy cat because I’m Fervor. And it’s always about ME! This company, this ring, your life, even these fans, they all belong to ME! And you wanna know why?

“Cuz Duke Hamilton said so.”

With that, Fervor drops the mic and looks eye to eye with Effin Rox, the two engaging in a staredown for the ages. Achievement Unlocked! Epic Staredown: +15 EXP.  Level 3 Fervor Falls Achieved.


A/N: I don't feel like coding, and I didn't want this to go up so late, but I wrote it and I like my shoots, so I'm posting. Giggity.
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YEAH NIGGA!!! i have returned you swamp suckin sacks of horse ****. I say this with love mind you. suck a herpes outbreak dick if you don't like it. Biatches.

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Efinn Rox
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« Reply #1 on: August 07, 2009, 09:06:45 pm »

(I know this won't count)



[Efinn Rox kneels down and picks up the microphone.]

Efinn Rox: What's you obsession with sticking things in me?

[He slowly stands up.]

Efinn Rox: Is it my hair? You do realize my hair isn't spiky and I have no idea who Goku is. Is it really so stupid that I would be concerned about you and your desires. You basically threatened to sexually assault me. Now you...want me to get offers from gay **** companies...Fervor Falls , I'm going to say this once. No Means No. Have your...um...quote girlfriend explain it to you. It's funny that she came up with that plan to help you win. You certainly need it. When you think about it, the only reason she'd come up with a plan like that is because she thinks you CAN'T beat me on your own. You lack the capability. Her thoughts, not mine. To have someone so close to you doubt your skills...that's...sad.

[Efinn thinks about it and nods to himself.]

Efinn Rox: Poor you.

Efinn Rox: Is there anything surprising or wrong about me finding faults in you? I have to compete against you. I'm competing for the championship your carry in a match you should be better at than me. I have to find any and all weaknesses in you and exploit them to the fullest extent. I want to defeat you...again. It's essentially...my job. Besides, you're trying to do the same thing to me, except you need help and need to set traps because you don't exactly measure up.

Efinn Rox: You can call me and under achiever, as if it's an insult to me. But isn't it interesting to point out that we're competing in the SAME spot on the show because I Beat YOU and I didn't really have to try. Let's do this.

[Efinn hands the mic to the ref and steps away from Fervor Falls.]
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