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It's Time To Play The Game!
Chapter 24

(Finished this up inbetween commercial breaks of RAW. I am dead serious when I say I'm only watching to see what they do with Ryder, and so far it has only made me feel safer in my extended vacation from WWE programming that is not occasional Superstars. I have some ranty bits in my brain lately, so I may write a normal column one of these days, but every time I think about it I think better of it. I'd rather just right these fun things and have people enjoy them then do fantasy booking or reviews or tell you people how I feel about certain things. Even though I so do that in my columns anyways. And will, more than likely, write one expounding on how half the people online could book better than WWE currently does, but...well, we'll save that for a time when you guys aren't chomping at the bit for a new chapter. So eat up, me hearties for tomorrow we die. Well, maybe you guys. But not me.)

UncleJoe: So can I get another move off or should I wait until you discuss the effects of the digital age on a televised product?

OniBarubary: Well honestly, I think it has a tremendous effect on ratings as well as causes a company that cannot evolve itself over time to fit the popular form of media integration and acquisition. WWE has record low buys and staggering ratings and it proceeds to continue to latch onto that audience and keep the status quo, when that will either improve the situation or hinder it.

Hustle: I’m not so sure about that, you may have some people tuning out due to-

Joe: I wasn’t serious. If you actually talk about this I will staple the head of your dick to your taint.

Oni: Fine, I can see that the height of conversation in this room will be “whose ass would you hotdog?”

Joe: Vickie.

Hustle: Layla.

MissouriDragon: Tessmacher.

Cold: Del Ray.

Oni: Daffney. Dammit, you tricked me into your pace again. Joe, what are you doing now? Give.

Joe: Does Broad-dick have a signature move?

Cold: Chops.

Joe: Besides chops.

Cold: More chops.

Oni: He does backbreakers. A lot of them. He probably hit you with a couple this match.

Joe: Is his finisher a backbreaker?

Oni: Newp. He’s an RoH guy so he has like, 7 or 8. Realistically, it’s either a Gibson Driver or Stronghold.

Joe: A fucking what or a what?

Oni: You know, like a Tiger Driver and a Walls of Jericho.

Joe: A what and what?

Oni: Argh.

Hustle: A Pearl River Plunge and a Cloverleaf.

Missou: A Tiger Bomb and a Backbreaker.

Oni: Hell no, not this again. It’s a double underhook powerbomb and a boston crab.

Joe: Why didn’t you just say that?

Oni: Because I give you too much credit.

Joe: Doesn’t matter anyways, he ain’t hitting ‘em.

Oni: God dammit. The day you die I will hire a full orchestra to play La Cucaracha at your funeral as I dance a festival over your grave.

Hustle: What makes you think he’ll die before you?

Oni: Because I’m going to kill him.

Joe: Backbreakers, huh? Alright, well I tell him to reverse my next shit and hit me with a light backbreaker. Tilt a whirl or something.

Missou: That’s light?

Joe: Well whatever.

Oni: He gets the message. And as such, I roll for him.

Oni is a man of his word

Oni: After some simple wrestling that I won’t bother getting rolls for, because two untrained porpoises could do it in a sauna with less botching, he gives you the backbreaker. It…feels like a backbreaker should. I don’t think anyone’s ever actually gotten injured or broken anything from a backbreaker. Has anyone?

Cold: Don’t think so.

Oni: Huh. That’s kinda interesting. Wonder why that is, when so many other smaller dumb things have hurt people.

Joe: Toughness roll?

Oni: Huh? No. It’s an easy move to take. No need.

Joe: Word. I spring up from it, holding my back and then try to play it off as nothing bad. Like, walk it off type shit and give a cringing smile.

Oni: That’ll take a roll, Laurence Olivier.

Joe: Not even asking who that is this time.

Oni: You should be able to tell from inference. You’re a smart kid.

Joe rolls and the die turns up with a 5

Joe: Piece of shit. I think I’m starting to see what you mean by never getting rolls when you need them.

Oni: It’s the secret of table-top gaming dude; dice are your worst fucking enemy. Too bad the whole game revolves around them. It’s not so bad though, you weren’t trying to do anything too difficult and your score is high as it is. Crowd is more laughing at you now, which may be gaining you the wrong kind of heat since it’s mostly focused on you and not Roddy.

Hustle: That’s not so bad. It is his debut and he’s trying to get them to remember him, not talk about what Strong’ll be doing later this month.

Oni: Perhaps. Regardless, they’re laughing at your hijinks. I assume there’s more? Or was this your grand plan?

Joe: Course not. My mind is like a prism dude, you feed boring ole light into it and I’ll give you a fucking rainbow.

Missou: So you make everything gay?

Joe: No. Dammit, I’m not the writer, he is. You come up with something, Lord Fancybritches.

Oni: Your mind is like a joyful rich little white girl, taking all the shit and darkness that comes during the course of normal life and rising high above it with ideas of no realistic grounding and high-minded concepts with no realistic execution. And whenever the sewage and germ-encrusted waves of reality lap against her ivory shores, with no concept of evil under her unworn soles, she can only see it in the wonderful world she’s created while it slowly stains and ruins her.

Cold: Does it always come back to little girls with you?

Missou: I think he just described a pedophile raping a little girl, but I’m not really sure anymore. I do feel dirty though.

Oni: Also, she’s like a solid 9.

Hustle: Is that in little girl ranking or in general ranking?

Oni: Ranking?

Hustle: Welp, I’m getting a drink.

Hustle stands up and heads to the kitchen

Joe: I take it back, I’m with Missou. Never write again. Hustle, bring me back the soda I stuck in there, but pour it in a glass and throw some ice in it.

Hustle: (from the other room) Gotcha.

Joe: And don’t put a pineapple in it.

Hustle: (still muffled) Blow it out your ass.

Joe: So I sell around and throw my hand up when Roddy comes in to hit some other dumb move on me. “Backbreakers dude? Is that what it takes to get these fat chicks wet nowadays? Or is that just pizza grease that missed their second chin? Who thinks backbreakers are cool? Backbreakers? You think that shit would fly in mid '90s All Japan? You think these people want to see that bull-“

Oni: Imma cut you off right there because Roddy proceeds to spin you around, lock you around the waist and Backdrop Driver you so hard your vertebrae look like one of those coins you can smoosh through those novelty machines at National Monuments.

Joe: Thank Zeus almighty he’s capable of picking up these REALLY easy signs I’m giving him. Dude’s not as dumb as he looks.

Oni: Roll Toughness and Charisma, unless you wanna take a knee on them and have a nurse wipe your poop away for the remainder of your life.

Joe: Tempting.

Joe rolls and Oni maintains his wall of “Hiding Rolls Just to Fuck With Joe”

Joe: That’s better, I guess. 9 for Toughness, 16 for Charisma.

Oni: You know how people whine all the time about so-and-so carrying a match?

Joe: Who’s So-and-so?

Missou: Yes.

Oni: Traviss is carrying this match based solely on his charisma rolls. Roddy has a sort of hometown advantage in that he doesn’t have to work nearly as hard to pop the crowd, but you were right Hus. This is the Joe show. Or the Traviss show, rather.

Missou: Good thing he’s technically sound and can get lead easy.

Cold: Dude’s not a ring general. All his best matches were with someone better leading the way.

Joe: Am I dead?

Oi: No, you are alive and well. Dude had a really high tech roll. But, as has become rote with this match, the crowd pops hard. Like a thousand individual bubbles on the bubble wrap sheet combined into one and burst at the same time.

Missou: …

Oni: Like all the pimples on all the prepubescent faces in all the world popping at once.

Hustle comes back in and puts a drink down in front of Joe before resuming his seat

Hustle: Did I miss more disconcerting shit from Oni?

Cold: More or less.

Oni: This crowd is like Pringle’s; once they popped, they couldn’t stop.

Joe: It’s like the people that eat Pringle’s then.

Oni: Oh, yeah, I guess. So it’s more like…the match is Pringle’s and…the crowd popped it?

Joe: No, you were right. The crowd is the Pringle’s, we just popped them. And we can’t stop popping them.

Oni: Ah, yeah, that makes much more sense. Anyways, they pop hard. Is what I’m trying to say.

Missou: I never would’ve known.

Joe: Let him build his momentum, before I tell him it’s time to go home.

Hustle: Aw, it’s over already? I’ll readily admit that I was entertained.

Missou: I will, only under duress.

Joe: Glad you guys have such faith in me. I tell him, what’s he do?

Oni: Says “Okay”

Joe: Jeez, this guy really is a lost sheep. Fuck it, I’ll lead him around. Let him keep control til the end and pull out a quick finisher win.

Missou: Do you remember what his finisher was?

Joe: I dunno, some kind of powerbomb.

Missou: Do you remember what your finisher is?

Joe: I dunno, some kind of powerbomb.

Cold: God dammit.

Oni: Joe, Cold and I spent like, a column on your fucking move! It’s that…arm…pully…thingy. Fuck, what was the terminology?

Cold: Pumphandle powerbomb into pulldown GTS. You both suck.

Oni: Sorry.

Joe: Well, whatever. I’ll just say when I do it and you guys can…say what it is or whatever. What’s it’s name?

Cold: It doesn’t have one, you thought it’d be funnier.

Joe: Oh yeah.

Oni: Well, roll technical twice. I’m gonna need to see you lead him around even though he’s in control and then reverse it. You’ll also have to tell me how you reverse him after you roll.

Joe: You sure are demanding.

Hustle: You should also have him do the rest of this blindfolded.

Missou: With a ball gag.

Cold: Dead. Just kill him.

Joe: I’ll do your stupid rolls.

Joe throws the die twice, which is a bit silly considering there are multiple dice on the table. It comes up 7 the first time and 17 the second

Oni: You lead him well enough, as a shepherd to sheep. You zig and he zigs, you zag and he zags, you samba, he takes the dip. The whole time he gives you a rather decent thrashing, backbreakers galore and tossed out like they were iPhones at a Liberal Arts college. And the crowds frenzied remains sustained, you’ve done a good enough job getting them into the match without having to keep up the antics.

Joe: Does he have a signature move, like one of his backbreakers where I’m in a fireman’s carry or something I can easily transition to a powerbomb position?

Cold: He’s got that double lungblower. It comes off fairly fast, but you could probably switch it around.

Hustle: The one where he drops them onto his knees? That’s a pretty dece move.

Joe: When I have a chance, I tell him to go for the lungblower.

Oni: Miracles of miracles! He sets you up for it! Will wonders never cease?

Missou: Wow, I just thought of something.

Hustle: What’s that?

Missou: Is Traviss supposed to win? He never asked.

Joe: Because it was a foregone conclusion I was winning.

Hustle: Don’t get a big head or anything.

Joe: I meant that I was a new heel who they have big plans for, allegedly, and I’m going against a guy who can stay over even in a loss. I don’t see any reason why I wouldn’t win this.

Missou: I hate you sometimes.

Cold: Specifically when you make perfect sense at the expense of decorum.

Oni: I’m just impressed Cold knows the word “decorum.” Roddy has you up. Time to reversal into the…nameless…move thingy…face hurterer. Roll technical and charisma for the whole thing, and throw a strength roll in there too.

Joe: Why a strength roll?

Oni: Does Roddy know what your move is?

Hustle: Oooooooooh no.

Missou: Oh fuck. Roddy’s dead.

Joe: Whoops. That…probably could’ve been discussed.

(Pause)

Joe: Time for 20s!

Joe throws dice, three this time, as Oni rolls two behind his girly little screen thing. Seriously, what is that

Joe: And I score…15 tech and 20 charisma! And 10 strength. Which is enough, I guess.

Oni’s face is pained

Joe: What? Those were good rolls.

Oni: Yeah. Those were.

Cold: Man, PWG is gonna be pissed at you for killing their stars.

Hustle: You mean our buddy Roddy…?

Oni: Rolled a 2 for endurance. And I gave him a –7 to the roll because he had no idea what was coming. His luck roll was also…not…of particular largeness. Some may call it…miniscule.

Hustle: You. You’d call it that. So is he dead?

Oni: Hold on a sec. You pop off and set him up in powerbomb position no problem, thread his hands between his legs and settle down. Quick as a whip, fast as a snap you pull him up and over. He thinks it’s a pumphandle powerbomb so he follows through on that admirably, with all the technical skill he has. However, when you push his legs out and away from you and he starts dropping to the mat with your arms still locked and he’s…horizontal, methinks he is not sure what exactly is going on. As you drop down to a knee, and he quickly approaches it you think you catch a glimpse of him mouthing one cussword or another. It passes though and with a sick crack, he lands face-first into your thigh. The move is taken right, or as right as it can be. Which means his face hitting your thigh makes a sickening thwack sound, like a baseball bat hitting a fat man’s gut. There might’ve been a crunch. The crowd goes silent, and you feel the air in the room get sucked collectively inwards in a thousand small gasps. The silence passes in agonizing seconds as Roddy rolls in a slumping shamble of limbs, selling like the son of god himself or just as dead. You stand up and as you rise everything is shattered in one great “HOLY FUCK” by some now-breathing fan in the front row. You know how I said the crowd erupted before?

Joe: Yes.

Oni: That was nothing. You never recall hearing anything like this before. It sounds like the world is ending.

E-mail me at: OniBarubary@gmail.com

Source: lordsofpain.net