ULW's Fucked Up Friday, 10/9/15, Kalinda RP 1 of 1

-Promo-

Stop it.

I see you. I can see what you're doing clear as day. And even if I didn't ULW's legion of diehard fans will be sitting there all night refreshing the webpages wanting to be the very first to scoop up a little tidbit of news to twist and warp into a clickbait type headline and be the first to toss it up on one of a thousand wrestling news sites.

I get posted with one match up, and by the time the sun rises over the United States of America in a glorious explosion of guns, baseballs, eagles, apple pie, and 72 ounce gas station soda cups that match has somehow mutated into something else entirely.

See in the dark, wee hours of the morning once again I was put in the main event of FUF. And once again not only would I be facing ULW's champion Willow Wilkes, but I would also have the opportunity to get my hands on that little shit Eli Legacy. Eli and I were originally making the tag team main event a trios event.

But once again I get jerked around and tossed into a random three way match constructed without any regard for rhyme, reason, common sense, a decent build, or any sort of motivation for having it.

I mean last time at least there was the minor footnote of League of Superstars points between me and Colton, and also featuring Cameron "The Dick Pickle" MacNichol. This time we don't even have that.

Mr. Bright, Vigilante of Pelor

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" the guard says, sizing me up, "This guy called down some major dark magic. Two of the Watch that brought him in are still under observation. They're sick with..."

He is silent as he looks into my eyes, or tries to. The smoked lenses I wear make the task impossible, which is the entirety of the reason behind wearing them. I can see the doubt on his face. In the months since my unexpected arrival I haven't changed the way I dress in the slightest. Unsaid is the general premise; what kind of an idiot walks around in the middle of the desert with no shirt and heavy plate armor on all four limbs?

"I'm sure. The Church of Kord will take full responsibility for what he does while in my charge." I reply. He sighs and steps down from the front of the prison wagon, leaving the reins in my hands.

"I'll have the wagon back before dawn." I say, getting the horses underway before the question can be raised.

In the back, behind stout iron bars, wrists bound with thick chain, and with a gag stuffed in his mouth is the current front-runner for the annual most-hated man in the city awards. Or he would be, were there such an award.

Argos Kane, heir-apparent to the Kane family trading fortune, has been engaging in some rather unfortunate extra-curricular activities. Dark magic, creation of undead, kidnapping, murder, and a host of other unpleasantness that ruins the appetite to think about.

ULW's Fuck'd Up Friday, 9/18/15, Kalinda RP 1 of 1

-Promo-

No one wants to do their fucking job around here. The referees that cannot see, the management won't do anything remotely resembling good business, the booking committee cannot stop changing its fucking mind after the preliminary card already goes out, and the other wrestlers refuse to fucking wrestle real fucking wrestling matches.

I've tried. Goddess knows I've tried so hard to actually go out there and perform the functions of the task for which I am under contract to provide. I was under the impression that professional wrestlers were supposed to be gladiators for a new day and a new age. That they would take part in grand, glorious displays of one on one combat with the purpose of providing bloodsport for the entertainment of the masses.

But it's so difficult to do that when a select minority of one's co-workers holds to the same ideals. They do not want to have fights, they do not want to have battle, they do not want to partake in grand, glorious struggles filled with honor and drama, with both parties through mind, body, and soul into the flames of combat to obtain victory.

No, they simply wish to bypass the whole struggle part and simply be handed glory and victory on a silver fucking platter. I gave Brandon Vow a chance. I gave him an opportunity. I let him have everything he'd need to show the world the truth of his words.

I gave him every chance to claim the title of Dragonslayer. I held back all night. I let him pour everything he had into me and in the end he could not get the job done. When the bell rang, I was not slain. I was standing tall with the object that he had chosen in his feeble attempt to slay me, the object that he had swung with all his strength. The object that failed completely and utterly to do anything more than fuel my rage.

ULW's Fuck'd Up Friday, 8/14/15, Kalinda RP 2 of 2

Doom and gloom. A spiral of inevitable decay. A fall from grace. A degradation of humanity from one generation to the next, that sons and daughters will inevitably be lesser than their fathers and mothers. The end times are a comin', the apocalypse draws near! The end is nigh! Repent of your sins, o wayward sheep, and follow me, your shepherd to salvation and enlightenment! Look upon me as I spread my arms wide, simultaneously inviting embrace and deifying myself by taking a pose associated with a god made flesh.

Fill my pockets, ye lost lambs, for in these darkest of days, in these end times there shall soon be no need for worldly goods of the coarsest nature. Armageddon draws near, and as the human race begins its inevitable circling of the drain, money, gold, silver, and jewels will serve you no good.

Coins will not fill your bellies with sustenance and you will be hard pressed to drink dollar bills and stock certificates. I am the way, the truth, and the light. Surrender your worldly goods to a greater good, ascend to a grander glory, and embrace your drawing demise. The darkest days of the world are ahead, days wherein the survivors will be the unfortunate souls and the dead will be envied for their places of rest. Free of pain, free of strife, free of sickness, and free of disease.

Believe in me, follow me, heed my words and I will lead you to salvation. I will lead you to a bigger, better tomorrow. A tomorrow that looks suspiciously like yesterday. A world of wonder and grace that our forefathers had created and that their children and children's children ruined with their wickedness.

Turn away from the present and embrace the past. Reject the false god of change and adaptation. Salvation lies not in turning the eye towards the light of a hopeful future, but instead looking over the shoulder towards the past looked upon through rose colored glasses.

ULW's Fuck'd Up Friday, 8/14/15, Kalinda RP 1 of 2

Today is not going to be a happy day. There isn't going to be very much in the way of happy, playful insults. There will be no making up ridiculous stories regarding my opponent this week and his associates. There won't even be any of the usual lunacy where I pretend he's something that is obviously not real, like an Angel Kash robot, a plant alien with his brains in his armpits, or a mush-mouthed southerner who can't pronounce my name correctly because of the parasitic beard that's latched onto his face and is manipulating his brain via vile tendrils.

Brandon Vow, whose name I will pronounce correctly when he sees fit to get his tongue under control and be able to properly enunciate mine, is someone who needs to be dealt with the utmost seriousness.

Because the potential he has to cause mayhem and pain in ULW is unprecedented. He has the advantage of being in a position where he and his crows are seen as a lesser evil, as a threat that is not quite so dire as New Eden.

And because he hasn't dived into the deep end of wickedness, of supervillain cackling, whip wielding, summoning a gimp masked asshole when the lights are out to interfere in main events, meat curtain flapping, barbed wire noose lynching, Nazis-with-skulls-on-their-uniforms-are-we-the-baddies outright EVIL he comes off as comparatively harmless.

Hell, we agree on a whole lot of things. We both want to shake things up, to rip the corruption out of ULW in the head office and in the locker room. We think that New Eden is a cancer, that der Vaart is an inept, racist, dutch gorilla doing the arm pit fart when he ought to be booking shows and stringing together advertising to promote his company.

You don't have to go very far to see how badly this company is being mismanaged. Of how ULW's nose is being cut off to spite its face. You only need look at how I'm being excluded, isolated, ignored by ULW's media machine.

ULW's Fuck'd Up Friday, 7/31/15, Kalinda RP 2 of 2

So it looks like Operation: Hungry Hungry Hippos is not going to be a thing. Despite it being one of those most out there and interesting ideas in the history of professional wrestling

My guess is that Clay Colton isn't feeling up to snuff with his pachyderm gobbling skills and that after spending two weeks not bathing and apparently squatting in some shit-filled warren in the greater New Jersey area, Cameron MacNichol is liable to confuse the marbles for candy and stuff them into his mouth, choking and turning almost as blue as I am in the middle of the ring.

And y'all have to admit it's a good idea. Because I'm not stupid. He who forgets the past is doomed to repeat it and all that. I've seen enough pro wrestling to read between the lines and see where this is going to end up.

Willow Wilkes isn't wrestling. Cindy Todd isn't wrestling. Mogui never fucking wrestles in the first place. New Eden's got the World Title back in their possession but they were made to look like fools after they got run off from Paranoia.

So the image the folks at home got to wrap up the show, the freshest thing in their minds coming out of Paranoia, was New Eden running like a bunch of scalded doges. So fear. Such terrify. Very frighten. Much coward. Wow.

ULW's Fuck'd Up Friday, 7/31/15, Kalinda RP 1 of 2

Wow, amazing, isn't it? Once again I've defeated the goober the Shadow Cartel has sent to put an end to me, I've shrugged off damage that would put a normal person in the hospital, and yet again Jason King and Willow Wilkes have a title match and have to be wrapped in bubble wrap and put up on a high shelf for a month so they don't shatter and explode into a million bajillion pieces.

What the fuck.

Seriously.

Once again we've got the champ and the ex-champ doing fuck all in the ring after a big show, and not merely a big show! This is, supposedly, the biggest show of the year! I would think that it would be Booking for Babby 101 level shit here to have the people involved at your PPV main event actually wrestling on the very next show, to capitalize on that hotness.

But no, this is Raymond the Fart we're talking about here. Ray Ray the Methane Powered Jet Plane who decided to stack Paranoia from top to bottom with part timers. I don't see Dante around here wrestling matches after his fucking with every main event match for the span of months. I don't see Cindy Todd skipping around a ring. I don't see the pasty face of Silencer the Evil Mime looming over the children in the crowd, taking their candy, and terrifying them. Hell, Lethal Weapon shot me in the motherfucking face and not only did I win my match, but I'm here to take ass and kick names, while he's fucked off back to the Weapon Cave to plot his next assassination attempt from a client in Gotham City.

Hell, of all the champions ULW has, we've got all of one of them wrestling on this show! Clay fucking Colton is the only champ not made of ceramic bits held together by Elmer's glue. Willow isn't wrestling, Gracie isn't wrestling, Mason isn't wrestling.

Isn't it strange that one show after Paranoia there are exactly three people who have been with this company for more than two months actually wrestling on it? Doesn't it seem a touch odd that we've all been crammed into the same match?

Gee, it's almost like when you try and cram in as many wrestling old timers to try and artificially inflate your ratings and buyrates for one night of the year, everything else suffers. Amazing how that works, that when you spent your time focusing on part time wrestlers and coddling your own little pet projects the show suffers.