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When Did Lance Become a Prostitute?; Nightcat
Topic Started: Aug 16 2013, 03:10 PM (111 Views)
TheSupremeForce
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Leviathan
[ *  * ]
Well, I suppose that I can work with this.

Nightcat's squatting on top of a narrow, wooden fence. It's unclear how he got up there, how he's managing to keep his balance, or even how the damned fence is supporting his weight. Life's a complete mystery sometimes.

Sure, I could complain that even when I'm not saddled with babysitting Inky, I still somehow wind up in a tag match, but I suppose there's something to be said for small victories.

For starters, my partner is a definite upgrade. One of my opponents is mildly entertaining, assuming that he bothers to say anything. Come on, Justin. Don't disappoint me.

My life has been little but disappointments lately. I can't drop these damned tag titles, so I'm stuck with my poor excuse for a tag partner and his increasingly daft personalities. I keep getting thrown into random matches against the world's least interesting people.

Hell, even my partner this week is a shell of his former self.
Come on, Lance. Remember when you gave a damn? You know... years ago when you were actually good at wrestling. When kicking ass was all you wanted to do? Does any of this ring a bell?

I'm beginning to wonder why you came back at all. Were you that broke? Have a lot of baby's mommas to support? What's the problem?

And if you were going to become the wrestling equivalent of a cheap hooker, couldn't you have at least limited yourself to higher end clients? Lately, you're just giving everyone who asks a turn to lie on top of you for three seconds at a time.

I imagine that it's easy enough money, but don't you have any pride?!

Be a man... again. That is, unless you enjoy being a sex pinata for second rate castoff wrestlers.

Consider this a test. You can man the fuck up, or I'm going to leave you to Justin and Rowley. Justin would probably just want to cuddle, so you've got that going for you. He might even buy you dinner.

Think about it. I'm damned close to giving up on your unmotivated, black ass.
[align=center]J-Crew[/align]
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SteadyStreaker
Rookie
[ * ]
A shell is an understatement.

Given the mood one would presume Lance to be throwing back some kind of alcoholic elixir, but nope. Clean as a whistle and sharp as a Masamune is Lance.

He's about as long as one, too.

He paces the land, stature and aura reminiscent of a chocolate god as he tosses around his blessings upon this barren, undeserving frontier of the wrestling world.

This, honestly, might just do it.

Cat, real talk, though.

Our beef has rotted many suns ago.
As hard as we'd try to keep it kindled it's obvious FIW has other plans for us.

Make me to look the fool, but know that I won't play the role.
Lance just doesn't fit - do with me as you see fit, but know this:

This upcoming match will be the most fun I'll have in a long ass time. I've been yearning for a chance to share the ring, fight alongside at that, with a man as destructive and fucking disregarding for sorry mother fuckers as I.

A chance to share the brutality with the stepbrother.

Poor Justin and that other guy.
Question:

Ever chance to take a fucking breath?

Now's your chance.
I'll make it your last. We'll do the deathblow dance. You'll bob and you'll weave. I'll miss, but when I tag your little pale ass -

I'll cripple.

Max.

I'll treat you like your name. You've got a fucking dog's name, son. You fucking cur..
You'll try and you'll try hard.

I'll just stand back and slap the fuck out of you.

Hard.

That goes for the intensity of the slap and the state of my dick.
Your boy's excited here in this fucking shack for once.

This ain't the 'force myself to give a fuck' Lance Steadfast talking either. This is the hurricane you hear meters away. The one that you'll stand on shore awaiting for a chance to call its bluff.

And when it arrives..

You throw punches.



And like that,
you've lost.


And we've won. Do I return to my unmotivated state? I think not. We continue our dominance. We press play on the onslaught.

The only pause, the opposition's fucking pulse.

I know you've got the ball and chain Incubus to drag.
Once you reach that cliff and drop the chaff, you hit me up.

If it's destruction and fucking common sense you want, I've got it.


You mother fuckers REALLY don't want Lance Steadfast giving a fuck.




Trust.
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