DID YOU FILL OUT A CHARACTER SHEET?
ELITE staff is currently putting together the next show, and we NEED your character sheets completed TODAY! We're also re-designing our show trons, and we need your character sheets completed so we have something to work off of. Your attention to this is very much appreciated. -Z
ELITE staff is currently putting together the next show, and we NEED your character sheets completed TODAY! We're also re-designing our show trons, and we need your character sheets completed so we have something to work off of. Your attention to this is very much appreciated. -Z
Who's the Mad One?
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Excuse me, Monk, but I'm not sure I got that.
Nightcat tilts his head slightly to the left. His trademark smile is nowhere to be seen. Nor is he frowning, scowling, or making silly faces. Blank. He's refusing to even blink. Screw that.
You need to understand a few things, Mad One.
I might have a few unflattering quirks, but being a whiny, excuse making little bitch doesn't fall onto the list. You won't hear any crying from me.
I don't care how you managed to win the match. It wouldn't matter of you and old Suicide planned the whole fucking thing a week in advance.
You won.
One massive shrug. Nightcat runs a hand through his hair.
Unfortunately for your little quest to topple your good pal, Steve, your cocky little spiel annoyed me a bit.
Sure, I'd have given you even odds to become Champ under ideal circumstances, but all your fantasies came to a tragic end the instant this match was made.
Big deal. I don't respect you.
Find someone I do respect and get back to me.
Good luck with that, tough guy.
Though I do have a confession to make.
I've grown rather bored with all of the boring, idle threats being lobbed around this place.
You're not going to rip my arm off. Honestly, can't you at least make an entertaining threat?
Offer to chew off my nose.
Claim that you're going to violate the spirit of my dead mother.
Something.
Anything.
Nightcat flashes his toothy grin.
I'm going to steal from you.
You made it to the cusps of something grand. You nearly too home the biggest prizefighter of all.
But you fucked yourself.
You pressed your luck.
You made me angry.
Now, there will be no Championship for you.
You get nothing.
But it could be worse.
I will make sure there's enough left of you to at least make it to your big match.
Beyond that, I guess Steve will owe me.
Maybe he'll be my new BFF once your remains have been tossed to the side.
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Tagged
- madmonkey 11
- nightcat 9
- canadainvasion5 7
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