[Alien Earth] Alea Iacta Est

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Hmm, y-yeah... I'll still play
I should also probably do something in Left4Autism
 
Burned Man said:
Rex finally clears the last of the glitter for his eyes. "This match ain't over Flare! Two men enter and only one man will leave!" He climbs the turnbuckle and leaps into the air to preform a flying neckbreaker.
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Three Successes, 4 Damage.
Rex slams into Flare's shoulders, knocking the wounded man off balance. Head pinned twixt Rex's thighs, Flare can only scream helplessly as he realizes his impending fate. Rex flexes his chiseled thighs together.
Flare's head explodes like a hamster in a microwave, showering the crowd with chunks of grey matter, hair, and face tissue.
The crowed explodes in cheers as Rex does a backflip off the still standing corpse of Flare. The cheers grow even louder as Rex thrusts his arms in the air and turns to the crowd.
The sack of meat that was moments ago a sentient being falls to it's knees and flops forward.
One of the traitors, having run out into the main arena waving a revolver, manages to catch his bosse's head being turned into chunky spaghetti sauce. He takes off screaming about "head exploding quadriceps". The rest of the WCW raiders, upon hearing the grown man squealing in fear, decide that it might be a good time to beat a hasty tactical fallback. The two with Father Bart take their duct tape and run, pausing to yell a few insults at an injured WWE wrestler.
Now, what should we do?
 
Not quite the neck breaker I had planned but even more awesome. Rex stands in the ring to take in the admiration of the crowd and preform various victory poses still not entirely aware of the implications of what just happened. He also proceeds to snap into a piece of rat jerky.
 
As Rex bites into his tasty, whiskey infused rat jerky, he detects a humming noise. The din of the crowd settles into quite murmuring as the audience looks about in an effort to discern the source of the rapidly increasing noise. "hey, lookie thar" calls out someone in the peanut gallery, who points to an incoming object over a rat-on-a-stick stand. It's a quadrotor, complete with a telescreen and speakers. As it hovers over the arena like a hummingbird, the screen turns on, showing a darkened figure in a cliched dimly lit room.
"So, you puny WWE mothafuckas think you have won? Think again brotha. Those goons were just the reserves of the almighty WCW. My finest warriors are in the stronghold of the WCW right now, training. What for, you might ask. Brotha, you about to enter a whole new world of pain! You fuckas want to know why? Because in one week, we're fighting again! Right here, right now, full death match. Killing and small weapons allowed. The ultimate test of honor. You shall choose your best gladiators to fight against mine. "But Brotha" you may ask, "our finest warriors were injured in the attack by the forces of a certain handsome, sexy, and intelligent God of Wrestling?" Well, you better find yourself some new ones brotha, or else you lose by default. And we all know the penalty for an inter-federation forfeit."
"Nooooo" some unwashed plebeian calls out.
"Well brotha, let me inform you. According to wrestling law, a forfeited inter-federation wrestling match calls for the forfieters to be mocked and humiliated. Also, the current federation chieftain will be drawn and quartered by the winning clan. See you in a week Brothas!"
With that, the WCW drone takes off, to the angry boos of the crowd below. Slowly, a chant rises up, filling the stadium with an ear shattering roar of "WWF, WWF, WWF, WWF!"
 
Rex finishes his posing before dramatically pointing at the monitor. "Me and the Federation are going to be coming for you Sucka! And you can bet the money in the bank that you will be buried alive!" Rex satisfied with his improve skills decides to wait for Vince McMan to figure out how best to proceed with this storyline.
 
Bart checked to make sure his weapon was loaded before heading back out into the ring. He sought out a striped-shirted official in his quest for answers.
 
Chuggernaut said:
Bart checked to make sure his weapon was loaded before heading back out into the ring. He sought out a striped-shirted official in his quest for answers.
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It only takes a minute for Bart to find an official, a stout man with a large mane of red hair, who is in the final stages of bandaging a minor leg wound.
 
Oh gosh, I'm sorry, I didn't know that this was revived, but I'm happy it is!

WWF! WWF! WWF!

The chanting fills her satellite sized ears as a sensation of disorientation washed over the little white corgi. The battle had come to a close, with the kick from the rugged warrior bringing a feeling of discomfort to her side that made her wince. With a soft whine, she limped away from the body of the beaten wrestler and looked towards the people that fought along side her, eying them all warily. Her brown eyes gleamed as she studied them, wondering if they could be of any use to her strange and unusual powers.
 
Hunger Mythos said:
Oh gosh, I'm sorry, I didn't know that this was revived, but I'm happy it is!

WWF! WWF! WWF!

The chanting fills her satellite sized ears as a sensation of disorientation washed over the little white corgi. The battle had come to a close, with the kick from the rugged warrior bringing a feeling of discomfort to her side that made her wince. With a soft whine, she limped away from the body of the beaten wrestler and looked towards the people that fought along side her, eying them all warily. Her brown eyes gleamed as she studied them, wondering if they could be of any use to her strange and unusual powers.
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The deafening excitement of the crowd would be a potent source of energy for the corgi, if only there was a way to turn their attention to her.
 
Bart looked the official up and down. "I hate to pry, but exactly what just happened there and how did they manage to get past all the security?"
 
Chuggernaut said:
Bart looked the official up and down. "I hate to pry, but exactly what just happened there and how did they manage to get past all the security?"
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"That? Son, that was the Hulkdamned WCW."
The official grunts as he pulls the bandage tight around his leg. He wipes the blood on his hands off on his pants legs, pulls up a rusting, sticky folding chair, and sits down. The official stretches out his leg, takes a deep breath and begins to speak.
"I'm gonna assume yer new round these parts. Ain't no one from round here your age who don't know what the WCW is."
The man pauses, draws a weathered flask from is uniform pocket, greases his throat, and resumes talking.
"The WCW and the WWF have been feuding for as long as, well, anyone can remember. Probably goes all the way back to the Fall. Years ago they'd send their best warriors against each other in massive battles. However, this ended bout 30, 40, or 50 years back. Sometime before I was born, I ain't too sure of the dates. The mightiest warriors of the WWF and the WCW went against each other. It was a major clash. Rivers of blood stained the forests, ruins were reduced to rubble to throw at each other, and the sky itself trembled at the ferocity of the WWF. And so it happened. The WCW was crushed. Their warriors were shamed, their camps were overrun, and they were driven out into the hinterland. They managed to set up a camp there, but it's nothing like the vast encampments they once owned. For the past few decades, the WCW has managed to etch out a living as traveling performers and mercenaries, like the WWF. However, they're much weaker than the WWF, something they're well aware of. Which is why this is so Hulkdamned surprising. They've harassed us before, send weaklings to try and compete with our mighty warriors, hired bandits to attack us, stolen from us. But an attack of this size is unprecedented."
The official shock his head and flicked some of the copper strands of hair out of his face.
"Probably should have suspected something, they've been real quite for a while. Normally they're always sending us threatening messages, telling us how they're 'going to use the bones of their ancestors to force you filthy WWFaggots to tap out', tossing bricks into our camps with crude drawing of them shooting us on them, setting bundles of Tyrannosaurus shit in front of our encampments and lighting it up. But recently, haven't had a peep from them. Must'uve been preparing for this ever since this was announced."
The red haired referee sighs, finishes the drink in his flask, and looks at Bart.
"But listen to me ramble. That manage to answer yer question, cus?"
 
Bart nodded, looking around. "Do they have an arena like this as well? Have you considered reprisal attacks?"
 
After standing in the ring for an awkwardly long moment, Rex figured out McMan might not be coming and decided to head backstage and see what was going on, stopping occasionally to sign autographs and one small wooden figurine carved in his image.
 
Chuggernaut said:
Bart nodded, looking around. "Do they have an arena like this as well? Have you considered reprisal attacks?"
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"They have a small arena over in their main base, but it's nothing like this. Their base is over in Old London, and it's the reason we haven't been able to get rid of them. It's one of them old time office complex that they've fortified into a compound. We couldn't get rid of them without a shitton of men dying, and honestly we really didn't view them as much of a threat to attempt something like that. They'd do half assed raids, we'd fill them fulla holes, repeat."
 
The white corgi flicked her ears, listening to the the information spilling from the man's mouth. They were very curious, making her piece together just what this was all about, although she still wasn't entire certain what to make of it all. She he cocked her head this way and that, gazing up at him with ominous dark eyes, before attempting to use her telepathy on the official:

If we do away with these ignorant and immoral man-beasts, what would be in it for us?

Nox head tilted to the other side, brows perking in inquisitiveness.
 
Hunger Mythos said:
The white corgi flicked her ears, listening to the the information spilling from the man's mouth. They were very curious, making her piece together just what this was all about, although she still wasn't entire certain what to make of it all. She he cocked her head this way and that, gazing up at him with ominous dark eyes, before attempting to use her telepathy on the official:

If we do away with these ignorant and immoral man-beasts, what would be in it for us?

Nox head tilted to the other side, brows perking in inquisitiveness.
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The official jumps in his seat and frantically looks around. "What the fuck? Did you just hear someone?"
His eyes fall on the small corgi sitting next to him, and Nox repeats her telekinetic message.
"kay, a dog's talkin to me.. Um, okay, if you got rid of these guys, well we'd be pretty damn grateful. Although eternal glory don't really count for much, so we'd also pay you in guns, bullets, duct tape, vehicles, whatever. Don't quote me to that, I'm just a ring official. Go talk to one of the priests if you'd like to work out something official. McMan's the current leader, his office is right backstage, he should be there. All yah gotta do to get there is head into the backstage through the main doors, take a left, and follow the hall to the end. His room is the one that says "McMan" on it."

Burned Man said:
After standing in the ring for an awkwardly long moment, Rex figured out McMan might not be coming and decided to head backstage and see what was going on, stopping occasionally to sign autographs and one small wooden figurine carved in his image.
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Rex heads backstage, passing down the long, red carpeted hall full of bullet holes, spent energy cells, and wounded wrestlers. He comes to the wooden double doors with the gold star crudely spray painted on it and the word "McMan" carved into it. With the squeak of rusted hinges, Rex opens the door, and is greeted by a harsh yell as Vince vaults over his desk, rolls into a crouch, and pauses.
"Shit, sorry Rex. I thought you were one of them."
McMan gets up, sits down in a cracked leather desk chair, and opens a bottle of pungent whiskey.
"By the Hulkster himself, we're fucked. Bastards just took out most of our best fighters, and now they're challenging us to a fight. Lets hope their "finest warriors" are a couple of yahoos they've managed to rope into this, because if they're even halfway competent..."
Vince rubs his forehead and takes a shot of whiskey.
"If we had information on who these guys are we might stand more of a chance. And if we could take them...well, we could turn this incident around. We already had a great burst of publicity with that little stunt they pulled."
 
"You must regret having exiled so many warriors now. Especially since the entire amateur rooster got eaten by those behemoths last month. The odds might be stacked against us but this is hardly my fist handicap match."
Rex rubs his mustache and thinks back.
"They can't possible have any warriors of real worth. Did you hear the way they delivered their lines? What was that, jobber hour?" Rex paces the room and stretches his arms and cracks his knuckles. " Yeah! Just give me Septuple H, Stone Tone Steve Awesome and a couple of other guys and I'll crush em good." Rex puts on a brave face as expected of him but deep down even he knows this is an winnable match.
 
Burned Man said:
"You must regret having exiled so many warriors now. Especially since the entire amateur rooster got eaten by those behemoths last month. The odds might be stacked against us but this is hardly my fist handicap match."
Rex rubs his mustache and thinks back.
"They can't possible have any warriors of real worth. Did you hear the way they delivered their lines? What was that, jobber hour?" Rex paces the room and stretches his arms and cracks his knuckles. " Yeah! Just give me Septuple H, Stone Tone Steve Awesome and a couple of other guys and I'll crush em good." Rex puts on a brave face as expected of him but deep down even he knows this is an winnable match.
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"Rex, Septuple H had both legs broken by Audrey the Literal Giant in the attack. Steve Awesome had a bullet wound the last time I saw him. Stone Tone's okay though. I think. It's all going to depend on what they throw at us. If it's a couple of jenkim huffing yokels, which it most likely is, than you and Stone Tone should be able to take them. But if they've got someone tough, than the shit might hit the fan out there. If there was just some way of knowing..."
On cue, as if a desperate bid to get the plot moving by a unskilled game master, the tin can connected to a string hanging behind McMan began to clang as the string was yanked. A dull, bored voice echoed out of the "New England Clam Chowder" can.
"Mr. McMan, there's a talking dog and a priest here to see you about a job. Something to do with the WCW."
"Do I look like I've got time for....actually, send them in. This could be useful."
Father Bart and Nox walk in McMan's office.
 
"First down," Bart greeted him. "My condolences on this unprovoked attack." He began to take in his surroundings as he spoke, "It is like when wild bears would attack Green Bay in the beforetimes. In the spirit of our ancient heroes, and to prove that I am worth bestowing the secrets kept by your striped-shirts, I would seek your foes out."
 
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